Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Dark brown
Weight: 120 lbs
Place of Origin: Coramen, Altara
Appearance: Ayve (pronounced Ivy) is 5'4" tall. Slim but muscular, she has a dark olive complexion making her white teeth seem brighter. She has long dark brown hair, nearly black in shade, that comes down to the middle of her back, which she almost constantly keeps in a long braid wrapped in a bun to keep out of her way. Her eyes are a shade of hazel, green and brown, uncommon in Altara. She has three scars: one horizontal on her left hip, another along a rib on the same side and the last vertical and short along the back of her neck, usually hidden by her thick hair. She carries the standard marriage knife between her breasts. Hair Color: Dark brown, long and thick. Eye Color: Hazel, green and brown. Height: 5'4" Weight: 120 lbs.
Personality: Fierce but quiet she can be almost invisible for all the notice she acquires. She is open about who she is, believes in honesty almost to a fault and is slow to anger. Once you raise her ire or anger however, it can be an inferno nigh unquenchable. She hates crying and rarely shows emotions other than anger or irritation though she feels deeply. She can be oblivious to any romantic attention, finding herself plain though not unattractive in her own way.
Strengths/Weaknesses: Stubborn in her loyalty, once you gain it you have it for life, even if it comes to harm her. Slow intellectually, she has never learned to read or write and can only perform basic math. Loves horses and cats, prefers using long knives when fighting.
Character History: Ayve was born the bastard daughter of a tavern wench. Her father was a foreigner who left Cormen, and her mother, behind without a backward glance. Cella, a cold hard woman by the time Ayve was old enough to know her, worked all the time in order to support the two of them. When she was old enough, Ayve was put to work as well. She ran errands, cleaned rooms, washed dishes and other things in order to earn her keep. Because of her work, she had an almost non-existent childhood, never learning to read or write. What math she learned was from the work she did for the inn. Her only friend was Fabio, an orphan boy and all around general pest to the community. Together they roamed the streets, in what little free time she acquired, pulling pranks and playing games.
When Ayve was twelve years old she was cornered by two boys, a little older than herself. She was held down and forced to do horrible things. They left her broken and bleeding and she has never recovered emotionally from that experience. Fabio found her and carried her home but she couldn't look into his eyes. After that she didn't see Fabio for two years. She became quiet and withdrawn, almost like a ghost. The kids stopped bullying her after she stopped reacting, just standing still as they called her name and threw stones at her. When Fabio returned she was a sunken shell of the child she used to be but he had not been idle in his time away. With him he brought two simple but sharp knives with engravings on the hilts. One engraving was of the crescent moon and a tiny star. The other engraving was of the sun…
"I don't understand…" anyone else would think that her voice was that of someone dead inside but Fabio could hear the note of interest as she gazed upon the blades glittering in the midday sun.
"I couldn't help you years ago and seeing you so hurt destroyed me. I ran away, ran away from the pain and guilt. I fell in with a group of men. Rough, dangerous men but they taught me how to defend myself, how to fight. I've come back to teach you those skills as well so that what happened to you, never EVER happens again!"
Ayve's eyes brightened as she ran a fingertip along the hilt, tracing the engraving. She whetted her lips with her tongue and looked up into his eyes, "When do we start?"
Ayve's skills grew gradually but it was obvious she had a knack or a natural talent for the blades; soon they were another extension of herself. She practiced day and night, pushing herself to be better. She became obsessed with the blades, sleeping with them every night. At seventeen, Fabio dueled one of the young men who had desecrated her and lost. Their love had been simple and yet hard to understand to others but themselves and as she held his dying body she closed her heart off to anyone. He was the only joy in her life, the only one who had believed she would ever live up to anything, he had loved and cared for her and now he was gone. Killed by a vile man, it just wasn't fair! She practiced harder with the blades, swearing revenge.
One day, when Ayve was twenty-one years old, she heard tell of a place where one could train to be a Warder, to defend an Aes Sedai if they so chose you. She examined her life; it was barren, without meaning. She yearned for more training with everything in her being. And so one night, two young men of Cormen were found mysteriously murdered, both apparently by blades. To throw off suspicion she waited another couple months before she embarked on her journey to Tar Valon.