• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fandom ♛ Blackfyre : A Game Of Thrones RP - Character Sheets

Main
Here
OOC
Here



  • 574534


    Name :
    Domeric Stark

    Titles :
    Heir To Winterfell
    The Traitor


    Age :
    22
    ( 278 AC )

    Marital Status :
    Single

    Family :


    SEE Lord Walton Stark


    Biography :

    The only living son of Lord Walton Stark and his wife. Recently dubbed a “traitor” to House Targaryen’s campaign after he rode south to inform King Naemidon of Northern plots.

    Other :
    Domeric is 6’4.

    He is very adept at swordplay. Some say the best man at Winterfell.

    Domeric struggles to read and write.

 
Last edited:
.
[class=fyuri11wrapper] max-width:600px; height:600px; margin:auto; [/class] [class=fyuri11imagebox] width:100%; height:500px; background:url('http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/3400000/Tyrell-a-song-of-ice-and-fire-3437912-825-648.jpg') no-repeat; [/class] [class=fyuri11overlayparent] display: flex; align-items: center; justify-content: center; max-width:600px; height:500px; [/class] [class=fyuri11overlay] display: flex; width:500px; height:200px; margin:auto; background-color:rgba(0,0,0, 0.8); color:rgb(68, 4, 4); [/class] [class=fyuri11header] display: flex; align-items: center; justify-content: center; flex-flow: column nowrap; text-align:center; width:100%; font-family: 'Sigmar One', Impact; font-size:30px; color:#fff; [/class] [class=fyuri11parent] opacity:0.0; position:relative; margin-top:-500px; width:100%; height:500px; background:#000; transition: all 0.5s ease; [/class] [class name=fyuri11parent state=hover] opacity:1.0; width:calc(100% - 20px); height:480px; background:rgb(1, 114, 27); padding:10px; [/class] [class=fyuri11content] width:calc (100% - 20px); height:460px; background-color:#fff; overflow:auto; padding:10px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; [/class] [class=fyuri11credit] max-width:400px; margin:auto; opacity:0.3; font-size:10px; [/class]
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Ser Tristan Tyrell
Lord of Highgarden and Lord Paramount of the Mander
[/div]

[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11parent][div class=fyuri11content]
Appearance:
573570
Lord Tristan Tyrell’s appearance, is perhaps best described as being somewhat comely. Although no one would name him the most dashing man in Westeros he does have a particular charm to him, perhaps a result of the signature Tyrell features he dons so well, the silvery brown locks coupled with the deep hazel eyes, do certainly stand out.
Age: Six-and-thirty
Marital Status: Married to Lady Meredyth Florent
Family Tree:
573569
Biography: Just as in life, so too at birth did his lordship prove his eagerness to experience all that the world had to offer. Born, two months before his mother was set to deliver, the scrawny babe would cling to his wetnurse's teats until they were all but dry as if to say "don't you give up on me yet!". Maester Hugor spent every waking minute tending to the child's health, but the man was old, nearing his 90th name-day and as such there was not much he could do other than instruct. The real work was done by Septa Ysabel and her ever helpful novices, the woman was determined to tutor the boy in the faith they said, save the child from an early death only to make him want to jump off of the old white walls of Highgarden at the pain of having to put to memory another long passage from the seven pointed star.

Ever since Tristan learned to walk all he'd want was to be right beside his brother in everything he'd do. Never was there a time you could spot master Theo without the little brother trailing close behind. When once it was decided that Tristan was not old enough to practice sparring with wooden swords along with his brother, the child broke off a flimsy little branch from a nearby tree and charged the then master-at-arms Jon Hewett, fully intent on ending the man's life or so he bellowed as he was carried away by members of the household guard. This love for his brother shouldn't be mistaken for a dependency of some sort, lord Tristan was very much his own man, as a boy of just ten-and-two he'd travel all the way to old town just to explore the less savory parts of the undercity, so as to verify with his own eyes some of the tales traders coming up the Mander told of. Here, it must be said that the rumors of the lord having sired countless bastards in that very city are patent untrue, although, like many lords his age there were certainly some questionable liaisons, lord Tristan did nothing to dishonor his house. Especially, after his marriage to the lady Meredyth, his lordship has been the image of faithfulness ever since that joyous occasion.

The couple would not have long to enjoy their union however, for after having carried their second born for eight whole months the realm was at war. The Dornish were the first to attack, spilling out though the prince's pass ravaging the countryside. Lord Bertrand, eager to put the Dornish in their place and believing the Blackfyre threat to be of no real concern, rode out with his brother, son and a sufficiently sizable host which was only to be supplemented by bannermen from down south, or so he hoped. Lord Tristan elected to stay with his wife for he did not wish to miss the birth of what promised to be his first son. Empty promises and quite a bit of stalling left the Tyrell force much smaller than what was expected, although many did join the Lord Paramount and his men, it would not prove to be enough. The Dornishmen had superior numbers, controlled the highground, were well fed from all the plunder and their morale was certainly booming. Lord Tyrell was confident however that a strong charge from their cavalry and knowledge about the surroundings would win them the day and choose to make their stand there at the mouth of the Torentine. Accounts of what followed differ, but the battle was certainly close, some say that the only reason the Tyrells lost was because of mass desertion from the houses that had pledged loyalty to them for centuries. What is certain however, is that the men of house Tyrell were all cut down in the field one by one. Those like Alester Tyrell who were able to flee in search for reinforcements found themselves in the dungeons of some lowly reach lord trying to ingratiate themselves with the new order.

Upon hearing about his father's death it was as if Lord Tristan was a wholly different man. His wroth knew no bounds, not even servants were except from his ire. He made plans every moment with all those still loyal to his house, indeed if required he was ready to ride out with naught but a hundred knights to face the murdering brigands. It was Lady Meredyth, still recovering from a harsh birthing who proved to be the only one that would be able to soothe the fires. What was said behind closed doors, we will never know but what we do know is that in a weeks time, the Tyrells had surrendered Highgarden and awaited whatever punishment the rightful king deemed fit. What followed were a slew of insults, each aimed at humiliating the once great house, they would be allowed to keep much of their lands and vassals too, but the Dornishmen would be the ones truly in control with garrisons of the mongrels placed in every keep, even at the very heart of the reach, Highgarden.

Perhaps, the greatest insult, greater even still than having to bend the knee to your father's murderers was what they started calling the boy child Roger, who'd been born just weeks before the surrender of Highgarden. "Whitesired" they called him, both an insult to the father and the son, first it was something that caught on with the invading Dornishmen but soon it was being used by the turncloaks that had readily sworn fealty to the new King the first chance they got.
Other:
Ser Tristan rides a destrier named Glitterhoof into battle and at tourneys, the name was the result of a drunken jape about how funny it would be if a knight were name his horse called Glitterhoof the queen of love and beauty.


[/div]
[/div]
[/div]
[div class=fyuri11credit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
 
Last edited:

  • Full Name:
    Walton Stark

    Titles:
    Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North

    Age:
    42

    Marital Status:
    Married to Lady Barbrey Bolton

    Family:
    573594

    Biography:
    A second son of the most prestigious family in the North, Walton Stark was born in a time of peace for the Seven Kingdoms, during the reign of King Maegor the Fool, whose preoccupation with southern affairs kept his gaze far away from the North and her people, allowing House Stark and its subjects the freedom and autonomy to rule its vast domains as it pleased. This suited the North, whom had always been the most insular of the Seven Kingdoms, and throughout his early years, Walt remained almost entirely ignorant of the south, with his only exposure to southern culture and legends being through tales told by his wet nurse and later governess, who was prone to hyperbole and exaggeration.

    As a youth, Walt developed into a headstrong and rash young man, possessing the ancient wolf’s blood of House Stark, traits which were only encouraged by his father as far as they related to martial pursuits, for Lord Errold Stark already had an heir in his elder son; Cregan, and now sought to groom a commander, or at the very least a capable new recruit for the Night’s Watch. It was for this purpose that Walt was given as a ward to House Umber of the Last Hearth, which Lord Errold hoped would instill him with a sense of duty, and a disdain for the the Wildling raiders who frequently encroached upon Umber territory by stealing their sheep or their women. Walt was not alone in this wardship, however, for Lord Errold encouraged cooperation and friendship amongst the Northern aristocracy, and Walt was accompanied to the Last Hearth by sons of various other Northern Lords, such as his cousins, the Mormonts of Bear Island, the Manderlys of White Harbour, and the Reeds of Greywater Watch. This allowed Walt to develop close friendships with many of his peers, and they would often ride, hunt and feast together, as Walt established a circle that would last him well into the future. This was not to say that he was universally loved by those around him, for Walt’s upbringing meant that he had a preference for the strong and able, and whilst his friends found him charming, funny and capable, his critics would describe him as somewhat brutish, and a bit of a bully in regards to the younger boys and men at arms at the Last Hearth. Picking fights had become a common habit of the future Lord of Winterfell, for Walt liked to play rough, an attitude that would lead to the loss of an eye during the wildling raid upon one of the Last Hearth’s tributary hamlets, for whilst Walt had been able to fell the poorly armed and inexperienced little man with ease, the talon’s of the man’s raven proved a tougher foe.

    Lord Umber had not been the most hospitable of hosts, for he was as harsh upon his wards as he would be upon any common man, and would oft send them upon ‘character building activities’ like making them sleep open-air in the Northern Mountains or having them fend for their own food. It was during this period that Walt began to first grow interested in girls, and as a Stark he had his choice of the scullery maids or blacksmith’s daughters, though upon the occasions in which Lord Umber would discover such activities, Walt would be made to sleep outside in the nude, a fate which he may had objected to had he feared frostbite any more than he feared Lord Umber.

