Fandom A Game Of Thrones : THE EXALTED COUNCIL - Character Sheets

[sellswordwarrior]

Appearance:
https://img00.deviantart.net/6264/i/2013/037/7/9/the_mercenary__the_dim_by_altair333-d5u0565.jpg
Full Name:
Rupert Crabb
Titles:
Ser
Age:
19 years old
Family:
Family Echo - Free Online Family Tree Maker
Also Claims decent from Ser Clarence, King/Champion of the claw whose seat was the whispers,and took his 8 year old brother as page
Personality:
Ser Clarence is a Friendly, likeable character,having a mixed personality of a soldier with touches of nobility, meaning he can meld into both the commonfolk and the nobles,adapting to talking with both pretty easily , his years as a squire and hedge knight have made him ambitious and a hard worker,sometimes (but not always,and most usualy when all other more honorable ways have failed ) willing to do anything,if it means reaching his goals,like a noble title,money,or power and he gets stuck,he wont be afraid to get his hands dirty,but only then,he also likes booze,feasts, junting,making friends and the thrill of combat and battle
Biography:
Born to Adrian Crabb, A Hedge Knight Group Leader, and Caroline Crabb nee Pyne, A poorer distant member of house pyne of cracklaw point,Rupert Crabb traveled westeros since the moment he was born, he had been from the arbor to the wall by his coming of age, always traveling with his mother and father as his mother was a skilled healer, and tended to the wounded of the hedge knight group Adrian led,Adrian taugh Rupert how to fight since 6,and took him as a page the next year, Rupert gained many abiltities from his traveling, from playing with sticks as swords with other boys to climbing trees and even some hunting, once he had enough age, the way of life rupert left and the training he recieved made him a skilled warrior although he uses a bow to hunt, his real skill is figthing up close, he fights mounted or on foot, with his preferred weapons being the longsword with a shield and lance, he has won several minor torunaments, he also loves his little brother, and after the death of his father and mother a few years prior,he has taken him under his wing, making him his page, after his fathers death, the men of the hedge knight group chose rupert as their leader,thanks to his skill in arms and relative good undertanding of nobles customs and ettiquete
Extra
Always names his horses with the same name: Ruffian, has a wild interest in someday learning to read (he does not know),and is hellbent on becoming a lord himself ,also dreams of a valyrian steel sword

 

[Saavedra]

Full Name : AstoraArryn
Titles : Lady
Age : 43, born in the year 256

Family :
Sister- Shiera Arryn
Husband (late)- Lord Cadon Arryn
Son- Lord Alester Arryn

Appearance :
Lady Astora stands at a quite uncommon height of 5´8, a voluptuous beauty of fair skin, blonde hair and sharp, golden eyes. Her features are those of a hawk, quite appropriate for an Arryn, with a thin chin, thin lips, and a perky nose. The first hint of wrinkles can be seen in the corners of her eyes and lips. She wears her hair either long and loose or, rather more often, collected in different styles of braids. Astora´s clothing is usually dark and covers her figure to an extent, consisting of a dress with a thick cloak more often than not.

The Lady of the Vale would be quite the desirable catch for any man, except for the chilling aura she exhudes. Many say her smile does not reach her eyes, and they are not mistaken. Though she looks as regal as any great lady should, her majesty is in constant competition with the coldness in her eyes and the lack of warmth in her polite smiles. This throws both men and women off, and it can be just as much of an advantage as an annoyance, though there are always those men with a taste for danger...

Personality :
Lady Astora is strict toward those below her, and she is only a little more lenient toward those of her same status. She does not suffer fools or liars: the first she throws out, the latter she sends to prison. When fulfilling her duties, she has no time for wasteful chatter or joking unless that duty specifically requires this. Also, she bears little trust for those she has not known personally for some time, regardless of their status.

On the other hand, the Lady is fair and generous. Those that have been wronged can usually expect a prompt investigation and a little recompense, even if it is simply to dine at her hall. None are beyond this reward, even though Lady Astora is perfectly aware of what a privilege this is for the low-born. She enjoys listening to strangers of all walks of life, though there are those that suspect their discomfort at being in her presence is a source of much amusement for the lady.

In short: those Lady Astora despises can expect curt replies and being sent off, while those that earn her favour may enjoy the hospitality only a great lady can provide. Of course, not many make an effort to earn the favour of a woman who, while beautiful and possessing pleasant manners, is far above their station and gives off a chilling aura.


Biography :
It was quite clear early in her childhood that Astora would be no common lady. As a child, she was arrogant and uncontrollable, which is not to say that she was hot-headed. No servant could stop her from doing as she pleased, but she was not any more impolite than reminding them what their place was in her lord father´s House, and giving them the occasional whipping with wet clothes. Astora would be sweet and apologetic when her parents were around, but would return to her unruly precociousness as soon as they were gone, a constant circumstance for a noble family that inhabits the most inaccessible fortress in the Seven Realms. Astora was always cool-headed, patient, cunning and strong. She unnerved the servants, challenged the Maester, and explored any place she arrived at with a calm, collected character that was at odds with her absolute refusal to follow the path marked down for her by others.

Thanks to the Seven, Astora´s time was not wasted. Whatever time she was meant to employ in learning poetry and sewing was instead invested in learning everything a lord of the Vale would have known. Beyond managing the castle, Astora immersed herself in falconry, the history of Westeros and beyond, the managing of the Vale and other similarly useful knowledge. Though chastised often for her interests, Astora argued with her father that it would be a very rare thing indeed for a man to refuse the future Lady of the Vale´s hand in matrimony just because she was not a flower in the wall. The point was valid, seeing how she was the firstborn and, despite her parents´ best attempts, only heiress to the Vale. Only two daughters, her parents had, and not one bastard. Her mother was more difficult to get on her side, but by the time Astora considered herself clever enough to argue with her parents in a position approaching equality, the little girl had started to become a woman in very visible ways. Eventually, Lady Arryn, weary of arguments, accepted that the charmless attitude Astora displayed would probably be compensated for through base physical attraction.

This was how she eventually met Dollen Hunter, second son of House Hunter. He was a handsome man, intelligent, honest, and both aware and accepting of his duties. Astora and Dollen were smitten with each other at first sight, and madly in love within a fortnight. Though there were better, more convenient prospects, the two stood strong together against the objections of their lords, which were relatively mild anyway. House Hunter was as pure as could be, Ser Dollen was a man of proven intelligence, manners and courage, and Lord Hunter would hardly have argued against one of his sons marrying the future Lady of the Vale. His desire for Dollen to become Lord of the Vale was quick in coming, though also briefer than expected. Lord Arryn died in one of the many comings and goings from the Eyrie, and his Lady chose to retire to a more pleasant dwelling down in the verdant valleys.

Dollen and Astora formed a blessed marriage. Together, they were merciful judges, generous hosts and lords, and fearsome enemies. They staged the moving of villages inwards towards the valleys, drew the mountain folk out of their hideouts in search of spoils, and Dollen used that chance to fall upon them with all the might of the Vale, killing hundreds of the rebels and allowing for the quick resettlement of the abandoned areas. The cost of the campaign and the loss in revenue from the harvests was covered by House Arryn. This and other policies made the two quite popular in their early thirties.

Two problems came up a few years later, though. Firstly, the mountain folk were seething and looking for a chance to strike back at the rulers of the Vale. Secondly, Dollen and Astora could produce no heir. Shiera, Astora´s younger sister, should have been the next in line and the one to give birth to a successor for House Arryn, but she was lacking in a number of things compared to Astora. She was not as strong in character, understanding of human nature or aware of the consequences of her actions. Astora did warn her several times, but Shiera never listened, nor stayed around long enough for her older sister to have a proper talk with her. When Shiera gave birth to the king´s bastard, Astora was disappointed, and developed a bitter attitude toward her younger sister. Shiera gave birth to a bastard, yet Dollen and her could not have children. The unfairness of it was almost more than Astora could bear, and for the following years she practically locked herself in the Eyrie, refusing to see her own sister or the baby.

This sudden change in her mood, and her inability to get pregnant, cast a dark cloud over the Eyrie for a number of years.

Astora did not know it until some time later, but her first meeting with her nephew was engineered by her husband. Lord Dollen sent the boy to the Eyrie´s library knowing that Astora was there, immersed in reading to soothe her heavy heart, with the hope that they would somehow make peace. Several meetings like this, always carefully planned by Lord Dollen, managed to at least make Lady Astora see Daeron as an innocent boy, and not an abstract object to hate. Her attitude toward him mellowed out, even if it would still take some time for something that could be called `warmth´ to appear.

It was but a few years afterwards when Lord Dollen, riding a circle through the villages that had once been threatened by the mountain folk, was ambushed by said rebels. They had not forgotten the slaughter they suffered at his hands, and they were cunning about carrying out their attack. They struck, then tried to run. Unfortunately for them, Lady Astora was also in the column. The knights might have been confused and distracted by their lord´s death, but the need for vengeance cleared Lady Astora´s mind quickly and thoroughly. She took command of the knights of the Vale and began the pursuit. Another couple hundred mountain folk were killed, and this skirmish was soon followed by a full military campaign that Lady Astora devised with those that had been her lord husband´s most trusted captains. Though the mountain folk can perhaps never be scoured from the mountains surrounding the Vale, it is a safe bet that the carnage the campaign caused among them will probably not be forgotten until well past her death.

Lady Astora´s character did not seem to change much after her husband´s death, but only to those that know her well. A group of people that can be counted on one hand. To the Lady of the Vale, life lost its taste. Never the warmest woman except with her husband, Astora became colder, sinister even. Her smiles became fake, her eyes lost their light, and her clothing became somber and black, for the most part.

Aiding her nephew in learning falconry when his bird came to him, as well as meeting her sister Shiera again, only partially repaired the damage caused by her late husband´s demise. Only one thing, one specific event, could have brought Lady Astora out of her cold new shell...

… and it did take place, but a few weeks after Lord Dollen´s passing. Lady Astora was pregnant.

The news were celebrated with enthusiasm in the Vale and drew the attention of the whole kingdom. Some called it a miracle, a number thought it was a lucky turn of events, and a few were intelligent enough not to voice thoughts that would have merited strong rebukes. Whatever the reaction, Lady Astora gave birth to a healthy boy of yellow hair and golden eyes like hers, and the future of House Arryn was safe.


Other :
Being an accomplished falconer, Lady Arryn´s retinue often includes a couple of the most magnificent birds in the Eyrie´s aviary. Being an avid reader, said retinue also carries a small library.

It is not a small retinue...

 

[clarinetti]

• Garrett Grafton
• Meredyth Hightower

• 
  
  
  Appearance: At 5’5 with a broad-chested, stocky frame, Garrett doesn’t cut an imposing figure. As a lad he was considered comely by some of the ladies, but with the passing of time his gut has grown flabby and his cheeks drooping, soon to match the jowls of his parents. His natural expression is pleasant enough though, the man being more inclined to smile than frown.
  
