Name: Rownan Abeyta
Age: 21
Nationality: Raised in Far Madding, actual origins unknown.
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 127
Hair color/length: Black
Eye color: Black
A quick overview of personality: suspicious, charismatic, patient, proud


Overall Strength: Weak
Air: Weak
Water: Weak
Earth: Moderate
Fire: Weak
Spirit: Moderate

Talents: None. He has learned some tricks: throwing and disguising his voice, but no talent as listed.

**this is where he starts out. I will edit as he gets raised


Rownan Abeyta was abandoned at birth by his biological mother. He survived infancy only because a street waif, a girl of twelve, adopted him. She raised him under a broken bridge, right next to the murky water, the home of rats and sickness. Somehow, she managed to steal enough milk and bread to sustain him, and herself. Unfortunately the girl had no capacity to learn, her mind had been dull since birth. Her only emotion was affection and blind trust. She saw Rowan as a doll or plaything, and she lavished all the affection of her broken mind upon him. He grew, stunted and half starved, barely able to speak, his edcuacation was so lacking. By five he was more clever then his foster mother and began to support them both. Their roles gradually reversed as he took on more and more of the responsibility to care for them both. He became her sunlight and her beating heart was in his hands. As for him, she was the only mother he had ever known and he was determined to care for her. His hands were quick and he learned that gold was more valuable then the bread off a cart or a cup of milk stolen from a buttery. The filthy streets were his entire education. His vocabulary was full of rude words and little else. His mind was filled with anger and the desire to eat. Still, every night he returned to the little bridge he called home. A home he shared with a deranged girl and the rats she had tamed.

Then, a few weeks shy of his twelfth birthday, Rownan made his first mistake. On a hot, bitter day when the very stones beneath his feet seemed like furnaces he tried to steal from the person of importance, a Lady Cumere. She had been examining the work of several artisans who were indebted to her. Rownan snuck up behind her, reaching a hand for her fat purse. A stone caught his foot and he fell into her before he could make a good escape. In less then an instant he was held fast by her escort, who had not even noticed him.

"Let me go!" He shrieked as he fought his captors like the little hellion he was. He cursed them up and down, enough to make even the guards blush with shame. "Do you want us to take him down to the magistrate?" One of the escorts said as he struggled to keep a hold of Rownan's skinny arms. The Lady Cumere stroked the purse she had retrieved from Rownan. Through the dirt and emaciated frame and the rags she could see his gentle features, a pleasing visage. Luckily enough for Rownan, she had taste for young boys and instead of giving him to the authorities, she took him home.

For the next two years he honestly and truly became a pet. Only this time his mistress wasn't devoted and good. She was a coldly calculating, wealthy woman of influence. After Rownan was washed and fed, given a name, given an education in speaking and standing even the basics of self-defense, he was initiated into her particular wishes. At first that did not matter to Rownan. He liked Lord Cumere and his quiet ways and the gardens and the food, though he often missed his mother. Though he longed to see her, the Lady Cumere kept him at her side most of the day. Relenquishing him only for his studies, and not always then. She picked out his clothes and put jewels in his hair, and showed him off to all her friends who were delighted to praise him. As for the rest of it . . . Rownan bore with it. It made the servants whisper and some of the men shake their heads but nothing was ever said, at least directly to him. Besides, it rarely hurt. Rownan had a curious and inquiring mind. He wanted to know. All it took was listening underneath a window as Lady Cumere and her maids laughed about it to finally understand all the implications.

It was a while before he could really decide what to do with the information. What he wanted. One night, he lay on Lady Cumere's enormous bed and stared at the moulded ceiling where shadows were dancing. He was warm and comfortable, but he missed his mother. He decided that he wanted to go home. He raised himself up and looked at the lady who was sitting at her mirror, clad in only a silk dressing gown. She was humming her favorite tune, and arranging her long hair.

"Let me go." He said.

Startled, she turned around to him. "Where would you like to go, my lovely?"

Rownan stared at her with his enormous eyes and repeated himself. "Let me go."

Afraid of his look, she brushed aside his request. "Tush, my boy. You are better off here with me. Don't you like it, lovely?" She stood and came to him. "Too bad you will have to grow up in a few years. I think I will keep you though," she smiled wickedly, "for sentimental reasons. You will like that won't you? No need to ever go back and see that wretched, stupid woman you call your mother. Just think of me as your mother dear. I will keep you always. Come now don't sulk. I will buy you a new earring in the morning."