    By his late teens, Walt would leave the service of House Umber and return home to Winterfell, where his father had arranged his marriage. Despite his earlier dalliances, Walt was not one to displease his father, for Lord Errold had a black temper, and a strict disposition, and agreed to marry a daughter of one of his father’s paramount bannerman; Lord Bolton of the Dreadfort. But Lord Errold did not have a heart of stone, and Walt was allowed to pick which of Lord Bolton’s three daughters he would take as his bride. The eldest daughter was comely, and came with the most generous dowry, the second daughter was even more beautiful to look upon, but it was the third that caught Walt’s attention the most. She bore a scar from chin to cheek, and was unresponsive when Walt attempted to strike up a conversation. Her father had apologetically explained that the girl was faulty, and had been unable to speak since she was a young girl, promising that his other daughters were much more talkative. But Walt was fascinated, and no protest could dissuade him from his new infatuation.

    So it was that Walton Stark was wed to Lady Barbrey Bolton, and whilst the initial months of their union were icy and distant the two grew to be happy, for although she had no voice, Barb was more than a match for her husband intellectually, and could mimic his wild nature, enjoying the ride and hunt as much as any man. Her perpetual silence proved to be a good foil for the young Stark, who was known to be loud and rambunctious, and it was a common observation in Winterfell at the time, that she was the only women who could get Walt to close his mouth for more than a few seconds at a time.

    The couple would reach the height of their happiness upon the birth of their first child; Theon Stark, though such joy would be short lived, for it had been a cold autumn, and the boy had been a sickly child, carried away by a harsh chill before he achieved his second nameday. Such tragedy was thought to be the worst of the couple’s luck, until a similar fate befell their second child, Rodrik Stark whose birth and death occurred in only a few months proximity. Walt was beset by grief, but Lord Errold refused to facilitate such behavior from his son, taking him aside and giving him a whack, for grief was a luxury that could be enjoyed only by women and the Dornish, not a Stark of Winterfell. The message had been harsh, but Walt understood his father’s words well, and despite the future losses of several more children to illness and disease, he would simply adopt a more rigid demeanor, for life went on as it always had. This had been Walt’s attitude upon the birth of his fourth son, Domeric, whose elder brother: Torrhen’s death occupied the same fortnight as his birth. Walt was quick to write off the child as another lost cause, and resolved to remain distant, lest he grow too attached, an attitude that remained stagnant for all following children, which proved apt in most cases, as his eldest daughter perished at six, and his second at ten, with half a dozen more children following them to early graves. In Walt’s eyes it seemed that he had failed his duty as a father to keep his children safe and protected. But Domeric kept on living.

    When war struck Westeros’ southern shores, Walt was quick to seek intervention, for although he had no particular connection to the south, he was eager to fight a proper war, against proper foes instead of simply dealing with the almost inconsequential threat of wildling raids. Such an attitude was not mirrored in his father, who knew that marching south in the winter would mean starvation for many, and would lead to long term damage to farms and agriculture. But Errold Stark was neither a traitor nor a coward, and he began to marshall his forces, though the harsh winter gave him a much greater toleration for delay.

    A token force was sent south, under Lord Errold’s heir; Ser Cregan Stark, much to Walt’s chagrin. The Stark brothers did not share a close relationship, for Cregan had been warded in the south as a youth, and his fondness for the company of knights and squires had led to rumours of buggery. It was for this reason that Walt resolved not march south with his brother’s small band, but rather he awaited the muster of a greater force from the lands of Lord Umber and his good father at the Dreadfort for his chance for glory. A chance which would never come.

    Cregan Stark would return North in a coffin, and he did not return empty handed. The Targaryen cause had been defeated, and King Viserys III had been slain, alongside his second son at the Battle of the Milky Ford. The remnants of the Targaryen supporters were now scattered, with the King’s eldest son rallying support at Casterly Rock and his brother holding out at Riverrun under the protection of Lord Otto Tully. Such news only invigorated Walt’s resolve to march south, for now he had a brother to avenge, and the Targaryen boy needed all the support he could get. Once again Lord Errold acted on the side of caution. Lord Stark was a hard man and stiff at times, but he had loved his son, and in the face of adversity, his own aversion to grief seemed to be wavering. Hand of the King Prince Baelor Targaryen had sent word to the North that supporting his nephew’s plight was folly, and that the only thing that it would accomplish was more bloodshed. Lord Stark believed him.

    When King Viserys IV was crushed under the stone walls of Casterly Rock, there were no Starks present to save him. Instead, Lord Errold made himself busy welcoming a new King; Baelor II, whose words of caution had won him a crown and lost him a family. Breakoath, is what many in the North dubbed their new King, for his perceived treachery was not popular with the Northmen, and in turn he seemed to have no love for his new subjects.

    It was Walt’s mother who first spoke out against their new guests, who seemed insular and unwilling to cooperate in matters that did not concern war and the reclamation of the throne. She condemned Baelor as a traitor, and claimed that he was no worse than the usurper in the south, and that the North would be better off bending to the Blackfyre King, and surrendering the Red Dragon. Lord Stark would not hear of it. He was not fan of the new King, nor did he have any love for the south, but he had sworn an oath to the Targaryen dynasty, and he would not be negligent in his duties, a message that he would impart unto his son.

    As fate would have it, the North would not have to put up with King Baelor for long, for the man would see himself killed in an attempt to reclaim his throne, leaving behind a young son and little else. Walt was drawn to the boy, perhaps because of the lack of sons of his own, or perhaps because he felt sorry for the child who had lost his father, but the two grew close over time, and Aegon V Targaryen became known as a much more popular figure than his father.

    Of course, Walt did in fact have a son, for Domeric’s continued survival seemed a great abnormality in the Stark family. Lord Errold was old and infirm by this point, and paid little heed to his grandson, Walt was still convinced that the boy was not long for this world, and a mother’s love is lessened somewhat when she cannot speak.

    Errold Stark passed not long after King Baelor, for although he had been a strong and stalwart man in life, even the toughest of Northmen could not withstand the threat of age. It seemed queer to Walt that after his father had resisted the hold of the south for so long, he would die so peacefully, but he was determined to uphold his father’s legacy, burying the old man alongside Cregan in the crypts.

    Under Errold Stark, the primary strategy had been too hold out in hope of more loyalists rallying in the south, but Walt knew that this was unlikely to occur. Under his Lordship, the North became more rash in its approach, pushing into the Northern Riverlands as far as Oldstones. Of course, such conquests would be short lived, but the North gave back much more than it took, and new gains boosted the morale of many of the Riverlords who had followed the Targaryens into exile.

    The court at Winterfell had never been so vibrant, with the banners of many loyalist houses hanging from its walls. Whilst Lord Stark would loudly complain about hosting so many within his halls, deep down he had a love for such busyness, for it reminded him of the days of his youth surrounded by friends and companions.

    A great victory was achieved for the North when King Aegon slew the usurper's son: Crown Prince Maekar, however it was followed by great loss, when Domeric Stark defected to the southern cause. Perhaps had he paid more attention, Walt would have seen it coming, but he had grown so accustomed to ignoring the boy, that perhaps he truly did believe that he had died as an infant all those years ago. Stark’s don’t grieve, that was one wisdom that Errold Stark had not failed to impart before his passing, but the defection of his only son hit Lord Stark hard. If Domeric’s intention had been to garner his father’s attention, then he had succeeded for Walt looked back upon his failures as a father with great remorse. Domeric Stark had fled south, and in doing so he had stolen the legacy of House Stark.

    573604
 
Last edited:
big work in progress. also, i had a meltdown trying to resize images so those will be added asap.

  • FULL NAME: Vaella Blackfyre.
    TITLES:
    Princess.
    AGE:
    21, born in 280AC.
    MARITAL STATUS: Unwed.

    FAMILY
    See Blackfyre Family Tree.

    BIOGRAPHY
    The daughter of Daenys Targaryen and King Naemidon I Blackfyre, Vaella grew up in King’s Landing, spending her time learning how to be a lady, making friends at court, chasing cats, reading, and playing instruments. As such, she is knowledgeable and something of a social butterfly, but hasn’t properly experienced life beyond home. Particularly in her younger years, she was known for the way she fell ‘in love’ incredibly easy: knights, squires, cup bearers, and particularly, Gerion Lannister, after they were pushed to dance together one night. Her tastes in men have matured since then, or so she claims, but she’s still a hopeless romantic at heart.
    Despite her distant relationship with her father, Vaella has strived all her life to build a strong relationship with her brothers, and would like to say she succeeded for the most part. That being said, though she and her late brother Maekar were reasonably close, their differing interests led them on different paths. That, and she was always jealous of the way he was viewed as ‘golden’ by their father-- this jealousy was something she kept inside, and now he’s gone, she feels guilty for ever feeling that way.


    OTHER
    Has a little white cat named Viserys.
    Loves lemon cakes.

 

  • Name:
    Aerion Blackfyre

    Titles:
    Prince of the Iron Throne, Ser, The Young Prince, Prince of Flowers.

    Age:
    16, 286AC

    Marital Status:
    Single

    Family Tree:
    - See Blackfyre family tree

    Biography :
    Prince Aerion Blackfyre was born in the Red Keep during the year 285AC to his father, King Naemidion Blackfyre, and his mother, Queen Malora Hightower. At birth he was described as a rather quiet and well behaved babe and was said to be rather cute. However not even a few months after his birth it had slowly became clear that something was wrong with the babe. He would sleep very little and it felt like there was a constant crying coming from him. Queen Malora believed that some kind of illness had caused the drastic change in the child and soon after it appeared that she was correct. For the babe’s health deteriorated quickly, even to the point where it’s life may be called into question. Queen Malora believed that there was no help to be found in Kings Landing for her child and so made her leave of the city for Oldtown. In hopes that if she handed her child over to her family and the Maesters of the Citadel then they would be able to help.