  Full Name: Garrett Grafton
  
  Titles: Heir to Gulltown
  
  Age: 33, 266 AC
  
  Family:
  
  
  Personality: If one were to speak of Garrett’s character, his genial demeanour is likely the first (and only thing) that would come to mind. He offers the appropriate courtesies to those whom he encounters, and is pleasant enough in conversation, even though his contributions consist mainly of reiterating what others have already said. Consequently, the impression that most come away with is a bland one, the man seemingly having little opinion or insight of his own. Or else he chooses to keep these more personal thoughts to himself- it’s likely a bit of both.
  
  While many in the Vale speak a great deal of honour and loyalty, it is in action that one reveals their true intentions, and Garrett seeks to uphold that ideal when possible. He is not the sort to make half-hearted promises in order to appease someone, preferring to be forthright in his dealings with others. And while he might not like or agree with all decisions made by the Greater Houses or the Lord Regent, the man stands by them regardless of personal opinion. However, there are admittedly times where he fails to live up to these principles, when indecision or else simply a desire to avoid unpleasant outcomes leads to inaction, and it’s in these moments that a more weak-willed facet of his nature is revealed.
  
  Biography: The eldest son of Lord Denys and Lady Cynthea Grafton, Garrett lived a rather privileged life in his younger years. The parents did not indulge their childrens’ every fancy, yet living in the economic hub of the Vale had its advantages. With numerous ships coming into port every day from lands as far-flung as Planky Town and the Free Cities (And the number of curiosities which came with them), they received greater exposure to the wider world than many of their more remote peers. Both Garrett and his youngest brother Donnel took great interest in these foreign lands and the tales surrounding them- the middle child, Marlon, was far less intrigued in such affairs and more-so in wielding a blade. There were more crucial lessons to be taught to a nobleman’s sons, but when possible their mentor Maester Elwood sprinkled this knowledge of these exotic realms in his teachings, if only to maintain their attention a while longer. Yet in spite of his curiosity, the boy was not a scholar by nature, and in matters of combat was equally mediocre. Respectful, considerate, loquacious- these were Garrett’s defining characteristics at that age. Yet while that was all well and good, these traits alone would not make a capable lord.
  
  Determined to find where his heir’s talents laid, Denys took it upon himself to reveal the boy’s potential. Perhaps the lad had not the makings of a warrior, but rather a mind for strategy? Or else he was more proficient captaining a ship than leading a vanguard? If combat was not his strength, maybe he’d be better suited to more political ventures? Aware of what his father hoped to accomplish, Garrett tried to be a good lad and gave each endeavour his all, but nothing seemed to naturally click. Of the countless pursuits, his time aboard the galleys of Gulltown’s fleet was the most enjoyable, and it was through this exploration that he developed an interest in falconry (Later receiving a peregrine falcon as a gift on his tenth nameday). Ultimately, the results of this toiling was a rudimentary knowledge in a range of topics, but a mastery of none.
  
  By his mid-teens, by all rights considered a man grown, Garrett as well as his father had largely given up on finding any ‘great gifts’. Lord Denys had Garrett sit in on his meetings and observe as he went about his duties, but in his eyes, there was little more to be done. The young man took this all in stride, still aiming to make his parents’ proud, but in truth was greatly tormented. Whilst his parents’ had done all they could to support him (And he in turn did his best to prove worthy of it), he had seemingly made very little of himself thus far- in this case, the sum was neither equal nor greater than its parts. And while his father never voiced it aloud, Garrett sensed a great deal of disappointment from him, verging perhaps on resentment, which only heightened when comparing the first-born son to his brothers. In contrast, Marlon turned out to be an adept fighter with a sharp mind for tactics, and while Donnel’s greatest skill was drinking anyone under the table, at least they had placed fewer expectations on him as the youngest. It troubled the lad, enough so that he continued to request training from the master-of-arms and lessons from elderly Elwood despite his age.
  
  Years passed in this manner, with Garrett quietly studying the sword and sums and scripts. It was not something which came natural to him, but he persisted regardless, keen to make something more of himself. At the behest of his parents he eventually took a bride, a Rowena of House Corbray. Better matches could have been made for him, but the girl thought him comely and clever, and her words had a way of soothing his wounded pride and making him feel as though he were a greater man, and so they wed. Two children of his own came into the world soon after, crying and cooing in turn- they incited both a joy and anxiousness within him. He retreated further in his largely unspoken pursuit- he started keeping closer tabs of the books, began meeting with the local merchants to see about shrinking the modest debt which Gulltown had somehow acquired over the years. On multiple occasions the man would take to sea once more, this time to visit traders in the southern kingdoms or meet with the Iron Bank in Braavos. It was a thankless task, a job few were interested in taking on, but he felt he could finally provide a service of value to his family, and that was enough for him. For their part, his mother was more than supportive of his work (Grateful that her oldest son found something to keep himself busy), and his father’s faint praise was, if not encouraging, at least not in opposition to it all.
  
  It was shortly before his father’s fifty-second name day that the family began to notice a change in the Lord’s demeanour. During meetings and gatherings both great and small, the discerning eye could see how his eyes glazed over, attention diverted elsewhere. In the middle of discussion, there would be an unexpected pause in his speech before the man offered his peers a good-natured chuckle and resumed speaking. When seeking the Lord out, it became increasingly common to find him sitting by his writing desk, going over a letter he had read but hours before. Denys had never been a man of great intellectual prowess, but he was known to be attentive and more than competent in his duties, and so this shift in behaviour grew troublesome to his family. Initially the Lord brushed off the inquiries, attributing any slip of the mind to stress and old age. However, as time passed it and these minor deviations grew more frequent, Garrett and his brothers realized it was something more serious. Eventually Cynthea convinced her husband to allow the Maester to examine him, if only to ease her woes. After speaking with the other family members of their concerns and putting Denys through a series of tests, the Maester concluded that, much like his father before him, the Lord Grafton’s mind was indeed deteriorating.
  
  For a time thereafter, Lord Denys continued fulfilling his duties to the best of his abilities, albeit with some additional aid from his sons’ and council. Within a few years however, the task of ruling Gulltown grew too arduous a task to leave to him. The recent past was increasingly a muddle to him, his temperament mercurial, and while he tried his best of feign it, certain words and names would on occasion slip through the sieve of his mind. This abrupt change in their spouse and parent has proven disheartening to all, but it is the eldest son who is perhaps most conflicted by it. Since then, responsibility over the city and its people has been passed to Garrett, with his father remaining Lord only in name, a burden the heir has borne for nearly three years. Care of the elderly Denys has fallen to his mother Cynthea and the new Maester Roland, his children more often than not preoccupied with tending to matters pertaining to Gulltown and the Vale at large. Still the Lord-to-be continues attempting to sharpen the dull edges of his mind into something useful, both in a desperate effort to ensure he can take up the mantle as well as to stave off any mental feebleness of his own.
  
  Other: In his expanding role as future Lord, Garrett’s most valuable asset has been a strong business acumen. Good in sums and matters of trade, he runs a tight, if not frugal, ship in managing Gulltown’s finances, and has proved himself an accomplished negotiator in dealing with the city’s merchants. An avid falconer since boyhood, Garrett houses six birds of prey in his aviary, his most prized being a gyrfalcon named Windblade. One often finds him tending to the creatures when trying to shirk away from his duties or else seek privacy.
  
• 
  
  
  Appearance: In spite of her years, Meredyth looks far more like an unbud maiden than a woman grown. At a slight 5’3 stature her frame is akin to a wooden board, and there clings a childish softness to her figure, most prominent on her face. The austere manner in which she carries herself however refutes any notion that she is simply a doe-eyed ingenue.
  
  Full Name: Meredyth Hightower
  
  Titles: Heiress of Hightower
  
  Age: 24, 275 AC
  
  Family:
  
  
  
  
  ​
  Personality: In her dealings with the noble houses, Meredyth attempts to exude the charming airs expected of a highborn lady. However, she is not one to mask her feelings, and when her tolerance of simpering smiles and idle chatter has been exceeded, an acerbic wit and callous demeanour are revealed. While she tries to refrain from bruising anyone’s pride, she can be vicious when provoked and doesn't naturally back away from a challenge. Some say this ruthlessness is unbefitting of a woman, but in her mind to be anything else is to be seen as weak and malleable. As such, she constantly seeks to hone what skills are available to her, unafraid to make use of any tool to outmanoeuvre those who would stand in her way.
  
  In spite of this harsh exterior, the young woman privately questions herself and her ability to uphold the legacy of her House. Deeply conscientious of how others perceive her, she is prone to misinterpreting certain social situations, and tends to ruminate upon such matters when left unoccupied. There remains a tender, more sensitive side to Meredyth’s nature, but it is one she seeks to quash lest it risk interfering with her judgement. While the role as Lady isn’t one she takes pleasure in (And is, in truth, a duty which has not shaped her character for the better), it is a mantle she is unwilling to pass on, at least until a suitable heir arises.
  
  Biography: Since the day she came wailing into the world, Meredyth was one of a soft, agreeable disposition. As a little girl she clung to the skirts and cloaks of her parents and the septa who raised her, seldom one to wander off and cause mischief. There was an ever-present spark of curiosity in her wide-eyes, keen to take in the bustling world around her, but it did not supersede her obedient tendencies, at least not at this tender age. Shortly before her fourth name-day she received an early gift in the form of a baby sister, and was further blessed with another sibling a few years later. Some children might be displeased in having to share their parents affections, but Meredyth had no such qualms. Rather, she took to caring for the little ones, and as they grew older was happy for the extra company. Not that she lacked in playmates, for Lord Hightower took on a number of noble families daughters’ as wards.
  
  Growing up, there were few woes to burden her shoulders. She knew that as a lady, she would be one day expected to court a nobleman’s son and be wed, and as such there were certain skills she was meant to foster. Some were simple enough, such as etiquette or equestrianism, but others proved more tedious. Her movements were not graceful in dance, her tongue not one for singing, and her needlework was just passable. Yet at this age it did not trouble her, for she’d have years before she’d have to worry about such things, and there were far more interesting things to spend the days doing. She was a voracious reader, countless afternoons spent reading of the histories young and old, and could recite passages of The Jade Compendium or deliver sorrowful renditions of various poems. The septa was more keen on having her focus on The Seven Pointed Star than these secular texts, but she could scarcely complain when the cunning lass had already memorized it.
  
