Appearance: Brown hair and eyes, slightly balding, noticable blade scar on right arm from outside shoulder to elbow. Clean shaven, shoulder length hair kept pulled back in a pony tail.
Place of Origin: Whitebridge, Andor
Age: Between 38-42 namedays (stopped counting)
Primary Weapon: long sword and shield
Secondary Weapon: whatever I can get my hands on or will do in a pinch
Spiders are rather industrious creatures, Take this one spinning her web just inside the barn door. She has been at it since I snuck in to get out of the rain this evening. Spinning and weaving, weaving and spinning she makes her home a trap for the unwary . A lot more in common with people than most would care to admit.
I have been many things in my time, farmer, soldier, thief, and lately a vagabond, I even tried to sing for my supper once, was actually funny in a sadistic way to me when Belted out the first verse of ... whatever it was I had in my head, needless to say I went hungry.
The spider has caught her first moth...
*as I watch her dine I begin to muse over my past*
A little past my 18th nameday a Soldier came through Whitebridge calling for all able Lads to fight against the savages from the wastes, that all civilization depended upon defeating these Aiel, and that a great army was being raised from all the nations to fight them. Being young and foolish, my eyes and head full of all the "glory" going to war instills in young men, I volunteered. I left my families farm without even a by your leave, thinking I would come home a hero , full of gold and tales of great battles fought and won.
I received training with pike ans blade and was taught how to work with others as a team, I never realized that almost all who I trained with would never return to Andor, that the carrion birds would feast in front a lone mountain in the middle of nowhere, I later was told that the breaking began at that mountain and in retrospect,I know that a fitting place for the carnage I was part of.
We marched for days to meet up with great army of nations, and what a breathtaking sight it was to me, banners, pennants, armor all shone in the sun, their glorious colors dazzling to my inexperienced eye. 4 days later my eyes saw clearly.
We were taught to act as one with our weapons, they WERE one with their spears. They were born to fighting it seemed, every move fluid and graceful and deadly. With every thrust or swing there was a limb, a a gurgle followed by gouts of blood. I learned fast to not pay attention to your comrades if they fall, that all that matters is your blade and the one trying to end your life and the blade after that one, I remember thinking that I was going to die here and no one will ever know or care. Then they just stopped, as a whole they turned and went back the way they came. From my place in the remnants of my line we just fell from exhaustion too tired and too amazed that we were alive. I took a good look at the field we fought on, the stench of bowels cut open, blood and sweat was overwhelming, the screams and wails of the wounded and dying was one long continuous noise. The carnage one can do with a blade to another human was horrifying. I remember thinking to myself "there is no glory here, its just the dead, the dying and those who got lucky" I made a vow after that, never again will I voluntarily go to war.
I returned to my families farm on the outskirts of Whitebridge to find my father had passed during the winter of a lung sickness. my mother and sister barely surviving on the meager harvest and what work they could get sewing for the whitebridge folk. they had sold the cows and the old nag we used to plow with to pay for the herbalist for father. come spring I would have to plow by myself. And I did, and continued to do so for a quite a few years. being a soldier makes you skinny, you get muscles mind you, but it makes you skinny non the less, pushing and pulling a plow makes your chest fill out and your legs bulge. Over time - we replaced our cows, and got some chickens as well. My sister married a tanner in Whitebridge and I stayed on to farm our land.
Then one day, nature took its course and my Mother joined my father. I sat in my house for about a week after we performed the rites and decided that I didn't want to farm anymore.I sold the farm, the cows and chickens. Gave half to my sister in Whitebridge and went to the tavern for a pint or two. I got to talking to a coupla lads on their way receive the Queen's Bounty, and it seemed like a good idea to join them. Things were going well , or so I thought, about 3 days out of Whitebridge the scum robbed me and tried to kill me.
*rubs his right shoulder and arm in remembrance*
Ever since then I have been a thief and vagabond, and with the way the world is now , its too dangerous for even that. The Creator must have a sense of humor, I was decent at the one livelihood I ended up hating and now its the only option left to me to survive. I'm going to have to eat my vow.
As Braxen closes his eyes to drift off to sleep, the spider catches another moth.