    This was surely a stressful time for Queen Malora for she had to choose between staying with her newborn child or to return to her beloved husband in King's Landing. Well some would say it wasn’t much of a choice for Malora, as it seemed she was out of Oldtown as soon as possible. For a month or two it was unclear how the babe would turn out, at points it seemed as if a recovery was impossible for the child. But eventually the treatments from the Maesters managed to stabilize the babe’s health, albeit in a rather fragile state for the moment. The child would still cry out all through the night of course, especially without it’s mother now and for whatever reason any form of rest came as a rarity to this one. Upon hearing the news of her son’s condition Queen Malora felt it would be best if her son were to stay in Oldtown for a period of time. Although how long that period of time was, had been rather unclear.

    For the first few years of his life Aerion was a rather sickly and weak child. He spent most of his days either within the Hightower with his mother's family or in the Citadel with the maester’s. Even at this age, with his tired face and fatigued body. The Young Prince wore a warm and kind smile on his face, almost to say to those who looked after him “everything is fine.” As he grew older Aerion did gradually recover and by the time he was around the age of 5 he was finally allowed to journey out into the city of Oldtown under supervision. Despite being cooped up for his whole life up until that point, the young prince seemed to have a purity about him that drawed the people of Oldtown towards him naturally. He made his first friends there, the children and smallfolk of the city. It is said that the young prince loved the city of Oldtown, and the city loved him. Aerion seemed to have made an effort to visit the Starry Sept and the Seven Shrines as often as possible to talk with the Septons and other devout worshipers there. This was likely on request of Lord Hightower but the boy seemed genuinely interested enough on his own.

    His years in Oldtown did not last forever of course, although they are some of his fondest memories. But when it came to his 8th name day it was clear that the boy had grown into a healthy and energetic youth. At times the boy still looked tired but his refreshing smile seemed to ease any worries that may have been risen from that. Prince Aerion bid well to the people of Oldtown for the time being and made his way back to Kings Landing. Sure it was the place of his birth, but Oldtown was his home. Prince Aerion however did not show any signs of sadness of homesick however, if he even held any. For he met the people waiting in Kings Landing with the same warm smile that he had for those in Oldtown. And as with the people of Oldtown, the young prince walked among them and learned to love them too. As he did with all people.

    This period of Aerions life only lasted for a short while but he considers them to be very fond memories, but by the time of his 6th nameday it had been arranged for him to return to Kings Landing as at this point as it was clear that he had grown into a healthy and energetic youth. And so he bid farewell to the people of Oldtown and the Hightowers, although they were not his family he still loved them all dearly. However he did not show any signs of sadness due to this, there was no complaint or even a moment where he was phased. The young prince entered Kings Landing and greeted the people just as he did in Oldtown. With a warm smile for all. And just as he had with the people of Oldtown, the young prince learned to walk among the smallfolk and love them too. As he did with all people.

    This time spent in Kings Landing was like a dream to the young prince. The years where he spent his time with his beloved family. Blissfully unaware of the problems that the realm were dealing with at the present and the tragedy that would arise in the future. Even if his mother could be described as rather harsh, almost cruel. Prince Aerion did not seem to change at all. If anything his smile only grew brighter, full of more life and love than it had been before.

    During his time in Kings Landing, he would be arranged to visit Sunspear alongside family, the seat of House Martell who had been a friend at court for longer than the young prince had been alive. Filled with a genuine excitement and love for the world, Aerion was always eager for his visits to come around. He had always loved meeting and befriending new people and he always loved the Water Gardens there.

    Sometime in the year of his 12th nameday, Prince Aerion was sent to Lord Peake in the Reach, to squire under him. As his training to become a knight began it became rather obvious that the young prince was definitely not one who could be called a ‘warrior’ by any stretch of the word. He was a very peaceful and compassionate boy by nature and his aversion for swords was so great that it was more like he had a fear of the things. But it was not only that, to put it simply the young prince did not wish harm upon anything or anyone. Even if he was forced to sparr it looked as if the ordeal was paining him. By the looks of things Aerion was not made out to be a knight...

    That was, until he was put on horseback. Horse Riding had always been a hobby of the young prince but he was not particularly known for it. So it did come as a surprise when the prince displayed a rare natural talent for the thing. An ability even the greatest knights might be envious of. The timing, precision and movement all seemed to be perfect, like it was nothing more than instinct to him. And when a lance was placed in the young prince’s hand. They boy proved to be a sure-shot. They had found their knight. Although the young prince himself did not see it like that. What the others saw as training, Aerion saw as good fun. It is said that the young princes smile beams it’s brightest when he is atop a horse.

    The Prince would ride atop his horse at every free moment. He loved to spend time in the green fields of the Reach and to run along it’s streams and rivers. He would also continue practicing with his lance, his skill with it growing to the point where it was nothing more than an extent of his arm. All of this unknowingly prepared him for the year of his 15th nameday. Where a tournament of Oldtown was announced to the Lords and Ladies of the Reach. The young prince requested to make his way to Oldtown early, so that he may spend some time with the Hightowers as they prepared the festivities. Aerion was and always will be grateful for the time that he spent within their household and hold the members of the House in the highest regard, as close to a second family as one could have.

    And then the tourney came. The young prince welcomed the Lords and Ladies of the Reach alongside Lord Hightower. Prince Aerion was certainly well loved by the people of Oldtown and the noble families of the Reach, but he was not a favourite in this tournament, of course they wished him well but in their eyes he was a young boy. A delicate and harmless one at that. But that soon changed once the jousting began, and the young prince unhorsed one knight after the other. As the momentum of the young prince built he won the smallfolk and the nobles over to his side. And he did not disappoint them. For it did not feel like even a second passed before Prince Aerion found himself opposite of his final competitor. Which at the end of the day, after a well fought competition. Prince Aerion remained atop his horse. With his beautiful smile that he had become so known for. The prince did not smile for any sort of pride for martial prowess or for his victory. He had merely enjoyed his time. The smile of an innocent boy who had just spent the day playing with his loved ones.

    For this however, it was seen fit to knight the young prince in the Starry Sept for the excellent skill that he displayed. He thanked the Hightowers for being the most gracious of hosts and said farwells personally to the Lords and Ladies who had attended the tournament. From there the young prince rode home, to King's Landing, to spend time with his family once more. Whatever the future held in store for Aerion he did not seem to think on it. He merely rode forward as he always did, with the same beautiful smile and openness to the world.

    Other:
    - He has a deep love for nature, feeling most at home in the fields of the Reach but also sharing love for the Water Gardens of Dorne and the countryside of the Crownlands and Riverlands. Aerion would be eager to spend more time exploring the other regions if the state of the realm allowed him to.
    - Aerion has always had a difficult time with resting. And so at nights more often than not he can be found reading some books in the gardens.


    aerion 3.jpg


 
Last edited:


  • zwy6lgfrqeojlmi06ekw.jpg


    Name :

    Naemidon I Blackfyre


    Titles :

    His Grace

    Age :

    52 | Born 248 A.C.


    Marital Status :

    Married to Queen Daenys Targaryen, Queen Malora Hightower and Queen Eleyna Lannister

    Family Tree :

    Linked below.

    Biography :

    Before coming to Westeros, Naemidon would speak of only a few examples in Essos that helped develop him as a person. The first and arguably largest was Naemidon’s father himself, the self-titled King of Westeros, Daemon III Blackfyre. A man remembered more for his boisterous attitude and charismatic, carefree demeanor, Naemidon reflects on his father in a starkly different light. Formidable of mind and of arms, a near perfectionist in his own right, Daemon III Blackfyre was faced with the critical flaw of rage, expanded upon only by his vicious love of alcohol. Daemon Blackfyre’s pension for violence doubled with drink, and drink grew with each passing year. Naemidon and his younger brother (who bore the same name as their father) were safe from the brunt of the would-be King’s wrath for many years, their ages a shield. One that grew increasingly brittle.

    After Naemidon grew into his teen years and found himself on the battlefield, Daemon III’s scrutiny was upon him. At first, it was all too overjoyed to see the 14 year old “Prince” succeed in murdering his first Second-Son, or a Dothraki Screamer, trivial victories that Daemon III bragged about. With each contract, each battle, Daemon III’s expectations grew and Naemidon struggled to keep pace with his father’s aspirations. Eventually, by the age of 16, he failed, and then continued to fail, in the eyes of Daemon III, for the rest of his life. The relationship between father and son mutually soured - Naemidon did not wish to earn Daemon III’s love any further and began to publicly doubt him, to his lieutenants and highborn of the company equally. Likewise, Daemon III began to refer to Naemidon as “that miserable boy his mother raised”, casting aside any and all ownership of Naemidon.

    By Naemidon’s 18th name-day, Daemon IIII grew to a sufficient age to likewise take to the battlefield. And, unlike Naemidon, did not so easily disappoint Daemon III. A rift between siblings began to form as the “king” of the Golden Company proclaimed his new child to be a true prodigy - a true Blackfyre.

    Irregardless of how Daemon III felt towards his eldest born son, Naemidon was neither dimwitted nor weak hearted in battle, lacking only his father's wanton ruthlessness and replaced with a (manageable) salacious nature. When Naemidon was 20, only four others in the Golden Company commanded more respect and higher ranked than himself. Still, the divide between parent and child increased in friction the more Naemidon’s words held weight. Second guessing his plans for attack or potential contracts earned unequal ire in Daemon III. At a certain point, Naemidon was confident he confronted his father so frequently, he purposefully wanted to enrage the man.

