Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2019 14:04:36 GMT
Name: Micajah
Age: 29
Nationality: Atha'an Miere
Place of Birth: Lionfish Pride
Place of Residence: The Westlands
Affiliation: Tar Valon
Rank/Title: Gaidin Trainee
One Power Strength:
Air: * | Earth: * | Fire: * | Spirit: * | Water: *
# of Years as Novice/Soldier:
# of Years as Accepted/Dedicated:
# of Years as Aes Sedai/Asha'man:
Talents:
Weave Affinities:
Weapon Skills:
Martial: 5 | Hand-Held: 7 | Stave: 4 | Thrown: 5 | Ranged: 3 | Mounted: 0
Weight: 179
Build/Complexion: Lithe/Dark
Eye/Hair Color: Hazel/Black
Distinguishing Features:
This man bears the darker complexion of the Sea Folk. He stands fairly tall, and is lean and quick and well-conditioned. His facial features are refined, giving him an air of quiet dignity and a strength that is translated into his jawline. Long, dark hair falls down well past his shoulders, and is kept either free-flowing like a mane or drawn back with a simple cord of leather. His eyes are a dark hue of volcanic hazel that seems to smoulder with something burning inside of him.
The name he gives is the only one he uses. His clan name and salt name are relics of the past that he left behind on the seas - dead and drowned. People have gotten close to him from time to time, and he's usually okay with the nickname 'Mica'. Despite his history, Micajah isn't exactly a grim person, just more of a loner. He still appreciates life - love, wine, songs, and food and the like. There is just a hollowness ultimately to it, though sometimes he tries to bury it with too much drinking.
It begins at sea, though, on the Lionfish Pride, an Atha'an Miere raker where he was born into the Clan Rossaine to Alia din Jadris Twomoon and Coran din Maraad Sea's Blade. His mother was a prominent woman, being the ship's Windfinder. She was a strong presence in the ship and in his life. Even though Mica is no longer recognized as Atha'an Miere, he still thinks fondly of his family and feels the shame of dishonoring them.
That's getting ahead, though.
Micajah grew up with the life of most Sea Folk youngsters - learning the ways of the water and every aspect of the boat, from rigging on a raker to using a dinghy craft for blistering speed. He was chosen as a deckhand as an adolescent, and was also taught daily by his father in the use of the sword. Looking back, those are some of his best memories - being on the open ship's deck, the smooth-worn planks under his bare feet, the salt-tanged breeze cooling the sweat on his chest...and the ringing of steel-on-steel as his father taught him to dance like the waves with his sword as an extension of his arm and his will.
He worked hard and rose through the ranks, moving on from deckhand and learning under more of the elder voices of the clan. Although Mica was still fairly young, his name was discussed several times as a candidate for Cargomaster - an important step in any male Atha'an Miere's journey through Sea Folk hierarchy. He was a youth of great promise, and he was just a man of nineteen when he became a Cargomaster in his own right - on the raker Fairwind.
Judged as fair and able, Micajah enjoyed success as Cargomaster. He continued to train daily, keeping his goal of Swordmaster in sight.
He fell in love, though, and everything changed.
Love itself wasn't the problem. He was eligible and a rising star in the eyes of many. The problem came from the who...more specifically, the fact that he loved another man's wife. Lingering touches and casual glances turned into a full-blossomed affair. The fact that one could be carried out in the close confines of a ship is a credit to his logistical mind and intimate knowledge of every part of the raker. Her name was Kairis, and Micajah determined that they could be together if only he could make it happen. As Cargomaster, the power was within his hands...so he felt.
Mica began a slow and subtle process of changing the ship's logbooks to make it look as if the other man had been stealing money for his own use. The ruse worked, and the ship called a moot to gather and determine what the punishment should be. The day of the hearing, though, after having stayed awake all night and staring into the dark sky, Micajah instead came forward and confessed to everything - the affair and the deceit.
