Post by Ezrah Annallin on Apr 14, 2019 18:37:14 GMT
Name: Ezrah Annallin / Ezio Nillanna (During time away from BT)
Age: 117
Nationality:Cairhien
Place of Birth:Cairhien
Place of Residence: BT
Affiliation: BT/Self
Rank/Title: Asha'man Earth Legion
One Power Strength: 8
Air: 7 | Earth: 9 | Fire: 9 | Spirit: 7 | Water: 7
# of Years as Novice/Soldier: 10
# of Years as Accepted/Dedicated: 9
# of Years as Aes Sedai/Asha'man: 46
# of Years as a Captain: 10
Talents: None
Weapon Skills:
Martial: 7 | Hand-Held: 8 | Stave: 4 | Thrown: 8 | Ranged: 9 | Mounted: 5
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 165
Build/Complexion: Lean/Pale
Eye/Hair Color: Brown/Black
Distinguishing Features:
Ezrah is a tall man of lean wiry muscle with a long face and long nose that has often gotten him mistaken for a Saldean. His eyes are nearly black and topped by bushy black eyebrows and a thick head of hair that seems perpetually messy. Even when he does make an effort (which isn't often) a habit of running hands through his hair sets it messy again. His square chin is always stubbled with dark hair, even a morning shave will see him with a healthy 5 o clock shadow. There is a practiced carelessness to his look. Ezrah doesn't want to put real work into it but he also doesn't want to look bad-lucky plenty of men and woman find his just out of bed style charming. He shows a bit more care with his clothing. Black boots, black pants and a black cloth jacket are his standard-none of those pesky black tower pins mind you! And a dress shirt. No matter how much or little clothing he wears Ezrah always seems to have at least one pipe and plenty of knives. It's a habit that's served him well along the border and during his various travels away from the tower.
Ezrah is a man of many masks. Outwardly he presents a jovial air, he is an unrepentant hedonist who seems to take nothing and no one too seriously. Real work holds no interest. It is to be avoided at every opportunity. Instead Ezrah prefers to indulge his vices, something he does regularly. Sex, drinking, music, and gambling-he is almost always enjoying one or more of these or in the pursuit of them! Don't bother lecturing him on honor or the creator or any of that rubbish. He doesn't give a wit about it. The Dark One and the Creator are two sides of the same coin-powers that treat men as pawns if they bother to care at all. He shows a similar disrespect for politics. Only playing along if it gets him something he wants or provides an amusing way to annoy those around him. Really anyone of high status or bloodline is likely to get his scorn.
Despite his ego (or maybe because of it) he isn't easily riled to real anger. Whats the point of getting worked up anyway? No fun! If anything Ezrah is more prone to childishly antagonize someone else. Especially if they are easily embarrassed or annoyed by his carefree lifestyle. He likes to flirt with men and women as much for the pleasure of it as he enjoys throwing them off kilter. Luckily his mischief is mostly harmless. He doesnt WANT to care about anything or get involved in anything that would actually require a serious turn.
While he will happily play the fool Ezrah is anything but. His carefree attitude masks a sharp mind. Not that he is quick to show that side of himself. He plays the cards very close to his chest, not trusting anyone. His fears, his weakness, his rage-these are things he works very VERY hard to keep tightly wrapped up. Only releasing his true moods in violent flashes when he is alone. Guilt over his wife and unborn childs death still plagues him. He failed the people who need him most. He failed his family. He failed his men. Those that knew him best as a Captain knew he took every lose personally and always had. Now Ezrah wants none of it. He doesn't want to be attached. He doesn't want to be responsible. He played his bloody part and burnt the whole thing to the ground. Let him rot in peace burn you!
Before the death of his wife and his spiral downward Ezrah was a man that practically vibrated energy. He was never content to let things be-always wanting to improve and do more. This led to a very hands on approach and it wasn't uncommon for the man to be in the thick of it with his charges. No task was beneath him as a Captain. His patience for politics or appearances was never high. A mans bloodline or reputation meant nothing compared to his performance. If anything it was the noble who had more to prove then the sheep farmer. It annoyed as many as it endeared. More then once his rough matter of fact way rubbed even his fellow Captains wrong. Despite all this he got results and had a promising career. There is no denying the man who calls himself Ezrah Annallin is a far cry from what he once was.