    With high rank and status, albeit besmirched by his own father, Naemidon would go on to lead a handful of successful ventures in Essos divorced of his father’s overbearing presence. On the cusp of true independence, Naemidon made a defining mistake that changed the course of his life and fully severed any familial connection he held with Daemon III (and to a lesser extent, his uncle Daeron Blackfyre, the “King’s” right hand). In the Disputed Lands, a fraction of the Golden Company’s forces were met with a coalition fighting force made up of several Free Companies, the reasons for their battle inconsequential to all those willing to die that day. Predictably, Naemidon’s forces won out and routed the opposing side. As was custom, many were taken hostages, either to be sold back to families or free companies, or for affairs that no man of the Golden Company publicly admitted to.

    Naemidon himself was not devoid of some of these actions. A striking figure caught his attention, first via rumors, and then by action. A commander of one of the coalition forces, a woman known as “Blackeye” Zahrina. Her forces modest but her temper ill and wrathful, Naemidon soon had the woman presented to himself. True to his nature in later years, he fell for her quickly, keeping Blackeye by his side for the following months as he presumed they bonded over mutual interests and Naemidon’s “good will” to neither rape nor enslave the woman, but treat her as a guest and potential wife. And in Zahrina, he confided his woes, he revealed secrets of the company and himself, believing her to be his equal in every opinion and share his feelings.

    This naivety led Naemidon to his greatest failure, as on the dawn before another battle between Free Companies, Zahrina weighed the scales and deemed them close enough in her favor to act. Taking leave of the camp in the early morning hours before the battle, Zahrina rode to the Free Companies opposing the Golden Company and revealed each and every secret, for a price and safety. So broken up by the departure of a woman he thought loved him as he did her, Naemidon was ill prepared to lead his men and not of mind to devise a plan to counteract any intelligence that Zahrina may have given their enemies. Defeat, and not any close defeat, followed. Naemidon survived but a handful of the older generation of lieutenants were far from fortunate. It robbed the Golden Company of prestige and experience, causing this division to crawl back to Daemon III and lick its wounds.

    Humiliation and punishment was how Daemon III sorted out the mess his child (though, long ago he stopped referring to Naemidon as such) had made. Enraged, not quite drunk but not distant from this objective, “King” Daemon III had Naemidon beaten for the losses he sustained, and then personally belted the boy with unexpected eagerness for the cause of their defeat. The upper echelons of the company bore witness to the brutality and Daemon III declared it fitting punishment for the loss of old friends and, hopefully, the “youthful ignorance” that embodied Naemidon. Physically lashing out on Naemidon must’ve brought an unseen joy to the black heart of “King” Daemon III, for the next six years (until Daemon’s demise), Naemidon’s failures would receive similar, though lesser, treatments. Not always public, though those private proved worse.

    Under his father’s cruelty and the betrayal of Blackeye Zahrina, Naemidon found solace in one other person. The second figure that shaped his worldview, Daena Blackfyre. Daughter to his uncle, Daeron Blackfyre and of a Strickland girl, Daena and Naemidon gravitated towards one another in their young adult years. Naemidon’s own idealistic nature and bitter doubts over the increasingly unstable Daemon III, and Daena’s tolerant demeanor for Naemidon yet convictions stronger than the Black Walls of Volantis, propelled them into a swift romance. No doubt Naemidon’s own weakness for the fairer sex helped the king fall in love further and harder than any rational man should have. When Naemidon was 25 and Daena 23, they wed under the reluctant consent of Daeron Blackfyre and Calla Strickland. For a time, Naemidon felt his existence permeate beyond the Golden Company, his younger brother’s growing fame, or his father’s intolerable rage. Daena grew pregnant, their first and only child together born in the salty air of Slaver’s Bay, bringing Naemidon more joy than any previous victory could hope to.

    Busying himself with the task of being a parent - knowing that he could never succumb to his father’s own failings - was made substantially harder when a grand meeting of the Golden Company was held. Not only all key officers were involved, but foreign officials such as the bank of Rogare and noblemen of Volantis, a Pentoshi cheese merchant and the Corsairs King himself. Allies that Daemon III had cultivated over the years, the now aging King declared a new war - a final war. They would bolster their forces, hire more mercenaries to join them, engage other pirate lord’s and intrepid merchants. Already, spies were colluding with potential friends in Westeros, the king declared. House Blackfyre and its vassals would no longer reside in bitter banishment. Safer contracts would be adopted to minimize the loss of life for the company as well. Pacts in blood were made, and Naemidon’s priorities were shifted for him.

    Although the invasion wasn’t for another half decade, “King” Daemon III was not to allow his sons any rest. Daemon IIII was given a prestigious command alongside Mervyn of House Costayne, entrusting both youths with the continual business of the Company as Naemidon and Daemon III were representing the Company abroad. The reception to work with his father so closely was mixed, Naemidon assumed it was to present his heir apparent and build faith in future allies, but he never publicly inquired. Years spent together brought both men into quick battles, horrible words exchanged between kin and tension ever rising. Naemidon felt disheartened he was missing his son so often, yet “King” Daemon III pushed forward. Meeting with more foreign prince’s, warlords, and pirates. And he drank more. And talked more. Burning the ashes of the bridge that once connected father and child.

    Until, one Autumn evening, Daemon III passed from this world. Naemidon claimed ignorance of his passing until it was brought to him by the “King’s” squire, Daemon III having choked on his own vomit after drinking profusely. Naemidon mourned him, but not greatly, and pressed home to meet with his mother, uncle, and wife. His father’s skull was added to the growing collection of past leaders who never set their royal arse on the Iron Throne, now little more than a banner to their cause, and Naemidon pressed forward. The burning desire to give his son and wife the life he felt best fit them - as monarchs of their ancestral homeland - radiated throughout his being. His own parents empty eyes doubling his resolve to have his line break this banished, bastard tradition.

    And so, in 280 A.C. when Winter was reaching its climax, the Golden Company alongside several allied Free Companies and the Corsairs King landed in the Stormlands. The fighting was brief, with Lord Baratheon more eager to live and fight than die in a pointless struggle, they marched for King’s Landing. Two more battles were held, where the Targaryen Forces were ultimately defeated, not by superior military might, but internal squabbling and a treacherous squire. Only the North and the surviving Targaryen Uncle remained, but the now King Naemidon Blackfyre turned his attention on governance.

    Adopting several wives - only to the rage of his true love - Naemidon sired many children, none of whom he loved half as much as Maekar. A tender boy, but one that Naemidon was insistent upon needed to show off the black dragon’s fiercest fire in order to survive in this world. A relationship between them came easy, natural, as Naemidon groomed him for succession. The Six Kingdoms he ruled over were in disarray, the advisors he often found himself surrounded by less than ideal for the job, which ultimately robbed Naemidon of the same opportunities he had with Maekar for his later born children. It would be a regret he silently brooded over for the many years to come.

    Naemidon found himself quickly exhausted by the Northern campaign once it became apparent that the North would not, in fact, buckle under external pressures. With the rise of a new Lord Stark, it signaled the true start of the Northern Wars. While Naemidon Blackfyre secured the loyalties of several key lords in the south, Daemon IIII Blackfyre marched North. Battling further into the Neck than any previous man before, Daemon IIII Blackfyre was said to have spotted the ancestral, moving castle of House Reed, ultimately unable to siege it before being forced from the marshlands and pushed back towards the Twins. In this retreat came pursuit, and Daemon IIII Blackfyre was assassinated one night by the natives of the marshlands.

    Other campaigns - nearly yearly - continued with the Golden Company at the helm. Naemidon began to court the other ladies of the Seven Kingdoms and turn them into his wives when he heard of a close call with his prized fighting force. Immediately, Naemidon recalled them, and began to plot. Losing the Golden Company would be a blight on his standings, so he decided to let the Lords of Westeros fight for him. Awarding lands and keeps to the Southerners, he inspired them to launch their own united fronts on the North, without having to directly participate in the bloodshed. Satisfied, for the time at the very least, Naemidon had tightened his hold on Westeros and had many of his prisoners placed on the God’s Eye, where an elaborate fortress was being built at breakneck speeds to house all those who opposed him.

    Ten years into Naemidon’s reign, the first great tragedy would take place. Tension between the High Septon and Naemidon Blackfyre grew with each wife and each child. Some hoped that the King would relinquish some, banishing them to forgotten isles and make peace with the faith. Naemidon squashed these rumors soundly, almost flaunting the attractive and powerful women he now held together. The High Septon, in a fervor, took poorly to the king’s ways. The Tournament of the Hand’s Birthday used to be an extravagant affair, when Naemidon held it each year. The rewards were generous and the opportunity to be noticed and taken in by a great lord was high. The fourth day, just as the finalists were being chosen for the evenings’ last tilts, did the High Septon launch his attack.

    Queen Daena Blackfyre was retiring to the Red Keep, tired and eager for some rest with her handmaidens. As their litters turned curiously, Daena grew suspicious. For from the fields of King’s Landing to the Red Keep was a trip she knew well. It is said that Daena Blackfyre attempted to bolt from the litter as she suspected foul play, but a man masquerading as a palace guard - some assume he and the others were genuine, though turned in favor of a pious afterlife - grabbed her roughly before the queen could flee. Others, traitors and cowards, acted openly in a ditch effort to kidnap the queen and her retinue safely. Queen Daena struggled and broke free, nearly escaping her would-be attackers. Her throat was cut before the woman noticed.

