Profile Introductions (New)

[DariusStormborn]

New Character

Avatar: DariusStormborn

Name: Darius Cauthon

Race: Emond's Field

Nickname: Trouble, or Dar
Age: 19

Priorities: 1/3/6 (One Power, Weaponmaster, rare artifact)

Weapon(s): Darius learned much from his brother. Secreted about his person are more blades than two Gleeman thought possible. Carried as a walking staff, a few inches longer than he is tall, his gift from his brother's best friend. A long case carried on his back or on his horse, holds that which is laughed at until it's effects are seen. A Two Rivers longbow. A quiver of arrows rests on his hip, when hunting, by his left knee for easy draw when riding.

Description: Darius shares many characteristics with his brother, with his apprenticeship with Master Luhan, though, his body was a rather sharp contrast. Holding every bit of Mat's quickness, Darius has also been blessed with a physique that was a hardfought attainment. Wide shoulders, muscled as a blacksmith should, many braided girls he'd tumbled long before he was deemed 'old enough'. Long chocolate brown hair, tied back at the nape of his neck with a black leather thong, hangs between his shoulder blades, and are a sharp contrast to the liquid blue eyes that seem to engulf all they see. The behest of his new profession saw that he wore nothing but black. Ever-present in his hands, typically, apparently lazily, used as a leaning post, was his quarterstaff. A black so deep, it seemed to pull light from around it, the staff was capped by silver etched with odd markings from the Age of Legends. Completely smooth, as fragile as a Power-wrought blade, it was somehow impossible to lose one's grip. One collar holds the sword of one of the Dedicated, the other conspicuously barren of the golden Dragon.

History: Darius was Mat Cauthon's youngest brother, raised in the Two Rivers, he was one of the crucial townsmen that saw to the defeat of the Trollocs under Lord Perrin when he had come to aid them. Not struck with the same wanderlust as Matrim, Darius' life was, nevertheless, altered by Rand, Mat and Perrin's departure. The youngest son, Darius held no illusions as to whose hands the Cauthon farm would fall into. With Perrin conspicuously absent, Darius took up apprenticeship with the aging blacksmith. An exceptionally quick study, within a matter of months, he was taking over special projects from Master Luhan. His life was headed in a good direction. He had a highly decent, necessary, skill. His physique was admired and fawned over by the village girls, of whom he could have his pick, and, like his brother, often did. Nothing serious, but he had most definitely stolen a kiss or two.

The worst moment of his young life had been when it ended. Or at least, so it seemed to young Darius, at the time. Odd things happened around 'Trouble' as Master Luhan called him. The name had been so apt, it had seen more use than his given name. The legendary Cauthon luck was with him, but to the nth degree more. Miracles almost became commonplace around the handsome apprentice. As he grew older, a chronic problem with headaches began occurring at an alarmingly increasing rate. Not mild aches, horrible, debilitating, torturous agony. At times, the headaches would put him in bed for days at a time.

The Wise One was dumbfounded, she could neither stop, nor keep the headaches from happening. At a loss, Abel Cauthon began trying to find further and further sources for possible medical treatment of his young son. The source of Darius' recovery was from a most unexpected place. Rand had sent a messenger, dressed in black, to the town council. Trouble, living up to his name, had tried to sneak to the second story window to be the first with whatever news the man carried. He had known. Not in the 'Hey, I saw movement' sort of way. He just, suddenly turned, quick as a striking snake, and looked directly at Darius. He was so shocked by his being discovered, and so quickly, he made the often fatal mistake, he hesitated. He was pulled, bodily, in through the window, a whisper of steel clearing a scabbard met his frightened ears.

"He is but a curious boy from Emond's Field. He is neither traitor, nor spy."

"He can Channel.", was the man's only reply.

Needless to say, Abel sent his son to the Black Tower to train, to learn enough not to die. An excellent study, Darius was a Soldier and became a Dedicated in a matter of a few months. The only thing he seemed to be lacking in was his utter lack of ability with a sword. A blademaster he would never be. However, give the boy a quarterstaff and there was noone there who could defeat him. This included Rand. After defeating every Asha'Man placed against him in hand-to-hand, he had had the title of Staffmaster bestowed upon him. After the departure of his Battle Leader, there were few that Rand trusted implicitly, Darius was one such. He was not only Mat's brother, he was a fellow townsman of Two Rivers.

Rand had taken him aside when he had been deemed ready to be tested for his Dragon.

"Troub- I'm sorry. Darius. Old habits die hard. I know that you have learned with incredible swiftness, but I have to be certain that you are truly ready for the title of Asha'Man. Yurin, as you know, has gone to aid in the coalition of the White and Black Towers. He has told me of a most disturbing plot by Shai- I'm sorry," he said, seeing the boy's cringe,"by the Dark One and, at least, one Forsaken. He needs assistance in locating that Forsaken. I realize this is a dangerous mission, but I have to learn your, forgive the pun, 'Dedication'. You are, by no means, to try and attack the Forsaken yourself, find Yurin, you two should be enough to take him down."

The sincerity in the Dragon's eyes was filled with an ineffable sadness as he sent one of his own townsmen, his best friend's brother, and the only remaining trusted individual he knew in the Black Tower, to the unknown dangers of the White. "Duty..", he said, trailing off.

I have something to offer you before you go, Dar. Rand seemed to open a hole in the fabric of reality, Darius quickly studied the weave, he thought he could see how it was done. It was similar to Gateways and Skimming, the differences were significant, though. A beautiful, onyx-black staff made it's way to him. Feeling it's weight, giving it several practice swings a mischevious grin that would've left his father trembling and ready to punish, spread across his face.His father was almost psychic in discovering Dar doing something wrong.

"This is an angreal It is not as powerful as a sa'angreal, but is strong in its own right. Your brother carries a weapon very similar, coupled with your strength in saidin and your incredible aptitude for learning, you should be protected should you be discovered. Go to Tar Valon, find my t'sorovar'm'hael, speak of your mission to the Amyrlin and Yurin, and noone else.

Thus his story truly began.

((IF, for whatever reason, this is unacceptable, please let me know.))