  This idyllic period came to an end however at the age of nine, when it became increasingly apparent that Mina would not bear another child. In the years since Elinor’s birth, she had been thrice pregnant, only to have one stillborn son (Posthumously named Jeremy) and unable to carry the other two to term. Furthermore, during this time the Lady began to experience increasingly painful cramps in the pelvic region, and the effort of bear a child drained much of her vitality. Warning that further attempts would likely be equally unsuccessful and only risk the woman’s health, Maester Warryn advised Lord Hightower to abandon any hopes for a son. For a few years longer the couple tried to have a boy, but as Mina’s symptoms worsened, eventually the notion was discarded. To see her mother in such pain during this period distressed the eldest daughter, but what was more concerning was that now she was in line to take her father’s stead. For one reason or another she had always expected she’d one day get a baby brother who would grow up to be Lord of Hightower, while she could be left to her own devices. Now, that future was no longer a reality. When Lord Willem finally addressed the matter with Meredyth, he offered that his brother’s son Gerion step up to take the position, so that his sweet, docile daughter need not stress herself. To his surprise however, she rejected the suggestion, stating she would not abandon her duty to her family, and with that the matter was laid to rest. In the years that followed, the young lady dived into her new work with great zeal, fortifying her knowledge on how to manage a house and the duties associated with it. When her father mediated on the matters of merchants and smallfolk, or travelled to treat with the other lords, she was his shadow, watching and listening to all that took place. The time spent with childhood friends dwindled, and in their place she grew acquainted with the older noblemen and the sons who would inherit their titles. Initially she was shy in their company, especially the lads who might one day seek to court her, but sought to make a good impression on them and their parents’. She would dance at the feasts with them and smile at the japes, even if they weren’t funny, if only to remain a proper lady.
  
  Unfortunately, this seemed to get her nowhere in trying to convince the noblemen of her legitimacy as an heir. When she sought to speak of lordly matters, her comments were by and large ignored by the young lordlings with a sneer and dismissive wave. Some of the elder lords were kinder and humoured her participation, but more often than not she found herself unable to break through to them. This troubled the lady greatly, fearing it appeared weak and insipid, neither of which was appropriate for a future head of house. When she broached the matter with her father, his frank response was that it was most likely her gentle demeanour. One needed to display strength and confidence in order to be heard, and while he did not wish to mold his child into something she was not, Willem emphasized to her that it was easier to lead when respected by one’s peers.
  
  Despite Willem's good intentions, thereafter Meredyth sought to harden herself, taking cues from her father as well as the few woman who held true power in Westeros. No longer would she offer false pleasantries to humour those around her, and grew blunt in her manner of speech. Initially, many were off-put by this abrupt shift in demeanour, attributing it to a previously unknown obstinance, and even her family grew concerned at this change in behaviour. And indeed, to play this new and foreign character was an uncomfortable struggle for the girl, and it took years of careful cultivation for the facade to begin to stick. Perhaps there was truth to the words of her parents, that it would be easier to bear this burden with a partner by her side. Yet with that would come a slew of other womanly duties which she was unwilling to partake in, the weight of motherhood looming above all others. After seeing the struggle her own mother endured, and the maester warning that she too might have such difficulties, the young lady was convinced that few fates were more grievous, and thus it was one she was unwilling to pursue. And who would want to wed a woman who would sire no children? So the charade was continued in hopes that she might grow into the role and adopt the mask she had constructed.
  
  Now at four-and-twenty years old, the heiress remains unsure if her labours have paid off. There seem to be some lords who see merit in the words the lady speaks, and others still who think her a foolish girl wasting time pretending to be something she’s not. Perhaps her temperament would improve if her cousin took her place instead, or else if her lord father forced her to settle down and wed someone. But for one reason or another, Willem has allowed his daughter to continue her antics, and so the show goes on. Meredyth is aware that there are those who still question her capability to take her father’s mantle, but is unwilling to stand down after all this time (Though she has since agreed to allow Gerion to aid her as Master-At-Arms of Hightower). With Alysanne wed and a child enroute however, the succession of their house is near assured. All that is left is to endure the coming storm, and pray that she and the rest of her house are up to the challenges which await them.
  
  Other: When not preoccupied with matters concerning the house, she is often found convening with the Maester, most likely requesting additional texts from the Citadel. Whilst she does not wield a blade, she has a strong mind for strategy and has a great fondness for cyvasse. Her other pastimes include horseback riding and the wood harp, though she’s not particularly skilled at either. She has a basic grasp of High Valyrian, though in speaking a number of colloquialisms are borrowed from the Bastard Valyrian spoken in the Free Cities.
  
  
  

 

[TheAncientCelt]

House Darklyn

Spoiler

Full Name :
Balthazar Darklyn


Titles :
Lord of Duskendale
Master of Coin

Age :
62
Born in 237

Family :



Personality :
Balthazar Darklyn is an enjoyable and social man. He has many friends throughout the Seven Kingdoms and the Free Cities. Master of Coin, Balthazar was agreeable enough with several of the other Lords on the Small Council, such as Lord Baelor Tyrell and his grace Aegon Targaryen. Never shy with coin, even that which didn't belong to him, Darklyn bought the friendship of several lords over the years. Never quick to anger and always eager to solve problems, Balthazar is one that is difficult to spur.


Biography :
Named Master of Coin by the second year of Aegon's reign, Lord Darklyn has spent nearly thirty years in his post. He's proven to be intelligent when it comes to squeezing a budget and knows where to put the gold dragons when it comes to celebrations, and where to skip out. In his marriage life, Balthazar is wed to Selyse Rosby, sister of Symond Rosby. A good friend of his, Balthazar and Selyse have proven to be less than close. Only having two children while Balthazar has eight - potentially more - the Master of Coins is an established man of passion. No one woman can keep his attention. This had caused a rift between Lord Rosby and Balthazar for some years now, with the death of King Aegon slowly bringing Balthazar and Symond Rosby back together.


Other :
Lord Darklyn is known for his stutter, usually taking him three tries to speak properly.

House Darklyn

Spoiler

Name: Selyse Darklyn
Age: 55
Sexuality: Heterosexual

~ ~ ~

Name: Symond Darklyn
Age: 34
Sexuality: Heterosexual

~ ~ ~

Name: Walder Darklyn
Age: 27
Sexuality: Heterosexual

 

[Elucid]

Vaemond Celtigar


​

In all my time travelling through Essos I have seen many things , read and heard many tales but none have been as insulting to the ear as the words of that charlatan Lomas Longstrider who considers these Valyrian roads to be one of the great wonders made by man, held no less in regard than the bloody Titan of Bravos. Hate to break it to you Laena but it's really not that remarkable, after all, they're just a few roads, albeit pretty wide ones.
~Vaemond Celtigar in a letter to his half sister Laena commenting on his travels through the former lands of the Valyrian Freehold

My brother is a drunkard a sycophant a stubborn, cynical bastard that has roamed the halls of every brothel from fair Kings landing to distant Norvos. By all accounts that matter, namely that of my late father, he's the perfect choice for ruling these here Isles.
~Edwell Celtigar speaking to a council of lesser nobles wishing to skip his brother in the line of succession

Titles : Lord of Claw Isle
Age : 26
Appearance : Vaemond possesses the classical Valyrian features: he has pale skin, silver-blond hair, and pale lilac eyes.
Family:

Spoiler: House Celtigar

Personality : Vaemond has gained a bit of a reputation for his free-spirited, licentious behavior and disarming charm, behind closed doors however he is prone to wroth and displays of extreme violence.

Biography :
Born to Lucerys and Baela Celtigar in the year 273 AC on a bright summer morning in Claw Isle, Vaemond was the pair's third child and the only one that hadn't died in infancy. At an early age, he developed a wanderlust that would probably never be satiated, and who could blame him? He'd look to his west and see Backwater bay with its numerous old, proud houses lining the way to the capital, to his east beyond the narrow sea he'd imagine the dark continent of Essos with its centuries of history, fables and lore reading which took up so much of Vaemond's early life.

The sudden death of Baela Celtigar affected Vaemond quite badly and although he doesn't remember much about her, his father's new wife kind and she was, would never be able to fill the role of a lost mother figure.

Growing up Vaemond wanted to be the High Septon, a member of the Kings Guard and the Grand Maester all at the same time. His attention just like his ambitions was constantly fluctuating; he'd seem to excel in his studies for a while until he'd be bored with it and give it up entirely the same applied to swordplay and almost every other hobby he ever took up. He did still retain his passion for travel and the seas, he'd throw a fit every time his father went to Dragonstone, insisting that he be taken with him. As time went on and Vaemond grew in age he developed new passions frowned upon by polite society, he spent most his times outside the castle walls drinking, gambling and whoring but it seemed no matter what he did no matter how grievous his sins were he'd receive nothing but a paltry punishment. Vaemond had a way of getting himself out of any kind of trouble, which brought him the ire of his half-brothers who were exemplars of good character and accomplished stewards on the path of becoming knights.

Vaemond seemed to have spent countless Namedays on that Island surrounded by the seas, it was as if he was being suffocated, unable to move, unable to leave. Finally on his 18th nameday he asked his father permission to take a few men at arms a Carrack and some provisions to set sail for Lys, when his request was for obvious reasons denied he hired a band of local mercenaries who with his help raided the castle's supplies, stole a solitary Carrack from the harbor and set sail. Although the crew wasn't as experienced at seafaring as Vaemond would've wished but good winds and the grace of the seven thankfully lead them to their destination - the Grand city of Lys. Lys at first was a daunting land full of a strange , people with even stranger customs but soon his noble birth and charismatic tongue got him into the courts of many prominent Lysene nobles. Although most of his time was spent in pillow houses in Lys he was able to acquire for himself a small part in the city's bustling slave trade, which if known back home would be quite damaging to his reputation for engaging in slavery is seen as a grave sin in the faith of the seven and is officially outlawed in all the seven kingdoms.

Vaemond didn't spend all his time in Lys however, he was interested in traveling all across Essos or at least each of the nine free cities, on the way he picked up a variety of trades from spices to pear brandy and wine. During his travels, he was able to learn a few of the local languages like Tyroshi and a bit of broken High Valyrian. Back home things were not going as well, after his fleeing Claw Isle his father had threatened to disown him but that never really came to fruition, his only source of information within the castle was from his sister Laena who had always been on Vaemond's good side, she told him that over the years Lucerys had mellowed down quite a bit and now desired nothing more than his sons safe return although he would never admit it out loud. Recently his father had begun suffering from bloody flux and although the maester had tried his best to treat the illness the situation was dire and Laena begged him to come back, which he reluctantly decided to do fully intending to get back to exploring the free cities at a later time, however his father passed away during his voyage home and despite the lesser nobles being vehemently opposed to continuing the line of succession the brothers Edwell and Terrance Celtigar wished to honor their fathers wish that Vaemond be the next lord of the Isle as was his right. So when Lady Tide landed on the shores of Claw Isle Vaemond was informed of his fathers passing and of his duties as a lord under Dragonstone.

Other: Vaemond never goes anywhere without his personal "harem" a troupe of girls, hailing from almost all the lands of the known world that he managed to bring back from Essos, prized among them is Zhala a seductress from the summer isles. Vaemond carries with him numerous old books written in a variety of languages on the culture and history of Essos, in fact, he has taken it upon himself to translate a few interesting Tyroshi works into the Westerosi tongue. As lord of Claw Isle and head of House Celtigar Vaemond carries with him the ancestral Valyrian steel axe the "Crab's Pincer". Owns a Swan Ship he bought from Volantis that he calls "Lady Tide".

