Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Dark brown
Height: 5?10?
Weight: 180
Age: 17
Place of Origin: Andor


Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 2
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon:
Secondary Weapon:
Tertiary Weapon:


Brief History: Daroth was born on a small farm in the outskirts of Caemlyn. His mother and father raised him well, and as the oldest of five boys and a little sister, he often was relied on for farm work and taking care of the kids.

This being so, he had not much free time. The time he did have though, was spent practicing his swordwork. His father, being an ex-Queen?s Guard, knew about the many thieves that ran rampant, and did not fail to share stories. Daroth would not let his family be endangered by fool brigands. The day he picked up that old, rusty blade that had once belonged to a Queen?s Guard, was the day he knew what he was about.

The metal hilt on his hand was something he was not accustomed to, a wooden-handled axe, to cut wood, was something he was familiar with. As strange as it felt then, he was comfortable with it, he liked the way the sword flowed through the submissive air at the twist of his wrist. His father had laughed at him, trying to dissuade him of his woolheaded notions of honor, and courage, glory in battle. Unwavering, Daroth was determined to follow in his father?s footsteps, the only thing he knew. He practiced even harder, but without a mentor he could not get far. His so-called practicing, could be reduced to nothing more than idle swinging at the air, or now and again, a bush.

As time passed, most of the boys in his family were now becoming of age, and his father still refusing to assist him in his quest to become a Queen?s Guard, Daroth decided to take matters into his own hands. Strapping on his father?s sword, he went to Caemlyn, and inquired a senior looking officer about joining up. Daroth walked away disappointed. It seemed his father?s influence held strong there, and the officer bluntly denied him. He turned to walk home, kicking stones that littered the bustling streets.

Looking to his right, something caught his eye. In a sidestreet, a man and a woman walked calmly through it. The man looked dangerous, while the woman looked of nobility. Then Daroth noticed what had caught his eye, they were going to be attacked! There were two men on porches opposite eachother, looking down at them with a deadly gleam in their eyes. Daroth pushed his body against a flower shop, peeking around the corner into the alley. Three more men came around the opposite corner, short swords in hand. The dangerous looking man slightly pushed the woman behind him as he swung his sword out in the same motion.

He could not hear the two men on the porches silently hop down and creep towards the woman. This did not look good to Daroth, he could not just stand there. In that thought, the man had already disarmed one of the thieves, taking off his hand. The woman looked too calm for the current situation, and Daroth prayed she would look behind her at the men. Seeing she would not, Daroth went into the alley, trying to quietly unsheath his sword. He failed. The two thieves behind the woman turned their attention to him, ?Fool boy? he heard one mutter, the other just snickered. Daroth swallowed heavily, he was scared, too scared. The sword suddenly felt awkward in his hand, like he had never held it before. He attempted to look brave. He failed. ?Don?t worry boy, we won?t hurt you..much.? They laughed. The woman must have heard that, because she turned around and saw the quivering boy. As the thieves were almost upon him, they suddenly froze mid-step. A look of horror crossed their faces as their deadly eyes melted, and looked at eachother in confusion. Daroth was just as confused. Looking behind the thieves, he saw the other three dead on the ground, the man, not a scratch to be seen. The man and the woman walked nonchalantly towards the two thieves, and him. Suddenly, their limbs dropped and they ran, weapons clattering on the ground behind them.

Daroth watched them, chuckling for only a moment as a large hand set upon his shoulder. He turned to see the man and woman in front of him. ?Tis a risk you took today lad, an unnecessary one at that.? The man said in a deep, yet soft voice.

Daroth looked down, abashed. ?Ther..there were men behind you, I-I..? The man laughed heartily.

?No need to be ashamed son, you have done what is right by, and by me as well.? He patted his shoulder, trying to comfort him. He looked Daroth up and down, ?You seem to be a good lad with a solid head, and heart. May need some work in the fighting department though,? he laughed again ?there are many places to find that help.? He mused and walked away, tossing Daroth a shiny mark as he left. Daroth caught it, fumbling.

A Tar Valon mark! Then it hit him, the men, how they were frozen. That must mean that woman was an Aes Sedai, an Aes Sedai! Imagine that, an Aes Sedai and her warder, and he thought they needed help. He stuffed the mark in his pocket and smiled. A warder.

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