It was determined that he be stripped of his duties as Cargomaster, naturally, and brought down low, returning to the rank of deckhand. Micajah's shame was manifold - his family, his position, everything...so much that he instead demanded that he be given a small boat instead to row ashore. If the seas allowed him to make it, he would become the Shorebound - exiled forever from the community of the Atha'an Miere, always able to see the waves but never truly live among them. It was a fate far worse than summary execution, but he knew that his family would not have to bear the shame of seeing him. A clean, quick kill instead of a long, slow bleeding. It was mercy, but not for him.
So with only a few day's rations and the long, sinuous blade at his side, Micajah departed the Atha'an Miere and came ashore.
He followed the path of many drifters before him since time immemorial...town to town, city to city, job to job. Mica's expertise with the blade served him well, hiring himself out to various marcher lords and local levies, finding kidnap victims, hunting outlaws, everything that a sellsword does. The coin was fair, but he wasted most of it on drinking. Job, pay, drink, repeat - a cycle that continued for years until he finally found himself in over his head. Drunk and staggering, he was surrounded in an alley by four or five other killers. Taking down that many is a feat of legend even for a sober man, for a drunk it was basically hopeless. He had embraced his death, knowing that it would bring him the peace that his life had lacked since coming ashore...and then he was saved.
She was Aes Sedai - still a more unknown aspect among the Atha'an Miere, even after the changes wrought by the coming of the Coramoor a century ago. This mysterious woman set him on a path to the White Tower's training grounds, where the role of Gaidin Trainee has brought him new purpose.
'Whose' purpose, though, remains to be seen.
Books read: All
Age: 29
Nationality: Atha'an Miere
Place of Birth: Lionfish Pride
Place of Residence: The Westlands
Affiliation: Tar Valon
Rank/Title: Gaidin Trainee
One Power Strength:
Air: * | Earth: * | Fire: * | Spirit: * | Water: *
# of Years as Novice/Soldier:
# of Years as Accepted/Dedicated:
# of Years as Aes Sedai/Asha'man:
Talents:
Weave Affinities:
Weapon Skills:
Martial: 5 | Hand-Held: 7 | Stave: 4 | Thrown: 5 | Ranged: 3 | Mounted: 0
APPEARANCE
Height: 5'10"Weight: 179
Build/Complexion: Lithe/Dark
Eye/Hair Color: Hazel/Black
Distinguishing Features:
- Tattoo (Right Hand): Six-pointed star
- Tattoo (Left Hand): Back-to-back crescent moons
This man bears the darker complexion of the Sea Folk. He stands fairly tall, and is lean and quick and well-conditioned. His facial features are refined, giving him an air of quiet dignity and a strength that is translated into his jawline. Long, dark hair falls down well past his shoulders, and is kept either free-flowing like a mane or drawn back with a simple cord of leather. His eyes are a dark hue of volcanic hazel that seems to smoulder with something burning inside of him.
PERSONALITY
Micajah is a quiet, reserved kind of person whenever you first meet him. Even when you get to know him (and he calls few 'friend'), he can still be just as inscrutable as a stranger. That is what he has felt like his entire time since becoming Shorebound - a stranger. This land is not his own, it was never his, or his family's, or his entire people's. The Atha'an Miere have known only the seas since the Breaking, and even though he chose this life, it still makes him a drifter. His skill with the blade speaks loudly enough, and those who hire out mercenaries often don't really care if the sell-sword they're buying has a chatty personality or not.The name he gives is the only one he uses. His clan name and salt name are relics of the past that he left behind on the seas - dead and drowned. People have gotten close to him from time to time, and he's usually okay with the nickname 'Mica'. Despite his history, Micajah isn't exactly a grim person, just more of a loner. He still appreciates life - love, wine, songs, and food and the like. There is just a hollowness ultimately to it, though sometimes he tries to bury it with too much drinking.
