Preferred Weapon:

Axe

Description:

Jenin stands at a height of 5ft 9” which is just above average at the Grey Tower. He possesses light brown hair which falls just to his shoulders and is often kept in a small warrior’s tail at the back of his neck. He most distinguishing features are his sparkling green eyes and his smile – which comes easily to his lips. He is athletic of build but not over-muscled and he moves with the self-assured grace that all Gaidin learn to find over the course their training regime. His hands are delicate yet strong, possessing of rough, calloused palms to evidence the use of many weapons.

He is quick to joy and slow to anger, but once angered he remains quite intractable for some time. He harbors no grudges, instead choosing to avoid those who have attempted him wrong on a large scale. This does not make him a coward, however, merely selective on what is worth fighting over. He loves to drink, dance and enjoy himself – sometimes too much for his own good. But he often considers the rewards worth any punishment given to him.

Occasionally inclined to be a romantic, he likes to think himself a realist

Jenin has few memories of his childhood left to him in the present that are pleasant, and many that are decidedly not. His departure from Far Madding was of little consequence and he did not look back. Neither was he missed by many. His parents are still alive as far as he knows currently, though he has remains estranged from them since his flight at the age of 17. Now, approaching his 29^th year this means he has had no contact with anything in his previous life for nigh on 12 years.

His childhood was not an unhappy one, spent under the loving care if his mother and the iron will of his father, and was rather privileged if anything. Born in a trade-city he was the son of a well-off merchant with aspirations for greater things and a higher status. He was tutored well in the arts of reading, writing and numbers from an early age as well as the ways of business and salesmanship. He was groomed to be his father’s partner and his eventual successor – the one whom would raise the Delarim name to greatness as his father saw it.

But he found numbers boring, the arts of business tedious and would rather spend time with pretty girls than crusty old men negotiating the price of iron or some similar item of trade. Wealth was not appealing to Jenin, his interests lie in the stories he had read. Tales of heroism and bravery, the defeat of False Dragons and the pushing back of Trolloc hordes was what filled his brain and fired his imagination.

When he informed his father whilst merry, quite foolishly, of his disinterest in his trade and the desire to become a warrior Gaidin he was soundly thrashed and thrown into his rooms, the doors locked. He received no food for several days as punishment and was kept confined to his room. He still has a few scars from the beating upon his shoulders and back – small, jagged lines of semi-healed tissue where the hits had been especially forceful. And so his life continued in that manner for some months, with his father trying to evoke interest, and punishing Jenin when he could not. It was a tedious monotony, a spiral of hatred, frustration and sadness flashed with occasional pain. Even his mother became cold towards her own son after a while.

And so he left when he came of age, taking nothing with him that he had not earned or made himself, and set off for the closest Tower to his location. It was a newer Tower, Grey I color rather than White or Black. He fancied that it reflected in some sardonic way his own life situation.

He arrived on his 18^th year after working his way across the lands and enjoying his newfound freedom immensely. But when he enrolled it was far from fun. He was driven hard and his training lasted man years. Eventually, though, he attained what he had wanted most – he was a Gaidin at the age of 27 and the celebration was one he decidedly does not remember anymore.

The last two years he has spent teaching the younger Trainees and honing his own talents. He has no Ward, which grates against him as he currently has no real purpose (as he sees it). He has attempted to court some Aes Sedai but has been passed up in favor of others. When not training or practicing he is oft found in the Band of Brothers or sometimes, on rare occasion, simply sitting under the stars in the Training Yard, enjoying the solitude and reflecting upon what has been.