"Pay attention boy. This is what happens to a man who plays daes dae'mar poorly"
Ezrah was all of nine years old when he heard those words. Standing in the crowd with his uncle on a cold fall morning, he was waiting for the axeman to walk onto the scaffolding. Where the somber faced fellow would commence with carrying out the sentence bestowed on his father and four other doomed souls. Their crimes were against the crown though the plots of treason were nothing none of the other houses had committed. Rather they had been sloppy. And foolish. House Annallin had been rising in power through smart marriages and remaining neutral. Years later Ezrah would learn what many that day already knew: his father had been a pawn for a more powerful houses ambition. He'd died for nothing and doomed his family in the process. Only Uncle Owains interference kept the Annallin name from being ruined completely. Which was how young Ezrah found himself beside his Uncle that faithful morning. A show of support for the crowns decision his uncle had said. There would be no public mourning for a man deemed a traitor. As the oldest boy and his mother bedridden from a difficult labor it fell on his shoulders to play the game.
So with his Uncles hand heavy on the back of his neck Ezrah stood and watched as men and women were put to death. Some familiar. Some strangers. By the time his father mounted the steps it had all blurred into some wretched dream. He hated them all. The people in the crowd who watched each other as much as those being put to death. The speeches made by groveling minor lords, in hopes their final words of subservience would spare their houses further shame. In the end Ezrah did his Uncle proud. He watched every last man and woman kneel before the axemen without looking away. Even his father. Five souls in total. Never to be spoken of again.
Uncle Owains actions were severe to save what was left of the houses reputation. They were also necessary. With the majority of traitors coming from their family they were publicly pariahs. Privately they were mocked or pitied. Ezrah's friends were gone and the families wealth waned thin. What money they did have went largely into buying their good graces back with Cairhien society. It all proved too much for his mother. Two years after her husbands execution she begged her family to allow her to return home with her children. So the little family packed up and left Cairhien for Andor. While his brother and sister were too young to fully appreciate what was happening Ezrah did. Leaving felt like a defeat. It also meant leaving his Uncle behind. A man the boy both loved and hated by turns. Yet Andor was his mothers first home and to Andor they did return. Her family there were not noble but wealthy merchants. It was money that had bought her a good marriage and title. Returning with three youngsters and a disgraced lineage was not the investment her parents had planned on.
His siblings settled into their new lives quickly but Ezrah never felt like he fit in with his mothers family. They fed and clothed him, even continuing the lessons he'd been taking in Cairhien. Yet their house was no home. The hopes were that maybe the boy would prove useful to the family business...it was not to be. He was a modest student at best, having little interest in sitting still for lessons. Instead Ezzie as he was nicknamed always looked forward to music and weaponry. While wildly different these allowed an outlet for his seeming endless energy. He needed to DO things not simply study them passively. Ezrah had no patience for being a merchant, he had no mind for politics, and no desire for marriage. His family was truly at a loss for what to do with the boy. Ezrah himself seemed only to know what he did NOT want. In the end the teenager was preparing to return to Cairhien when a chance encounter with a man in a black coat changed his life.
"You have potential boy, don't squander it"
When at 17 an Asha'man approached him in the market Ezrah was surprised. And intrigued. He was restless and without direction. He had never thought he was capable of being able to use the one power.... but according to the older man he could. And would. In fact it was really less of an invitation and more a demand. So Ezrah agreed to go to the black tower. It proved to be exactly what the young man needed. In the black tower Ezrah found the structure and the purpose he had been lacking for so long. He was strong. He worked hard. If anything was said ill of him during his years training it was that Ezrah had little patience for politics and niceties. He cared about the task, not the flowery details. He also had a way of holding others at distance. Aside from a dalliance here and there with a fellow student or a pretty servant he was focused on training. Early into his time as a soldier the young man set his sights on Earth legion. The task as much as the lifestyle appealed to him. He worked hard and after a number of years became a full fledged Asha'man of the Earth legion.
