(It's a bit long, and I still need to fill out the strengths and weaknesses (which I'll do tomorrow), but just let me know if there's anything in need of correction as it stands now)

[h3]Name[/h3] 
Tai Enle 

[h3]Age[/h3]
31

[h3]Gender[/h3]
Male

[h3]Physical description[/h3] 
Tai is of medium height, ruddy complexion, broad of shoulder and stout of build. His face is broad, and red of cheek, with a small nose, high cheekbones, nearly black epicanthic eyes, and the frail suggestion of a beard. He is not handsome, but his smile is friendly and instantly alluring, and his eyes have a kind of light behind them. His hair is, as per the Sendar style, done up in a topknot, and deep umber in color. His eyes are slightly weak, and at times, especially when he is reading, he must use a pince-nez. He wears for the most part the blue-and-saffron livery of the Sendar: tight breeches tucked into high calfskin boots, a belted tunic, and a long hooded robe which can itself be belted as befits the weather.


[h3]Background[/h3] 
Tai Enle was born the fourth son of an affluent Candorin family whose lineage could be traced nearly to the time of Emperor Shinji——may he live for all eternity in the Thousand Blessed Halls——the many-laureled conqueror of Jodalanga. Many of his ancestors had served the Crystal Throne as ministers, magistrates, generals, advisers, and one, the esteemed Guro Enle, had served as the Emperor's own bodyguard and personal attendant. 

The Enle family have proven themselves to be the servants of a grand posterity, a legacy of selfless service and indefatigable devotion which have marked them in the imperial chronicling for as long as the Empire remains. 

Tai knew from very early in his life that he would not be one of those venerable ancestors to whom shrines are erected and who appear in the histories as "great and honorable personages". He always has felt uncomfortable with the burden lain upon his shoulders, and his father made sure to make a point of what was expected of him. He knew that, despite his best efforts, he would not live up to them, at least not to the standard set by his father and his brothers. His birth was both late and more-or-less unexpected. No one had thought that Lady Enle could have born a son at such an age——thirty is considered perhaps the latest stage at which a woman could come to term without difficulties, though it was not unheard of to see some pregnancies at thirty-five. But thirty-seven, most agreed, was unusual. And, no doubt, unnecessary. His brothers were, naturally, older, and had already achieved some status. The eldest son, Yu, was a cavalry captain in he army and known to be brilliant. The second eldest attained the post of Vice-Majordomo of the Treasury at court, one which promised a gilded career. The third eldest was yet a bachelor, but considered to be one of the premier matches of Candorin, and already tell could be heard of his inevitable engagement to Nila Qang, the chief daughter of the rising Qang family. His sister, Sha, herself was being courted by a coterie of promising suitors, and was a remarkable musician. 

The status occupied by Tai in this arrangement was an ambivalent one, and made more awkward by his lack of ambition. Although not physically weak by any standard, he was as a child rotund, and thus prone to shyness. He shirked the endeavors of his attendants and parents to socialize him, and unfailingly proved a disappointment to them. He was naturally quite intelligent, but impeded by his nervousness and shyness. He was thought to be a dullard, a dolt, a stammering idiot. 

Thus, when his magical ability manifested itself, it came rather as a relief to everyone. Although perhaps not precisely [i]honorable[/i] according to the standards of the Enle, it was nevertheless respectable, although the Lord Enle had always harbored a certain measure of discomfort towards the mages. "Something about them makes one's skin crawl," he was wont to say, "There's something...[i]disingenuous[/i] about them." Perhaps that kernel of discomfiture had always been an element of his distaste towards his son, though he had been unable to explain it. 

In any case, Tai was sent off to be immersed in the art of the Sendar at the young age of eight. His mother, despite herself, wept at his leave taking. 

Tai would not see either of them for another ten years, until his mother's funeral. 

Tai was uncomfortable with his gift. It was not something he had ever thought he could have been capable of. He rejected it, although he was rather skilled. And this earned him the opprobrium of his instructors. He was considered surly——an uncouth whelp of a wealthy family, spoiled and irreverent to the hallowed teachings of the Sendar. He lashed out at others. He was cruel. And secretly he thought himself somehow special, somehow distinct from those around him. The typical defense of the disliked. 

His cruelty was a simple thing to circumvent, and only deepened his ostracization. Like many, he found escape in literature. 

He read voraciously, consumed knowledge by the bowlful as he did his rice. He grew broad, and tall, and his fat gradually waned to thick muscle. He had, long ago, forgotten his anger and now was simply neutral, uninterested, neither distinguishing himself nor failing to meet the requisite standards of skill. He had no friends or acquaintances, and neither did he have the expectation of acquiring them. He drifted, performing unconsciously and uncomplainingly the actions demanded of him, all while cultivating some internal efflorescence. He might not have thought it, but he was watched. 

It came as rather a rude awakening to him when it was requested that he serve as a scribal assistant by Master Arishaka, the chief Calligraphist of the Temple. Tai's calligraphy was piddling at best, but Arishaka, with a characteristic serenity, said that he could learn. 

