Hama Sureadin

From Grey Tower Library
Jump to: navigation, search
Hama Sureadin
ha-MAH soo-REY-a-din
Created by Rolnar
Information
Gender Male
Occupation Drin
Affiliation The Grey Tower
Nationality Sharan

Hama Sureadin is a Sharan Drin of the Grey Tower.

Description

Hama is a young man, shorter than most grown men, perhaps five feet and ten inches, if he stretches upward a little. Alright, more than a little. Not that he really minds being so short. He still manages to loom over his brothers Sorda and Aldazar, for now. It's something that he's learned to turn into something of an advantage during his years in the Warder Yards.

Like all of the Ayyad boys that were rescued by Rolnar and Kismet, in truth, like all Ayyad males, Hama's face is marked with several tattoos that stand out against the dark shade of his skin. He has often thought himself somewhat ugly because of them, however he is far from unattractive. His years training have given him a healthy skintone and physique, and he has slowly become a very open, friendly person, despite his initial awkwardness and shyness.

To Hama, the most important thing in life is his family. He treasures his adoptive brothers, and their father, thanks to the great trauma that they underwent together almost a decade ago. So far, he has yet to really find any woman who catches his eye, though there has ever been a soft spot in his heart for Issyra, the woman who so cunningly tricked him and sent him head over heels with lust one day long ago.

Biography

Nothing but shadow. Nothing but pain. There were glimpses of light, moments of levity. Children, even those caged in darkness for so much of their life, could find things to laugh about. But the joy was all too fleeting, and the pain all too frequent.

Hama smiled as he placed his training blade against the wall of his room. It had been another long day, but fairly enjoyable this time. He had been sparring with some of the taller boys again, and he took a certain delight in seeing their expressions of surprise when he moved in under their reach and struck up. It never failed to amuse those watching, and despite his generally good nature, Hama loved to watch them fall down.

Then they came. They were different. They were like the ones who held these children. But they cared. And they came, with words of promise and freedom. And the children followed.

The Drin'far'ji sat down on the side of the bed, and stretched out his back. With the sunlight streaming in with rays of faded amber, that warm shade of sunset, Hama dragged his hands through his shoulder-length mass of hair. It was his one vanity, really, and Carn often joked to him about how perhaps he didn't think he was so ugly as he said he did. It always made Hama flush a little, but he had never really liked his own looks. Still, since Issyra had half-terrified, half-elated him all those years ago, he had begun to, albeit slowly, gain confidence in his own looks. He wouldn't dare approach a girl, of course, but he could speak with them.

They opened a gateway. They guided the children through, to another sort of world. One with forests and creatures, with light and water and sound and joy. But she was not there. He was crying. Why was he crying, and why wasn't she there? Where was the Tower?

Straightening up his shirt and coat, Hama opened the door of his meagre room and walked down the halls. Tonight was set aside for a family dinner, and he couldn't wait to talk with his brothers and his father again. A small smile on his tattooed face, Hama walked down the corridor, towards his family.

There was the Tower. There was a lady made of silver. There was a home.

Career History

  • Drin