While his distaste for nobility and politics made Ezrah unsuitable as a war advisor he WAS exceptional on the battlefield. The Black Tower trained him but years on the border honed him into a fine weapon. When he was recalled for the siege on Tar Valon the young Asha'man wasn't exactly thrilled...he'd been largely neutral to M'hael Rahlins anti Aes Sedai policy. Fighting shadow span made the most sense and was preferable to all enemies. Yet good soldiers obeyed orders. Ezrah was among the men who fought and killed during the siege on the white tower. It was an ugly business. Ezrah saw much of it. Like many men on battlefield he had to believe in what he was doing...otherwise what was the point? If they didn't trust in the M'hael why were they killing and dying every day? Despite his faith in the Black Tower after two years it was clear something had to change. Even with his lack of taste for policy making the Asha'man understood when the uprising came. He didn't like it mind you. It felt wrong. Of course attacking the bloody White Tower felt wrong too. It was a necessary evil in the end. Even if it would forever leave a bad taste in Ezrahs mouth, the way the M'hael met his end. Comparatively fighting Shadowspawn was easy! Ezrah was all too happy to return North where things were simpler. After the uprising he made a point of spending as little time as possible back at the Black Tower. It felt tainted by the uprising and too full of intrigue for his soldiers heart.
Ezrah wanted to keep his life simple. For a time he did. And then something entirely unexpected happened, during his time on the border the stoic Asha'man actually fell in love. A pretty and fierce little Saldean women named Meegan thawed much ofEzrah's ice. He loved her deeply and after a few months of courting they were married. Without complaint she joined him as he was sent here and there along the border. While some men bonded their wives Ezrah ultimately decided against it. There was something about the bond that was too personal, touching his soul too deep. Even for his wife. Not to mention he had a dangerous duty and didn't want his eventual death to strike her any deeper than it already would. Funny thing, even with his aging slowed Ezrah always imagined he would die first.
A year later Ezrah was raised to Captain. It was a huge honor. And a heavy burden. He was happiest in the thick of battle with his men. This new position saw the Asha'man needing to step back slightly. He had more people to care for. It was no light task. He took the responsibility to heart and worked even harder to prove himself worthy, working himself to exhaustion regularly. Doubtlessly anyone but a Saldean wife would have likely left but Meegan understood the pressure Ezrah was under and didn't mind living along the Border. Often staying in tents or cold stone battlements. She was a firm support at his side and any who knew him knew he was happiest walking wife his wife by his side. No matter how somber he grew Meegan always seemed to bring him from his darkness. This went on for six years. It was only when she discovered her pregnancy that his wife settled for the safety of a village further back along the border instead of life among the tents and ramparts. While happy at the news he would be a father Ezrah didn't slow down a hair.
Meegan was seven months pregnant the worst day of his life. As if by omen the day was miserable from the start. Freezing rain and wind turned what should have been a mild fall day into a mess. Ezrah had been in the field with his men for two days, a large contingent of trollocs had been seen along the edge of the border marching toward Shienar. Strange mist hid much of their movements and rain washed away their tracks. Everything suggested they were mounting an attack. So Ezrah and his men went to intercept the lot of them. When word came from a scout that a small party had broken away and was heading south no one thought much of it. Whether a small scouting party or a group of Trollocs that had snuck off from under a fades supervision...it didn't matter. It was a small enough force that Ezrah sent a few of his men to deal with the issue. He thought no more on it and instead pushed himself and the majority of his men East toward the large gathering of shadowspawn.
It was a mistake. And a trick. It turned out they had been chasing the small contingent. A lure to draw them away. A trick to keep them distracted. Someone had used the one power to toy with his scouts minds. Create a trail that did not exist. While they had gone chasing a few dozen trollocs and a handful of fade along the border... a deadlier force had been gathering. Darkhounds and Trollocs and Myrddraal had poured out of the blight in a rush. With the bulk of his forces gone the villages in the shadow spawns path had stood no chance. The small force sent to dispatch the much larger threat had been wiped out. Only one man was able to get a message back before he too died of his injuries. They scrambled to travel back to warn and protect but it was too late for many. Ezrah and his men returned to a fortress under siege, caught between the solid walls and the returning vengeful Asha'man every last shadow spawn died that day. Though their deaths would not undo the damage their march had brought.
Someone had betrayed them to the shadow, had used the one power to fool him....though that wasn't the worst news of the day. Not by a mile.