And so, sullenly, he went. It came as a surprise to him that Arishaka's beatific façade secreted a barbarian. He often returned to his cot with welts and bruises, often weeping. But he [i]learned[/i]. He was quiet, and seemed always to be simmering inside, but he acquiesced to the Master's teachings, and to the school's. He wrote beautifully, and efficaciously, and he, over time, came to earn the Master's respect. 
He softened, though he did so with reluctance. He fought incessantly with his unseemly tongue, but he even made sallies forth to his peers, and despite his reputation did manage to earn some acquaintances. Eventually, he himself became a scribe, and, because he was quiet, began to accompany Sendar delegations to the court. And all the while, he read, and read, and read. Though he might not have recognized it or admitted it then, some part of him succumbed, and he vaguely began to realize that perhaps he was not so special after all. 

Following his mother's death (to which he reacted with discomfort), Master Arishaka sent him with a letter of introduction to the Governor of Balenia, who deferred him to serve as a scribe of the Prefect of Jolborn. It was a kind of new beginning for Tai. He was sad to say goodbye to Master Arishaka, but realized that he, and his days with him at the escritoire, were perhaps the only thing he would miss of the Temple. 

The Prefect was an equitable man, and a scholar himself, and enjoined Tai to his court quite naturally. Balenia was not precisely the most sought after posting, and perhaps he had merely been happy to see a new face. But he began sending Tai on all sorts of errands. 

He learned Balenian——a requisite of the job, considering the nature of the missions upon which he was sent. Negotiating trade disputes with bearded northeners to whom Candorin was little more than a distant rumor, and the like. And in this way, he passed five years. 

He changed much during that time. Though he was still awkward, his bumbling, coupled with his intelligence, earned him friends who at first found him to be amusing, and then fascinating. He was forced, after a time, to become more equanimous, given his task and post. He came to occupy a position of favor with the Prefect, who often passed along his advice to the governor. He took a kind of pleasure in the scarcity of the skirling vistas of hoarfrosted mountains, snowbound valleys, smiling cheeks red from the chill. 

Although he was loath to take leave of him, the Prefect offered Tai a scribal position in the Governor's cabinet. It was here that his reputation as a diplomatist and scholar were made, and he cut a fine figure at the court of Földo. The governor's wife called him "charming". 

Here Tai first learned of the imperial fascination with maltahil. Though he had heard of the herb from his readings on Amara, he had never himself sampled it. The trade seemed to have come out of nowhere; he had been gone, or had been disinterested, for too long to trace its rise. 

The bitter brew allowed him to concentrate, while simultaneously relaxing him deeply. He drank it late into the night while he did his reading, and soon he had become quite addicted. Indeed, he was in love. Out of perfunctory interest, he delved deeper into the known scholarship on Amara, and found it to be lacking. He thought it ludicrous that the largest empire in the known world could know so little; they hardly even knew where maltahil came from, and much less about the people who grew it or consumed it. It was a deep, furtive jungle, yes; but Tarrmenia was a sun-baked desert, and that had not stopped their forebears, had it? There had not even been a rigorous study of their language mounted. 

And it was thus, quite unexpectedly, that he became fascinated with Amara. 

He remained at Földo for three years. At the news of Master Arishaka's passing, he returned to Candorin. His father was ill, and his siblings more illuminated than ever. They treated him like a stranger, for after all, he was. 

Following Arishaka's funeral, he went to the Temple and requested a posting at the treaty port of Kuma, with the express intention of preparing a study of Amaran language and culture for the Empire. Initially he was balked at——was he not a student of Balenia, after all? But his breadth and depth of knowledge surprised the Sendar masters, and the letter of introduction from the Governor of Balenia he brought spoke gushingly of his exploits and virtues. Interest in Amara was growing in the Empire, and already a Sendar chapter had been established in Kuma, though there was not yet an effort to mount an effort such as Tai desired. 

Perhaps a bit reluctantly, they agreed. And in the span of three months, he was on a ship on his way to Kuma. He was twenty-seven. 

The change of climate shocked him, but he soon was able to apply the knowledge he had learned of Amara. Although he was able to conduct a great deal of research in the year before the outbreak of the Crisis, it was lamentably insufficient, and tensions between the imperials and the natives steadily mounted. The surprise feint of the Empire did not take him by surprise, and he, and a number of Sendar, managed to escape the carnage of the sack of Kuma. He, along with the other Sendar, were nominally enjoined to the forces of the Master Monukut and the staff of General Geerathan. For the first time in his life, Tai was forced to fight, and found it distasteful. Their sallies against the shamans were always turned back, and he saw scores of his compatriots slain by the cunning of their enemy, one which they could not attack if they did not attack them first. The Vow consumed legions of Sendar, and continued to do so. And Tai's project, with the very little that he had, fell by the wayside. 

He currently serves as an adjutant to Master Mori, penning attachés and status reports for the chain-of-command. And all the while, he is uncertain of what the future may hold, and whether or not there is any end in sight to the Crisis. 

[h3]Strenghts[/h3]


[h3]Weaknesses[/h3]