 

[Grammatic]

Spoiler: Edwyn Frey

Full Name : Edwyn Frey



Titles : Lord Frey



Age : 24



Family :
Does your character have a spouse? Or some siblings? A child or two?
NOTE : A Family Tree is always nice! If you want to make one, use FamilyEcho.


Personality : Edwyn is a schemer through and through. A trained fighter, he has little care for the sport, preferring to fight his battles with paper and quill. He has little qualms about doing whatever it takes to achieve his goals, no matter how dishonorable they might be.



Biography : Edwyn Frey is the youngest son of the former Lord and Lady Frey. Growing up, he had aspirations to become one of the greatest Knights in Westeros, and not only joining the Kingsguard, but becoming the Lord Commander of the honorable organization. He eschewed most of his studies growing up to focus on his martial talents and abilities, pitting himself against opponents far greater then himself to force himself to improve. He got into numerous fights with his older brothers, often earning bruises and broken bones for his trouble. His dreams to become a Knight came to a crashing end though on his thirteenth name day. House Frey and House Reed, long holding grudges against the other, erupted into a small border war. Edwyn wasn't ever told the reason, though this 'war' would become the most important moment of his life.

His older brothers, all of age marched off to battle at his fathers command, leading the valiant Frey levies against the Reeds. Over the course of three weeks, messages returned to The Crossing, each one telling of defeat in battle, and the death of yet another one of Edwyn's brothers. By the end of the month, Edwyn was no longer the eight son of Lord Frey, but the heir to House Frey in its entirety. With no end in sight, and reports of the Reeds massing or a counter push against House Frey, Edwyn went to his father, urging him to cease hostilities. Instead, he told his father to close The Crossing to all merchants and caravans heading North. His father, broken at the loss of so many of his sons, simply agreed. In the following weeks, all trade along the roads leading to the North, with the few Frey soldiers remaining hunting down and stopping those that tried to go around. House Reed had no trouble with this, they were an independent House, able to survive on their own without aid from outsiders, but the North in general was a different story. Houses that relied on that trade began to send letters to House Reed, urging an end to the conflict. Eventually, a single letter from House Stark came down and ended the conflict.

From that day forward, Edwyn devoted himself entirely to his studies, learning all the minor details of economy, politics, and the finer points of subterfuge. When he was one and twenty, his father passed away from illness, and he ascended to Lord of The Crossing. Under his leadership, the deals and contacts Edwyn had spent years making were brought to the fore, bringing increased trade and wealth to House Frey.



Other :
"Am I a Knight? Of course I am. Every prick with a sword and a name these days are Knights, but do you know what else I am? I am a thinker. I am plotter and a schemer. I am dishonorable and untrustworthy. But at the end of the day, when all the dust settles and the cries of the dying stop, who is left standing? Not the Knights, not the soldiers or warriors, not the Kings or Princes. The schemers are the ones that are left. Hell, I probably started the war."

 

[Akio]

Appearance :


Full Name :
Pate

Titles :
His Holiness

Age : 57

Family :
God Doesn't Have Family

Personality :
Usually, his Holiness is a man of mild manners and stern conviction. Good natured and well-liked he is known for his good deeds and his absolute devotion to the faith he rose into prominence rather quickly, able to form a loyal basis of his support in the church so much so when the last high Septon passed away in his sleep he was almost unanimously chosen to take the position of high Septon. However, there was a darker side to this man. At times he seemed to be overtaken by 'The Voice of the Gods' and his attitude can shift with a force of thunder. He can be extremely charismatic and driving and his speeches are well known among the common people and even some of the devout lords as despite his age he frequently travels. Though even beyond that rumors of darker things follow the high Septon, though they are usually not talked about at all. And when they are, it is often at a peril. One does not question the voice of the gods.

Biography : Long and interesting but writing it is a pain

Other : While generally preferring modest clothing he does have a few richer robes but is rarely ever seen donning them and when he does his mood can almost seem to change with it. He even has a sword though he rarely uses that as well.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Appearance :


Full Name :
Crixus Dondarrion

Titles :
Ser, The Tempest

Age :
34

Family :
Get back to me on that

Personality :
Prideful and brave Crixus is a man with little concerns on is mind. Despite being a member of the Kingsguard he cares little for the responsibility and even less for the rules. It is an open secret even among the Kingsguard that he enjoys the company of woman and with a cheerful and confident demeanor he tends to be the life of any party or round of drinking he joins. However, despite his decadent lifestyle, he is known not for that but for his skill in battle. Standing at over 6'6 and usually wielding a massive two-handed war hammer Crixus is likely one of the finest warriors in Westeros of his time and he knows it. Proud and always eager for battle he lives for the fight, often not caring who he was fighting or what side he was on as long as he could be in the heat of battle, though one who could obtain his word and oath could usually expect him to keep it for he kept to his oaths, even if not every part of them.

Biography :
Crixus Donarrion was always special as a child. As a child, he was enthralled of tales of battle and war, of great warriors current and old putting their lives on the line for their beliefs. While all marcher nobles were expected to learn some level of the art of Warfare Crixus threw himself into it and not only succeeded but thrived with Gusto. He wasn't just naturally talented at battle but adored it and threw every waking moment of his life into its perfection. Abandoning his family, position, and all he knew soon after he was knighted he went to Essos to live a life of a mercenary, throwing himself into endless battle after battle, even fighting in the great pits of Mareen. Eventually, he would return to Westeros for one of the kings many great melees and in a stunning display of skill entered the melee and smashed everyone participating. When the king complimented him and asked him what he might want for such a victory he proclaimed he wanted to be a member of the Kingsguard. He had heard both when he was young and in Essos that the Kingsguard were the finest warriors in Westeros and in his mind it was a title that must also be his own. And so it was granted and while he quickly found himself bored of his duties, and bending many of the rules of his organization, he never shrieked from his duties for the royal family, watching them closely. Whenever something needed forceful intervention he was quick to volunteer, for there was nothing he loved more than the roar of battle and no way he would rather one day fall then surrounded by slain enemies and laughter on his lips. He was not there at the start of this war, but he meant to be there now. Indeed a flame was about to engulf Westeros, and he meant to throw himself into it.

Other :
Other then warfare he likes to drink and often joins soldiers and guards on little escapades into town to drink and enjoy himself, seeing it as an important duty to enjoy life while you had it. Among the guard of the Red keep many generally favor him, though most won't train with him as few can stand up to his hammer he is well respected and well liked.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Appearance :


Full Name :
Urrigon Greyjoy


Titles :
Lord Commander of the Iron Fleet, Mad Reaver of Distant Shores

Age :
30

Family :


Personality :
Urrigon is a man who seeks only for his own pleasure. Wild and dangerous he moves with savage purpose in both battles and in life. Proud and impulsive he is known to do his own thing and follow his own instinct to the point only his brother has managed to hold any level of control over him he is a troublesome individual for any ruler. But while he is impulsive he has a certain low cunning to him and his tenacity and bravery in battle are near unrivaled.

Biography :
Urrigon Greyjoy even at a young age has a savagery to him. Though to use an ax since he could use one he had trained a mixture of discipline and the savage hack and slash the ironborn were known for. When he was young he got into a fight with another young boy over a rare sword brought back from Essos and in the end, Urrigon has split the boys head near in two with a savage swing of his ax. While he was punished his ways never changed and he remained utterly savage. Despite his father wanting to keep him at Pyke to temper him Urrigon snuck on a raiding ship heading to Essos at the tender age of 14, wishing to emulate Dalton Greyjoy who was often sung about on the isles. And so he did. He stayed in Essos for over two years, fighting well over a dozen engagements and taking Saltwives as well. 5 of them, one more than the Red Kraken as he wanted to surpass the legend, though he later claimed the 5th had been of lesser quality than the other 4 and he had just taken her to surpass the legend of his youth. When he came back he was seasoned and battle-hardened and took to regaling tales with the other Ironborn who his bombastic personality had many ironborn take a liking to him and despite bending the rules he never broke them enough to suffer more than minor punishments. When his father died he became even more wild, leaving for extended periods of time to raid freely in Essos till his brother managed to real him in. But now a storm was coming and what his brother needed was a reaver and warrior. Now all of Westeros would know his name.

Other :

 

[Hypnos]

Name: Gregor Bolton
Titles: Lord of the Dreadfort
Age: 26
Appearance:

Family:

Personality: A little bit of preamble. Does Fordee even actually ever bother to read these. I don’t know, maybe he’ll surprise me and complain that I didn’t fill in this section. Who knows, but I don’t really want to write a personality right now, so I’ll leave it blank for now, hope he doesn’t notice, and then come back to it when I have a bit of inspiration. Wip. Snitches get stitches.

Biography: The continued survival of Lord Gregor Bolton is one of the great miracles granted by the old gods. The eldest son of Lord Royce Bolton and his wife: Lyarra Whitehill, Greg Bolton was very young when he first showed signs of illness. When he was an infant, his father used to take him around the Dreadfort whilst he performed his lordly duties, including allowing his young son to accompany him down to the dungeons whilst he engaged in certain activities that would be frowned upon if they were revealed to the general public. Whilst this was meant to instill a young Greg with pride for his family traditions, and a sense of duty, it also had other, unexpected consequences. Cold, damp condition such as a castle's dungeons are not ideal for raising a child, a fact Lord Royce soon learnt when his son began to show the first symptoms of greyscale.
Like any concerned father, Royce Bolton was desperate to find his son a cure, searching far and wide and bringing in medical practitioners from all over the known world, seemingly to no avail. The disease started in Greg’s right hand, though it quickly spread up his arm, covering the right side of his torso and much of his face. All hope seemed lost, and it appeared that Greg would soon succumb to the illness and die. Then it stopped. The worst was over. Known by many as the ‘Miracle of the Dreadfort’, the greyscale that had been afflicting Greg’s body simply stopped it’s spread and grew dormant, leaving the boy terribly deformed, but otherwise fairly healthy. A skeptical maester might attribute this miracle to one of the cures which Lord Royce had ordered be used, acting too slowly to be initially noticed, or simply greyscale’s tendency to not be fatal in infants, however Lord Rocye himself would proclaim that his son had been saved by the gods, and that he would be destined to achieve great things.
The above led to Lord Royce taking a very active role in his son’s upbringing. His face concealed by a mask that hid his disfigurement, and his right hand amputated and replaced with a replica made of wrought iron, Greg was taught to fight with his left hand, a slow but ultimately successful process. Despite his clear disadvantages, Greg was a fairly competent academic as well as an accomplished huntsman and warrior. He would often enjoy tracking and killing his meals before he ate them, even going so far as to skin and prepare meat himself.
Royce Bolton would pass away from an infection when Greg was seventeen years old, though not before teaching Greg a couple of useful skills and family secrets. This left Greg in charge of one of the most powerful lordships in the North, the Dreadfort, a position he continues to hold.