"It's all gone Ez. The village, the farm, Mageen...they burned everything"
The messenger had to repeat himself two-three times before the words seemed to sink in. Gone. It was all gone. His home. His wife. His unborn child. All gone. All because he had made the wrong call. Something in Ezrah untethered that day. Suddenly every decision was paralyzing, every instinct questioned. Every spare moment became consumed with what ifs and the guilt of how his obsession with duty had led to the demise of his wife and child. While those around him hoped he would recover Ezrah only continued to fray. His work suffered, he drank, and those around him were no longer a comfort. Someone had betrayed them. Although truthfully Ezrah blamed himself more then anyone. The Black Tower and the Asha'man had been his home and his family for so long....not they were a constant reminder of what he had sacrificed. Who he had failed. Down and down Ezrah spiraled, seeming to suffocate under the weight of it all. He resigned as a Captain though that did little to slow his descent. Eventually he could bear it no more. Gaining an audience with the M'hael and his Captain General Ezrah outright begged to be set free. He couldn't stand another minute of it. He needed to get out-get away.... 'Kill me or let me go but please-let me out of this blight' the Asha'man begged on bent knee. Pity or understanding drove the powers that be to allow him freedom from his obligations. He had once been a fine Captain and a strong channeler. The hope was maybe this time away would salvage his mind and make him useful again.
The question was, where would Ezrah go?
"He's washed up! A disgrace. The bastard should just crawl in a hole and die already"
In need of a change. In need of distance. He took what he could carry and went as far from the tower and duty and his past as he could go. Adopting the name Ezio Nillanna during his travels. The next twenty years passed in a blur. The man drank his way from coast to coast. He indulged every vice, he distracted himself with every pleasure to be found. There was more then one soul in the the black tower who thought it might be best to simply put the man out of his misery... Though interestingly enough it seemed whenever anyone pinned down exactly where the disgraced Asha'man had gone he'd vanish in the wind. Missing for weeks on end only to reappear somewhere new. For his part Ezrah kept a low profile, limiting his use of the one power and interfering little in matters of significance. He passed himself off as a ruined soldier or a disgraced noble or a merchants son. All truth. All lies.
How long could he go on squandering his life? Ezrah planned to find out. Unfortunately with the rise of a new M'hael there was change in the black tower. It seemed the powers that be were no longer content to let a man rot in peace. Suddenly Ezrah had to work much harder to go unseen. More people asking questions plagued him. More Asha'man about. Eventually his luck ran out and an order to return came that not even Ezrah could refuse. Though he tried.
Books read: All
Age: 117
Nationality:Cairhien
Place of Birth:Cairhien
Place of Residence: BT
Affiliation: BT/Self
Rank/Title: Asha'man Earth Legion
One Power Strength: 8
Air: 7 | Earth: 9 | Fire: 9 | Spirit: 7 | Water: 7
# of Years as Novice/Soldier: 10
# of Years as Accepted/Dedicated: 9
# of Years as Aes Sedai/Asha'man: 46
# of Years as a Captain: 10
Talents: None
Weapon Skills:
Martial: 7 | Hand-Held: 8 | Stave: 4 | Thrown: 8 | Ranged: 9 | Mounted: 5
APPEARANCE
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 165
Build/Complexion: Lean/Pale
Eye/Hair Color: Brown/Black
Distinguishing Features:
- Prominent nose
- Bushy eyebrows
- Constant stubble
- Always smells faintly of tobacco and oak
Ezrah is a tall man of lean wiry muscle with a long face and long nose that has often gotten him mistaken for a Saldean. His eyes are nearly black and topped by bushy black eyebrows and a thick head of hair that seems perpetually messy. Even when he does make an effort (which isn't often) a habit of running hands through his hair sets it messy again. His square chin is always stubbled with dark hair, even a morning shave will see him with a healthy 5 o clock shadow. There is a practiced carelessness to his look. Ezrah doesn't want to put real work into it but he also doesn't want to look bad-lucky plenty of men and woman find his just out of bed style charming. He shows a bit more care with his clothing. Black boots, black pants and a black cloth jacket are his standard-none of those pesky black tower pins mind you! And a dress shirt. No matter how much or little clothing he wears Ezrah always seems to have at least one pipe and plenty of knives. It's a habit that's served him well along the border and during his various travels away from the tower.
PERSONALITY
Ezrah is a man of many masks. Outwardly he presents a jovial air, he is an unrepentant hedonist who seems to take nothing and no one too seriously. Real work holds no interest. It is to be avoided at every opportunity. Instead Ezrah prefers to indulge his vices, something he does regularly. Sex, drinking, music, and gambling-he is almost always enjoying one or more of these or in the pursuit of them! Don't bother lecturing him on honor or the creator or any of that rubbish. He doesn't give a wit about it. The Dark One and the Creator are two sides of the same coin-powers that treat men as pawns if they bother to care at all. He shows a similar disrespect for politics. Only playing along if it gets him something he wants or provides an amusing way to annoy those around him. Really anyone of high status or bloodline is likely to get his scorn.
