Wheel of Time MUD

Character Bio
General Information
Full name: Jenda Myriam Sharaad
Nickname: Jenda
Age: less
Gender: Female
Preferred Pronoun: Her
Nationality: Saldaean
City of birth: Unknown, but upbringing was a farmstead far southwest of Maradon
The current place for living: The White Tower
Job title: Yellow Ajah Master Sitter
Clan: Yellow Ajah
Marital status: Never

Background
How would you describe the childhood of the character?
A rather normal, privileged life on a farm. Two loving yet elderly parents and saw the farmhands as cousins, siblings and conquests. As a Wilder, showed signs of channeling and the Talent of Healing. Was taken to the White Tower after that.

How would you describe the teenage years of the character?
Fun. A lot of rebellion and flirtation, until she was brought to the Tower as a wilder.

How would you describe the adulthood of the character?
Yellow Ajah, the exploits of which are many.

Relationships
Foster Father: Hiram Sharaad
Father: unknown
Foster Mother: Myriam ni Tiral ti Sharaad
Mother: unknown
Sisters or brothers: The farmhands on the Sharaad farm.
Wife/husband/partner: Varies
Children: None
Other important persons:
Relationships with other characters: Whoever is useful
Marshall - Gaidin
Etain - Friend
Ominas - Friend
Eldrenia - Friend
Ashlynn - Friend
And many more

Physical Characteristics: Dark tilted eyes, hawkish nose, waist length straight black hair. and can dance the sa'sara
Addictions: flirting and talking smack
Bad Habits: Saldaean temper, vanity
Color of Eyes: dark brown, almost black
The color of Hair: black
The color of Skin: swarthy
Dialect: Country Saldaean
Drinking habits: For fun
Smoking habits: None
Disabilities: None
Illnesses: Hidden scars
Hobbies: Grooming, hair care
Type of Face: oval
Height/Weight: Your height is 5 feet, 2 inches, and you weigh 110.0 lbs.

Mental Characteristics
Education: The White Tower
Fears: Traitors
Self-perception: The quintessential Yellow Ajah. Compassionate. Understanding.
Assumed external perception: Vain, flamboyant, tempermental.
Self-Confidence: High.
Rational Or Emotional: Emotional
How could you upset this character? Name dropping, be a sycophant, stupidity, being a darkfriend, cowardice, disrespect.

Emotional Characteristics
What are emotional strengths of the character?
Understands people very well.

What are emotional weaknesses of the character? traitors and darkfriends

Is the character an introvert or an extrovert?
Undefined.

How does the character cope with fury and rage?
With calmness
… with unhappiness?
With compassion
… with rivalry?
With amusement
… with new situations?
With curiosity and suspicion
… with trouble?
With serenity

What’s his or her meaning of life?
To Heal

What would the character like to change in his/her life?
To have all darkfriends eliminated and burn the Shadow to dust and to have all suffering and illness rubbed from the world.

What things motivate the character?
Healing

What situations scares the character?
Treachery and being trappped

What makes this character happy?
The happiness and wellbeing of others!

Is the character often biased?
Of course not, never.

Does the character prefer to give or to take?
Give

Is the character rather nice or rude?
Always very nice and never sarcastic at all.

I've forgotten so much over the years. What better way to erase in Jenda's mind what I've forgotten oocly than some good old fashioned amnesia.

One week ago.

Jenda rose from her bed fighting away the dark emptiness. She removed her dress, finely tailored in Saldaean fashion, dark amber with gold details, and covering her from neck to toe, vaguely noting how well it fit - Definitely hers. She stood before her full length mirror to examine her natural form. A trim, if petite figure, tilted eyes, so dark they were nearly black and long straight black hair, loose and parted in the middle hung to her waist. Elongated red and white burn scars marred her right forearm and stomach. Another scar, thin, pale and bitterly twisted wrapped around her neck. A dark, wagon wheel shaped disfiguration, like a black lightning strike was on her thigh. And no recollection of anything except... at one point in the past that she thought she could Heal anything. Even scars.

She was a Healer.

A Yellow Ajah Aes Sedai. Jenda grimly tightened her mouth in realization. Awareness suddenly flooded her mind. If she could remember nothing else, she knew this much. The Three Oaths were seared into her very bones. And if she could remember no one else, she knew herself. She was Aes Sedai.


Age: 2 months

A dark clad man entered the farmhouse and gestured curtly at the door. He was handsome Saldaean gentleman, of middle years shown by the first frosting of grey at his temples. The old farmer and his wife tensed in startelement as the door slammed shut with a bang. Their mystified stares darted from the bundled, sleeping babe cradled in the man's arms to his fierce, wild tilted eyes. He needed to remind these two stubborn peasants who they were dealing with. *Who can burn this farm to ashes with a single thought and who will one day be a favored of the Dark Lord?** He allowed the silence to linger as the hearth crackled and he furrowed his brow, letting his own thoughts wash over him. The old farmer was in the man's debt and would be compelled by threat of ruin to raise his daughter as their own as he watched from afar, never speaking a word of his existence. He'd ensure the farm was successful and his girl lacked for nothing. After he murdered her very fine person, gender being but a construct of society traitor of a mother, he had no time to groom the child and only could hope she could touch Saidar. When that time came, he knew the perfect Aes Sedai to mentor her. But those were plans for later.