Other:
Although he is married to Lady Margaret Manderly, they have yet to have children, and Maester Belthazar of the Dreadfort has theorized that Greg's condition may have left him infertile.
Due to the dormant greyscale, Greg can only see though one eye and can only hear though one ear.
As an avid huntsman, Greg is a lover of dogs and posses several hounds which he uses to aid him on his hunts.

 

[Braddington]

Lord Addam Osgrey

Titles:
Lord of Coldmoat, Knight of Standfast, Ser

Age:
19 (born 280 AC)

Family:



Personality:
WIP

Biography:
Born in 280 AC to Lord Duncan Osgrey And Lady Lynesse Florent many thought Addam would die at birth, the same had happened 4 other times to 4 other children due to an unidentifiable sickness. When he made it past the first month however, many rejoiced, they finally had an heir and a boy at that.

Addam grew up with his father always around, as his only child he would spend every moment teaching him or instructing him in something making sure he got it down to perfection. Addam was fed stories of his ancestors like the Little Lion who slew the King of the Rock but the story he loved the most was of Ser Duncan the Tall. Thanks to Ser Duncan, House Osgrey was still alive today and in the generations since 2 Osgreys have been named in his honour. He always wanted to be just like Ser Duncan and devoted his every waking moment to studying his adventures and recreating them with his cousin Garlan, he would not just be the legend but he would be better than it.

As he grew he, along with his cousin, trained in the art of the sword with a keen interest. Both of them wanted to be members of the Kingsguard but Addam knew that as heir he had a responsibility to his house, without him House Osgrey would fade into memory, still he secretly hoped the King would eventually take the decision out of his hands. During this time the two travelled the length of the Reach and even spent time in Highgarden training with the Master-At-Arms. His father however was getting sicker and sicker, an unknown ailment had taken hold of him as it had done his 4 previous children and he eventually became bedridden, his duties being performed by his wife.

When it became clear his father had but a few more years of painful agony left, he was summoned to Kings Landing, his father taking the journey at a great personal cost. Along the way the reason for the visit became clear, a tourney had been called to fill a vacancy in the Kingsguard and both Addam and Garlan had been secured places by Lord Duncan. He still remembers his father whispering into his ear as they neared the city “Pursue your dream my son, as I should have when I was your age.” And Addam had every intention of doing so.

The tourney was a great spectacle, knights from all over the realm came to participate and earn the favour of the King. In the early rounds he easily bested knight after knight and even as the calibre of the competition grew he performed exceptionally well. With many injuries sustained he made it to the final joust, one more win and he would have his childhood dream fulfilled. Then his opponent was finally revealed, there his cousin sat atop his horse with defeat appearing on his face, they both knew Addam would win as he always did during their practise jousts. Then Addam looked to the crowd and too his father who had made the effort to attend, then he looked to the banner of House Osgrey and understand one reality. He had to lose. He had a duty as his father had before him, his cousin did not however and so his childhood dream passed on to his cousin attaining it instead. As the joust began he made a deliberate slip and then within seconds he was on the floor, his cousin had won the day. The King came down from the podium and knighted both men before lifting Garlan up and placing a white cloak around his shoulders. House Osgrey was made proud.

Eventually he returned to Coldmoat where he became much more focused on ruling and took over duties from his father who but a year later passed on making Addam the Lord of House Osgrey at the age 18. He has led the House since doing everything he can too bring the House the honour it deserves standing Steadfast with Courage.

Other:
Addam is a very skilled fighter with a natural effortlessness in his swordplay. He has not yet married but is said to be seeking a bride. There are also worries that whatever ailment struck his father is hereditary, unlike those that had died before he has shown non of the signs usually shown however​

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Appearance :

If there's one thing to note about Lady Amelia's appearance, it's that she's short. Very, very short. Her husband absolutely towers over her the woman standing at only 5'2. But she makes up for this in her composed dignity and the way she carries herself. She doesn't glide when she walks like other ladies, but her gait is full of dignity and deliberation, a reflection of her firey and strong nature.


Full Name :
Amelia Forrester Stark


Titles :
Lady


Age :
43, 256 AC


Family :
Husband: Bryce Stark
Son: Theon Rikard Stark
First Born Daughter: Willow Stark
Second Born Daughter: Larah Stark
Third Born Daughter: Lyanna Stark
Fourth Born Daughter: Aregelle Stark

Personality :
Amelia is the model Northern woman. Calm, composed, and strong as the stone of Winterfell's walls. She's the mother wolf of the household, always caring for her chilrden and her husband. Whenever Bryce and Theon are away, she's in charge of Winterfell, and is more than capable of holding down the fort. She loves all of her children, and would gladly kill anyone for them and her husband. She is capable of humor, but only in private and among her family, much like her husband.


Biography :
Born the eldest daughter of House Forrester, Amelia was trained from a very early age to help keep the family's ironwood business running. Her father had gone sterile before his wife could best any son's, so he was forced to train his daughter to run the House. During a feast held in honor of Bryce Stark being named Lord Paramount of the North, Amelia met the young Lord, and the two instantly fell in love. They were betrothed, her father offering ironwood as the dowry, as the marriage would ensure the alliance of the two Houses, and make Forrester a steady income for his ironwood. One night, after another feast, the two young lovers wandered into the Godwoods, and made love for the first time under the Weirwood in the pale moonlight. This led to their first born, Theon, being conceived, and the two married quickly married to avoid controversy. The second Theon came into this world, Amelia fell in love with her chilrden. She would gladly kill every noble in Westeros if it meant saving her children from harm, and she wouldn't feel a sliver of guilt. She bore Bryce four more healthy chilrden, all but one having her signature red hair. She is currently in Winterfell with her family, happy that her husband is finally home.


Other :
She always carries a dagger under the folds of her dress. It was given to her on the night before her wedding by her father, who told her to, "Use this to castrate him if he touches you when you don't want him to." He himself obtained it during the War of the Ninepenny King's, where it was given to him as a gift by a Dornish nobleman that he saved. She has never used it, and intends to give it to her oldest daughter, Willow.
​

 

[notabot]

Appearance :


Full Name :
Boremund Brune


Titles :
Commander of the Goldcloaks


Age :
37


Family :
Brother: Lord Edmure Brune

Distant kin to House Brune of Brownhollow


Personality :
Although raised as nobility Boremund's time spent in the gold-cloaks has added slight uncouthness to the man, in the same way living in Casterly Rock has added slight wealth to the Lannisters. He is gruff and verbose with a quick fuse but known to be effective, practical and in his own way sort of honourable. Boremund's aim is to keep order in King's-Landing and while he does turn the odd blind eye or take the occasional bribe here and there it's really done more to 'grease the wheels' so to speak.

Biography :
Boremund had noble beginnings...relatively speaking. Crackclaw point was somewhat wilder than other parts of the Crownlands his childhood was spent exploring and adventuring the bogs and pinewoods with his twin brother; raised in the strange yet proud customs of the area.
Boremund's idyllic life had to end though, when he was twenty his father was taken with a spring sickness. Although Boremund was slightly older than his brother on his death-bed their father named Edmure as his heir and the next lord of Dyre Den. Jointly grieving for his father yet also angry at feeling skipped over in the succession a wedge seemed to form between Boremund and his brother so reluctantly he made the decision to leave.
To old to be a ward or squire and the life of a hedgeknight didn't suit Boremund, eventually he found his calling in the King's-Landing city watch becoming a gold-cloak. Boremund gradually rose through the ranks to become their leader.

Other :
Lost his nose at the hands of a criminal gang in Flea-Bottom who grew annoyed at his ability to sniff them out so gave him a warning.​

 

[Nightblade]

My Basic Info

Name: Selene Mallister

Age: 28

Title: Lady of Seaguard

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Family:
Father: Lord Jayson Mallister
Mother: Lady Leyana Piper
Brother: Jayce Mallister



Personality

Selene is very much the idea of a noble lady, demure and quiet. However, this hides a cunning mind knowing how to play the game and play it well. She uses her charm to her houses benefit. Being the Heiress of Seagard, she keeps this in mind and because of this she has proven adept at predicting what can happen depending on certain choices or battles.​

Biography

Selene was born as the second child to Lord Jayson Mallister and his wife Lady Leyana of House Piper. With an older brother securing the lineage, the plan for Selene was to wed into another house to cement an alliance. While Selene saw the reasoning of this, she partly hoped that she would be able to choose her husband. Selene grew up learning the 'Womanly Arts'. While she became a natural talent, she also became an avid player of the Game. Starting with servants around the castle of Seagard, she learnt quickly how the domino effect works.

A tragic accident saw her older brother die when he was 16 and Selene was 14. Suddenly the heir of Seagard was dead. There had been many involved in the decision but Selene was put forward under the premise that she would wed a second or third son of a lordly house and their children would bare the Mallister name to carry on the legacy of her house.

1 year passed and her parents quickly followed one another into the arms of the stranger. Her father in a hunting accident and her mother from a weak heart. Suddenly Selene took the seat of her father at 15. She had a loyal Castellan to give advise when needed, Selene became an effective leader. Many requests of marriage came in, with lordly sons eyeing Seagard as a way to show their ability to lead and gain land, but as the head of her house it was down to Selene to decide and she was no whimpering lady looking for a man.

Other Information

1) Selene is trained in the use of a dagger.
2) Selene earned her mens loyalty after killing a man who tried to rape her.
3) Due to trading, House Mallister has become one of the wealthiest Riverlands houses​

 

[High Moon]

Appearance :


Full Name : Torrhen Karstark

Titles : Lord of Karhold

Age : 34 (265 AC)


Family :



Personality :
Ambitious and proud, those two traits define who Torrhen is, His days were spent seeking glory, winning every melee Hosted across the North was his goal, he lusted For the women of the North, every girl and women was a conquest to sate his lust contrary to his youthfull days, Lord Torrhen shows little interest in such matters anymore shifting his attention to more important matters, such as those concerning his demense, years also have mellowed out Torrhen quite a bit he spends What little free time he has with his family albeit his old love for more 'earthly' pleasures and his wroth attitude may just be still there, laying dormant inside the depths of his mind and soul

Biography :
Born during the winter of 265 to Willam Karstark and his wife Meera Umber, the marriage between his Father and Mother was completely loveless, a political marriage aided by the friendship between Lord Willam and Lord Glover's Heir, not that it stopped them from having four kids together.

As the only son of Lord Karstark, Well untill it was too late to care about. Lord Willam put some High standards For Torrhen. Standards that would have grave consequences on Torrhen's psyche as a young man.

During his fifteenth name day, He and his cousins, Brandon and Beron decided to go on a hunting trip in the woods surrounding Karhold. On their way to the hunting grounds, the trio came across a Young man, probably a year or So older than their eldest Torrhen, and his bride. These Peasants hadn't notified his Lord Father about this wedding. so as the heir to Karhold and all the lands between the southern end of the Bay of Seals to the outfall of the Last River he decided it was his duty to pass the Lord's judgement on the paesent and his bride so he ordered his fellow cousin Brandon to restrain the young man, while he claimed the lord's right to the first night.

