|Affiliation||The Grey Tower|
Athilin is a medium height, lithe build female with brown eyes the colour of warm chocolate. Softly arched eyebrows, and a slightly pouty mouth are usually kept in a serious expression. The rare times she smiles relaxes her resting bitch face completely, with soft dimples in her cheeks. She fidgets with the handkerchief she had been given back, and it's getting worn from her fidgeting, but she won't stop and will not replace it. She enjoys wearing leathers, and keeps her soldier's weapons sharpened and well oiled as needed because that's what he would have wanted. She tries to find herself alone as often as possible. It was always best that way, but she is polite to everyone she meets, giving them small smiles, before returning to her serious face. Athilin has a desire to be helpful, and always offers to assist with anything she feels she's capable of handling.
Growing up as the daughter of the local proprietor of the White Tower Inn in Ravinda, she was set up to take over the business after her father and mother would pass on. She learned how to run the business, deal with rabble rousers, and politely but firmly escort people out when needed. Even growing up she was a serious but fair person.
There was only one enjoyment she had that had her possibly out of her personality, and that was following the soldiers on their routines out on the Plains of Lances. It was always so fascinating to her. She met with the soldiers there a few times, talking to them and learning more about what they were doing. It didn't make her a master tactician by any stretch of the imagination, but she did start to enjoy games of strategy, learning about as many as she could.
There was a young soldier who would always stay at the inn when the armies were in the area. He enjoyed spending time at the bar while she worked, even going so far as to get into a fight with a few local patrons who got mouthy with her. They were well on their way to being properly wedded when his battalion were called to venture into the blight. The night before he left, she gave him her love and appreciation, giving him a specially embroidered handkerchief for good luck while he was gone.
But it wasn't enough, and her handkerchief was returned to her, along with his gear per his request by one of the few surviving members. She was despondent with that information. Athilin started to spend more time out on the Plains of Lances, just sitting there, watching the dust roll across the hard packed earth. She was laying out on the Plains, holding the handkerchief, and crying softly to herself, when the earth started to rumble. She gripped her handkerchief close to herself, her emotions, usually under such careful and solid wraps, running completely rampant.
She cracked the earth, sending a small fissure along the edges of the plains. She started to practice on her own with his short bow, and his swords. But without someone teaching her, she looked foolish and couldn't really get a good handle on it all. And any time she mentioned it to her parents, they would just turn her attention back to running the Inn. But it didn't hold the same sway for her anymore, and it felt almost hollow in comparison to the brightness he had brought to her life. She knew his face, knew his voice... but his name was eluding her.
Her ability to channel would only reveal itself when she was sad to the point of tears over him. It got worse and better by uneven waves. She nearly caught her family inn on fire with one of her depressive episodes, and she packed her things. It was time to go before things went worse for her family. She knew what she was, but she didn't know how to fix herself.... So she had to go where she would be able to learn it all.
As she travelled, she tried to help who ever she could. She stayed a few weeks at an Inn that was struggling, trained people and got them settled to make money. She helped a farm for a week, just repairing clothing and what equipment she could. The farmer had recently lost his wife, and she taught a few of the others to cook so that they wouldn't lack for tasteful meals.
When she arrived to the Grey Tower, she was 24, after leaving her home at 22. It wasn't that she was slow arriving, she just wanted to help anyone she could, and that took time. Plus she didn't have a horse, so it was all on foot except for when she could get rides with people on their carts.
- Novice (10 November 2019)