Despite his ego (or maybe because of it) he isn't easily riled to real anger. Whats the point of getting worked up anyway? No fun! If anything Ezrah is more prone to childishly antagonize someone else. Especially if they are easily embarrassed or annoyed by his carefree lifestyle. He likes to flirt with men and women as much for the pleasure of it as he enjoys throwing them off kilter. Luckily his mischief is mostly harmless. He doesnt WANT to care about anything or get involved in anything that would actually require a serious turn.
While he will happily play the fool Ezrah is anything but. His carefree attitude masks a sharp mind. Not that he is quick to show that side of himself. He plays the cards very close to his chest, not trusting anyone. His fears, his weakness, his rage-these are things he works very VERY hard to keep tightly wrapped up. Only releasing his true moods in violent flashes when he is alone. Guilt over his wife and unborn childs death still plagues him. He failed the people who need him most. He failed his family. He failed his men. Those that knew him best as a Captain knew he took every lose personally and always had. Now Ezrah wants none of it. He doesn't want to be attached. He doesn't want to be responsible. He played his bloody part and burnt the whole thing to the ground. Let him rot in peace burn you!
Before the death of his wife and his spiral downward Ezrah was a man that practically vibrated energy. He was never content to let things be-always wanting to improve and do more. This led to a very hands on approach and it wasn't uncommon for the man to be in the thick of it with his charges. No task was beneath him as a Captain. His patience for politics or appearances was never high. A mans bloodline or reputation meant nothing compared to his performance. If anything it was the noble who had more to prove then the sheep farmer. It annoyed as many as it endeared. More then once his rough matter of fact way rubbed even his fellow Captains wrong. Despite all this he got results and had a promising career. There is no denying the man who calls himself Ezrah Annallin is a far cry from what he once was.
HISTORY
"Pay attention boy. This is what happens to a man who plays daes dae'mar poorly"
Ezrah was all of nine years old when he heard those words. Standing in the crowd with his uncle on a cold fall morning, he was waiting for the axeman to walk onto the scaffolding. Where the somber faced fellow would commence with carrying out the sentence bestowed on his father and four other doomed souls. Their crimes were against the crown though the plots of treason were nothing none of the other houses had committed. Rather they had been sloppy. And foolish. House Annallin had been rising in power through smart marriages and remaining neutral. Years later Ezrah would learn what many that day already knew: his father had been a pawn for a more powerful houses ambition. He'd died for nothing and doomed his family in the process. Only Uncle Owains interference kept the Annallin name from being ruined completely. Which was how young Ezrah found himself beside his Uncle that faithful morning. A show of support for the crowns decision his uncle had said. There would be no public mourning for a man deemed a traitor. As the oldest boy and his mother bedridden from a difficult labor it fell on his shoulders to play the game.
So with his Uncles hand heavy on the back of his neck Ezrah stood and watched as men and women were put to death. Some familiar. Some strangers. By the time his father mounted the steps it had all blurred into some wretched dream. He hated them all. The people in the crowd who watched each other as much as those being put to death. The speeches made by groveling minor lords, in hopes their final words of subservience would spare their houses further shame. In the end Ezrah did his Uncle proud. He watched every last man and woman kneel before the axemen without looking away. Even his father. Five souls in total. Never to be spoken of again.
Uncle Owains actions were severe to save what was left of the houses reputation. They were also necessary. With the majority of traitors coming from their family they were publicly pariahs. Privately they were mocked or pitied. Ezrah's friends were gone and the families wealth waned thin. What money they did have went largely into buying their good graces back with Cairhien society. It all proved too much for his mother. Two years after her husbands execution she begged her family to allow her to return home with her children. So the little family packed up and left Cairhien for Andor. While his brother and sister were too young to fully appreciate what was happening Ezrah did. Leaving felt like a defeat. It also meant leaving his Uncle behind. A man the boy both loved and hated by turns. Yet Andor was his mothers first home and to Andor they did return. Her family there were not noble but wealthy merchants. It was money that had bought her a good marriage and title. Returning with three youngsters and a disgraced lineage was not the investment her parents had planned on.