Lord Willam brought Torrhen along with him to a trip to Castle Black, it was to teach the Karstark Heir about the importance of the Night's Watch and to empty the dungeons of Karhold a day before they left Castle Black, Lord Willam announced that they would be visiting Lord Liddle's hall before returning to Karhold melee in the hall of Lord Liddle was to be held, There Torrhen met Alyssane Liddle, the Daughter of Lord Liddle, She was as beautiful as a flower blooming amidst the snow that covered the Mountains of the North things got out of hand and a few months after Lord Willam and his host left the Hills and returned to Karhold, a raven carying a letter adressed to the aging Lord arrived one fine evening, telling him about the result of his son's deeds. Torrhen had fathered a bastard son with Alyssane Liddle.The news came as a shock, Lord William had arranged for a betrothal between Lord Glover's eldest daughter and now there was a letter sitting on his desk. Demanding Torrhen to be wed to Lord Liddle's daughter. Furious with his son, Willam ordered his servants to bring Torrhen to him in an instant, when Torrhen arrived to his Father's personal study the first thing Lord Willam did was to slap Torrhen across the face with his calloused palms so hard that Torrhen lost his footing. Torrhen recieved the beating of his life that day, after what seemed like hours, and Torrhen believed it had been hours since the sun was rising from the Bay of Seals, Lord Willam dragged the bloodied and bruised young man to the Godswood of Karhold and threw him down, facing the sacred weirwood tree and made him swear an oath in front of the Old Gods. To never touch a woman other than his wife ever gain

Lord Willam passed away when a band of Wildlings who had crossed the Bay of Seals attacked him while he was en-route to Last Heart to speak with his Brother-in-Law Lord Umber, Lord Harwin survived thanks to his skills with the sword and the sacrifice of his bodyguards and brother Karlon, he made it back to Karhold but died of his injuries before he could see the birth of his first legitimate grandchild. A boy who would be named after their Liege Lord.

As the Lord of Karhold for the last 14 years, Lord Torrhen has ruled Karhold and surrounding regions with the help of his uncle Harwin. following the example of his father he keeps a firm grip over his demesne involving himself with the day to day governing of it.


Other :
Lord Karstark likes to brawl and took part in more than ten melees when he was young, he hosts meeles in Karhold every three years.
While Lord Karstark knows How to handle a a Great sword or a axe he prefers to use an arming sword, finding it much more elegant and easier to use in the field of battle.​

 

[Braddington]

​

Lotho Antaryon

Titles :
First Sword to the Sealord of Braavos

Age :
43 (born 256 AC)

Family :


Personality :

Lotho is dedicated and passionate to the art of the Dance. Over decades he has perfected the art, absorbing it into his very soul and letting it shape his very personality. He can be seen as very brash and blunt but such is his love for the Dance that when teaching others he can't stand it being desecrated under his watch. This leads to diligence however, he won't stop until a task has been completed to his perfectionist expectations.

Biography :

Born into one of the richest families in all of Braavos he did not care a wit for any of it. From the moment he saw his uncle on the Moon Pool his life's pursuit and dream was laid bare before him and he could do nothing but follow its call. As his brother trained in manoeuvring the Iron Bank he danced long and hard through merciless night's, being humbled time and again by cocky Bravos and as his brother charmed the court he crafted sword after sword in an effort to find the right balance, a good extension of his arm. It was hard and unloving work but as the years past he got better and better and at the age of 20 it was even rumoured he would succeed the First Sword upon his retirement.

It was at this time he met the woman men dream of at night, the Black Pearl of Braavos. She was everything a man could ever want, beautiful, delicate and smart. The nights of merciless training turned into nights of pleasure and a different form of exhaustion. Lotho had no idea at the time she was just using him for pleasure but somehow he suspected afterwards that he wouldn't of minded anyway. This affair distracted him and his every waking moment as he tried to win the hand no man could ever claim, this culminated in the birth of a daughter. The First Sword retired not long after the birth and he was summoned by the Sealord to his palace, before he left for the palace however a messenger came from the Black Pearl stating he would never see her again. His daughter would know who her father was and would be allowed to see him but from that point forward she was an Otherys not an Antaryon. The future Black Pearl. Devastated as he was he arrived at the Palace on time, if a little drunk.

For the selection of a new First Sword the challenge was always different but this one was rather simple, a duelling tournament. Even in his state he beat many swordsmen but he was sloppy, his once perfectionist side became wild and unpredictable with harsh swings and weak thrusts. Eventually he was knocked out by a bright eyed guardsman who went on to win the competition. Politics played its hand however, one word from his father in the ear of the Sealord and he was summoned to take the role, his life's dream. Naturally he screamed bloody murder about the bribery and corruption, spat at the Sealords feet and walked out clearly rejecting the position he did not think he deserved and the mockery made of his greatest passion. He opted not to remain in Braavos after that confrontation.

Leaving with little possessions but his sword, food and drink he set out to refocus himself. The decade that followed was one of discipline and adventure, he returned to his routines as he freed slaves in Yunkai, saved towns from Dothraki and explored the mysterious Asshai. In this he found tranquillity, he did not need fame, money or wealth, all he needed was the freedom that dancing gave him and during all this time he never laid with another woman. He gathered a reputation still, however and it only grew as his list of deeds grew. Upon his return to Braavos he was greeted by a parade and the news his brother was now Sealord via internal coup, but more than that, the Black Pearl was dead and had been for the entire time he had been away. She did not abandon him, she was murdered on the orders of the previous Sealord in an effort to get Lotho solely dedicated to him when it became known she intended to propose.

Then he met his daughter at the age of 10, having been cared for the entire time by his family. As he settled back into Braavos life he grew close to her and trained her just as his uncle had trained him. She was a shy girl but as she grew she became confident and quick, taking after her father and her mother in equal measure. When he was made First Sword he did not say no this time, feeling he could finally bring honour to the position.

As another decade past he decided it was time to leave his office and a request from across the Narrow Sea from Prince Jaehaerys and a humble request to train his daughter gave him an excuse to do so. With his brothers permission he accepted the job and as months of preparations came to a head he said farewell to his daughter and set sail for Kingslanding, the final piece of news he received before leaving was his daughter being named the first ever female First Sword.

other :
He has a collection of personally crafted swords and trinkets from all over Essos including a stone Dragon Egg he picked up in Asshai. He also has a personal ship, the Black Pearl, named for his only love.​

 

[Whisker]

House Reed of Greywater Watch




"Heart, Hearth, and Harvest"

Name : Jaremy Reed

Titles : Lord of Greywater Watch, Chieftain of the Crannogs, Master of the Rushing Waters

Gender : Male

Age : 19

Height : 5'7

Sexuality : Heterosexual

Marital Status : Unwed

Family :

Parents:
Joran Reed
Lehna Blackmyre

Siblings:
Isana Reed

Heirs:
N/A

Personality :

A calm, quiet lad with a strong rational mind. Jaremy rarely does anything without analyzing it from a half-dozen other viewpoints. He is also adventurous, traveling often during his youth down the rivers on a raft he built himself. Not blessed with the virtues of imposing height or formidable strength, he nonetheless is proud of his heritage. He does not play politics and when he does, his loyalties are to House Stark, like every other Reed before him.

Biography :
​

Jaremy is the eldest child of Joran and Lehna Reed, both of whom were elderly at the time and were overjoyed to have any children at all. He was forever trailing behind his father growing up, learning about the wild bogs of the neck, its mysteries and its dangers, the ancient histories of Westeros, and all the magicks known to their people. He was trained from a very young age to have an excellent grasp of the bronze dagger (a necessity as steel would too often go to rust in the marsh) and the trident, for often survival would depend upon their use. When he was about five years of age, his parents were surprised yet again by another birth, a girl, Isana. Unfortunately, due to age and many other complications, Lehna Reed passed not too long after the birth.

Sometime just shy of his 8th nameday, relations between the crannogmen of the Neck and House Frey once more soured. No one to this day is quite sure what exactly started the border war, but soon enough, the Freys marshaled their levies and invaded the Neck in search of Graywater Watch. Jaremy’s father convened a council consisting of all their vassals, the Fenns of the southen swamps, the Quaggs and the Peats, House Marsh and House Blackmyre to deal with this invasion.

One by one, as they have since the first border war, the men and horses of House Frey began to gradually disappear. Some were done in by the inhospitable land, by the lizard lions hiding in sleep beneath the murky waters. Others still fell by mysterious "diseases" that poisoned the very food and air that they breathed. Only rarely did it ever come to outright skirmish in which the crannogman, hidden beneath the waters and positioned in the trees, would rain javelins and arrows down upon the Frey encampments and seek to pull the heavier armored men into the waters. It was during one of these heavy skirmishes that a young Jaremy killed his first man – the 6th son of Lord Frey with a thrown dagger to the temple. He earned some respect that day and began to gather a small coterie of “brothers” - other sons and apprentices present during that battle.

Not long after that battle, the Freys pulled back their forces and vacated the Neck. It was considered a “victory” but not without high costs. Many crannogman had been lost during the skirmishes to the massive Frey shield walls and circling predators. Jaremy’s own father took a wound in person from the eldest son of Lord Frey that would leave him unable to walk again. Most thought the war was over then, but the crannogmen in hiding among the smallfolk brought word that the Freys were militarizing the crossing and halting all caravans between the Northern Kingdom and the South. Without his father in command, the attempts to thwart the Frey border soldiers failed resulting in further losses. Eventually, orders came down from House Stark demanding a truce and Jaremy, left with no other choice, accepted in his father’s stead.

Following the end of the war, Jaremy and Isana spent hours looking after their father’s wound. During this time, Isana became a notable healer, with much of the crannogmen coming to her for advice and medical attention. But Jaremy soon grew bored of the inaction, and when it became clear that his father was not going to die, he gathered his friends together and adventured beyond the myre. They paddled down the streams, swimming underneath the Crossing in the dead of night, and traveled the Riverlands for the better part of two years.

On his fourteenth nameday, he journeyed north for a time to learn about the customs of the northern people. He returned yet again to find his father white-haired and frailer than ever. The man was dying and the last few weeks were spent in easing his passing. Putting aside his need for adventure, Jaremy has thrown himself into stepping into his father’s shoes, seeking to lead his people with the same respect and dignity.

​

Other :

Spoiler: Primary Weapon

Carries a bronze three-pronged spear and a woven net. The trident is currently unnamed. In addition, he is decent with a shortbow and always carries a dagger in his boot.

Spoiler: Armor

Something similar to this. His cowl bears a faint insignia of the lizard lion.

Spoiler: Lizard Lions

They're not exactly pets, but he has a mated pair of lizard lions residing at Greywater Watch. When fishing, he'll lasso them and have them pull his skiff along in a kind of water chariot.