HISTORY
Where does a man go when home is no longer a home? What becomes of him, and what does he do? Micajah's story so far is a study in the answering of those questions. It begins at sea, though, on the Lionfish Pride, an Atha'an Miere raker where he was born into the Clan Rossaine to Alia din Jadris Twomoon and Coran din Maraad Sea's Blade. His mother was a prominent woman, being the ship's Windfinder. She was a strong presence in the ship and in his life. Even though Mica is no longer recognized as Atha'an Miere, he still thinks fondly of his family and feels the shame of dishonoring them.
That's getting ahead, though.
Micajah grew up with the life of most Sea Folk youngsters - learning the ways of the water and every aspect of the boat, from rigging on a raker to using a dinghy craft for blistering speed. He was chosen as a deckhand as an adolescent, and was also taught daily by his father in the use of the sword. Looking back, those are some of his best memories - being on the open ship's deck, the smooth-worn planks under his bare feet, the salt-tanged breeze cooling the sweat on his chest...and the ringing of steel-on-steel as his father taught him to dance like the waves with his sword as an extension of his arm and his will.
He worked hard and rose through the ranks, moving on from deckhand and learning under more of the elder voices of the clan. Although Mica was still fairly young, his name was discussed several times as a candidate for Cargomaster - an important step in any male Atha'an Miere's journey through Sea Folk hierarchy. He was a youth of great promise, and he was just a man of nineteen when he became a Cargomaster in his own right - on the raker Fairwind.
Judged as fair and able, Micajah enjoyed success as Cargomaster. He continued to train daily, keeping his goal of Swordmaster in sight.
He fell in love, though, and everything changed.
Love itself wasn't the problem. He was eligible and a rising star in the eyes of many. The problem came from the who...more specifically, the fact that he loved another man's wife. Lingering touches and casual glances turned into a full-blossomed affair. The fact that one could be carried out in the close confines of a ship is a credit to his logistical mind and intimate knowledge of every part of the raker. Her name was Kairis, and Micajah determined that they could be together if only he could make it happen. As Cargomaster, the power was within his hands...so he felt.
Mica began a slow and subtle process of changing the ship's logbooks to make it look as if the other man had been stealing money for his own use. The ruse worked, and the ship called a moot to gather and determine what the punishment should be. The day of the hearing, though, after having stayed awake all night and staring into the dark sky, Micajah instead came forward and confessed to everything - the affair and the deceit.
It was determined that he be stripped of his duties as Cargomaster, naturally, and brought down low, returning to the rank of deckhand. Micajah's shame was manifold - his family, his position, everything...so much that he instead demanded that he be given a small boat instead to row ashore. If the seas allowed him to make it, he would become the Shorebound - exiled forever from the community of the Atha'an Miere, always able to see the waves but never truly live among them. It was a fate far worse than summary execution, but he knew that his family would not have to bear the shame of seeing him. A clean, quick kill instead of a long, slow bleeding. It was mercy, but not for him.
So with only a few day's rations and the long, sinuous blade at his side, Micajah departed the Atha'an Miere and came ashore.
He followed the path of many drifters before him since time immemorial...town to town, city to city, job to job. Mica's expertise with the blade served him well, hiring himself out to various marcher lords and local levies, finding kidnap victims, hunting outlaws, everything that a sellsword does. The coin was fair, but he wasted most of it on drinking. Job, pay, drink, repeat - a cycle that continued for years until he finally found himself in over his head. Drunk and staggering, he was surrounded in an alley by four or five other killers. Taking down that many is a feat of legend even for a sober man, for a drunk it was basically hopeless. He had embraced his death, knowing that it would bring him the peace that his life had lacked since coming ashore...and then he was saved.
She was Aes Sedai - still a more unknown aspect among the Atha'an Miere, even after the changes wrought by the coming of the Coramoor a century ago. This mysterious woman set him on a path to the White Tower's training grounds, where the role of Gaidin Trainee has brought him new purpose.
'Whose' purpose, though, remains to be seen.
Books read: All