    That marked the High Septon’s attempted coup, where the faithful rose up and stormed the streets, trying to cut the king from the safety of his palace. Brave knights of the tourney and the Order of Bittersteel kept the nobility safe for long enough until proper reinforcements from nearby Houses stormed into the city, putting to death the faithful. It wasn’t until after the bodies were drained of blood did Naemidon learn of his beloved wife’s passing. Her funeral was said to be the most elaborate any queen received - costing the Realm half a kingdom to bid Daena Blackfyre farewell.

    For years, Naemidon balanced the realm, with the partial help of his Small Council. Neglecting his children too often for his own liking, but unable to completely trust the turncoats who aided him in the conquest, Naemidon was powerless to do much else. Responsibilities began piling on the growing Maekar, first to appear at court on days when Naemidon had to handle matters of greater importance, than being named an honorary member of the Small Council. Eventually - at the behest of an assembly of River-Lords, Naemidon demanded that Maekar lead a campaign North, to retake the Twins and set fire to the swamplands.

    Maekar, a smart and capable man, was neither experienced in warfare the same way the aging leader of the Golden Company was, nor did Maekar have his father’s gifts for combat. Yet, Maekar complied. A several week-siege on the Twins resulted in the prince being pushed back to Seagard, where he bolstered his forces, only to be met with the Red Dragon. The Red Dragon and Doom.

    News of Maekar’s demise shook the court. Naemidon refused to appear for days on end, and when he did, most wish he returned to private grieving. His hard eyes were watery and his temperment erratic. It was during these dark, first days after Maekar’s passing that something inside the king snapped. If his precious heir, perfect in all ways, was unable to meet Naemidon’s standards… What chance did the rest of the children have?

    Boldly, Naemidon issued the proclamation and his conditions for successor - finding Arlan Blackfyre lacking severely, though he would give the youth a chance to change his fathers mind. They all would receive this opportunity.

    Other :

    In his youth, Naemidon enjoyed horse racing and riding in general. The open fields were ideal for this type of entertainment, often his loyal friends and future wife would join him. Likewise, jousting was a sport Naemidon took part in, both as an observer and participant. In his later 20’s, Naemidon grew to appreciate aspects of philosophy as he studied history. Forced away from the free life style of a young man, discussing history over wine or ale became a newer hobby of his.


 
Last edited:
Appearance :

5b2057e1e85d457ee2e38ba6fa8be2ba (2).jpg

Name :

Jon Forrester

Titles :

Lord of Ironrath, Protector of the Ironwood Groves

Age :

Jonis a man of 29, with his first name day happening in the year 271 After Conquest.

Marital Status :

Married

Family Tree :

Screenshot_2019-05-10-18-36-13.png

Biography :

Jon was born the second son of Ormond Forrester, a loyal bannerman to Erold Stark, and a man of very similar demeanor. The young Forrester unfortunately took his mother upon his birth, hardening Ormond further. Jon was lucky enough to be spared of most of his father's abuse, with his brother Hareth being unfortunate enough to be the heir. Ormond had great expectations of Hareth. He would serve House Stark, he would marry a Lady, and most of all, he would bring pride to House Forrester. Hareth wanted none of these things. Unonown to all but Jon, Hareth...preferred the company of men. Jon, being the loyal person he was, kept this from their father, and would always cover for his beloved brother. That changed after a retainer caught Hareth with a stable boy. Ormond was beyond furious. He had the poor boy gelded, and Hareth hung himself the next week in his depression. Suddenly, Jon was the heir to Ironrath, and his father was even harder on the lad. Jon grew to despise the man, feeling no grief or loneliness when the bastard died fighting the Blackfyre's. Once he was a man of sixteen, he set about sealing the Forrester's in the realm. While he hated his father, he did intend to further his House on his own terms. He soon married, and at eighteen, his wife gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. Jon recently began to sell ironwood to the various House's on a larger scale than his father, though he intends to make sure the Forrester's remain the sole providers of their iconic resource. He and his wife are also expecting their third child soon, who Jon hopes to name after his late brother.

Other :

Many believe that Jon had his father killed out of revenge, or even power. Whether or not he did it is unknown, but he did arrive to the man's funeral late, at all, and contemplated refusing to have him cremated, much like what Ormond did when Hareth died. Jon is also an avid hunter, though he despises relying on hounds, and usually does it on his own.
 
Last edited:


  • Appearance :

    573739

    Name :
    Robert Reyne

    Titles :
    Ser
    Lord of Castamere
    ‘The Red Lion’

    Age :
    Twenty and four, 276AC


    Marital Status :
    Single/Widowed

    Family Tree :

    573740

    Biography :
    Robert was born the eldest son of Roger Reyne, Lord of Castamere, and not so loyal bannerman of House Lannister of Lannisport. Growing up as his father’s heir, he was kept close to his father’s side, learning most of what he now knows from him, and having his very personality and demeanour shaped by his father, ambitious, calculating, and stoically reserved with his emotions, he is the very embodiment of his father, both in emotions and physically. For a long time House Reyne had been loyal bannermen of House Lannister, that is not to say that they were not ambitious mind you. The gold and silver mines of Castamere were rich in minerals and were famed in the Westerlands, long thought to be second only to the mines of Casterly Rock. The coming of the Blackfyres and their final rebellion provided House Reyne the chain of events that they had long been waiting for, the slipping of House Lannister from power. The war went badly for the Targaryens and their supporters, including the Lannisters, reaching the point where they were forced to fall back to Casterly Rock. Lord Roger had seen the way the wind was blowing in the early days of the rebellion, yet his advice to abandon the Targaryen cause fell upon deaf ears, seeing this as a scorn by his liege lord, and one that could result in the fall of his own house. As a result, when the triumphant Blackfyres marched upon Casterly Rock, Kind Naemidon bringing his full wrath against the West, Lannister calls to arms fell upon equally deaf ears, the forces of Castamere remained at home. Sealing the passes to any banners heading the Lannister call from the northern Westerland houses. As such whilst House Lannister of Casterly Rock was wiped out, crushed beneath the ruins of their once formidable home, the Red Lions of Castamere remained, whole and undefeated. Of course, their attempt to claim the Westerlands was not to be at this time, Lord Roger was injured in a hunting accident, the wound infected, and he fell into a coma near death. Under the watchful eye of his Maester, he made a slow but gradual recovery, but it was too later. The Lannisters of Lannisport chose the moment to strike, claiming Lordship of the Westerlands from under Roger’s nose. Roger made his sons swear, that if he was unable to, Robert or Alyn would claim what should have been theirs, Lordship of all the Westerlands.

    As such Robert has grown up with this singular ambition and thought drummed into him, that the Westerlands are as good as his birthright. Most of his childhood has been geared towards this singular purpose, and as such whilst he has emerged a deadly swordsman, and a great battlefield commander, his social skills are somewhat lacking, coming across as blunt and direct to the point of being rude, especially to those unfamiliar with his particular personality traits. This was part of the reason that one of his father’s final acts before his death was arranging the marriage between Roger and Lanna Crakehall, giving them an ally to rely on in the Westerlands. Less than a year after the match Lord Robert passed from this world and into the arms of The Mother, a bout of pneumonia felling the man who would have been Lord of the West. For 4 years Roger has ruled as Lord of Castamere, attempting to curry favour with the Blackfyre Kind, putting his martial skills to use in his campaigns against the pretenders and their Stark allies. However 6 months ago a personal tragedy struck. For 3 and a half years him and Lanna had been trying for a child, but to no avail, despite advice from Maesters and Septons alike. Finally however, she had grown heavy with child, truly a blessing from the gods, apparently the news brought a smile even to the brooding young Lord Castamere’s face. It was not to be however. As the date of the birth grew nearer it soon became clear that something was wrong, the child could no longer be felt or heard to be moving, and Lanna became weaker by the day, growing pale and wasting before Roger’s very eyes. It may have originally been a political marriage, but their affection for each other had grown, especially since her pregnancy had begun. One night Roger awoke to a most grizzly and heart wrenching scene; blood, so much blood, the pure white sheets dyed a most brilliant crimson, much like the Lion that adorned the banners upon the walls of Castamere. Lanna was dead, a haemorrhage in the night, both her, and his as of yet unborn son were lost. His anguished howls, like a speared bull awoke the guards, who first believed that there had been some sort of attempt on the Lord and Lady’s life when confronted by the scene. He allowed himself a month to mourn, near shut up in his keep in isolation, that was all he gave himself however, despite his love for Lanna, his duty, the promise he had made to his father came first. There was still an heir in place, his younger brother Alyn, only 9 years old, but still a male heir.

    A new wife would have to be found, not only to cement House Reyne’s succession, but also to bring another ally to the table for the inevitable struggle for the Westerlands. Already in his 4 years of rule whilst not starting outright rebellion, his aims are very much known, to take the Westerlands from these lesser Lions who cavort as their more glorious, and now dead, cousins, through marriage, might and money he plans to strike soon, perhaps another Westerland hand in marriage, or further afield, the Lady of the Vale is unmarried and young, whilst such a match would be difficult, the power that it would create would be one to behold, or if not a more formalised tie to House Blackfyre would surely grant both prestige and power within the realm. Soon the die will be cast, and the Red Lion will come down from his lair, and the Bronze Lion shall tremble before him.