​

 

[Whisker]

House Marbrand



"Burning Bright"





Name : Lucion Marbrand

Titles : Lord of Ashemark

Gender : Male

Age : 28

Height : 6'4

Sexuality : Heterosexual

Marital Status : Bethany Greenfield - Spouse

Family :

Parents:
Denys Marbrand
Myranda Tarbeck

Siblings:
Lady Johanna Banefort
Lady Alyss Lannister
Lady Lynesse Crakehall
Lady Rohanne Payne
Lady Aelinor Serrett


Heirs:
Drennan Marbrand - 12
Damon Marbrand - 10
Krystine Marbrand - 7

Personality :[/FONT]​

Lord Lucion Marbrand is a vicious fighter, a ruthless tactician, and has a tongue as fiery as the burning tree that decorates his sigil. He is especially proud, quick to take a slight and challenge to a duel. While known to not put up with horseshit, he takes extremely good care of his men and is a popular martial leader. On good days and among people who have his respect, he is loud, boisterous, uncouth and always quick with a barking laugh.

Biography :
​

Lucion was born the only male in a house full of women. His mother had given birth to ten daughters before him and his father was nearly on the brink of despair of ever having a son until the day of his birth. On that day, all the bells in Ashemark were rung, and Lord Denys ensured that all the Western Houses were made aware of his good fortune, as his constant string of daughters had been the butt of many jokes for years.

Though he was spoiled and given freedom to do as he liked, the young Lucion spent much of his time bonding with his father’s soldiers and guardsmen. The one he liked the best of all was his father’s castellan, Keren Banefort. He was disciplined, a ruthless fighter, and a strict teacher – everything that Lucion himself aspired to be. As soon as he was old enough to wield a sword, Lucion began training with the man and learning from him.

This continued until the day he was sent to be fostered alongside his uncle at Casterly Rock. Though he could not say that he enjoyed his time at the Rock, the experience was nevertheless good for him as his uncle at least taught him an element of temperance and maturity.

Over the years after his fostering period, Lucion garnered a reputation as a tourney fighter – though not necessarily a good one. He was thrown out of a melee for gouging out the eye of a hedgeknight and barred from another for threatening to open a Lord’s page from balls to brain for drunken jest about his beard.

When he was around 20, he was betrothed to and married Lady Bethany Greenfield. She wasn’t perhaps the best-looking woman in all Seven Kingdoms, but not homely either, with an ass that made up for all that she lacked in the chest. Happiness was short lived, however, as a plague brought in by migrants from beyond the sea swept through Ashemark. Soon, the 12th child of Lord Denys was now lacking a father and shortened by seven sisters.

He is now the Lord of Ashemark and the father of three. All seemed peaceful there until the sudden death of the King.

Other :

Spoiler: Armor

Armor is steel and banded with silver-grey cloth. Fastened beneath the gorget is a tremendous greatcloak dabbled in mottled orange and red hues. It gives off the appearance of a great blaze roaring behind him.

​

 

[Grammatic]

Full Name : Rycherd Whitehill


Titles : Heir of Highpoint, and Heir to House Whitehill

Age : 20


Family :
Father: Ryon Whitehill
Mother: Selia Whitehill-(Brax)
Younger Brother: Talion Whitehill
Younger Sister: Talia Whitehill


Personality :
Rycherd is often seen as the opposite of his father and younger brothers. Where they are brash and straight forward, Rycherd is calm and calculating. Where they are quick to anger and slow to forget, Rycherd rarely shows his emotions. Where the other members of his family sometimes esque the need for honor, nobility and proper customs, Rycherd embodies them in every aspect of his life. While the cruelty and brutality of his family is still within him, he keeps it tightly locked behind a gate of iron will. He tries his best not to let that side of him emerge, not after what he has done in the past.


Biography :
Rycherd was born seven years after his parents were married. For the longest time, they couldn't conceive a child, and sent discreet requests across the realm, bringing in Maester after Maester, and any other wise man or woman that could help them. Finally, the Whitehills were aided by the Boltons, who were able to bring in a trusted individual. Not long after, Rycherd was born. Right away, he began his education and training to be the heir of House Whitehill. When he was old enough to walk, he was taken on his first hunt. When he was old enough to hold a sword, he was sent to the barracks to train alongside the soldiers. Only when he was toughened up and well bruised from years of harsh training was he allowed to be instructed personally by the master at arms of Highpoint.​

A few years later, when Rycherd was a sixteen, he was leading a hunt with his younger brother. His father was away at a meeting with House Bolton, a regular thing, but Rycherd hadn't attended. It was his brother and sisters name day, and while his father was at the Dreadfort, and his mother was with his sister, he had volunteered for the hunt. During the hunt, Rycherd and his brother Talion were tracking a large deer when a random hunters arrow took hit his brother in the chest. The hunters in question had strayed on Whitehill land without knowing, and apologized profusely. In that moment, Rycherd's cool and calm demeanor snapped. Over his brothers body he butchered each and everyone one of the hunters, leaving their broken bodies where they lay in the forest before they returned to Highpoint.

He would spend the next few years advancing himself. When his father eventually fell ill, he took up the position as regent of Highpoint, though the truth of the matter was largely kept secret.
​

Other :
Through years training and practice, Rycherd has become well trained in both archery and two handed combat. He wields two short swords in combat, one with the crest of House Whitehill, and the other with the crest House Bolton.​

​

 

[Little-Fox]

​

Spoiler: Nest

Nest
Shadow Archer of the Golden Company
​

Full Name: 'Nest'
Title: Archer
Age: Looks to be in his early to mid twenties.
Year of Birth: Unknown.

Appearance
Hair: Black and straight, but usually hidden beneath a hood.
Eyes: Hazel. They change between blue, green and grey depending on mood.
Skin: Pale, though much of it is hidden.
Definitive Marks: If he has any, they are hidden beneath his leathers. Though there are some brothel maids who will tell most that he has a few definitive scars running along his ribs.
Build: Broad-shouldered with some tone and muscle definition, swimmer's build.
Height: 5'7
Weight: 178 lbs.

Personality: Most would consider Nest to be that quiet guy in the corner your mother warns you about, the sort that cares little for your games and even less for the drama that comes with them.

Family: Nest doesn't talk much about his family other than to say that they died in a terrible fire.

Other: Silence is golden and as a sniper, it's even more important to be able to hide, whether that's in plain sight or in whatever surroundings one finds themselves in. He is known for his accuracy and speed, and for finishing the job. He keeps a few daggers hidden on his person for utility and emergency situations while the short sword on his hip is his primary weapon for melee combat. His best friend is his longbow, made of Yew and well taken care of. He always keeps a fletcher's kit on hand with extra bowstrings, feathers, tips, and even odds and ends to help weight arrows among other deviations.

Habits: Occasionally forgets that people expect a verbal response.
Addictions: Cloved cigars
Hobbies: Minor gambling with a preference of cards over dice.
Special weapons: Crescent: A yew long-bow that has been carved with runes from nock to grip to nock.
Pets: None

Skills: Disappearing into a crowd, slight of hand, fletching and bow repairs, writing in runes - the Old Tongue of the First Men.
Domestic Skills: Cooking, minor leather repairs, getting blood out of clothing and other materials.
Weapons Skills: Long bow, dagger, short sword, bola.

Biography: There isn't much known about Nest outside of his skills as a bowman. The little that is known of him outside of it ranges from his kill count to his gambling streak.

​

 

[Little-Fox]

Lady Rowan Royce​

Age: 28
Appearance: Slim-slender
Hair: Long black and wispy.
Eyes: Grey
Skin: Pale
Definitive Marks: None.
Height: 5'5
Weight: 145 lbs

Personality: Rowan can often be seen as cool and aloof with a sharp tongue and a quick wit. She is not quick to anger and is said to enjoy games that provoke the mind rather than simple luck.

Family: House Royce of the Vale has two separate clans, one being the primary branch while the other serves as the 'Cadet' branch. That Cadet branch is the family line from which Rowan hails, the line gifted with the rule of the Gates of the Moon. The Royce's are distant kin to the Starks of Winterfell and the connection is nigh on ancient.

Other: She has a fondness for candles and incense.
Habits: Doodling, singing when alone.
Addictions: None
Hobbies: Games of strategy, long trips away from the Vale.
Special weapons: A pearl handled dagger engraved with House Royce's sigil at the base of the blade.
Pets: None.

Skills: Horseback riding, Reading, Writing, Sketchwork.
Domestic Skills: Basic cooking, sewing, minor first aid (stitches, bandaging, herbal remedies.)
Weapons Skills: Dagger

Biography: At the tender age of thirteen, Lady Rowan left the halls of her family's home in search of her older brother. She has returned to the Gates throughout the years but her stays have never been for long and while her father once begged her to stay, it is now her younger brother who stands as the heir to the Gates in their brother's absence. It's unclear if she ever found her sibling, or if she continues her search to this day.

 

[WaitingCynicism]

Appearance :

Spoiler: Eddard

Full Name : Eddard Rowan



Titles :
Example : Lord


Age :
25



Family :
Does your character have a spouse? Or some siblings? A child or two?
NOTE : A Family Tree is always nice! If you want to make one, use FamilyEcho.


Personality :
A good man, even if a bit shy and very cautious. Usually happy, it's an open secret that he has a relationship with Ser Brynden Oakheart, though he struggles with the death of his wife Alicent giving birth to their child Jeor.


Biography :
Eddard was born in spring 276AC to Jon and Lysa Rowan, the Lord and Lady of Goldengrove. His childhood consisted of martial training along with education in the classroom. He hated being stuck inside when he could be out sparring with the other knights and guards who were his friends. When he was 17, he discovered the pleasures of other men with his squire Brynden Oakheart even though his parents had arranged a wedding for him to Alicent Osgrey. They we'd several years later, but it wouldn't last - Alicent died giving birth to Jeor, their son.

He fell in love with Brynden after Brynden was knighted - Brynden seemed to provide much comfort to the young lord who was obviously struggling. Now that Brynden's older brother Robb has grown ill, the two have travelled to the Council to figure out who is king.


Other :
Does your character have any habits? An addiction? Some hobbies? Any particular set of skills? A pet? A really, really, really nice named sword? Tell us here!

 

[TheFool]

Appearance :


Full Name :
Quhuru

Titles :
Wyrmhand

Age :
29

Family :


Personality :
Boisterous, bold, and bigoted. Quhuru is just that. He is an arbitrary man whose emotions will oft choose his actions. However, he isn’t a complete obnoxious I'm uncultured. As he is a Summer Islander, companionship is a big part of him and he would be lost without those he loves. Unfortunately, Quhuru’s romantic life has been very laid back since he lost his manhood when travelling through Sothoryos.

Biography :
Born on Walano to a farmer and a priestess. Quhuru never had an easy life. His mother died when he was young, thus leaving him in the hands of his father- who wasn’t very fatherly whatsoever. They weren’t the richest family either and oft lived in squalor. His father passed away from plague when Quhuru was eleven,
Thus he became a street urchin. He found himself in Tall Trees Town and joined a gang of pickpockets. However, he wasn’t good at it. And he would be battered and bruised more often than he got to steal something. Things didn’t start looking up until he met with his fraternal uncle, Karaq. Karaq was a pirate with five bastard children, so he did not mind adding another child to his care.