His siblings settled into their new lives quickly but Ezrah never felt like he fit in with his mothers family. They fed and clothed him, even continuing the lessons he'd been taking in Cairhien. Yet their house was no home. The hopes were that maybe the boy would prove useful to the family business...it was not to be. He was a modest student at best, having little interest in sitting still for lessons. Instead Ezzie as he was nicknamed always looked forward to music and weaponry. While wildly different these allowed an outlet for his seeming endless energy. He needed to DO things not simply study them passively. Ezrah had no patience for being a merchant, he had no mind for politics, and no desire for marriage. His family was truly at a loss for what to do with the boy. Ezrah himself seemed only to know what he did NOT want. In the end the teenager was preparing to return to Cairhien when a chance encounter with a man in a black coat changed his life.
"You have potential boy, don't squander it"
When at 17 an Asha'man approached him in the market Ezrah was surprised. And intrigued. He was restless and without direction. He had never thought he was capable of being able to use the one power.... but according to the older man he could. And would. In fact it was really less of an invitation and more a demand. So Ezrah agreed to go to the black tower. It proved to be exactly what the young man needed. In the black tower Ezrah found the structure and the purpose he had been lacking for so long. He was strong. He worked hard. If anything was said ill of him during his years training it was that Ezrah had little patience for politics and niceties. He cared about the task, not the flowery details. He also had a way of holding others at distance. Aside from a dalliance here and there with a fellow student or a pretty servant he was focused on training. Early into his time as a soldier the young man set his sights on Earth legion. The task as much as the lifestyle appealed to him. He worked hard and after a number of years became a full fledged Asha'man of the Earth legion.
While his distaste for nobility and politics made Ezrah unsuitable as a war advisor he WAS exceptional on the battlefield. The Black Tower trained him but years on the border honed him into a fine weapon. When he was recalled for the siege on Tar Valon the young Asha'man wasn't exactly thrilled...he'd been largely neutral to M'hael Rahlins anti Aes Sedai policy. Fighting shadow span made the most sense and was preferable to all enemies. Yet good soldiers obeyed orders. Ezrah was among the men who fought and killed during the siege on the white tower. It was an ugly business. Ezrah saw much of it. Like many men on battlefield he had to believe in what he was doing...otherwise what was the point? If they didn't trust in the M'hael why were they killing and dying every day? Despite his faith in the Black Tower after two years it was clear something had to change. Even with his lack of taste for policy making the Asha'man understood when the uprising came. He didn't like it mind you. It felt wrong. Of course attacking the bloody White Tower felt wrong too. It was a necessary evil in the end. Even if it would forever leave a bad taste in Ezrahs mouth, the way the M'hael met his end. Comparatively fighting Shadowspawn was easy! Ezrah was all too happy to return North where things were simpler. After the uprising he made a point of spending as little time as possible back at the Black Tower. It felt tainted by the uprising and too full of intrigue for his soldiers heart.
Ezrah wanted to keep his life simple. For a time he did. And then something entirely unexpected happened, during his time on the border the stoic Asha'man actually fell in love. A pretty and fierce little Saldean women named Meegan thawed much ofEzrah's ice. He loved her deeply and after a few months of courting they were married. Without complaint she joined him as he was sent here and there along the border. While some men bonded their wives Ezrah ultimately decided against it. There was something about the bond that was too personal, touching his soul too deep. Even for his wife. Not to mention he had a dangerous duty and didn't want his eventual death to strike her any deeper than it already would. Funny thing, even with his aging slowed Ezrah always imagined he would die first.
A year later Ezrah was raised to Captain. It was a huge honor. And a heavy burden. He was happiest in the thick of battle with his men. This new position saw the Asha'man needing to step back slightly. He had more people to care for. It was no light task. He took the responsibility to heart and worked even harder to prove himself worthy, working himself to exhaustion regularly. Doubtlessly anyone but a Saldean wife would have likely left but Meegan understood the pressure Ezrah was under and didn't mind living along the Border. Often staying in tents or cold stone battlements. She was a firm support at his side and any who knew him knew he was happiest walking wife his wife by his side. No matter how somber he grew Meegan always seemed to bring him from his darkness. This went on for six years. It was only when she discovered her pregnancy that his wife settled for the safety of a village further back along the border instead of life among the tents and ramparts. While happy at the news he would be a father Ezrah didn't slow down a hair.