He took a seat. "We have much to discuss, Sharaad. Much indeed."

-----

He kept an eye on her from a distance over the years, watching her grow from a swaddled babe to a child to a young girl, until she disappeared into the White Tower. Unseen but paying expenses, he kept the farm afloat to ensure the girl was relatively comfortable and had nice things like those dresses the young girls in Maradon liked so much, and that no one so much as laid a hand on her to correct her increasingly wild and rebellious behavior. The farm was more successful than it should have had any right to be and Jenda, though a 'farm girl' never wanted for anything until the moment she climbed onto that cart with the Aes Sedai. As he watched her amble off towards Tar Valon, he noticed her gaze and gave an elegant bow.

------

Age: 12 winters.

Growing up on the farm made for an idyllic childhood. The farm hands that were like brothers to Jenda found her sweet and kind, even though to the last they'd agree she had a volatile temper and her increasingly precocious flirting made her at times seem vain and arrogant. Especially the way she'd comb her fingers through her straight black hair, which she wore waist length and parted in the middle, and the lift to her pointed chin and hawkish nose. Jenda had a smirk to her mouth and a mischievous glint to her tilted black eyes. Even then she carried herself much taller than the slight five two figure she'd have her whole life.

She flouted the rules at every chance and was obviously never punished. The Sharaad's would nervously glance to one another and quietly turn away from disciplining the girl. But she loved her parents, and knew that disappointed look. She would never defy them in any malicious way. Jenda carried out her chores dutifully, knowing that if she shirked, she would face no repercussions. But she wanted to help and be a part of the operation.

-----

Jenda stood up on her short, galloping Saldaean gelding, that she named Starling, a small dark thing just like her. She wobbled a bit, finding her balance, as her skinny dark arms stretched akimbo, her lady's dagger bouncing at her hip. Standing full on with bent knees, one bare foot on Starling's neck and another planted in the saddle. He was going much too fast but she loved it. The wind streaming through her waist length black hair and the shocked shouts coming from the farmhands thrilled her. Jenda saw her mark and waited, crouching until just at the last moment dropping into the saddle as Starling lowered his neck and jumped at speed over the fence, recklessly sending the hands leaping out of the way.

Her laughter was stolen as she turned to look back with a grin to see the distracted farmhand staggering and holding a handful of his own guts slumped to the ground. Distracted by her antics, the farmhand came around the wrong side of the bull he was handling. The spooked bull bucked and swung his horns, goring the poor lad right in the stomach. The bull snorted, kicking up dust as he trotted away.

Jenda pulled back hard on the reins and spun Starling to gallop back to the boy before he bled out and tumbled from the saddle towards the lad. She leaned forward horrified, gathering up his guts in her hands and pressed them back inside the ragged tear in his middle. The boy gasped, shuddered, and lost consciousness. Before her eyes, the flesh knitted closed while she held her hands against the convulsing farmhand.

The boy settled against the blood drenched dirt where he lay as Jenda crawled backwards, dripping red to her elbows and she stared. Her mother, Myriam, approached, fear in her eyes. The other farm hands took the boy away somewhere, Jenda did not know where. But he was breathing and the bleeding stopped. The old woman gathered Jenda to walk her to the house. She said gently, with sadness touching the voice that was always so strong, "Jenda.. we must talk."

The girl's heart sank. She had nearly killed a farmhand who was like a brother to her. Borderlanders were not ignorant of the One Power's existence and Jenda knew what she had done. She channeled and now feared she had to be sent away to the White Tower where the Aes Sedai lived.

---------

It had been three months since Myriam sent to the White Tower, as directed those twelve winters ago. Now summer, a wagon with a woman clad in yellow, An Aes Sedai, stirred a trail of dust as her Gaidin ambled behind on his warhorse. The elderly woman felt the knot of anxiety in her middle as she wiped her hands on her apron and trotted out to greet her guests. She knew that today would be one of the last days she would see her beloved foster daughter.

--------

Looking back over the barrels of ice peppers and crates of fur at her farm fading into the distance, Jenda bumped along in the wooden cart next to the Aes Sedai as her Warder kept pace on his destrier. Kaishia Sedai was her name, and a strange name it was, but the woman was so kind and compassionate. They were headed to Tar Valon. Far far away like the stories. The Saldaean girl rested her chin on her arm as she gazed back wistfully at the only place she's ever been. A black clad figure of a man, not there a moment ago, loomed tall next to her mother on the front porch. As she straightened, narrowing her tilted black eyes, he gave an elegant bow. Jenda could swear she saw him smirk, before disappearing into the home she was leaving.

Three weeks ago

Jenda idly turned her Great Serpent ring on her finger while intently studying her reports and a book on Rhiudin. She flipped back and forth, shuffling papers, taking notes, and back to scrutinizing her book again. This seemed too outlandish to exist. But could it? The Age of Legends has many undiscovered wonders. However, an Angreal that could Heal? Or at least emulate the weave. This was extraordinary.

After days spent gathering evidence and stories, rumors, myths and probably a few lies, Jenda thought she had it. She grinned and gave a wink to her Warder, who spent his time whittling some little project or another. Jenda gathered her papers and stowed them in the desktop lockbox. "We are going to the Aiel Waste, Gaidin. "


To be continued...