    Other :
    • Robert is a keen hunter, if he is to be found away from Castamere he is most likely riding in the nearby woods and foothills with his retinue, few boars or deer are safe from his bow or spear from the saddle.
    • Robert has quite spartan tastes, though by no means dressing in the simple clothing of the peasantry, he generally forsakes wearing jewellery or other trinkets, preferring more simply coloured clothing, the only decorations being the heraldry of House Reyne.
    • He is also a skilled warrior, both on and off the saddle, and most recently proved himself in the campaign against the Targaryens, even if the loss of Prince Maekar in the final stages of the campaign left the realm reeling.
    And who are you, the proud lord said,
    that I must bow so low?
    Only a cat of a different coat,
    that’s all the truth I know.
    In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
    a lion still has claws,
    And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
    as long and sharp as yours.

 
Last edited:
  • l7TQzf8Mc0QjAx34yZ1lqZyh1l-FRHhVz0MekYhClkQSFXFNfz5Vjif_mtdngCVAgbg_GT4QnoJZqHfzzH3pLA5PZ1p8DRtKAwePTiGcJ4zZD87cc6Yr6wM6HNJtqpqrRm9X_fRx
    Name: Quentyn Allyrion
    Titles: Lord of Godsgrace, the Desserts Snake
    Age: 30, 270 AC
    Marital Status: Married to Arianne Allyrion née Uller
    Biography:
    Quentyn had been an only child for most of his early life. He was spoiled with good teachers and excellent master-at-arms who trained him. All his parents attention was focused on him. However, when he was 10 years old he got a little brother, Doran. Since then it went downhill. All his parents attention was focused on the little boy. It was like his parents didn’t even noticed him anymore. When he was 12 he ran away from home. A caravan of Traders passed the Godsgrace and the young Quentyn followed them to Sunspear. According to his parents they noticed it right away that Quentyn was gone, but the son of the stable master told him that it took a few days before they went searching for him.
    All of this made Quentyn very independent. When he went with his Father on visits to other Houses he met the beautiful young Lady Arianne Uller and he began to court her. When he reached the age of seventeen both their parents saw it as a good deal that they married. Arianne and Quentyn married in a beautiful ceremony. Together with Arianne he got six children, between the ages of zero and twelve. A few years ago his father passed away so Quentyn became Lord of Godsgrace.
    Other: Quentyn is called the Desserts snake because of his stingy fightings style and his ability to surprise everyone


 
Last edited:
HpR_8FXojt9MFMs1Qu8x0YK6B8dwnpEWjp38aKoHjWf6Fq9qKI9_4XQab01ftZUgnTe7sAHB0_D9mKU9nz6lTNAakOYPVqkxdJFH5UDoLKHx5PyKjondR3ap0I1yiq1QUhOyW0Tx

King Aegon V Targaryen


Alias: Princeslayer, The Freezing Dragon
Titles: King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm
Age: 375 AC
Born: 25
Marital Status: N/A


8gTVmSsfzOFMH2HLgNcvjHAgqSvLUD0C1RJS1f1Gu-rPiYK28geLZTmEZH0krXdCE9tD41N1bjRawr0pdMamryAcQnHnPEEhzhZhXyHX_OugkUtI00cYv8cEyTVVRRLLV9GkKw-E

Biography: Aegon was born in the capital city of King’s Landing to the Hand of the King, Baelor Targaryen, younger brother of his grace King Viserys III Targaryen and Lady Cerelle Lannister, scion of the Warden of the West. At the time of his birth, he was merely fourth in line to the throne if you discounted the claim of Princess Daenys. A number that was only expected to grow as the royal Prince’s married and produced children. It was a difficult birth, one that took its toll on the Lady Cerelle and one that forced his father to temporarily abandon his duties as Hand in order to focus on the safety of his family. A decision many think cost the House dearly, a decision that allowed treasonous whispers to flourish without firm direction, a decision that may have led to the fall of a dynasty.

They were relatively peaceful years however, King Viserys reforms were most unwelcome, but there was no hint that the family that had ruled for three hundred years was about to be pushed from their pedestal. Many a Blackfyre invasion had been beaten back with minimal effort, only the first ever posing a true threat to the realm, why would another potential failed landing from a glorified mercenary company be any different? There were warnings, signs and other omens of a potential attack in the coming years, but why worry? A united realm would never be toppled and why would Lords risk their neck for a cause most assumed was dead? Thus for the first five years of his life, Aegon lived like any royal, well looked after in the Red Keep with nothing to threaten him or any unforeseen danger.

The Usurpers invasion changed that. The news swept across the capital quickly, a landing had been made at Storm’s End, the Small Council was in session for hours and a command had been sent. Lord Baratheon was to make a stand in the field and beat them back to the sea. Meanwhile contingency plans were made and the banners were called, but with winter set in, support from the North and the Vale would be all but useless. For many a tense day, news and rumours flew about like wildfire, until finally a messenger arrived in the Tower of the Hand. Lord Baratheon had joined the enemy. Panic ensued, soldiers ordered to exhaust themselves to arrive at the capital, defensive lines set up. The King was often missing for days in the build up to the battle, his health taking a sharp dive as he contemplated the failures of his own father.

Aegon could remember as a very small child, looking out from a balcony of the Red Keep, seeing the crowned stag and the black dragon that would come to define his life. But he would also never forget seeing those banners forced from the city, the cheers and bells that rang around the capital for nights on end. A victory had been won, but the cost was dear. The Crowlander forces were depleted, the Riverlords now formed the backbone of the royal army, what was to be done against the combined forces of the Stormlands, the Golden Company and as would soon be evident, Dorne? Regardless of the wisdom, King Viserys, with his Hand, knew that if confidence in the crown wavered anymore it would all be over, so they marched forward. His father visited him once before the march, leaving him and his mother, who had taken to drinking due to stress.

The battle did not end well. What remained of the royal force fell back to the capital as a ragged horde rather than an organised army. They would not stay long. His father collected him and his mother, the Red Keep being abandoned as they fled to what would later be known as the Milky Ford where Lord Tully had gathered all he could. Lady Cerelle, her child in toe, was sent to Riverrun for safety. They only knew what was to be next when the Lord Hand, covered in blood from head to toe, stormed into the castle with Lord Tully, mud dripping from his boots as shouts and orders flew left and right. The next thing Aegon knew, he was in a carriage making its way north at startling speed.

It was around age ten, after years of confined solitude in the North, his father insisting that he not be overtaken by Northern influence, that said father fell in battle. He was too young to understand why his mother grew to despise the man, he barely understood why he held the title King and what that even meant, death meant little to him. When he saw his father's body, riddled with arrows, the magnitude finally hit him. Seeing death in a finite way, a lifeless body, unable to speak, express itself, proclaim love. The funeral was a short affair, the then newly minted Lord Hand Roderick Blackwood leading the procession, the Starks in toe, before Baelor was buried. No one shed a tear. Not even his mother. He cried himself to sleep that very same night. From that point on, on the insistence of the Lord Hand and of his mother, Aegon was introduced to the realm he was now King of. He stood in front of the Northern Lords and the southern Lords in exile and was proclaimed as Aegon Targaryen, the Fifth of his name. Lord Stark being confirmed as Lord Regent until he came of age. From that point on, many things changed, and his eyes were slowly opened for the first time. This wasn’t some vacation, some minor altercation, this was a war of life and death.

It quickly became evident during Aegon’s education that he struggled to both read and write, the words muddling in his head. The Maester of Winterfell knew of the condition but insisted he continue, he struggled until he became somewhat competent. His writing is messy, however, and his reading skills are less than satisfactory. He instead prefers to allow the Maester or the Hand to compose and read his letters, unless confidential. He did rather well in a different field. Warfare. Strategy and the sword did not require words on a page to understand when years of war had been playing out in front of his eyes. His training with a sword began swiftly, and he quickly grew skilled at it.

For fifteen years he has remained in the North, for fifteen years the constant campaigns continued. His mother remarried, he officially took his crown, though in a metaphorical sense since he wears none and he has finally grown into a man, maybe even a King to some. Now he stands, two months after victorious battle where the biggest blow the south was struck by the Northern forces since the war began, their Prince and heir falling to Aegon’s own sword. The future is unknown, but there is hope, hope that things might finally change.
 
574697

Name: Jocelyn Forrester nee Sunderland
Titles: Lady of Ironrath
Age: twenty-nine, year 271
Marital Status: Wed to Jon Forrester
Biography: Born the fourth and only daughter of Ormund Sisterton, grew accustomed to quieting the constant squabbling of her older brothers and is thus even now considered a sort of peacemaker amongst her siblings. A dutiful mother and wife in marriage, she now dwells much further North then in her childhood.
 

  • Redwyne.jpg
    Name: Olyvar Redwyne

    Titles: Lord of the Arbour, Lord Redwyne, Serenader of Storms.

    Age: 23, born 277AC.

    Marital Status: Single (though, that's up in the air)

    Family Tree:

    576189

    Biography:
    Olyvar was born as the second son to Alester Redwyne, and the first and only child to Alesa Peake. There was five years between him and the eldest son and half-brother, Rufus, and a mere three years after his half-sister, Brea. Both were left without a mother after a year after Brea's birth, suffering from an illness not even their Maester could seem to cure. Though he mourned for his first wife, he found advantage in marrying a member of another prestigious House within the Reach, and married Alesa Peake a year later. Naturally, Alester's new wife found herself pregnant two months into their marriage.

    Though there was much joy for a second son, Olyvar was to be nothing like the first. He never possessed the ‘good genes’ that were so prominent in Rufus and even Brea, rather, the younger brother getting the 'hand-me-downs'. Though Olyvar sported the famous red hair of the Redwynes, he had been cursed with greasy, flat hair, crooked teeth (where he earned the cruel and famous nickname ‘Scraggle-Tooth’) and was so skinny, that noble clothing practically draped on him, like the robes of their Maester. Olyvar was the subject of vicious mockeries and piteous stares, where his brother was regarded as a blessed and beautiful boy, even before he had reached his teens.