Meegan was seven months pregnant the worst day of his life. As if by omen the day was miserable from the start. Freezing rain and wind turned what should have been a mild fall day into a mess. Ezrah had been in the field with his men for two days, a large contingent of trollocs had been seen along the edge of the border marching toward Shienar. Strange mist hid much of their movements and rain washed away their tracks. Everything suggested they were mounting an attack. So Ezrah and his men went to intercept the lot of them. When word came from a scout that a small party had broken away and was heading south no one thought much of it. Whether a small scouting party or a group of Trollocs that had snuck off from under a fades supervision...it didn't matter. It was a small enough force that Ezrah sent a few of his men to deal with the issue. He thought no more on it and instead pushed himself and the majority of his men East toward the large gathering of shadowspawn.
It was a mistake. And a trick. It turned out they had been chasing the small contingent. A lure to draw them away. A trick to keep them distracted. Someone had used the one power to toy with his scouts minds. Create a trail that did not exist. While they had gone chasing a few dozen trollocs and a handful of fade along the border... a deadlier force had been gathering. Darkhounds and Trollocs and Myrddraal had poured out of the blight in a rush. With the bulk of his forces gone the villages in the shadow spawns path had stood no chance. The small force sent to dispatch the much larger threat had been wiped out. Only one man was able to get a message back before he too died of his injuries. They scrambled to travel back to warn and protect but it was too late for many. Ezrah and his men returned to a fortress under siege, caught between the solid walls and the returning vengeful Asha'man every last shadow spawn died that day. Though their deaths would not undo the damage their march had brought.
Someone had betrayed them to the shadow, had used the one power to fool him....though that wasn't the worst news of the day. Not by a mile.
"It's all gone Ez. The village, the farm, Mageen...they burned everything"
The messenger had to repeat himself two-three times before the words seemed to sink in. Gone. It was all gone. His home. His wife. His unborn child. All gone. All because he had made the wrong call. Something in Ezrah untethered that day. Suddenly every decision was paralyzing, every instinct questioned. Every spare moment became consumed with what ifs and the guilt of how his obsession with duty had led to the demise of his wife and child. While those around him hoped he would recover Ezrah only continued to fray. His work suffered, he drank, and those around him were no longer a comfort. Someone had betrayed them. Although truthfully Ezrah blamed himself more then anyone. The Black Tower and the Asha'man had been his home and his family for so long....not they were a constant reminder of what he had sacrificed. Who he had failed. Down and down Ezrah spiraled, seeming to suffocate under the weight of it all. He resigned as a Captain though that did little to slow his descent. Eventually he could bear it no more. Gaining an audience with the M'hael and his Captain General Ezrah outright begged to be set free. He couldn't stand another minute of it. He needed to get out-get away.... 'Kill me or let me go but please-let me out of this blight' the Asha'man begged on bent knee. Pity or understanding drove the powers that be to allow him freedom from his obligations. He had once been a fine Captain and a strong channeler. The hope was maybe this time away would salvage his mind and make him useful again.
The question was, where would Ezrah go?
"He's washed up! A disgrace. The bastard should just crawl in a hole and die already"
In need of a change. In need of distance. He took what he could carry and went as far from the tower and duty and his past as he could go. Adopting the name Ezio Nillanna during his travels. The next twenty years passed in a blur. The man drank his way from coast to coast. He indulged every vice, he distracted himself with every pleasure to be found. There was more then one soul in the the black tower who thought it might be best to simply put the man out of his misery... Though interestingly enough it seemed whenever anyone pinned down exactly where the disgraced Asha'man had gone he'd vanish in the wind. Missing for weeks on end only to reappear somewhere new. For his part Ezrah kept a low profile, limiting his use of the one power and interfering little in matters of significance. He passed himself off as a ruined soldier or a disgraced noble or a merchants son. All truth. All lies.
How long could he go on squandering his life? Ezrah planned to find out. Unfortunately with the rise of a new M'hael there was change in the black tower. It seemed the powers that be were no longer content to let a man rot in peace. Suddenly Ezrah had to work much harder to go unseen. More people asking questions plagued him. More Asha'man about. Eventually his luck ran out and an order to return came that not even Ezrah could refuse. Though he tried.
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