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| - Biography |
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Name: Cedrith Altair
Age: 29
Nationality: Sheinaran
Height: 6'3
Weight: 230
Hair color/length: Black, not too short
Eye color: Dark brown, almost black
Personality:
Cedrith has a strange sense of honor: he will never lie or go back on his word, but he does not necessarily respect rules that he sees as unequal. He'll fight for what he thinks as right whatever the consequence. He is quiet and relatively reserved, with few friends, but once opening up he has a particularly dry sense of humor
Strength in the One Power
*This is at full potential, though now still quite weak
Overall: 5/10
Fire: 8/10
Earth: 6/10
Water: 2/10
Air: 4/10
Spirit: 5/10
Block: Unable to channel unless feels trapped or a need to escape
Talents
Milking Tears (major), Wards (minor), Concealment (minor)
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History
Cedrith was born from a poor but honorable family in the northern part of Sheinar. There are few towns outside the high walls of the fortified cities along the Blight, but he lived in one of the larger ones. The town had survived trolloc raids in the past and, as all its inhabitants would say to any passerby, the town would survived many more in the future. They had a persevering spirit worthy of Sheinar and a strong sense of honor to the community. It was that last aspect that made Cedrith leave home.
He was raised as one of several children, but the only son, to a pair of very honorable Sheinarans who had lived in the town their whole lives, and their parents before them. He grew up learning the edge of a sword and the sharpness of his mother's tongue. No one in the village had wealth and Cedrith could not imagine anything but a subsistence life, always fearing the Blight, always working to have enough food to last the harsh Sheinaran winters. When he was eighteen,a nobleman from a nation to the south came through the village on its way to one of the cities along the Blight. With him came the man's wealth and his bragging of far more at his home in Cairhien. Cedrith saw the nobleman show his gold at the inn and immediately felt a disgust for him. But it was also a desire. That kind of gold could help his family. He did what he thought right, and went against custom and Sheinaran honor.
When Cedrith snuck into the man's rooms at night, something happened. A strongman guarding the door rose his torch into the shadows. Cedrith, hiding there, panicked. He pushed himself back agains the was and hid within his cloak. He felt somethign rush through him, and the strong man looked directly at him without seeing him. He would only learn much later that he used concealment to hide himself in the shadows that night.
He came home later that night, successful and with a bag of coin to prove it. He stayed in his room long after the hour of dawn, lookign at his stolen riches. Cedrith realized there was no real way to use his new wealth. His parents would never accept it, knowing immediately that it was stolen. No one in the town had this sort of wealth that a small bag of gold coins - one of the nobleman's many - and there would be no way to hide his source. Cedrith realized too that once everyone discovered his act, they would brand him as dishonorable and unfit. He came to a rather radical decision. He stole a horse and headed out of town, never to return.
Cedrith still doesn't know exactly what made him leave home, but ever since the wanderlust of a traveler gripped him he could not find a place to ettle. He tried several times, but always the road ahead looked more inviting. He made his way by selling his skills. A mercenary in the Borderlands was never considered an especially honorable profession, but there was a demand anyway. He was praised as a man who kept to his word, but inside he knew the truth. He cared little for rules or wars, and less for the divide between the wealthy aristocrats and the poor peasantfolk. He did what he felt was right at all times, even if that meant stealing for his own supper or upholding the honor of an enemy. It was in those instances when he was leaving a town or city quickly that he channeled. The need to escape was strong in him, and it was that which formed his block. He rarely channeled, but when he did, he use the One Power in one of two ways. Sometimes, he would seem to almost disappear into the surroundings and go unnoticed. Other times, he would talk to someone, and hope that his poorly fabricated story would pass along unnoticed and found an innkeeper or borderguard fully willing to believe it. Cedrith simply assumed he had a certain luck about him and a talent for persuasion.
F
or nine years he continued this way. After a week in any one place, the road became so much more inviting. He never settled, never made friends or close relationships. The world was claustrophobic to him. At least it was until he arrived in Tar Valon. Fed by the lasting stories of Gaidin and warriors that fought alone or beside a companion, Cedrith came to the Towers with the thought of seeing for himself what it would take to be a Gaidin. He wanted to settle, but doubted he'd be able to keep himself in Tar Valon long enough for such training. Still, he was tired of always moving. When he arrived and made inquiries into the Tower defenders, he found himself face to face with an Asha'man. He was tested and brought into the Black Tower without a chance to utter a word of protest. Older than most soldiers, and better trained in fighting, Cedrith sees little reason to really stay except one: the Black Tower is the first place he's been where the road ahead did not call him away. Cedrith made the decision to stay and wait. This thing called channeling may be useful one day when he is back on the long dusty road.
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