Name: Kembial din Maris of Clan Rossaine
Nationality: Atha'an Miere (Sea Folk)
Hair: Kembial's black hair is curly, but short; brushed out it'd hang just past her shoulders. There's a few beaded braids within the dark locks.
Eyes: Dark Green
Skin: Extremely dark.
Voice: A quiet alto. Usually very soft, but she lifts her voice when she wants to make it clear she heard your order the first time.
Other: She has a few tattoos on her arms of Sea Folk design, indicating her clan and line.
Special Skills: Kembial has an talent for figuring out rank. Years of being on a Atha'an Miere ship has honed her instinct to pick out who's in charge of a group. Always helpful to know where your orders are coming from.
Physical Weakness: Kembial is something of a klutz on land, though she's not falling-over incapable of walking. Dresses make no sense and only get in the way. Why can't she wear trousers?
Personality Weakness: She's got a prejudice against the landbound, because they just don't get it. Reminding her that she herself is landbound at present will result in a sulky silence.
Personality: Sixteen, going on twenty five. Kembial acts older than her age, or tries to, because that was how she was raised. Responsibility and duty are bywords for her, and 'workaholic' could be added to that as well. She'll almost always be found doing something productive, and tends to look down on those that seem to go through life in search of nothing but fun. However, she's sixteen. She doesn't always get that right, and sometimes she will screw up. Badly.
Character History Edit
Before the White Tower got hold of Kembial, her world was the sea. Her home was the decks of the Sea Folk skimmer Wavestar, which plied its trade along the long coastline of the mainland. Like all of her people, she was born and raised on the water. Most Atha'an Miere took pride in never once setting foot on solid ground in their lives; Kembial shared that conceit, spiced with a fair amount of disdain for the land peoples. Even their best sailors could never know what it was like to truly be a son or daughter of the ocean. The sea was in her blood; *was* her blood.
While her five-years-elder sister Siamal was apprenticed to the ship Windfinder (which brought much honor to the line) her parents were both sailors of the middle rank. Kembial followed in their footsteps. As tradition and common sense demanded, she started out as a deckgirl when the Sailmistress decided she was of age and strong enough to claim that first set of earrings. As she grew, Kembial developed the famed Sea Folk grace from learning to walk on pitching decks in the roughest of storms. She grew in strength thanks to years of handling heavy ropes and sails. She learned the basics of navigation, showing a talent for art and mapping. However, while sailing skills were encouraged, the most important thing any Atha'an Miere learned was discipline and sense of rank: when one that outranked you gave a command, you did your duty without asking for anything other than clarification. And maybe not even that.
That instinctual behavior would come in handy when Kembial's life was unexpectedly uprooted.
The Wavestar had put into port at Illian, and Kembial was among those given shore duty, much to her dismay. There was nothing for it, though; orders were orders and a person of the Sea Folk was nothing if they didn't follow orders. So she and a gaggle of deckhands drifted behind the cargomaster, quietly doing his bidding as he haggled his way through what seemed like tons of dried goods and wine for the trips ahead.
That's when she saw the Aes Sedai, standing there as obvious as the sun. Like the rest of the men and women moving about the pier she found something else to concentrate on as the gray-shawled woman went about her business; no one wanted one of the White Tower women getting interested in any of their doings. Even if everything was completely above the board and lawful, you never knew what an Aes Sedai might say about it.
The Cargomaster directed the deckhands to a palletful of sacks of grain that needed to be taken back to the ship, and they were in the process of getting it shifted when Kembial heard a "Child? What is your name?" coming from the general direction of the Aes Sedai. The young woman assumed she was speaking to someone else, and continued to lift and haul.
Suddenly, her path was obstructed by the Aes Sedai. "I said," the woman went on, voice mild as if speaking about the weather, "What is your name? Child." She folded her arms, and looked at Kembial expectantly. She seemed a bit annoyed. Only a bit.
"I -uhm...." The girl didn't take her eyes off that ring, feeling as if the serpent coiled there was ready to spring if she said the slightest thing wrong. "My...apologies. Kembial din Maris of clan Rossaine, Aes Sedai." Her hand didn't quite shake as she made the ritual salute, hand to heart. At least Kembial hoped not.
"Hmph. You say only what I ask, and nothing more," the Aes Sedai said, nodding. "And you understand politeness. An excellent start." The dark-haired woman smiled thinly, then eyed the Cargomaster as he came up to see what was wrong. "Is this your girl?" she asked, before he had the chance to say a word.
The Cargomaster glanced from the Aes Sedai to the young deckhand. "That she is," he replied evenly. "One of our deckhands. What do you wish from her, Aes Sedai?"
"Mirelle Aes Sedai," the ageless woman corrected him. "I would like to take this one to the Tower. She has much potential in her."
Kembial nearly dropped the bag of grain she was holding right on her toes.
"I do hope that she will be allowed to collect some things and bid farewell to her parents, before she is taken away?" the Cargomaster asked, after a moment.
The Aes Sedai allowed that much, clearly pleased that there would be little to no protest. "I do have business to attend to, but I'm sure you can have the child ready in an hour. She will be taken to Tar Valon immediately."
Certainly, Mirelle Sedai." The cargomaster gave the ageless woman a salute then motioned to the stunned deckgirl. "Go back to the ship, Kembial, inform the Sailmistress, and get yourself ready for your journey."
All Kembial could do was stumble back to the only home she'd ever known, speechless. In the blink of an eye she had been traded like a pound of wool at market. Back on board, over a quickly heated goblet of wine to numb the shock, the quickly-informed Sailmistress reminded her why this had to be done: so the Aes Sedai could never know the Windfinder secret, or look at the Atha'an Miere too closely. As it was, Aes Sedai of the clans were fairly rare, but it was enough – had to be enough - to keep the Tower satisfied.
Kembial could have protested. But she knew her duty to her Sailmistress, to her ship, and to her people...and closest to her heart, her sister. The secret of the Windfinders could *not* be made known to the Aes Sedai. So instead of running, she stayed. She submitted, and was taken off to Tar Valon within the hour, just as the Aes Sedai had promised.