Rowan knew without a doubt that she meant what she said. Suddenly, he hated her. He felt as though her every touch, no matter how soft, infected him. Every time she looked at him he wanted to empty his stomach. Every word she murmered filled him with rage. He knew that he had to get away. Whatever the price he had to leave forever. But with one call she could have the entire house at her side. So, swallowing his pride and his bile he allowed her to exhaust herself against him. Then, while she slept in beautific repose, he suffocated her with her own silk pillow.

He left the house before anyone noticed. Using the old memories, he found his way back to his little bridge, trying to find his mother. In his heart he had already known that she could not last long without him. Her condition would only have worstened with time. At the rate she had been declining she would not have lasted. She hadn't. She was less then a putrid mass when he saw her, maggots devoured what her pet rats had left behind. He was only two weeks too late. If he had left right after he had found out, he might've been able to save her. In all likely hood she had not understood why he had gone, or even how to look for him. All she would have known was that he, her precious baby, had abandoned her. She would have suffered and starved. Because she was his mother, Rownan buried her corpse in the stiff, rocky earth under the broken bridge. He spoke no words or shed tears, for if they had ever been in him, they were gone now. He left Far Madding that night, even as the alarm was being raised.

At first his direction was entirely aimless. The world belonged to him in a way that anyone who had grown up in a home with a family could ever understand or accept. There was no place where he could not go and be comfortable, there were no conditions to which he could not adapt. Nothing was too hard or too far away. There was no duty, oath or allegiance that bound him to anything to any country or clan. His only allegiance was to his own survival. He used his small body and quick wits to steal from wealthy homes and even well guarded merchant trains. No one noticed him at all, he was so easily forgettable. He was no more then a shadow beside a horse, a tiny raven perched among the wagons. Less then worthless. Nothing about him drew attention. Rownan began to wonder if he were one of the shadowsouled, for the eyes of everyone slid past him without recognition. Not even for a moment did Rownan consider that it was his own withdrawal that made people, unable to see him clearly, or remember him. So Rownan simply gazed at the world, gazed with his hungry black eyes, colorless orbs that had never completely given up the sheen of desperation that only those who have truly starved can know. He did not give a flick for what was going on around him. The uncertainty, or the restless thrust of polotics. Nothing mattered to him except filling his own belly. Still, it was a cold life and one that he did note care for.

He was led to the Tower by the bridges and the water. They reminded him of better and happier times, of his old home that he could never return to. He was very nearly content with his new hovel that he had dug for himself underneath one of the smallest stone bridges in the City. Though he could have afforded more with his ill gotten gains, it was all he wanted. He sold the little pony he had acquired and furnished his hovel with warm blankets and everything else he thought a necessity. It was his intention to let that be his home till the end of his days. Once ensconced in the city, it was probably through sheer chance more then anything else that led him into the Tower itself. While he was working one day, he noticed a contingent of guards marching through the city. Rownan enjoyed physical exertion and him learning how to kill was a bird learning how to fly. He submitted himself to their ranks. Though he was limited by his small stature and wire thin body, he persevered. It was almost by accident, too that he found the Shadow, sometime after his initiation to the Tower. It promised power and wealth, and endless comfort forever. These things mattered little to Rownan and he might not have succumbed at all had not a thought of one Lady Cumere come to him. At that moment all he wanted was hurt people in power, women in particular, as he had been hurt. He despised women, especially the ones that wore silk. This would be the perfect chance to rid the world of them. Other then that, he did not care. About politics, other people or anything. Anything to bring them down. Even his soul.

And it was his soul that they asked for. Rownan understood that there were factions in the Tower, ones that would hunt him down for what he had now become. But he didn't care, he was not afraid of them. He did not make any stupid mistakes, like ripping mice apart. Nor did he show a great interest in murder or bloodletting. It was not easy, but by keeping his head down and his reputation pristine he managed to slip through. Nothing about that was any different then he had done before.

Inside the Tower, it was not all keeping to himself. Rownan was required to adapt. Cold days and sleepless nights he could handle. The endless noise, the never ending questions, the constant voices were like filed in his mind. As per his orders he had to become used to these surroundings. He could not carry out the will of the Shadow without mingling among his inmates, without absorbing their ways. Rownan tried his best, but he was never described as less then quiet, or more then elusive. Rownan woke with the sun, he was never late by so much as a minute to any appointment. Most of his instructors took his often down cast eyes and few words for respect. Some of the others looked at him askance for his silent ways and Rownan was grateful for that most days they left him to his own devices. He would seek for himself a place of solitude. Sometimes here would go to the highest places in the tower and hang out on the gutters and troughs, just listening to the wind or to the voices through the windows. Other times he would find a dark, enclosed nook and hide himself there, allowing his minds eye to carry him back home to the bridges.

