Jain Marenellin

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Jain Marenellin
Jain Marenellin
Jayne Marn-ellen
Created by Toma
Portrayed by Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher series)
Information
Gender Male
Occupation Drin
Affiliation The Grey Tower
Nationality Shienaran
Attributes
Weapon Skills
  • Sword ✦✦✦

Jain Marenellin is a Shienaran Drin of the Grey Tower.

Description

  • Height: 6' 1"
  • Eye Colour: Dark green
  • Hair Colour: Black
  • Distinguishing Features: Extensive callouses and burn scars on his hands and he wears a hadori

Jain is broad shouldered and barrel chested. He has short hair that is as black as night in sharp contrast to his relatively light skin. He wears a hadori around his head, holding back the hair from covering his ears. His face seems hard with an angular nose and a slightly downturned mouth that makes him look perpetually bored or annoyed. His eyes are dark green gems that shine out from under thin eyebrows. He wears tight fitting breeches and a sleeveless leather vest. What you can see of his arms and chest look muscular and strong and his hands are very calloused and show signs of healed burns from hours working working in the forge. He is often seen training alone, be it exercising or with weapons against training dummies, and keeps strange hours, getting up early in the morning to train independently.

Biography

-CRACK- Jain's head rang again as the bundled reeds struck home in what must have been the tenth time that day. "Keep your guard up Jain! A trolloc's fart wouldn't be blocked by such a clumsy attempt! Again!" Jain set his feet again and squared of against his grandfather. With barely a warning, Michel struck out at him again... High, high, low, middle, thrust followed by another overhead strike that easily broke through Jain's block and hit him like a hammer blow. "Light Jain! You can see the strike coming and yet you still cannot block it! Halfman steel will not be so forgiving! Instead of a lump, you will be split from crown to nape and where will you be then? Set your feet and hold your sword at an angle like this so you don't block the blow but deflect it off to the side! Not even the Great Lan Mandragoran could block a Shadowspawn blow like that! You must deflect the blow to open their guard so you can strike home and dispatch the foul creature! Now do it again!"

Each day began and ended in the same way. In the morning before work they did exercises and at night after work ended, they would spar. Jain's grandfather Michel was from the doomed kingdom of Malkier and he was not going to let anyone forget it. His son died in a Trolloc raid almost a decade ago and his wife had died giving birth to Jain... It was a tragedy but also a way of life in the Borderlands. Michel began training Jain from a young age, as soon as he could understand how to hold a dagger. To Jain it was as large as a sword at that time and he still practiced with the smaller blade but ever since last summer, his weapon of choice had become the sword. Michel would not allow him to rely too heavily on steel however and had also trained him as much as he could in the art of the Aiel's barehanded fighting. Most of the other children thought it strange to learn, but if his grandfather thought it was worth it, by the Light it was worth it to Jain. He set his feet again and readied himself for the next exchange...


Michel sat heavily in his chair and leaned forward on the table towards Jain. "Jain, you are a fine swordsman now but still no where near the best. You can handle most exchanges but still have room for much improvement... Now you could go train with the City Guard..." Michel's mouth puckered with obvious disgust at the thought, "... or you could go train in Tar Valon and one day become a Gaidan. Your father, Light bless him, chose the path of the City Guard and for him, it was the correct choice. Could he still have been living if he went to train at Tar Valon? Maybe. But it is bad to speak ill of the dead and I shall not dishonor him with the thought. He was brave and died much before his time. You however... Jain you have great potential in you, if you could just find a Master of Weaponry that could draw it out of you..." Michel's eyes stared blankly for a moment before he came back and pierced Jain with a questioning stare.

"Grandfather, if you believe Tar Valon would have me to train as a Warder, that is where I shall go. To be the best, I must train with and against the best. I shall not dishonor you."

Michel's face broke into a rare smile, "Then I have a name for you Jain. Tomas Cambrim. He is a Warder to an Aes Sedai in Tar Valon and a friend of mine from when I first arrived here when Malkier fell to the Blight. Go to him and ask to be added to the rolls of the Trainees at the White Tower. May the Light bless and keep you Jain. I cannot make the trip with you and as you know we do not have much money to spare but I have made arrangements with a caravan to take you on as a guard. It is not the most glorious work and the going will be slow but you will learn much of the world beyond the walls and have some coin in your pocket when you reach the Tower. I have one final gift for you." Michel reached into his pocket and pulled out a length of braid leather cord and handed it to Jain. "If you are going to train at Tar Valon and bring honor to your name, you must be marked with this so all know you are a proud Malkieri son. Wear the hadori with pride my grandson and may peace ever favor your sword."


It had been a few weeks since Jain had left Fal Moran and he was grateful his grandfather had arranged this guard job for him. Just as expected, the job was not too difficult and Jain had picked up things on the trip that he had never experienced before. He had tried to keep to the schedule that he had followed at home with his grandfather but it had proven difficult. Doing exercises in the morning was fine, if he could find the time. The caravan master kept a tight schedule and in the beginning he barely had time to get out of his blankets, pack and eat before they would be moving. He always seemed to be hurrying and never seemed to be on time so he had taken to rising before the sun when they stayed in towns and always took the morning watch when they camped along the road. This way he could have the time to work out without interfering with the schedule the caravan master liked to keep.

