Ryne Maher

Email: pickett_cc@yahoo.com
==Description==
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Light Brown
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 190
Age: 16
Place of Origin: family farm outside of Whitebridge, Andor
==Stats==
Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 3
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon: 
Secondary Weapon: 
Tertiary Weapon: 
==History==
Character?s name: Ryne Maher
Age: 16
Place of Origin: family farm outside of Whitebridge, Andor
Hair Color: Light Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5?9??
Weight: 190 lbs
Brief History:
 Born of Jaffrey Maher, a retired member of the Queen?s Bodyguard who had fought in the Aiel Wars before finding love and settling down to raise a family. Spending most of his life behind a plow Ryne has always longed for something more. He wished to see the places that his father told stories about, Camlyn, Tar Valon, Dragonmount, Cairhien. Where was the fairness? How could Father say that Ryne had to stay when he was long gone by sixteen? It isn?t like he depends on Ryne to get all of the chores done, with five other brothers and sisters around the work would surely get done.
 Father had insisted that Ryne learn the fundamentals of being a woodsman. He taught Ryne how to hunt with a bow and sling, how to track your prey, how to skin, how to find shelter and build camp. He would never let Ryne touch his saber which he kept above the fireplace. ?Violence begets violence.? Father would say and change the subject when ever Ryne asked to learn the techniques, ?No respectable man needs a weapon to be respected.? Instead he would put emphasis on the quarterstaff, a workingman?s weapon. A quarterstaff could be used to drive off wolves, act as a lever for moving boulders, and to defend oneself from the occasional bandit on the roads these days. Father made his three sons spar with the staffs for at least an hour or two each day. The rule was, any of Jaffery Maher?s sons may leave when he was a man, and a man had at least one Feastday title to his name. This year would be different, this year Ryne would leave the house.
*****
 Sweat covered both Ryne and his brother as they circled each other around the town square. Chris was taller and stronger so Ryne would have to wait for his opening and put his faith in his swiftness. Chris side stepped to the left and swept out at Ryne?s head, there it was the perfect weakness in his brother?s defense. The hard oak staff had a diameter about the length of Ryne?s thumb, bit hard into his hand as he shifted his weight from his back leg to the front to slam the weapon down into his older brother?s thigh. Chris? leg had never healed right since his fall from the hay loft last harvest. True Melanie was the best Wisdom in the area but the leg still gave Chris trouble from time to time. Luckily today was one of those times. The pole arm came down quickly as Ryne took a step back to deflect any counterstrike. The counterstrike never came; Chris dropped his staff and fell to the ground clutching his leg.
 The Victor Ceremony wasn?t really much; Mayor Corti just placed the victor?s ribbon around his neck but that ribbon was his sign of manhood and his pass to freedom. Chris would never forgive him for leaving the house first, or for taking a cheap shot to win. Alls fair in love and war, the saying went but somehow Ryne didn?t get the feeling that Chris felt the same. Father was simply ecstatic that two of his sons had made it to the finals.
 The next morning came all too soon. Mother shook Ryne awake telling him to wash and come down for breakfast, his last free meal. Rubbing his grainy eyes, Ryne pulled on his Feastday coat, the blue one with silver buttons. If he was to leave today he wanted to look his best doing so. Quickly putting on his boots, he poured water into the tin basin on his dresser, washed his face, ran a comb through his hair and used the Salts to clean the taste of last night from his mouth. Coming down the stairs, Ryne noticed the mantle above the fireplace was empty. Setting down to the table he ate his porridge and started to rise as his father came into the room. Father simply handed Ryne a leather purse with thirty silver pennies and the saber.
 ?I promised myself that when the first of my sons left the house I would give him the weapon of a man, yet you don?t seem to realize the hurt that such a thing can bring Ryne. Don?t let it control you. The sword is just a tool, the mind is the weapon. What you did to your brother was crafty; it takes as quick mind and a quicker hand to deliver such a blow to an enemy, let alone your own blood. Take care my son.? With that the man walked his son to the door and opened it for him ?May the Light shine on you.?
 ?And also on you, Father.? Ryne replied as he tied the saber to his belt and slipped the purse into the pocket of his coat. A day had never looked more beautiful than that one; he walked over to the barn to retrieve his bow and quiver, after strapping the quiver over his shoulder he picked up his staff. Setting out at a brisk pace, Ryne started towards the city and after that he didn?t know. He did have the notion to join the legendary Warders in Tar Valon.
Category:WS 3
Category:Trainee
Category:Biographies
Category:Warder Bios