    Of course, such taunts and the gap of difference between him and Rufus affected the youngest Redwyne. He found it difficult to make friends, considering children of his age were all laughing at the comments on his appearance. He was a solitary creature, who climbed trees and ran through the Arbour on his lonesome, and returned home, often feeling more alone with the attention that was being showered on Rufus by his father. He was the heir, after all, the most important one. Olyvar was just a backup in the incredibly rare case his brother died young without an heir. Naturally, his mother doted on Olyvar as her son, and it wasn't as if his half-siblings bore ill-will against him, but Olyvar was always to be the Black Sheep of the family.

    Olyvar doesn’t remember much of the Blackfyre Rebellion, but he does remember how Dorne became so much more vicious, played with several of the less prominent houses of the region like a cat dangling mice into its ugly mouth. Whilst several houses rose with high rewards with the Dornish backstabbing method, houses like Redwyne fell behind. Apparently having members of such prominent families wasn't enough to make Dorne back off. Olyvar, as he grew into his teens, noticed a change within his father. Alester's hair had faded, the bags under his eyes getting darker and dragging them further down his face. He would later learn this was a result of stress of Dorne’s increasing cockiness, practically bullying and shoving Redwyne out of money and influence. Eventually, the stress took its toll, and Lord Redwyne dropped dead as a result when Olyvar had just turned fifteen, an event that left him disturbed.

    Of course, this meant Rufus, at twenty, took the title of Lord Redwyne. Within the two years of taking the title, Rufus married Cyrenna of House Tarly. Olyvar feared the worst with Rufus as the new Lord as he was practically imagining the wolfish grins and hand rubbing coming from the Dornishmen across the water at a new Redwyne to torture.

    Whilst his brother had to take on the responsibilities as Lord, Olyvar opted to make something out of himself. He took an interest in the military workings the Redwynes had been known for bar their exquisite wine making; their expansive set of military fleets. He learned all that he could from the Commander and the crews; the productions, their use in naval battles, everything. With Rufus learning how to be a Lord, to manage the Arbour, to act the high and mighty noble, Olyvar was the one who would learn to get his hands dirty, to work and man the ships, learning how to fight alongside other men, and command them. He had gone on several expeditions himself - whether it was on the trading ships, or with the fighters along the Straits - and came to loathe returning home after being away on the sea. Olyvar had found his place. Somewhere that people didn't pity or laugh at the late Lord Gormon Redwyne's son. He earned something his brother didn't, something much more rewarding to him. A sense of community amongst the common men. Everything seemed to be working out for the youngest Redwyne.

    That was, until his brother, Rufus, left for business across the water, when Olyvar was twenty one. Little did he realise, it would be the last time he ever spoke to him, or saw him alive, for that matter. The Reach was growing tired of the Blackfyre rule, that much was true. They resented the Dornish’s hold over them, the bullying, all for their own gain and influence. It wasn’t unusual that there were unsettled Reachmen who acted out sometimes. Only, what broke out between a group of Dornishmen and Reachmen was full scale violence. It turned from fisticuffs to a full-scale riot. It was difficult to contain. However it ended up, Rufus had gotten caught up in the middle of it. By the time it was quelled, they found a Lord Redwyne on the ground, with multiple stab wounds, struggling to breathe. Despite getting him to a healer, there wasn’t any hope for him or his injuries. It was disregarded as a murder, but rather an accident, a tragedy.

    Olyvar became Lord Redwyne as Rufus and Cyrenna’s marriage brought no heirs, despite constant efforts. Olyvar didn’t care what his brother’s death was classed as. As far as he knew, that was more Redwyne blood on Dornish hands. As the new Lord Redwyn lost patience and grew bitter towards Dorne, so did the rest of the Arbour. His mother, still stands behind him, supportive, but wary of the fractures Olyvar could cause between the more prominent houses connected with House Redwyne with his thirst for vengeance. Now Lord of the Arbour with men and fleets ready to fight for him, a potential betrothal to Cyrenna brewing, and the Reach coming to a boiling point, the Redwynes may no longer be known for spilling simply red wine anymore.

    Other:

    • Ironically, Olyvar hates Arbor's wide selection of wines. Even the very scent of it turns his stomach.
    • He owns and plays the lute, and is also something of a singer. Whether or not he's a good singer is debatable, but he's an expert at playing the lute.


 
Last edited:
House Waynwood
545px-House_Waynwood.svg.png


  • tumblr_n7hlmpUhh81s9i8beo1_250.gif


    5'11''

    Titles:
    Ser, Knight of IronOaks, Knight of the Vale.

    Age:
    24, born in 276 AC

    Marital Status:
    Married to Lilana Waynwood.

    Family Tree:
    586679

    Biography:
    Since childhood, Conrad’s mother had been claiming he was a Blackfyre to anyone who would listen. Of course, seeing as she was an insane prostitute with frequent delusions about the many men she’s had, no one really believed her. Not even her son, who could’ve been anyone’s child really. Even if it were true, he would still be a bastard and have as little claim as dirt. Most of Conrad Stone’s childhood was spent taking care of his sickly, insane mother. She died when he was 10.

    Conrad Stone lived on his own since then. Made a small little ‘home’ for himself in Snakewood where he hunted rodents and all that. He eventually joined a small mercenary group that called themselves ‘The Black Woodsman’ for protection. That was where the first learned to fight. To string a bow. To wield a sword. To ride. His days were spent were spent selling his skills for food.

    So how did he become Ser Conrad Stone, Knight of Iron Oaks and the Vale?

    Funny story. It started with saving 8-year-old Lilana Waynwood from a group of bandits and taking the little lady back to her home in IronOaks all for the price of her favorite rock. Her parents gave him a better reward. Incredibly grateful for their only daughter’s safe return, Lord Elstan Waynwood titled him ‘Knight of IronOaks’, protector of their house, and promised him that he would always find a place their home. Course, being a sellsword, all the meaning was lost on Conrad who only wanted the money.

    He thought that would be the last he’d see of a Waynwood. However, fate had other plans. Or, rather, Lilana did. The number of times he’d ended saving her from her own recklessness mirrored the number of stones she had in her collection. A lot. As a result, he ended up developing a close relationship the family, mainly Lilana’s elder brother, Ser Nickolas Waynwood, Knight of the Vale aka the Jeweled Knight. They often fought together. Conrad protected Nickolas, heir to House Waynwood of IronOaks , at Lord Elstan’s request. Defending the Vale. Defending House Arryn. Tristan’s duties became his such that he became officially recognized as a Knight of the Vale by House Arryn at 20. The ceremony itself was a dull affair , but one necessary in gaining the respect of his fellow knights.

    At some point, he and Nickolas became sworn brothers. Vows were made. Conrad became engaged to Lilana. House Waynwood was in good shape…at least until Ser Nickolas died in King’s Landing with Lord Arryn ( Mion Mion ), wifeless and childless. Therefore the duty of continuing the family line fell on Lilana and Conrad. Their marriage was hastened out of necessity. As Elstan’s son in law, Conrad’s children (hopefully sons) would become the next heirs to IronOak. Unless, of course, Lady Waynwood manages somehow produce another son given her age (which is entirely possible with a bit of luck). Or Elstan marries again. Or Elstan dies before Lilana could produce children and he can name them his heirs. Lilana’s uncle, after all, has nearly as much claim to IronOaks as she does…moreso since he still carries the name Waynwood.
 
Last edited:
image3.jpg
FULL NAME: Dyanna Martell.
TITLES: Lady, Handmaiden to Princess Vaella.
AGE:
23, born in 277AC.
MARITAL STATUS: Unwed.

FAMILY
See Martell Family Tree.

BIOGRAPHY
WIP

OTHER
Particularly... promiscuous.
By far the least intelligent of her family.
 
Appearance :
yeert.jpg

Name: Abbigail Lannister
Titles: Lady

Age: 20. June 5, 280 ac


Marital Status: single but possibly a betrothal.

Family Tree :Abbigails_Family_Tree.png


Biography:
She was born out of four children of Emory Lannister and Leyla Ruffger. She is also the niece of the king and her aunt is one of the kings many wives but also as a cousin who is the current prince. She has a sister and two brothers one of them is deceased. Her youngest brother Erryk was killed in battle along with Prince Maekar Blackfyre. She currently grieves the loss of her young brother while living in the westerlands. She resides to distract herself from the loss with romance novels as she tends to be a lover for romance but she finds most interacts she has had are flings.

She is a dreamer she fills her head with books of romance, love, and adventure she dreams to have. She is happy for her older brother who found love and children in his life. She hopes to become something bigger than she already is. She has hopes and dreams her family being more military based she hopes to learn some of it. She has practiced moves to protect herself from enemies, she is definitely not a damsel in distress. She never got along with her mother she found her mom would nitpick on the littlest things. She tended to go off with her sister Johanna who was the musical talent and vain one while she was the quiet pretty lady with her nose in a book. The two are very different but put their differences aside which formed a better relationship with each other when they felt lonely. With their brothers away Jason married and Erryk dead the two only have each others company.

She suspects her brother jason will inherit the military rights of what her father gained in his life. Her father currently alive helps run the military in the kingdom while his family can relax and not worry, But for sure Erryk's death will pull some sane strains in her father's mind. Only hope and unity in these mournful times could possibly soften the hearts of the grieving family members. Some distraction can be supposed from what's happening in the innermost circle of events piercing the delicate hearts of loved ones. What could be gained through death? what could harness that built-in anger that makes one scream bloody hell to the rooftops? Only the individual can decide how to harness these emotions.

