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Name: Alinore Kayberna
Pronunciation: Ahl-eh-nore Kay-behr-nah
Age: 45
Ajah: Brown
Nationality: Domani
Warder: Might be available
Talents: Dreamwalking, Weave Tracing

Mental and Physical Description:
She is tall, willowy, and though she was never trained, bears the grace of the Domani. She has hazel eyes that have seen too much, long dark hair. She is strong, and canny, and regards the world with a slightly cynical air. She makes all her own clothing, and has been searching for years for her brother Liam.

Biography / Audition Piece:

Ali looked out the tiny, dirty, window, and watched the rain pelt down. Always, it rained; it seemed like the winter would never end. The mold on the walls made her sneeze- she wanted the sun back to dry it out. But…there were three months left, one of them leaving the city cloaked in snow, before there was even a chance of a cloudbreak.

Far Madding was like that. This city was one of the most well to do cities in the world, supposedly safe from Aes Sedai, war, and poverty, safe for most to come into. So how was it that she, and her mother and little brother lived in squalor? Their house was far too tiny, and no matter how hard she and her mother tried to keep it clean, the filth managed to get in- sometimes overnight, as the mold had.

While she sat and mused, Ali's fingers pushed the needle through the cloth she had in her lap, sewing the seam straight and true, though her thoughts had been elsewhere. She sneezed, and looked at what she was sewing with bleary eyes. A child's play clothes. While she knew her sewing was skillful, she pitied the boy that would wear the pair of breeches- he'd be lucky if he only caught the flu from them.

Her mother coughed, a wracking sound that froze Ali's breath. When the older woman's hand came away from her mouth, Ali saw the speckles of dark liquid on her fingers before her mother hastily wiped them clean. But then she doubled over coughing again, and when she straightened, her lips were too bright against her dusky skin, and the brightness ran down her chin. "Mother?" She cried, alarmed. She put the tiny breeches aside, and crossed the room, to kneel beside the sick woman. "Mother, answer me!" Keeping her panic under control was difficult, but she managed it. She didn't need Liam screaming.

"Alinore?" Lesande Kayberna seemed bemused by the name she'd just uttered. "Alinore- you need to get out of here. You'll-" she paused, coughing again. Ali wiped her mouth clean when she stopped the spasms. "You'll end up just like I am, if you stay, dying unnoticed, forgotten as soon as you're buried. Or in my case, dumped in the river. You're pretty, Alinore, like I was once- you have a chance, so take it. I'm not going to be around to protect you much longer."

Her mother sighed quietly at the question in Ali's eyes. "You're only fifteen, dearest, but you don't look it. I've seen them…watching you…like crows. The only things protecting you are the peace law and myself, and when I'm gone the peace law will be worth about as much as snapping your fingers. The only way to protect yourself…embrace who you are, Ali. Dress well, smile pretty to those who smile at you, you'll be fine."

"What!?" Ali leapt to her feet, and smacked her head on the ceiling. She rubbed it, irritated. "Mother, what in the Light are you talking about?" She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly what Lesande was talking about, but surely- not her mother?

"Smile, Ali. Smile, and dress pretty. There's cloth in my closet- do your best dearest, with what you sew from it. Take your opportunities when you get them, and run with the wind." Her mother's eyes looked…fuzzy.

"What about Liam?" Ali felt trapped- she disliked the sensation even more than she disliked her life.

"The city…will take care of him. When you're older you can get him again, but for now, he'll be fostered with a family in a better part of the city. They're coming to get him in an hour."

"Mother!" Ali leapt to her feet, whirling to look at Liam, who played with his blocks, oblivious to the catastrophe that had just hit his home. "Mother, I won't do this! I can take care of Liam, without giving myself to- to-" To the wolves. To those who would destroy her. But it was only then that she realized she had accepted the fact that her mother was dying, and she felt tears dribbling down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry I haven't taught you all I could, but they'll do anything for your attention even without it, sweet." Ali scowled, looking down. It's not bloody fair. She was tall, and willowy, and her skin glowed the vibrant copper her mother's had only a few months before. I'm not made for this life. She knew if she looked in the mirror she would see hazel eyes with the longest eyelashes any woman could have, a perfect nose, and a woman's lips.

"I won't." Alinore crossed her arms. "I can sew well enough to support us. I won't do that."

"If you wish to die, feel free." Some spirit returned to the dying woman, and she sat up straight. "I want this even less than you do, Ali. Do you think I'd throw my daughter to the wolves if there was any other way?" The repetition of her own thought by someone else made Ali shiver. "I showed you how to walk. Do it. Do whatever you have to. But!" Lesande struggled to stay upright, and for once Ali didn't try to help her. She felt like she was in a different world, floating among black and purple clouds that wanted to eat her. "But swear to me that you will do everything you can to get free, when you have the money. Open a shop, if that's what you want. Do anything- just get out!"