He always returned to the world of the Tower reluctantly, but more ready to deal with the noise and the jostling. A few weeks into his training he was confronted with another deviation to his ordered life. Through an odd test that had been administered at random by an Asha'man, it was discovered that Rownan could Channel. "Well, boy," The odd man said his voice like gravel. "Seems there might be a little more to you then meets they eye." He said this dubiously, looking up and down Rownan's tiny frame which was now hardened by muscle. Rownan said nothing.

Without delay, he was swept from his old barracks and into a new, this one housing all the potentials of the Black Tower. There were others in the rooms, but at least it was not one long hall. Breathing a sigh of relief Darien tried to settle into his new life. It was a new set of rules and another set of faces and questions, but he managed. Rownan was a creature of instinct. An instinct born in the streets, cultivated by his life with a Lady, sharpened by his exploits across the Continent, and now harvested here. In this place, there were even sharper eyes, watching for the Shadows. Sometimes, Rownan was baffled by it. The Shadow belonged to people like himself. If the Light was not strong enough then it should have be destroyed. Why was that so hard for them to understand? Rownan had accepted it long ago.

After his first experiment with the One Power, Rownan thought the upheaval worth it. For the heat and fire of Sadin was new and wondrous to him, it filled him, as nothing else had before. So he threw himself into this new existence, adapting as he had always done quickly and without any external changes. He was given new lessons and new instructors, Rownan absorbed all they had to teach, sucked them to the marrow. He observed closely and rarely needed to be shown things more then once. Sometimes he would go to sleep more weary then when he woke up and more then once he was drilled until the thought of embracing the Source was like torture. Also, he was frustrated at his lack of potential and discernible talents, some of the easiest things for his mentor were impossible for Rownan. Sometimes he wanted to lash out. But then he remembered that he was kept under close observation, and how one slip could trip him. So far, Rownan had nothing but what was inside his head to condemn him. It would be later when his training completed that he would be useful to the Shadow. When he would be forced to end his quiet compliance and act. But that was a long way away, and until then he could enjoy the endless food and the invigorating exercise.

When the time of year came, he observed a small ceremony for his lost mother. He now knew that rats were spies for the Shadow and that his half wit mother had loved them. So perhaps the Shadow had been looking after him even then. The thought gave Rownan a kind of satisfaction, and he committed her spirit to the Light. She, simpleton that she was, did not belong with the Dark. Not like him, not like anyone who was truly wise. Armed with his new power, he would go and find those that had destroyed both their lives. When the Shadow touched the world, it would destroy everyone equally, and not play favorites like the Light. Of that Rownan was certain, and it was for that he prayed.

I love that story, it's quite amazing. *applauds* However, it is too short, much as I like that, I can't approve it as it is. It has to be longer.

Other than that, I can't wait to see how he works out! :)

I agree wtih Sapphira - you still need to add more to your bio. still, it's a great story :)

I"m changing your Bio's title to the right form - did you read the stickied threads?
:)

I guss not. *wonders what a stickied thread is* I will do my best to make it longer. I will admit that bios are not my thing. *marches to the word prossesor and prepares to do battle*

:thump:

*stumbles back into the thread, bruised and bleeding*Done! 1023 words. Better? *nods hopefully then collapses* :blink:

stickied threads are threads that are on the top of a forum and have "pinned" writted before the thread's topic :)

Done . . I think. Thanks Lyla. :)

The basis is fine, but it needs to be longer before I approve it myself. I'm sorry. Take a look at some of the bio's with ~ in front of them for acceptable length.

*salutes* Yes Asha'man Rialt. I have lengthened it once again. Mother just said as 'long as possible'. This is about 1526 words. I looked at the other bios as you suggested. Some of their length was due to how short and choppy their paragraphs were. I tend to run things together. If I err tell me and I will space things out. Or add still more words. In any case I have to post my OP strengths, so I will go hence and look at the rules. *salutes again, turns on heel and scuttles off*

Ok, the reason its taken me so long to get back to you is that i was trying to make heads or tails of the story.