From small memories to tragic ones her little brother was gone. The memories she had melting like hot iron and forming into an unbreakable prison. Who was she to blame the hurt she felt. She was close to her little brother, why now did they decide it was time for his life to end. What reason did the universe have? The happiness the was deep within her heart shrinking as she thought of his tragic end. She could only imagine his tiny toddler hand in hers looking around curious of the world before he even knew what the world was. The world seems now like a dark place that you want to hide from death. Death do you part? You part everyone.

She could only look at the grave and wish for him back, wish he didn't leave home that day. She had lost a best friend and a Brother. Erryk Lannister was no more and will be a forgotten figure in history. Just an unseen face that died so tragically wanting to be a knight but was only a page. She was broken-hearted the little brother that would play in the Westerland woods with her and give her a hug and say he would be back soon. Now he was not going to be back not anything would bring him back.

what I would give
to spend one more day
with you
 
Last edited:
Rhaeyel 111.jpg


Name: Rhaeyel Waters
Title:


Age: 15, Born in 285AC




Marital Status: Single


Family Tree: WIP


Biography:
Rhaeyel grew up being the acknowledged bastard son of Clement Celtigar. Separated from the other Celtigar children, Rhaeyel spent most of his time working in the stables or with the huntsman. When he wasn’t tending to his duties he often spent time with the blacksmith’s daughter and watching her make odd trinkets. He never much enjoyed deer or boar but the sport of the hunt piqued his interest. Around the age of eleven he fell victim to a terrible hunting accident. This left him with a scar on his left palm and left eyebrow. The boy barely saved his life by raising a hand to cover his eye, the arrow pierced his hand and embedded itself shallowly into his eyebrow. Following this accident his left hand was completely useless for a whole year, the man responsible was accused of shooting the boy on purpose. It was rumored that Lady Celtigar paid this man to do the deed. In retaliation Clement had the hunter drowned and forced his wife to watch. From that point on Clement assigned a guardian to watch over his bastard. Clement’s role in Rhaeyel’s life grew more and more nonexistent with the arrival of Lila Snow.



Lila Snow is an intimidating middle-aged woman with a steeled stare and tired face. She stands at five foot eleven and has been seen lifting a man off of his feet. Clement didn’t choose her because of her strength however, it was because of her rumored family. It is said only in secrets that she is a bastard of the Mormont house. She’s spent time serving the house and even bares a steel bear face on the shoulder of her cuirass. It’s no secret that the Mormont house is one of the most poweful in the north and values honor and tradition. Once under her care Rhaeyel’s lazy tendencies were worked out of him. No longer did he slack on stable duties or skip out on carcass cleaning from the hunts. Lila filled the boy with her wisdom and life stories whenever the work dulled. Though as the years went on it was clear that the Lady of the house sought to do him harm whenever her husband was away.



Knowing well enough not to challenge the Lady, Lila took the boy and prepared to flee Claw Isle. While gathering his things and saying his goodbyes he was approached by the only friend he did have. The daughter of the blacksmith, who had begged her father to prepare something for the Celtigar bastard. The girl gave Rhaeyel a riveted leather tunic with matching arm guards. In the center of the chest piece was a single purple crab surrounded by silver flames. Taking the gift, his bow, and cleaver he followed by Lila south of Claw Isle.


Other: He often wears a cloaked hood to cover his hair and avoid questions. When alone he often lays his scarred palm on top of his purple crab sigil.
 


  • 580740



    Full Name : Durran Baratheon

    Titles : Lord Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount, Lord of Stormlands, Master of Coin, Realm's Treasurer

    Age : Durran is 50 years old, being born in 250AC

    Family :
    -Durran's wife (W.I.P) - she belongs to a powerful Stormlands' House.
    -
    Edwyn Baratheon - the first son of Durran, Edwyn is a 30 years old handsome man, a skilled fighter and a wise strategist.
    -Orys Baratheon - the second son of Durran, of 22 years old, Orys decided to become a maester against his father's wishes.
    -
    Ellyn Baratheon - the only daughter of Durran, Ellyn is a 19 years old, known in all Stormlands for her amazing quick thinking and her mathematician skills, second only to Durran's.

    Biography :
    W.I.P.

    Other:
    -Durran's a mathematics genius
    -He is 6 ft 7 tall
    -While faith isn't of importance to him, he values and worships the forces of Nature, above any religion
    -Durran's raw strength is enough to break a neck in less than 5 seconds with one hand only


    [/div]
 
Last edited:
582636

Burning bright



  • Appearance:
    586377

    Aycella is very athletically built given her nature, she's also tall for a girl her age, standing at around 5'11", largely due to her father's own lengthy genetics.

    Name:
    Aycella Marbrand

    Titles:
    Lady, Heir to Ashemark

    Age:
    21, born in 279AC

    Marital Status:
    Single

    Family Tree:
    582614

    Biography:
    Third born daughter to Lord Carron Marbrand of Ashemark and his wife Ayana of House Lefford, Lady Aycella Marbrand is known by many throughout the Westerlands as a curiosity to say the least of it. Being both a woman and a warrior tends to bring that sort of attention needless to say. One of five daughters in House Marbrand, Aycella was the unfortunate middle child, and as such has always been the odd one out of the bunch, even excluding her more masculine character traits, this adolesent isolation, combined with her father's desire to have a suitable heir, led to a rather different childhood for Aycella than most other noble girls. Being trained by both her father and Ashemark's famed Master at Arms in all forms of combat, from hand-to-hand, to sword fighting to archery, Lady Aycella was to essentially be Lord Carron's impromptu son, if he and his wife could not produce a male heir, which they were unable to by the time of Lady Ayana growing too old to bare anymore children.

    Stricken by grief at his inability to produce a male heir, Lord Carron would seemingly withdraw himself from the social life of a Lord, and would instead focus solely on training his third daughter to be his heir, as Aycella's two older sisters had both already been married off by this point, and Gods forbid would Lord Carron hand control of Ashemark over to one of his married elder daughters, that would be as good as giving their ancestral home away to another house. As such, the Lord would keep a close watch over his third daughter, and Aycella would continue to grow into a young woman, regularly going on hunting trips with her father, and learning about the more advanced notions surrounding combat, namely the tactics that were to be used in battles, and the dynamics of warfare. The young Lady would learn how to maintain a strong army, the art of keeping logistics moving, and the skills required to successfully both siege and fort and withstand a siege. It was unconventional, but it was necessary, although Aycella's true skills would not be tested until her first taste of actual combat in the Riverlands, where she would distinguish herself by slaying over a dozen men, many of whom were a great deal larger than herself.

    As of now, Aycella's reputation precedes her, she has largely earned the respect of her troops, and the local Lords of whom are close to House Marbrand. Known to be a talented fighter and commander, especially for her still relatively young age, she has recently been pulled out of the fighting in the Riverlands by her father, and put in-charge of the defense of Ashemark and its surrounding lands and towns, with one of her primary responsbilities being the levying, training and equipping of a large army, an army larger than any before raised by House Marbrand, and from what sources can tell those on the outside, she appears to be succeeding in her task. Her relationship with her family is strong, although her two older sisters do have some resentment for the girl as she was the one to recieve the status as Heir to Ashemark over them, and Aycella is most certain that either of her two elder siblings would rather be Heir to Ashemark than be wedded to their current husbands. She holds some slight resentment at being the insurance choice for her father, but still appreciates him, and as such has a close relationship with her father, who she looks up to a great deal, and who she is thankful for giving her opportunities that most other noble girls could only dream of.

    Other:
    When not sparring in her own private courtyard, it is said that Aycella is best to be found in the hills and forests that surround Ashemark, hunting with a group of her close, childhood friends, many of whom have now become her most trusted advisors, and decorated knights. Aycella can also be found with her horse, or one of her many dogs in and about Ashemark, and though it may be due to the increasingly fragile nature of the Westerlands, recent rumors have suggested that the young Lady prefers the company of women. Her father has denied this rumor wholeheartedly, although Aycella herself often states that she prefers not to be dragged into the sly, rat-like labyrinth that is the social scene amongst Lords and Ladies.

 
Last edited:
593617

Name: Deirdre Lydden
Age: 20
Height: 5'4"
Family:
Father- Albert Lydden (living, age 53)
Mother- Ofelia Lydden née Kimbell (deceased, age at death 47)
Brother- Dante Lydden (living, age 25)

House words: Trust our rage

Family history of fierce warriors and fighters, though Deirdre seems to have inherited her mother's sharp mind adept at strategic planning in place of her father's natural ease with weapons

Family sigil:
593627

Deirdre is whip-smart, sharp tongued and potentially manipulative, as well as interested in studies such as alchemy

Her father clearly favors her elder brother, as he is the rightful heir, so Deirdre was mostly taught by her mother. When she was 17 her mother fell ill with a fever and died shortly thereafter, leaving the young girl bitter and angry with the world for taking away the person she had been closest with. Strongly opinionated and stubborn at times, she has refused all marriage proposals aimed towards her thus far. Her relationship with her father and brother is cold and distant at best, outright disdainful and neglectful at worst. Coming from a family that values combat skills, her father doesn't care much for his daughter, believing that she is not strong enough to fight. Her sharp tongue and quick wit help her maintain a reputation as a temperamental and formidable debater, as well as a sly and silver-tongued manipulator if the situation calls for it.
 

Attachments

  • lyddencrest.jpg
    lyddencrest.jpg
    25.4 KB · Views: 3
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top