And though Ali would rather have died than do what her mother wanted at that moment, she finally understood. Her mother wasn't selling her- she was giving her a way out…though it would take a while to become reality. Nodding sharply, she strode to the cupboard her mother had mentioned, pulled the carefully wrapped bundle off the shelf within, got her cloak from the hook by the door, and then returned to Lesande's side. "Far Madding has nothing for you anymore." She smiled dreamily, though her words were serious, and she knew that her mother would probably be dead before she got out the door. "Go to Ebou Dar, or Tear. Someplace close, that's prosperous. You'll make it, I know."

More tears stinging down her cheeks, Ali leaned down, gave the frail woman that had once been her energetic, loving, optimistic mother a fierce hug, and left the house before she lost her nerve.

The wolves were ravenous.

Three years had passed; she couldn't believe it. Three years of hell, and it felt like three days. She turned over in her bed, and ran a hand through her hair, noting that she needed to bathe. "I'm eighteen today," she muttered sleepily.

Suddenly everything clicked into place, and she sat up, ignoring the grumble from the opposite side of the bed. She pulled on a robe, then went into her dressing room, skimming through the gowns hanging on their hooks. She despised every one of them, save the one she had made in the days after she'd left home. It had been the one that had sold her, but it had been what her mother had given her. It still fit, though the bodice was tighter than she would have liked, now.

She had no idea how Lesande had gotten her hands on that much rust-colored silk, but it had been the right color for Ali's complexion. She had turned that silk into a dress an Aes Sedai would have been proud to wear, and it still looked fine enough to sell for something. But she wouldn't- she had better things to sell, things that hadn't cost her a penny.

Choosing the best of the dresses from the dressing room, gifts from the wolves she had served over the years, she folded them into a cloak. Then she left, creeping past the man sleeping in her bed. She knew she wouldn't be back- he would rage, but she didn't give a bloody goat's eye. She spat on the door as she turned away, then strode down the hallway, down the stairs, and out of the inn.

She was in the Maule, and the stink of the sea made her nose curl. She liked most smells, but she despised two smells, and she knew she would never be reconciled with them. The first was the smell of mold, and mildew. Of rot. The second was the smell that filled her nose at that moment: dead fish, salt water, dirt, and, as always, poverty. "Alinore! Burn me, I'm glad you're getting out."

The only decent man she'd ever known was walking toward her. She smiled almost sadly at Kadin Mearne, and shifted her bundle. "Yes, I'm getting out," she said, turning to walk on. He joined her, and she smiled at him. He was the same height as she, and no Tairen. Maybe Andoran; he'd never told her, but he definitely wasn't Aiel, and Andor gave some redheads she'd heard. "I'm selling these," she shook the bundle, "and using the money to leave."

"Where are you going?" He asked. He was her age; maybe a little younger. He walked with a natural swagger that drew eyes, and he never went past a jewelry shop -or any other shop that sold anything worthwhile- without the guards outside putting their hands to their swords. They had reason- she'd seem him nip a purse right out of a lady's hand, and she hadn't noticed it until the two of them were safely away. He'd had the nerve to tell the Watch that he thought he'd seen the thief run off 'that way, sir. Yes, he was short and dark- blue eyes though…very unusual.'

"I think I'm going to Tar Valon." Ali looked at the ground. "I've heard that the White Tower takes in girls. I swore to my mother that I wouldn't remain in this hole any longer than I had to- and I have the means to get out now."

"Do you know why Tar Valon takes in girls?" Kadin seemed worried.

"I know they test women for the ability to channel, and if they have it, they let them train to be Aes Sedai," Ali said simply. "I also know they let women train with their Warders, and that's what I want to do."

"At least you've got the fairly straight facts. I was worried you'd have heard tales of piles of gold for the taking or some such nonsense." Ali snorted, and Kadin blushed. "Tear isn't exactly the best place to hear tales about Tar Valon, sunshine."

"Ehm…'sunshine'?" She asked, surprised.

"You have to have a nickname, right? You must have a reason you don't use Ali." He eyed a merchant, and Ali caught his arm.

"Don't you dare- those men are guards." She nodded to men in rough leather. "I've never let anyone call me Ali, because that was my mother's name for me," she said, half pulling Kadin past the merchant. "I didn't want to give that to the people I hated."

Kadin smiled crookedly. "I'm supposing since you're telling me this, that I'm not included in their number?"

"Of course not, numbskull. You want to come to Tar Valon with me?" She supposed she should have expected his almost child-like glee over the invitation. "Don't you have anyone who will care you're gone?" she asked, when he wanted to leave immediately.

"No," he said, looking at his feet and shaking his head. "I've never had anyone who would care- Ali." His eyes looked up at her, but his head didn't move.

"Prove yourself and I will care," she said simply. He nodded, understanding, and immediately took her bundle and carried it himself. It was difficult not to laugh.

Email Marla for more information.