Age: 19,
Height: slightly taller than average.
Weight: about 210 pounds
Appearance: Hideous beyond belief.
As a child Thindrithma (then called Will) worked on his fathers farm. His father, Lorian, held the largest farm in the lands just south of the Hills of Kintara, and north of Far Madding. Being as wills mother died while birthing him, his father alone raised him, for you see Lorian never re-married. Nothing Young will ever did was right in his father's eyes. "Too much feed to the chickens Will! Not enough straw in the pen! You should like to have had 3 or 4 cords of wood cut by now!" And always followed with a cuff or two for good measure. The simple truth be told, most around those parts thought Lorian hit his son too much and the bottle too often. For as often as not Will was seen to have one or two large purple bruises. On some occasions an eye would be swollen closed. So it was no wonder the boy spoke very little and rarely looked any one in the eye. I was said Lorian blamed his wife's death on poor Will. Late one evening, Will had come into the house with a bit of mud on his boots and his father, deep in his drink, flew in to a rage. Grabbing the closest thing at hand, in this case a lamp, Lorian threw it at Will, Striking him squarely on the head. The lamp burst apart in a conflagration of glass and flame. In his agony and fear, Will channeled Saidin and blindly lashed out at the target of all his anger and pain for so many years. His father.
With is head and face still aflame and his father clearly killed with the Power, Will fled the house and never looked back. Weeks later he found himself in Lugard. Fearful that news of what he had done would follow him he changed his name often. A poor and pitiful sight he made. With his face and hands savagely burned he was unable to find honest work. Night after night, as he lay cold and hungry, he cursed his hateful father's memory. He sought solace in the dark. For only in the dark could one not see the scars on face and hands and heart. Then one night while he lay in fitful sleep, a vision of the Dark One himself came to him. In his dream, he bade Will stand and take his hand. And though terror griped him by the bone, he spoke, "I'll not abandon the Light! I'll not walk with you." Then the vision spoke,
"AND WHY NOT? HAS NOT THE LIGHT ABUSED YOU? HAS NOT THE LIGHT ABANDONED YOU? EVER WAS YOUR NAME CURSED. COME, TAKE MY HAND AND I SHALL GIVE YOU A NEW NAME. ONE MEN WILL COME TO FEAR "
So it was no surprise that on that night, laying broken, and hungry in the gutter of a dank alley, Thindrithma was born into the Dark, with only a shadowy hint of greatness and the very real promise of madness.