I understand your reasoning, and when I first read it, it seemed fine, but upon closer scrutinization some things don't add up. I can understand the child being raised on the street. What I don't find plausible is that you have a variable cripple and idiot taking care of him. You say later that she didn't last long without him, yet how was she able to care for him untl he was old enough to do it for her? It seems she and the child surely would have perished before then.

Its fine that he was taken by the Lady Cumere, it probably happens all the time really. It gets a bit hazy though, when he says he randomly decides to kill her. I understand that he hates her for taking him away from the girl he lived with on the street, but why would he wait 2 years to kill her? it seems to me that his hatred would have faded a bit, or even if it hadn't, what kept him from trying to run away within the first few days to go get back to the little girl he loved so much?

Moving on with your story as the basis, he finds her dead under this bridge....ok, thats fine and believable I suppose. And with nothing else to do he moves on with this hatred for women like Cumere, thats fine as well. Completley understandable. "There was no duty, oath or allegiance that bound him to anything. Except of coarse his allegiance to his own survival." That statement is a contradiction the way I read it though. You say he has no alliegance, except he joins the shadow which requires absolute alliegance. And HOW does he join the shadow? Who does he meet, or does he pledge himself silently, with no allies? It seems foolish and for someone as headstrong as you describe him, it seems that he would recognize the folly of doing so while you were alone and with no guidance, especially in the tower. In the tower, there is a faction that specifically searches for members of the shadow, everyone is on their guard and with his past, you would have been quit closely monitored and probably discovered. There needs to be more here, so that it adds up.

He does need to be shown things more than once too, everyone does, even rialt. He is not perfect and it requires emmense amount of dedication to learn to use saidin, so that description is a bit off. Why would he commit the girls spirit to the light if he was a darkfriend? It doens't seem to work out....

Anyway, I know I ripped your bio apart, but there are some major falacies in it that need to be addressed. Please do not consider this an attack on you or your writting skills, my bio itself needed to be fixed many times before I submitted it. If you need help or need to ask questions, any of the administrators are willing to help!

*falls over dead*

Ok. I am going to fix it now. This is probably going to be the most in-depth character analysis I have ever undertaken for an RP site. Before I submit another draft, I would like to take the time to, erm . . .clear a few things up. Though after this bio I am begining to doubt my ability to explain anything.

1.) Yes, his mother did die after he left. But not right away. She did manage to survive on her own for a little while. Remember he had been gone for two years. Her body would have completely rotted away, if she had gone very soon thereafter of starvation and heartbreak.

2.) Yes it is something of a miracle that he survived in her care at all, for she was not very quick on the up take. He probably would have died early if the Lady had not taken him in.

3.) I intended for his reasons in killing the Lady to be hazy. It was an intentional gloss over. I was under the impression that this was a PG-13 site. I was leaving it to the readers to figure it out, that something reeked in his "relationship" with her.

4.)He was just a child when she took him. And the food was good. He had to grow up a little to realize that what she was doing was wrong. I admit that this was hazy. Again, I was assuming that this was understood.

5.) "There was no duty, oath or allegiance that bound him to anything. Except of coarse his allegiance to his own survival." He is saying that he is no ones servant, he has no nationality or home town family or gang. All he thinks about is himself. I guess I can understand where you are coming from. I will re-word.

6.) Yes. He is dedicated to the Shadow . . .but he believes in the Light. For himself, he does not care. The Shadow will give him his revenge and Rownan has no moral anchor to hold him to the Light. He thinks some people, like himself, are naturally a part of the Shadow and others are not so. That is why he can commit his mother to the Light. He believes in both, and has given his allegence to one. Men of the Light can believe in the Shadow, why not vice versa? However, I understand that this was not said right out.

7.) I do not care how closely he is monitored. Rownan says nothing and does little else. They cannot suspect him for doing nothing. You are right, he has NOT been initiated into the Tower's shadow. I was saving that for an actual rp. As I said, he does not do anything wrong (except of coarse spying, you will have to catch him on that) so even if he is monitored there is nothing they can say.

8.) I understand where you are coming from about the OP. Please keep in mind that he is very weak and his training at this point has barely begun. Rownan is a quick learner, how else could he have survived? No, he is not perfect. He does need to be instructed and he does make mistakes. But there is nothing else for him. His mind is not cluttered with any other desire. other then revenge of coarse.


Everything else you mentioned, I agree with. And I will fix it forthwith. I just thought before I did anything else I should make my reasoning clear.