In his adolescence, Quhuru excelled at being a pirate. His uncle would ask him to be the first to board any ships they attacked. Quhuru killed many innocent men. And this had an awful effect on him. He fell into a depression and decided that, as much as he loved his uncle and cousins, his place wasn’t on the sea with a bloodied sword in his hand. So, whilst ported at Zamettar, he left.

He lived in Sothoryos for several years. Fighting for money, which did his depression no good. The harder he tried to escape the constant murder- the more it happened. He realised that ‘killing’ was the only thing he was good at. On a routine mission into the jungles of Sothoryos, Quhuru was ambushed by a wild man. Quhuru was taken captive. He was beaten and starved for weeks by the man, before, finally, his manhood was cut off and used in an ancient ritual. It was all a blur from there, one of which Quhuru barely recalls. But he escaped somehow and found sanctuary in a nearby tribal village.

He came to Essos at the age of two and twenty. Here, he gave up the life of a sellsword and became a household guard for a Tyroshi lordling. Quhuru started to feel better. His life was kind. However, there was a lust in his blood that longed for more. Begged him to return to his old way.
And he did.

He joined The Golden Company and quickly rose through the ranks to become one of their top lieutenants. His depression slowly crept back, but he was ‘saved’ when he met Mala. Mala was a peer of his who was gifted in medicine. She would patch up every member of The Golden Company. She saved many a life. One of those lives being Quhuru. He was injured, body and soul. But she helped him.

Presently, Quhuru and Mala are still with The Golden Company. They talk of leaving to go and settle down with all their gold and glory. But-
Quhuru wants to do one last job. One last mission that can sate his sword. Before FINALLY putting it all in the past.

Other :
Quhuru got his nickname, ‘Wyrmhand’, when he was on a mission for The Golden Company hunting Firewyrms in Old Valyria. He fought one and lived. But, he soon realised he had contracted greyscale from the beast. His hand quickly became scaled. Fortunately, he was saved by a red priest in Volantis. He no longer has greyscale, however his hand will never heal.

He is terrible at all things stealth. He is not light footed whatsoever, and everything about him is just… loud.

Quhuru cannot write. He did learn to read a little bit, but he struggles with it. The words always perplex his mind.

 

[TheFool]

Appearance :


Full Name :
Orson Redfort

Titles :
Lord Of Redfort
Ser
The Ass

Age :
40

Family :


Personality :
While he is sometimes stubborn and aloof, Orson Redfort means well. He is chivalrous, even though the only woman he has ever really known was his mother. He is brave, but soft at heart. Whenever he sees someone in need of his help- he cannot say ‘no’. He will not say ‘no’. He grew up hearing of heroes and knights so he strives to be like the men in those stories. He wants to bring good to Westeros, even if sometimes he thinks The Kingdoms don’t deserve it.

Biography :
Orson’s childhood is a plain one. He grew up in Redfort without a father figure, due to the fact that he died before Orson’s birth. He was a quiet but kind boy. He wasn’t very good in his studies- but he was skilled at swordplay. His mother, Lady Ryella, would tell him tales of Symeon Star-Eyes and Florian The Fool and others from that age, thus leading to Orson aspiring to be a knight who helped anyone and everyone.

His mother always made sure Orson was gentlemanly and mannerly, but when he turned thirteen… things changed. Orson went through a phase of rebellion. He hung around with the wrong people and he would stay out at all hours doing gods knows what.

At fifteen, he ran away from Redfort. Only to return a year later with a bastard boy he called his own. With welcoming arms, Ryella let her son and grandson in. Orson, together with his mother, raised the bastard boy in hopes that he would end up as fine a man as himself.

At seventeen, Orson left Redfort again to visit King’s Landing for a tourney. While he didn’t win anything, many were impressed with him. King Aegon especially. Orson squired for King Aegon for a bit before he was finally knighted.
Orson’s dream had become a reality. He travelled the realms as a wandering knight for a few years before he got word that his mother had passed. And that he was now Lord Of Redfort.

In his first few years of rulership, he made some ballsy decisions. Many an advisor quit, cursing him out as a fool. He earned the nickname ‘Orson The Ass’ from his smallfolk. However, he soon tried to wisen up and, since then, his leadership skills have improved substantially. Though he is still a bit of a ditz.

He currently resides in Redfort with Osric. King Aegon’s recent demise was a punch to a gut. And the happenings at Harrenhal were even more so- when Lord Rosby was slain. Orson is now on his way to The Eyrie to meet with The Arryns and the one true king of The Seven Kingdoms.

Other :
Orson never married, nor had another child. As, even though he would help one in a second, he has a crippling anxiety of women. He is his most sociable when he is around men. Though he longs for a loving woman by his side.

Age has sullied him and he is no longer as great a swordsman as he was in his youth He is also quite out of shape. A quick jog around his bedchamber would leave him in sweat.

Orson does not partake in alcohol.

He can only hear out of one ear after an injury he sustained in his days as a hedge knight.

 

[TheFool]

Appearance :


Full Name :
Florys Fossoway

Titles :
Lady Of Cider Hall
The Fat

Age :
51

Family :



Personality :
An obsessive woman who lives a life of envy and greed. Florys The Fat has earned her nickname, and rightfully so. She is a gluttonous pig who cannot keep her hands off any plate of cake. She also cannot go without a husband for more than a week, even though she is easily bored of them when they are too attached. She is infatuated with being beautiful. Thus she despises any woman who may give her competition. And those women are plentiful.

Biography :
Born the eldest child to Steffon Fossoway and Falia Merryweather, Florys Fossoway was always a spoilt brat. She would pull her sisters’ hair, she would play cruel pranks on the servants at Cider Hall, and not even the smallfolk were safe from her. Many complained about her behaviour- but Steffon and Falia never listened. To them, she was their perfect little girl.

And she was soon their ONLY little girl. The years went by and the daughters of Steffon and Falia began to die. Taena died choking on her food. Little Lia died when she accidentally smacked her head against the fireplace. Talia died shortly after childbirth. They died, leaving Florys alone. Soon thereafter Lord Steffon even passed away leaving his lordship to his daughter. Florys, only twenty, was the Lady Of Cider Hall.

She married immediately after taking her father’s role as leader. Alan Serry was a boy she was smitten with from a young age. They married for love. But that love did not last. Alan rode his horse off a cliff whilst out hunting, leaving Florys a widow. The widow status was quickly thrown aside, though, when she remarried to Ser Martyn Appleton. They got along rather well, even though Martyn was a bumbling fool. They had three children together before Florys got bored.

It wasn’t just Florys’ belly that was fattening, her heart was as well. She longed for more. And she got more in the form of Ser Martyn’s brother Nyles. Their affair was long and erotic. However, it came to and end when Martyn died and Florys remarried ( again ) to Nyles. Several weeks after their wedding ceremony, their love turned to hatred. Through several years and several more children-
Florys despised her husband. He was the worst thing to ever happen to her.

Thankfully, he died too.

Leaving Florys alone with her six children. She remained alone for years. The only thing on her mind was whether or not she could find another love. She prayed it’d be a man as gallant as her liege lord, Baelor Tyrell. But that man never came.
In his place was a Tyroshi nobleman. A filth ridden man. Something about him, though, got Florys riled up and they married.

Now, Florys sits at Cider Hall. A war on the rise. She’s bored again. She doesn’t only want a new lover, no, she wants more than that. She wants a man like no other man. A champion of the good. She wants Baelor Tyrell.

Other :
Florys hates cats.

While she is completely talentless in most areas that matter, she does have a certain cunning to her when it comes to political maneuvering and strategy.

Florys starred in many mummer plays at Cider Hall when she was a girl. Thus, she is a good actress. She can even cry on command and uses this to her advantage.

Her breath usually smells due to the three rotting teeth she sports.

 

[ailurophile]

name viola fossoway
title lady
age 19
family see fossoway family tree
personality there are two sides to viola, the more pleasant one she was born with, and the other developed over time. at heart, viola is a sweet girl, the sort who tries to tend to wounded animals and always has a smile on her face. her kind nature makes her popular amongst the people she meets, and she seems to be a very trustworthy young woman. it is easy to capture her heart, although like her mother, her affection is fleeting and she seems to lose interest quite quickly in some cases. on a slightly darker note, although viola is predominantly benevolent, she has a sarcastic/cold streak running through her. sometimes when she is speaking to somebody and is smiling on the outside, she's ripping them to shreds on the inside. in an argument, her sharp tongue and quick wit serve her well.
backstory viola is the youngest daughter of lady florys fossoway. though she adores her brothers and half brothers dearly, viola and her mother have never quite gotten along, and seem to be engaged in an extensive feud. so far, viola has been 'in love' countless times, from a stableboy who complimented her hair once, to almost any lord who smiles at her. from that perspective, she really is a silly little thing. aside from the fleeting longing and the hatred of her mother, viola has done little with her life aside from sit at cider hall.
other boredom led viola to take an interest in whatever was happening around her, whether that was archery or sword fighting, or painting, or singing, or acting. she's tried out many hobbies but has settled on singing as her favourite, though she still finds sword fighting particularly interesting.

 

[TheFool]

Appearance :


Full Name :
Matthos

Titles :
Of Braavos
Red Priest

Age :
32

Family :


Personality :
A beacon of charisma and enlightenment. Matthos is shrouded in mystery. No one knows what he’s thinking, or where exactly he came from. But he has this… presence. When you see him, you can’t help but want to believe the words that leave his lips.

Biography :
Not much is known of Matthos. He was born in Braavos to a fisherman and a noble’s bastard. He lived there for his entire childhood before he and his sister, found themselves in Volantis. It was there that they were both taken in by the congregates of a Red Temple.

When he was verging on adulthood, Matthos travelled to Asshai- where he spent several years. He has never told anyone what happened to him in The Shadowlands.

He came back to Volantis for a time before deciding that he was needed elsewhere. So he went west. He landed in Planky Town and a series of events led him to living with Lord Steffon Dayne and his wife, Arianne.

Matthos and Arianne grew very close. They would keep eachother company almost every day. Soon, Arianne fell pregnant. Matthos was overjoyed for her and Steffon and made it his mission to help her so that the babe would be born healthy.
But,
The Maester at Starfall was heavily against Matthos and forbid that he even touch Arianne’s belly.

When Arianne passed, Matthos left Starfall for a few days to mourn. He returned with a following of people. He already had several companions with him who hailed from Essos. But these new ‘children’ were Westerosi.

Matthos stood by Steffon’s side through an excruciatingly hard time. And he continues to stand by him. However, Matthos has an agenda. He wants to paint Westeros red.

Other :
His favourite colour is red.

Matthos is not trained in any sort of weaponry.

He will fuck anything as long as his Lord Of Light wills it.