His nightly ritual of sparring was a different story. The caravan employed mostly guards from the south lands and while most of the men seemed capable of handling the swords they wore, Jain found out quickly enough that they were more interested in drinking and sitting around playing stones than in sparring with him. Most of the men were older than him by years and somehow they all knew of his inexperience as a guard and didn't really have time for his questions. He was too proud to beg or complain and he figured they wouldn't respond anyway so when they stopped for the night, he decided to try doing Forms like he had seen his grandfather doing every morning. He didn't really know many and he was sure he wasn't doing them correctly but he figured at least he was doing something. This went on for about a week until the attack happened. It was getting on twilight and there didn't seem to be any sign except that the forest went quiet all of a sudden. The brigands came out of the trees and seemed to be trying to separate one of the wagons from the group and steal it. Jain leapt into the battle with sword and dagger slew five men defending the wagon taking his fair share of wounds before he felt a sharp pain in his head followed by blackness. When he awakened hours later, the captain of the guards was sitting next to him.

“Light Jain, you ar’ one crazy mon. Mos men woodn’a try to stand up t’ a bloody assault like that single handed and I swear on the Light ifin yu dn’t have the Dark One’s own luck, I’m a goatkissing farmhand. That blow yu took should’ave split you head wide open. I saw it and still dn’t believe it. I was bloody seconds too late to stop it. As it was, yu saved us the embarrassment o’ losing that wagon, and as close as we can tell, yu killed five men. But you sword handling...” the captain shook his head. “Yu had a good teacher but its clear yu never fought men before. I’ve heard rumors yu were looking to spar... These men woodn’a do yu any bloody good. They are too deep in their cups most times and woodn’a know what to do with a young sword like yu anyway... I’ll tell yu what. Yu heal up and I’ll be ya partner ev’ry night. Yu never’ll improve if yu don’t see variety in yu opponents.”

So from that night forward, Jain had a new opponent. The captain of the guard was much younger than his grandfather and was very different as a sparring partner. His movements were quick and decisive and where Jain had thought his grandfather had moved between attack and defense smoothly, the captain’s movements flowed like a river. As difficult as it was, Jain began to learn more ways to move and attack and defend than he had ever expected. One night when they had finished sparring and were sitting by a fire, the captain told him that they would arrive at the village of Jualde in a few days. Jualde was the north western bridge village of Tar Valon and where Jain was meant to separate from the caravan and go to the White Tower. The captain offered him the chance to stay on and become his second in command and to continue teaching him the sword. The captain showed him his sword and pointed out the herons emblazoned on the blade, pommel and scabbard and told him that he had no family and because of that, no sons and so when Jain earned it, he would give him his blade to mark him as a Blademaster. He told him to take his time to consider the offer and to tell him his decision when they reached the village.

Jain thought about the offer and what he could learn. The title of a Blademaster was nothing to take lightly after all and having a teacher right there and the promise of the heron once earned... Jain seriously considered it. But there he thought of his grandfather and his words. He thought Jain was meant for bigger things, to train in the Tower and to become a Gaidin... Blademaster was a prestigious title but to be a Gaidin was something more... Something greater somehow. Jain had heard that the Gaidin were among the most sought after swordsmen and that they knew no equal. Surely the Gaidin were Blademasters as well... But would he be able to achieve it? In the end, Jain decided that he would never know unless he tried and would always wonder what his life would have been like if he passed up this chance. When they reached Jualde, Jain told the captain his decision. He looked sorry to see him go and paid him his due and with a laugh told him the caravan would be back this way in a few months if he changed his mind. With that, the captain turned away and walked off, leaving Jain at the foot of the bridge to Tar Valon.


So this is the White Tower... It certainly is... White. Jain shook his head to clear his thoughts and started across the paving stones to the gate that led to the Tower Grounds. He walked up to the nearest guard and bowed formally with his hand on the pommel of his sword, as his grandfather had taught him. "Peace favor your sword. I am here to speak to Tomas Cambrim Gaidan. Might you be able to direct me to where I might find him?" The guard looked startled for a moment before regaining his composure and replied, "Peace Borderlander. The Gaidin have their barracks in that direction. You can seen the main buildings from here. They will be able to direct you to Tomas Gaidin. You should speak to the Master of Arms. He should be able to find him for you.


What a long time ago that had seemed... It was only a few months but with everything that had happened, it seemed to have been years ago. He met Lianna, the Aiel Novice and had become quick friends... the daily training with Sicca Gaidin and the subsequent permit to wear his own steel in the Training Yards... the thrill of being able to confront the leader of the Trainees that were harassing Lianna ceaselessly for her heritage and defeating him... and the shame that quickly followed the victory when he realized that it had come at the cost of another's life... Lianna hadn't approved of his use of a sword and had tried convincing him to give it up but she was willing to look past it because of their friendship but the look of horror on her face when she realized what he had done for her was unforgettable. She had recovered quickly as the other Trainees who had witnessed the midnight duel scattered to tell of what they saw and through the tears running down her cheeks, she told him of another place, a Grey Tower where he could continue the learning he had begun at the White. He didn't want to go without her especially now that the Trainees would likely redouble their efforts against her to get back at him, but she insisted that she could not leave the White Tower yet, that the Sisters had too much of an interest in a Aiel that could channel to allow her to escape them. So it was with a heavy heart that Jain left the Tower that night. Lianna promised him that they would be together again and she would come to the Grey Tower as soon as she could figure a way to get there.

So here he was in the Mountains of Mist, near the village of Elman’s creek. He had been directed to Hama Valon and after asking directions, found himself standing outside the door of the Grey Tower's Mistress of Arms, Amayani do Ciresh a'Sorene. He knocked on the door and waited to be admitted.

Career History

  • Drin