Background
Durram Morrad was born late to his parents, and an only child. Grand-nephew to one of the most respected scholars of the age, and son of a wealthy financier mother and skilled ter’angreal artisan father, both of whom had achieved third names before he was born, Durram always knew he was destined for great things. Even in his teens, many thought Durram might one day rival or surpass his grand-uncle Ishar’s genius. Inheriting his parent’s great wealth when they tragically perished in a jo-car accident, a suspected sabotage, he immediately continued their philanthropic works, first founding an orphanage to help care for all those who lost parents in the riots and arsons that were becoming epidemic in those years. As an alternative to the rising number of gangs, most dreaded amongst them being the Drin’a’shadar, the Soldiers of the Shadow, Durram founded the Morrad Youth Center for Troubled Teens. At the young age of 19, he was awarded much praise and many already spoke of when he would get his third name, for his great service.

But in truth, Durram already had a third name, Cordin, Night Brother, his secret name amongst Drin’a’shadar, where he rose to be second in command to Dareis’a’shadar, the Spear of the Shadow, a powerful speaker and channeler who was a student and lieutenant of Elan Morin Tedronai. Both the orphanage and youth center were little more than fronts for recruiting and indoctrination for the cult, and along with the enormous wealth he funneled to the Shadow he had become as respected a figure amongst them as his public persona.

When open hostilities with the Shadow began, Durram’s city was amongst the first to fall, after he led a peace protest that turned into a riot just as the forces of the Shadow approached the city. The city fell easily, and Durram, now openly calling himself Cordin, helped lead the purges of those who would not change their loyalties. On seeing the Shadowspawn in action and proud of his kinsmen’s great accomplishment, Cordin sent thousands of his fellow citizens off to camps for experimentation. For their great success, Dareis was granted rulership of the city and access to the True Power, and Cordin was placed in charge of a newly formed company, made up of members of the Drin’a’Shadar and myrddrall. A small elite unit that conducted raids, sabotage, kidnappings, and assassination. The company became known as the Shadardrin, and Cordin, their chief, became known as Cordin Carshadardrin.

By fortune, after conducting a kidnapping of a prominent official for Semirhage, he was introduced to Demandred and Messana, the latter of whom complimented him on his use of orphanage and youth centers as recruiting means. Dareis, now amongst the most prominent of the Chosen, was a rival of the trio, and now half mad from his use of the True Power, like his own mentor, Ishamael. Cordin, fearful of Dareis’s growing madness and ambitious in his own right, helped carry out his assassination. Cordin, now amongst the second tier of the Shadow, served many of the so-called Forsaken in the years which followed, until his injury and capture in the closing days of the war. His execution stayed only while they sought to wring valuable intelligence from him, Cordin knew his days were numbered, and he despaired when his jailers mocked him, telling him the Hundred Companions had sealed the Bore. Not wishing to believe them, assuming it was merely a lie to loosen his tongue and break his will, Cordin finally began to believe them when he was dragged out of his cell to be executed.

When moments before his death was to be, one of his jailers attacked the others, he at first thought the man was a secret ally of the Dark, and was freeing him. As the jailer killed his companions Cordin broke free, only to realize the man was mad, and fled as the sa’angreal wielding madman destroyed all around him.

Journeying back to the lands held by the Shadow, Cordin could no longer doubt the Bore had been sealed, and those lands held by the Shadow degenerated very quickly into chaos. Horrified by the utter failure of his cause, he wandered for a time before coming to a town that was attacked by a mad channeler, and in the ensuing battle the channeler was slain, but Cordin was greatly wounded. Not knowing his former allegiance, the people of the town cared for him and tended his wounds. While still not fully healed, a group of Aiel came to the town and told them that another channeler was coming, and convinced them to travel to a nearby Stedding until the man passed. Barely able to walk himself, he was surprised and confused when one of the Aiel helped him walk, the weak deserved to die after all.

Cordin stayed in the Stedding for some time, deep with despair and coming to regret all he had done in service to the Shadow. Soon the townsfolk left, and Cordin remained with the Aiel and Ogiers for some years. When earthquakes came they eventually fled, seeking another Stedding, but Cordin remained for several more days, before finally leaving, convinced the Stedding would be destroyed and following the path of the departed Aiel and Ogiers. When their path split, he began to follow the path of the Ogiers, who would surely find the way to another Stedding which he sought. He had gone fewer than a hundred paces before he doubled back and followed the Aiel instead, not understanding why, as they were not seeking another Stedding.

When he came across them some days later, he found them slaughtered, and all their possessions taken. He followed the tracks of the bandits on the barren and broken landscape for two days, before finding them on a rocky outcropping beside a dry river, where they’d been following a lone set of cart tracks.

A single arm grasping a waterskin was all that remained of the small party of bandits, sticking out from the rubble where the outcropping had collapsed beneath them, burying them in the ravine. Cordin retrieved this, and replaced the stopper, less than half remained, and he hung it from his belt near his own half-full canteen. His ankle hurt, he must have turned it, but he didn’t know when, just now maybe, maybe days ago, he didn’t know. He picked up a spear that lay nearby, thrown free during the collapse, and leaned his weight on it. He laughed, Dareis had been fond of spears. While many others trained with swords, his former master had preferred the spear that was his namesake, Cordin knew how to use the weapon, though for now it would serve better as walking stick.

Setting off, Cordin soon came across the cart, the person who had pulled it all this way was offering water to many ragged people, he looked rather ragged himself. Laughing again, Cordin looked down at this own dusty and tattered clothes, his boots alone seemed in good condition. His parents had owned a boot factory, he had owned it later, they’d advertised that the boots would last a lifetime, not a false boast after all. They’d been on their way to inspect the factory the day they died, when he’d sabotaged their jo-car.

Cordin, who was once Durram, slowly approached the cart, leaning his weight on the spear, and watched as many of the villagers brought out items and gave them to the man who’d given them water. He recognized ter’angreal, to his surprise one was a device his father had made, the distinctive logo visible on the thin bracelet. Worthless now, it used the Standing Flows to send a distress signal, telling emergency workers where the person was. His father had made many like that, what was once a handy device for summoning aid for hikers and risk takers had become valuable during the chaos before the War of Power, as assaults and attacks had become all too common occurrences in the once peaceful age. He’d turned quite a profit from them, he and Dareis had used to laugh at the irony of that, since they’d been behind so many of those attacks. Somehow, it didn’t seem so funny anymore.

Unclipping the waterskin from his belt, he slowly placed it on the cart, catching the owner’s eye, and slowly picked up the small worthless bracelet.

“May I have this?” He asked.

Appearance: Human, tall, athletic build, short blonde hair, blue eyes, wears black with blue and silver trim, early 40's, looks younger but this being the AoL he presumably looks as one would expect of early 40's. Carries a canteen and a belt knife and a dark brown leather satchel with some food in it, now mostly empty.