I read all of your comments and many of them i agree with and understand, however, give me a little while for a proper response as I'm helping my mother clean....and she's a bitch when she cleans. :P So I'll be back on in a bit.

Not a problem, Asha'man Rialt. :lol: I know how that goes. My dad is EXACTLY the same way! I edited the bio a little. Correcting some of the minor things like his reasons for so suddenly killing that dreadful woman. Yeah.

:ph43r: :look :ph43r:

Ok, first of all, I understand what you have said. When I ask you of something on here, its because you have not made it clear enough. Which means that 1) while she didn't die right away, you need to make the perfectly clear by writting out a little bit that explains that.

2) Why didn't you mention IN the bio that he probably would have died if the Lady hadn't taken him in? MENTION IT

3) Don't be so mysterious that people don't understand you. I got that something fishy was up with that relationship, but you mentioned the whole event with the Lady in only a few sentances which makes me think, that because its so short, it wasn't a very important event in his life. Elaborate!! make sure that you leave enough odd events and happenings, or just statments that makes me know right away that somethign fishy is going on. Don't just say, something odd is going on, make me know it. never assume!

4) Again, mention the fact that the food was good. Mention the fact that it took him a while to realize what she was doing to him was wrong. "the food was good, etc, andeventually he began to suspect something..." you know?

5) Make sure when you reword that you are completely clear about what you mean, read over your bio to make sure that you haven't misconstrued what went on. MAKE IT CLEAR AND OBVIOUS. dont treat you audience like they are stupid, but give them the curtesy of telling them what is going on sometimes instead of making them infer or guess.

6) I agree with you 100% on this, now you can go ahead and make that known as well. State this in your bio!

7) Mention the fact that he knows there are factions in the tower that hunt down peopel for being shadow, but that he ignores them and goes on with his own life. Say that he just acts the way he has always acted and then it will make sense.

8) Wonderful, Im glad you understand where I'm coming from. In other words, don't say, he only needs to be shown things ONCE to learn them, say he learns fast and after a few mistakes he gets things down. Not always, but sometimes he does and there are of course some things that are extremely difficult for him. You did not mention any of that in your bio, you merely said, he learns things fast and doesnt have to be shown twice.


And aside from those things which I mentioned. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, elaborate on his character. Such a person driven by revenge and hate has so many interesting tales to tell!! describe how other people view him, how do they react to him joining the tower guard (which is what he joined I assume, you may want to solidify that and mention that he was a recruit and thats when an Asha'man found he had the ability to learn to use the Source). I want details coming out of my ass, i want clarification here. It seems like a listing of events so far, and not a real story. Write me a story here, not merely a listing of his life and what happened. Make it unique, make me WANT to read it!

I'm being hard on you here because this character MUST be understood. I want to be able to understand what this charcter is like upon reading your bio, not the comments under your bio. Pour yourself and your writting into this bio! Don't kill yourself over it, but please, I have taken over and hour to write you this, not to mention the other one,and I have thought on it, do the same for me. Spend some time on it, and we'll keep on hashing it out until its ready to be approved.

Rember though, don't give up!

P.S Breakingit up into more than just 3 massive paragraphs would be a very good thing, and it would help my horrid eyesight.

This might take awhile. Very well. Prepare to be dazzeled . . .I hope. As for chopping up the paragraphs into smaller pieces. *sheds bitter tears and takes out an axe*

Better? I have chopped it *washes blood off hands* and I have revamped it. Added more detail. I hope that was enough about his character and less like a list.

:blink: Is that the same bio by the same person? That was great! i definately can't way to see how Rownan turns out now. :) Approved, definately. :)

Very good! I am awed! :o

*sniffs* Thanks mother! Yeah, after y'all made me add close to 1200 words, chopped it up, added character detail, and finally corrected some of the convoluted sentences . . .it would BOUND to be a lot different! ;) Oh yeah. But I am glad y'all made me because it looks great.

Now all I need is my mentor's approval and I am set!

^^ *nods satisfied*


Approved.

My heart cannnot take the strain!
*falls over dead . . .again* :lol:

*heals*

I approve it too, even if you don't need me :P just wanted to tell you that. it was a good story, but now it's a great bio ^^

*wipes a tear away* Thanks. Just check out Asha'man Rialt's earlier posts. He is the one who deserves at least half the credit. :nods

I just realized, you didn't update this when you were raised to Dedicated. :blink: