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

[Lingua Frankly Not]

Criston Wylde

​

Titles
Lord of Rain House

Age
22. Born on the third day of the first moon of 277AC.

Family

​

Personality
When Criston Wylde says he is going to get something done, he does it. Loyalty is important to Criston, and though he can become frustrated and sullen he is neither malicious nor conceited. Eloquent but reserved about his feelings, Criston has some difficulty forging close relationships with most others. Strength in Turmoil. The words of House Wylde. Criston determined himself to exemplify those words. He would be strong, even if he was no Knight. In Criston Wylde Rain House has found a reliable Lord. He is calm under pressure, reliable when approached with conflict, and sharp enough to see solutions where others might not.


Biography
Criston Wylde was born the only son, and indeed only child, of the already middle-aged Lord Wylde and his younger wife. There was stability in this, at least; what was expected of him was always clearly laid out, and though Criston did not excell at every topic thrown upon a young Lord, he did take well to the structure of his life and the studies of history, of politics, and of mathematics. Though he showed little promise of becoming a prodigal warrior, it was during these early years that Criston grew a love of archery. It was a talent his father excelled at and it was one he wished to as well. Often he was brought along on hunts in the Rainwood with his father, some men-at-arms, and their dogs, and it was during one of these hunts that Criston witnessed the death of his father. The man was thrown from his startled horse as a wild boar charged past and infront of the mount, and Criston can remember the way that his father's neck turned and snapped against a tree trunk. He didn't die that day, but neither did he live past it. The next few weeks of watching his father deteriorate in a bed, unable to awake from his catatonic slumber... those images trouble him to this day.

Then after raised an only child with the responsibility of lordship thrown upon him at a rather young age, mitigated though it was through the regency of his uncle, Criston was forced early to cast aside any insecurities and to meet the demands of his station -- his uncle would accept no less, and in lieu of another father figure Criston was desperate to earn his uncle's approval. Lord Regent Gladden Wylde was not, however, the only figure that leveraged their station for influence on the young and impressionable Criston; so too did his mother, who had then become a lush drunk following the death of her husband, and many other adults within Rain House's walls and without. Criston did not take well to all of these competing voices, though he did in that time find a calming voice in Rain House's resident Septon. The Septon provided him guidance in ways that neither his uncle nor mother, nor men-at-arms could, and there were many times that Criston arrived to the Sept with doubt on his mind and left with peace, instead.

[will add more]

Other
In keeping with his father and his father's father before him, Criston continues the tradition of keeping Rainwood Spotted Curs. This breed of dog works best in trios, have natural instincts to catch wild hogs, and have webbed feet ideal for the muddy local terrain. Criston keeps three: Shireen, Ambrose, and Bella. Bella has had puppies not two moons ago which Criston is quite happy about, and will proudly show to anyone willing to indulge him.

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

This is NOT my character. This character was originally created and played by myst.erion . I'm simply taking control of her character as to not let her go to waste.
Appearance :

Larah takes on a lot more of her father's traits thwn her mother's. Her hair is her father's black, her eyes were a soft, stormy grey, and she is taller than most of her sisters.

Full Name :
Larah Caterine Stark


Titles :
Lady


Age :
19, born in 280


Family :
Bryce Stark: Father
Amelia Forrester Stark: Mother
Brandon Stark: Uncle
Benjen Stark: Uncle by marriage
Theon Rikard Stark: Older Brother
Willow Stark: Older Sister
Lyanna Stark: Younger Sister
Aregelle Stark: Younger Sister
Lana Mormont Stark: Sister-in-law



Personality :
Larah is a kind and caring woman, possibly the kindest of the Stark's. She always seeks to help others, and despises selfishness and cruelty. She is also a very pious woman, commonly taking walks in the Godwoods to pray. Her mother is a role model to her, and she wishes she had her mother's strength. Her father is also a source of comfort for her, and she's always been a Daddy's girl.


Biography :
Born the third child of the Stark's, Larah was always a bright and happy girl. She enjoyed walking through the Godwoods, looking at all the trees and everything. She was closest to her brother in terms of siblings, and enjoyed being around him and watching him practice archery. When she was about fifteen or so, she met a Snow lad by the name of Addam. The two soon fell in love, starting a love affair that's only now come to light. She loves Addam with all her heart, and would never leave him for anything. She doesn't care that he's a bastard, or that he kind of smells. He's her moon and stars, and wants nothing more than to be with him and her family.


Other :
She is pretty decent with the bow, though not a prodigy or anything. She likes to stay at Addam's mother's cabin, as it's very close to the Godwoods.​

 

[Elucid]

.

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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Rickon Umber

Lord Of Last Hearth

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[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11parent][div class=fyuri11content]

Spoiler: Family Tree: Umber

Title:
Lord Of Last Hearth
Age:
46
Personality:
One could possibly describe Rickon as being a jovial man, ever since he was a kid he’d been the troublemaker, the boy that couldn’t stay still in one place. Instead of training with the master-at-arms or reading about the great houses with the maester, most of Rickon’s time was spent mucking about with the lowborn boys or as he grew older drinking and whoring.

Rickon hasn’t really stood for anything in his life, his entire character being an attempt to besmirch his father, but whatever his faults there is a cunning to the man.

Biography:
Born to the illustrious Torreg Umber, a man that never seized to impress upon his son the fact that he’d fought in a war, it sometimes felt as if that was all he talked about. That, and killing wildlings. He and his father never had a real connection, they were almost completely different people. It didn’t help that the man took to his daughter more than he did to the son.

Left to his own vices, Rickon became somewhat of a black sheep for the family, doing all the things that a spoilt noble lord would do. But, it wasn’t as if he didn’t learn a lot from his nights out drinking, he’d come to know how the common folk thought, how they spoke and what made them loyal.

Despite his disdain for his father, Rickon still cared for the man, he thought he was a prick but he didn’t deserve to die in that way. To be stabbed at meeting by a rival lord right under Paramount’s roof, it was an insult to the man’s memory. An insult Rickon would intend to be repaid.

Other:
It is rumoured that Rickon Umber only has half of his cock, as a whore bit off the tip of his dick during a visit to a brothel in White Harbour, leading to the unfortunate nickname 'Half-Dick.' Lord Umber has neither confirmed nor denied these allegations.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code/design by Fable [/div]

 

[ailurophile]

i thought i should put something up before the post
i present nymeria, aka number ten
suck it fordee​

 

[Whisker]

House Harlaw

"Reap Havoc, Reap Devastation"

Name : Sigmund "Sharkslayer" Harlaw

Titles : Lord of Harlaw, Lord of Ten Towers, Head of House Harlaw

Gender : Male

Age : 44

Height : 6'2

Marital Status : Married - Mya Drumm

Family :

Parents: Boras Harlaw x Lydia Kenning

Spouse: Mya Drumm

Salt Wives: "Red Cheek" Rosy, Temma, Valera of Lys

Sons:

Devyn Harlaw - 29

Spoiler: Devyn

Merryk Harlaw -28

Spoiler: Merryk

Horras Harlaw -24

Spoiler: Horras

Daughters:

Astrid Harlaw - 22

Spoiler: Astrid

Bastards:

Donnar Pyke -22

Spoiler: Donnar

Rennifer Pyke - 17

Spoiler: Renn

Wylla Pyke - 19

Spoiler: Wylla

Personality: Wip

Biography : WIP

Other : WIP​

 

[TheAncientCelt]

House Magnar

Spoiler

Appearance :

Full Name :
Styr Magnar

Titles :
Magnar of Kingshouse
The Magnar
Magnar of Skagos
Magnar of the Shivering Sea
Magnar of Beasts and Men


Age :
48
Born 251


Family :

Personality :
Styr is a proud man with a wonderful sense of humor, fond of japes and humor of any kind, though particularly dark. Not all too surprising, as winter in Skagos requires a certain morbid sense of humor to cope with. As a man of the North, Styr isn't shy to use violence when it comes to settling disputes, but against kin (in the exception of lawbreakers) the Magnar will rarely deliver permanent injuries. In matters of enforcing the law on those he commands, Styr is strict, but not without mercy. Those who are rare about causing trouble will not receive Magnar's full fury, that cannot be said for habitual offenders. Styr is against sending any man to the Night's Watch, viewing it as an eye sore above all other things, foreigners who do not belong in the North. The most defining trait about Styr is how the Magnar embraces the customs of his people and celebrates the old ways. Be it in rituals or celebrations, the Old Gods are properly honored, according to the traditions of the Skagosi.

Illiterate, Styr is not a dull man, though the markings on parchment are nothing but ink symbols to the lord. When it comes to leisure activites, Styr is accomplished sailor, at least for the Skagosi, Styr's hunted small whales off the coast of his island for much of his life, one of the best ways to both feed his House and to find something of greater value to trade to the other Northerners and the occasional trader from the south. Occasionally, the Skagosi will hunt Beyond the Wall if it seems like his own land is growing too scarce, the lawless lands above being easier to prey on then getting into a dispute with a lord for hunting on his property. His views on the Wildlings are not too different from most criminals. They are nothing but rapists and savages who would skin his family alive with no more incentive than an hour of entertainment. In the off chance that any Wildling finds themselves in Styr's territory, he often gives them up to the Old Gods.

Biography :

Styr has been lord since he was 8, his father sent to the Night's Watch after Calon Stark charged him with treachery towards the Stark family. Magnar Magnar had been open about his practices, including human sacrifices to the Old Gods and luring in sailors to his island. Magnar Magnar would be executed two years later, trying to desert the Watch.

Magnar almost died three times in his life. The first was when he was 16 and courting his first wife, Daena Snow. Promising to kill a bear for her, Styr proceeded to engage a particularly small one and tried to wrestle it to the ground. His life was barely saved after the bear bit into his right forearm. Those nearby were quick to send the bear running off with their superior numbers.

The second time Styr almost died was at sea. The then 20+ lord of Kingshall had taken to his ship, intending to sail towards White Harbor when he was caught in a storm. The ship rocked and nearly tossed itself into the sea, before the ships captain steered them towards the coast, where they beached it for ten days and waited for the ocean to calm itself.

The last time Styr almost died was when he challenged a yeoman to battle, demanding said yeoman's wife. In it, the Magnar nearly lost his head twice as the older man swung an axe with unmatched ferocity. Downed once by a club to the face, Styr barely pulled away with his life after a rather dishonorable shot to the groin and then a crushing blow to the yeoman's throat.

Old and with only bastards and a few dead peasant-wives to his name, Styr took Mordane Dustin as his wife at the age of 43. An unusual pairing, to say the least, Styr took to the woman quickly. She was elegant, beautiful and fiery when it came to words. The two were opposites, with Mordane running south to escape the North and Styr thinking the North wasn't North enough, yet when it came to love, Styr relented. His wooden fortress resembled something further south than Moat Cailin in no time, with a bold bard and a few fanciful tapestries adorning his walls. Through his wife and her romance with a Southron knight, Styr learned of new weapons that were foreign to his shores. Looking at pictures of menacing spears with angled hooks and edges, Magnar once more sailed to White Harbor and found a smith to make him a halberd.

Other :

Styr's a very tall man, approximately 6'9" tall (210.74 cm) with a burly body matching the rumors of the Skagosi.

Styr uses his left hand, though he wasn't born that way. His right hand is weaker than the left after the bear wrestling incident.

 

[Hypnos]

Full Name: Arrana Ryswell née Umber
Titles: Dowager Lady of the Rills
Age: 42
Family:

Personality: Temperament and prone to bouts of anger, Arrana is a very dominant figure, perhaps to compensate for the shy and timid nature of her youth. Although she cares for her family, she is fairly selfish in that regard, and places herself, and those that are close to her, far above any other person, or even the greater good.

Biography: The eldest daughter and second child of Lord Toregg Umber and Lady Lyarra Flint, Arrana Umber had an unfortunate childhood. Like her great ancestors of the past, Arrana possesed the immense height and powerful physique that had made House Umber famous within the North, and whilst on a man these characteristics made an impressive warrior or a stout soldier, on a woman they only served to harm her prospects of a potential future marriage. This did little to help her self confidence, and during her younger years, Arrana was a fairly shy girl, who shut herself away from many of the other girls of her age for fear of being mocked for her height or appearance. She grew out of this habit with age however.

The one man who would never cease to lift her spirits was her father, Lord Toregg, with whom she had a very close relationship. Whilst Toregg’s eldest Rickon was a bit of a disaster, always going out drinking and whoring against his father’s wishes, Arrana was always the more level-headed of two, and therefore the one who recieved more of their father’s attention. As the years went on, and Rickon displayed a great disdain for his father’s wishes, Lord Toregg began to treat his daughter as almost a second heir to the Last Hearth and gave her lessons which would ordinarily be reserved only for the eldest son. This was how Arrana learned to rule, and whilst she knew that in truth she would never be given the opportunity to show off this talent, since she already had two brothers, it did a great deal to help with her confidence and allowed her to develop a more dominant personality.

Whilst she never fully grew into her size, and her prospects were few and far between, Arrana did manage to attract two notable suitors: the brothers Ryswell: Ted and Walt. At first, the two brothers stood for everything that she was against, her father had always taught her to have a certain level of hatred for the south, and southern customs, yet the pair had been warded in the Crag with the family of their grandmother, and had been named knights in the light of the seven, participating in many southern jousts, tournaments, and other non-northern traditions. Needless to say it was a hard sell, but the Ryswell were handsome and charming, and gave Arrana the attention from men that she had never received as a child. She was smitten within only a few months of courtship, and at the age of twenty and three, she was wed to Ted Ryswell, heir to the Rills.

Their marriage was happy, very happy, and whilst Ted still liked to spend a lot of his time in the south, being an avid fan of the joust, he always found time for his wife. At first, their only struggle was having a child, though eventually they overcame that hurdle, and after six years of marriage, Roose Ryswell was born. Arrana was never happier than during this period, during which she had a safe home and a loving family, though like all good things, it was not made to last.

Upon the death of her good father, Lord Beron Ryswell, and Ted’s ascension to the Lordship of the Rills, the new Lord Ryswell’s trips to the south became less frequent, as he had to attend to his duties in the North, though that did not mean they stopped all together. Every year, Ted would make the same journey south of the neck to participate in the joust that celebrated the name day of Princess Elaena Targaryen in King’s Landing, he would never win, but he’d always achieve at least moderate success, and he’d bring back exotic gifts for his wife and son. One year however, Ted would not return.

Arrana would learn later that he’d been struck in the heart by a lance belonging to a minor noble from the Riverlands, though she’d never learn the name of the man who’d killed her husband. She was distraught, wearing black in mourning for the better part of two years. This was when she would remember her father’s lessons. ‘Don’t trust the southerners.’

Following Ted’s death, Arrana would assume the regency of the Rills, as was customary, though she had a hard time ruling alone, family had been everything to her, and now her husband was dead. Solace came in the form of only one thing: her good brother. Walt Ryswell had been her husbands twin, and the two looked almost identical. It had been Walt who had returned Ted’s bones back to the Rills for a proper burial, and during a moment of weakness, Arrana had taken him to bed. At first it had only been once, then it had been twice, then it became a regular occurance. They managed to keep things a secret, even from the servants and other inhabitants of the Rills. It felt wrong, sleeping with her husband’s brother, a man who had now been married thrice and had children of his own. Arrana didn’t care.

She continued the regency of the Rills for many years, with her son’s minority almost reaching its conclusion. When Lord Bryce Stark called for his lords and ladies to attend him at Winterfell, the Rills would answer, though Arrana herself would not personally be present. It would be Walt who would lead the Ryswell men down south, or at least that had been the initial plan, in truth it would be Walt who would witness the murder of Arrana’s father at the hands of a traitor. Another member of Arrana’s family: dead.

Other: Due to her Umber blood Arrana towers over most women, and a great deal of men, she is also fairly stocky and physically powerful, lacking a great deal of the grace and delicacy of most noble ladies. Despite this, she has never even considered the prospect of learning to fight, and finds the idea of a woman warrior childish and barbaric.

 

[idalie]

5'6"//130 lbs

Full Name:
Mariah Karstark

Titles:
Lady Karstark

Age:
31, Born 268 AC

Family:
Husband - Lord Torrhen Karstark High Moon
Son - Bryce Karstark (13)
Daughter - Lyanna Karstark (11)
Daughter - Berena Karstark (4)

Personality:
Mariah Karstark is an upstanding woman of moral and motherly strength, with a fierce love for both her children and husband. While she doesn't take lightly to being talked down to and can appear rather stone-faced, Mariah understands her position in both household and society, acting as a supportive and strongwilled spouse with a sharp mind for social interaction compared to Torrhen's somewhat more reserved nature. Whilst she admires the strength of women who have made achievements through swordsmanship and high office, Mariah has made herself a comfortable life amongst children and marriage, enjoying the simpler things such as embroidery and peace of mind. A kind woman no doubt, with a penchant for helping those in need when she believes it to be necessary, and her inability to scold children without feeling terrible enough that afterward, she can't help but overcompensate with affection.

Biography:
The eldest daughter of House Glover, Mariah was constantly reminded throughout her life that the only opportunity she had for a future worth living, was to marry well. And marry well she did, learning the duties of a wife to marry no other than Torrhen Karstark. During awkward beginnings and fumbled consummation, it became clear that Karstark was anything but a gentleman in the courtly sense. He was prone to drink and brawling, rowdy and bordering on barbaric for a man of noble birth -- not if Mariah had anything to say about it. It took some years, a fair few confrontations and the birth of their first son before assuming the position of Lord that Torrhen changed his attitude and behaviour for the sake of maturity. If not still indulging in the occasional brawl, Mariah has accepted that some things may never change even when lecturing him over injuries for the sake of showing concern.

With the difficult birth of their daughter Lyanna, Mariah had trouble conceiving again until the surprise of Berena, her youngest child who was also touched by fire. Lady Karstark believed it to be a sign that troubles had passed for the meantime, and perhaps she'd of been right. Being a representative of both houses, however, Mariah believes that another son is in order. Although she accepts the bastard of Torrhen's teenage affair, she finds herself worried over the question of her own ability to bear male children considering the current ratio. Whilst she sympathises with Rodrik, Mariah can't help but feel suspicious of his motives now he's grown and his attitude toward Bryce, her own child.

Other:
n/a​

 

[Shadowborn Omen]

Appearance :

Ser Gladden of House Wylde

Age :
49


Family :

Personality :
Ser Gladden Wylde is a calculated, cold, and crude man. He likes things to be orderly and predictable, though he's not particularly a tidy person. Whether it be his chambers or a tent at camp, there are often items and papers scattered all about in Gladden's room. To most it'd seem as though they were just randomly strewn apart, but they were organized in Gladden's way. He tries to be purely logical in everything he does, almost to a fault. He tries to avoid anything he can't approach with facts and logical reasoning.
Gladden Wylde is a dependable soul, and he is fiercely loyal to those who he thinks are worthy of it. He is a strong man, and can always be counted on to do what he says he will do.
However, Gladden has also been described as quite blunt and crude. He isn't one to take others emotion into account when speaking his mind, and he makes that abundantly clear. Those he trusts and admires may have the pleasure of having Gladden speak as equals, but those Gladden looks down on are sure to know how he thinks of them.


Biography :
WIP

 

[Archon]

Full Name :
Arthur Tarth

Titles :
Lord of Evenfall Hall, Ser

Age :
28

Family

Personality :
Best described as a jack-of-all-trades and master of none, Arthur has always been a charismatic and boisterous individual with a knack for knightly pursuits such as swordplay and jousting. Ever the Paramount noble, Arthur possesses a good heart and a good head, with the intelligence and wit needed to traverse the rocky world of politics and the marshal prowess to stand out on the battlefield. Yet despite this, he isn't a man who'll ever make the history books, he has no outstanding gifts are qualities that make him notable to the wider world outside of the respect garnered from being what the Maiden's may consider a true Knight.

Outside of his Knightly mantle, Arthur is a determined and honourable force, one who lacks both ambition and purpose. Without the skill to match the greats in the Tournament scene nor the talent to find himself as a prominent adviser, many of his days are spent neglecting his duties in favour of less savoury deeds, such as the regular attendance of various brothels and the consumption of copious amounts of alcohol. This is a result of his craving for adventure and excitement, a lustfulness that remains unsated. However despite these flaws, he is a trustworthy and loyal confidante, who'd sacrifice all his joy for the success of his House and his people.

Biography :
A dull life, Arthur's great climb to heroism and impressive feats of legend are somewhat non-existent. Instead, he was born to a loving mother and father alongside his older sister, Alysanne, the duo learned of their duties together, suffering long hours of arduous torment through books on everything from etiquette to marriage, throwing themselves from the battlements was an often considered alternative due to the sheer talent for monotone boredom the Maester Melross was notorious for. Alysanne often sought escape in the gossips and tribulations of her friends, whilst Arthur sought to ride and fight, conjuring great beasts and dragons to fell from his mighty steed. Even with age, their routine never faltered, Arthur's routine began to make him grow stronger and faster, and Alysanne adapted true beauty. Eventually, their habits grew distance and whilst Alysanne engrossed herself in the duties of a "proper" Lady Arthur continued to aspire to Knighthood, a typical family of little extraordinaire.

However, despite taking part in various Tournaments from the age of 16 onward, Arthur's greatest accomplishment by the age of 22 was the victory of a single Regional Tournament in the Stormlands, whilst nothing to scoff at, all the training and dedication in the world was proof that without raw prodigious talent his name would never make the book of heroes. When he was 24, a horrendous sickness broke out in the castle, a result of neglected meat somehow finding its way into a feast. Arthur was thankfully absent from the feast, as was Alysanne, but after several nights of suffering in feverish agony both Lord and Lady Tarth passed peacefully in their sleep, poison was at first suspected but the matter was soon proven to be little more than an unfortunate accident. Ascended to Lordship, Arthur quickly adopted his duties of rulership, doing the best he could for the realm and for the people. Today, in the wake of the war, he works with the Stormlander Lords to combat the Reach Invasion.
. Other :
Sword made out of Sapphires called Excalibur

Appearance :

Full Name :
Edmund "One-Eye" Royce

Titles :
Lord of Runestone, Ser,

Age :
74

Family :
wip

Personality :
A highly cunning man of mighty ambition, Lord Edmund Royce has cemented his reputation as a brutally intelligent schemer and battlefield commander, whilst he may lack the raw talent of most, he has experience, grit, and a sharp unwavering mind. Inspirational, authoritative, and utterly terrifying, his name commands respect and hatred both. His role in the elimination of the Mountain Clans was no small part, but despite his long years in the Vale there's not a soul alive who wouldn't question his loyalty. Lord Edmund has one goal, and one goal only. "What is best for House Royce?" This is a man who'd sell his own son if it would better his own power, a moral compass does not exist.

Even with his reputation as an opportunistic scoundrel, Edmund's mannerisms may be surprising to some. He is well spoken and intelligent, possessing a tongue of silver and breath filled with fire, his self-discipline whilst admirable is only rivaled by his dark temper. Maybe in his youth, Edmund was a gentler soul, but all that is left in the old Lord is ambition and bitterness, the desperate effort of an old man climbing his final tree.

Biography :
wip

Other :

Appearance :

Full Name :
Myrmella Froststep

Titles :

Age :
25

Family :
N/A

Personality :
Eager and determined, Mymella is a battle-hardened veteran of the beating suns of Slaver's Bay and the assaulting winters Beyond the Wall, she is often crude and sarcastic in a brutal and murderous manner, with values for gold and honor in equal measure, her sense of adventure is nothing short of legendary which is only boosted by the scope of the world she has already visited. Despite her rugged nature, Myrmella is both loyal and street-smart due to an innate ability to read others, but lacks the common academic skills most possess. Tempered by past experiences, she is untrustworthy and cold to those she does not know, and possesses a hateful disposition towards the nobility of Westeros.

Biography :
With no name nor fancy titles, the land Beyond the Wall is one built around the savagery and unbridled raw instinct for self-preservation. Myrmella was born to a huntress and warrior of the Ice River Clans, the early years of her life were spent in an uneasy peace, with no major threat outside that of winter itself, the Ice River Clans at the time were embroiled in a feud with the Thenns, which due to the strength of both factions never extended past brief skirmishing. As soon as she came of appropriate age, Myrmella's days were spent in training with her father, after he discovered her affinity for wielding the spear was greater than that of the bow. Despite the affection of her parents, their love was often overshadowed by the cruel conditions in which they wrestled with, and through no fault of their own Myrmella began to drift away from the two overtime. And with age, came an increase to talent and experience, in her 16th year Myrmella found herself wrapped in her first Thenn-skirmish, where with use of agility and grace she was able to fight off three Thenn attackers to the view of most of her clan-mates.

Having tasted a parchment of glory, Myrmella's lust for bloodshed and fame among her clan grew, where she found herself as a regular in raids and skirmishes, until at the age of 19 an ambition scheme to raid south of the wall went awry, trapped in hostile territory the raiding party was intercepted returning from their raid by a Northern patrol party, vastly outmatched and disorganized the raiders were cut down and Myrmella's will to live allowed her flight into a nearby forest, where she hid until the way was clear of threats. Thinking it would be safe skirting the coast, she was ambushed abruptly by a ragtag band of clansmen, now bound and imprisoned, days of wallowing away and barely surviving where ended when a short exchange of coin later saw the wildling abandoned on a strange Slaving Ship, echoing with familiar wails of despair.

Weeks maybe months, later, Myrmella awakened within a foreign sun-beaten city where she was thrown into strange cells and fed relatively well for several weeks. The purpose of her treatment soon became clear, as her sentence was death through combat, the people of Meereen demanded their sport. Fighting tooth and claw, driven on by an overwhelming desire to live, Myrmella was able to overcome and dispatch of various opponents whom she knew nothing about, everything from how they thought to how they looked was alien, yet she could do little more than accept the absurdity of her fate. After a string of victories, Myrmella was placed in the Pit alongside 13 others in a grand battle royale to determine the ultimate champion. Early on, she found herself crossing weapons with her equal, both fighters driving each other to the limit. A Westerosi, no less. Acknowledging their odds, the two joined forces and executed their opposition with impunity. The Pits demanded a victor and their battle resumed in earnest, yet through a stroke of luck for both, exhaustion and sickness had set in long before a killing blow, the fatigue of the former melee sapping their will to continue. The fight ended in a draw.

Wanting a change of face for their fighting pits, Myrmella and a batch of fighters were all sold off the next day to a Slaving Ship bound to New Ghis. Mid-voyage, the ship was assailed by a Pirate vessel, and the Slavers, clearly outclassed began to panic. Once more driven by survival Myrmella appealed to the Slaver's fear and with no other choice they complied. A grave mistake. The majority of the fighters immediately struck out, hitting the ship in a blitz of blood and bones, the pirates boarded a massacre and found their numbers soon piling among the dead, in the aftermath of the bloodshed, a solemn silence led the former-Slaves to the coast and to freedom. There, she paired up with her former adversary from the pits and together the duo began an uneasy alliance as mercenaries, their cooperation has since bloomed into friendship and the two have returned to Westeros in light of the outbreak of wars in search of work.
Other :

Appearance:

Full Name :
Jeyne Tarly

Titles :
Lady,

Age :

Family :

Personality :
Blessed with a fiery heart, and a noble temperament, Jeyne Tarly is as knightly and valiant as any man when sheathed in a thick casing of deceptive metal, her age betrays a certain intelligent optimism which whilst earnest, is misguiding for someone who's sole ambition revolves around violence and murder. Perhaps due to age or innocence, the rigorous training for war have done little to dull Jeyne's naivety, though such a trait can hardly be mistaken for weakness as her passion and instinct for self-preservation are far stronger than her ability to look for the good in people.

Biography :

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Full Name
Luthor Kellington


Titles
Ser, Sworn Shield of Criston Wylde


Age
37, Born in 262 AC


Family
Mother: Jeyne Kellington (Dead)
Father: Willis Kellington (Dead)
Elder Brother: Lord Spencer Kellington
Elder Sister: Ellyn Kellington


Personality
Adaptable, clever, and ambitious, Luthor is a man who is apt at getting to places he shouldn't really be. Not in terms of being the Sworn Shield of the head of House Wylde—he earned that position with his prowess in battle—but in terms of just kind of showing up in rooms that nobody expected him to be in. Naturally rather taciturn, soft-spoken, not particularly large, and quiet and stealthy in movement, it's easy to simply overlook Luthor. This is something Luthor exploits for everything it's worth, in service of both his lord and himself. He likes and is genuinely loyal to Criston, but unfortunately glittering gold can be somewhat more appealing. It's not necessarily that he's disloyal, he's just amenable to sufficiently high quantities of gold. He'd need a king's ransom to even consider directly turning on a friend, but for much less he'd be willing to perhaps spy on someone. He rarely keeps much wealth for long, as he is not very good with money and enjoys sharing it around with friends and sometimes strangers.

Though he is quite sedate on the outside, his mind is full of energy, and he is very attentive and proactive in addressing issues. His body can very quickly burst with this same energy at almost any moment, going from standing at Criston's left to breaking a traitorous servant's face open with his shield in the time it takes anyone else to realise something's happening. This energy lends him an indefatigable purpose that drives him even in dark times where everything seems to be going wrong. Luthor is rather paranoid, suspecting almost anyone of being ready to put a knife in the back of him or someone he cares about at any hour of the day or night, though there are a few who he truly does trust. His paranoia and laconic nature combine to make him terrible at holding a conversation and give him trouble talking earnestly about himself. Sometimes he comes off as rather cold, but he's mastered the art of a fake friendly smile. Luthor hides it carefully, but he has a flexible morality, willing to do and say things other knights might not be willing to.


Biography
The youngest child of the minor Kellington family, Luthor was never born for greatness. He's had to scrap and claw for everything he's achieved. He worked hard at becoming an excellent knight, and he taught himself to sneak around by moonlighting as a burglar in his youth. His family approved of his seeming lack of interest in scheming against his brother, and approved further of his flowering talent as a knight. While they did not openly say it, it was common knowledge that Willis neglected him in favour of Lewys, and his mother did the same for Ellyn. Luthor thus learned early to be self-reliant as much as possible, acting on his own dictates and playing his own tune.

This led Luthor to leave his family home of Kellington and venture out into the world as a hedge knight a year after his knighthood at seventeen. He had not planned to stay away for another sixteen years, but the road called to him. During this time of travel, Luthor gained valuable worldly experience and knowledge, some clarifications on the realities of practical morality, some amount of fame as a melee competitor at tourneys, and a squire from a Riverlander farming community named Dakes. His journeys took him from Dorne to the Wall to Pyke, all across the length and breadth of Westeros. When he finally returned home many years later, he found that little had changed. His elder siblings were still the doted-upon favourites, while Luthor was greeted with some warmth, but ultimately shut out in the cold.

Angered, Luthor returned coldness with coldness, then set out with a redoubled purpose. He found a home in the court of the new Lord Criston Wylde, pledging his sword to the man. Then he set about excelling in his service, solidifying his capable, reliable nature and his martial ability in Criston's mind. Gladden was more skeptical, but the facts eventually logically for themselves. Luthor encouraged young Criston towards ambition at first, but quickly realised that he was but one in an unhelpful sea of voices. So he shut up, figuring this would be more appreciated than constant advice. It was. In this time, Luthor found himself developing a genuine respect for Criston's integrity. Unconsciously, he became a more loyal person himself, and slowly 'using Criston as a path to ascend' became 'serve Criston as the path to ascend'. Thus it was only natural when, two years after he entered Criston's service, he asked for the honour of becoming the lord's sworn shield. The request granted, Luthor quietly stood behind Criston as his closest guard. Even still, he does not rest easy. His gaze is ever focused on the path upwards, even if this vision now includes Criston walking the path beside him.


Other
Semi-widely considered one of the foremost knights of the Stormlands with good reason. A swift, sure-footed, agile, and skilled knight, Luthor is more dangerous than he looks, though age has begun to dig its tendrils into him. He is also a versatile fighter, equally able with a wide range of weapons and able to dynamically change tactics as the situation demands. His adaptability and cunning lends itself well to the role of a battlefield commander, though he is lacking somewhat in the charisma needed. Luthor moves very quietly, even when he doesn't mean to, and is good at staying either out of sight or unobtrusive enough to ignore. He's not a ghost, he's just pretty sneaky. It makes him an excellent spy.​

 

[Little-Fox]

Johari Waxley
Handmaiden

Age: 19

WIP
​

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Full Name
Steffon Connington


Titles
Ser, The Red Griffon


Age
27, Born in 272 AC


Family
Pending Connington Family Tree


Personality
Few people are as compassionate towards their friends as Steffon Connington is even towards strangers and the smallfolk. He'll buy most decent sob stories thrown his way, though if he discovers he was taken advantage of he can hold grudges that trump his natural sympathetic attitude. This, along with everything else, makes Steffon a very likable person, or at the very least difficult to hate. His manners are well-schooled, though usually a bit too casual before he's got a handle on the formality level of the conversation. He's rather relaxed, with a philosophy that if he can't change it, he shouldn't worry about it. This doesn't stop him from sympathising with someone whose problem he cannot fix, but he will be honest about his ability to do anything beyond that. He also believes that obsession is unhealthy, while a balanced life is key and will produce better results than focusing life on one thing alone. As such, swordsmanship is only one of his skills, and is not one he uses to define himself. Steffon is not bound by order or routine, frequently changing his own around to keep himself flexible. As such, he adapts ably to sudden changes. He shows a talent for predicting the future consequences of the actions of himself and others. Of course, that doesn't mean he won't be caught in the heat of the moment and do something stupid. It just means he'll know afterwards what his goof cost.

His relaxed attitude can bite him, as he can overlook things due to not being as invested in them as he should be. His empathy also gives him an odd kind of mercurial temperament. He'll often pick up the moods of those around him rather than keeping a consistent attitude through the day. It also means that he'll almost never be a beacon of calm. He'll worry about things because other people are, even if his philosophy says he shouldn't be. He'll get angry with something just because the person he's talking to is venting about it, rather than staying calm and reasonable. The moods pass quickly when he leaves the room, thankfully. He's working on putting up the right kinds of barriers at the right times on his empathy to stop things like this from happening, but it's not happening yet. When left without someone to pick up moods from, he is the beacon of calm he aspires to be.


Biography
Steffon was a popular child, growing up. He always had more friends amongst both children and adults than his siblings did, though he learned to not be smug about it, since that made people dislike him, while he wanted them to like him. As a child, that was his main ambition. He wanted to be liked, friends with all of Westeros. As he matured, he grew out of this desire. He still feels fulfilled by having friends he can count on and being liked, but it's not his driving ambition by any stretch. Regardless of his popularity, he was not the eldest son, and so he received only a just-in-case education in politics and the administration of land. Regardless, outside of these areas he has a large repertoire of skills and experiences. His time with the Maester instilled him with a love for variety, as well as a solid basis in many areas to expand on. Much to his chagrin, he has never left Westeros, though he holds a kind of open fascination with the worship of R'hllor from the stories he's heard. That said, he is still firmly a follower of the Seven, no matter what rumour tells. It's just an interest.

Steffon has always had a notable skill at and interest in martial endeavours, in the arenas of both personal combat and generalship, but he refused to make them the focus of his life. In a way, this has helped his progression with them, as he comes at learning them with a calmer, more measured pace than many others, and never got caught in a snarl of stress over his training not meeting some ridiculously high expectation. A clear mind learns better, after all. That said, he was never going to be a great in either field, merely better than most other knights. Many warrior types look down on him and underestimate him for his 'lack of commitment', which is only enhanced by his lack of interest in fame or glory. As such, many do not properly realise that Steffon actually is an exceptional knight, and a commander of equal skill but semi-lacking in experience. Recently, Steffon's brother, by now Lord of Griffon's Roost, has been talking with him about Steffon joining Elaena's Queensguard. He likes the idea, for he has heard good things about the young Princess, but doesn't really bear any of the other claimants or factions much ill will. Besides, of course, the Reach. He's still a Stormlander, after all.


Other
While the obvious is that Steffon is an excellent swordsman and commander, that is far from the only thing he's good at. He is an excellent falconer, takes keen interest in horse breeding, studies multiple academic topics including the life of Aegon the Conqueror on an amateur level, knows basic herbalism, and is a decent archer. Steffon's time is finite, so he is by no means a master at all of these. He just makes sure to maintain multiple varied hobbies. He actually doesn't like mummers much at all, though he'll sit through them for someone else's sake. He wears a red gem, imported from Essos, around his neck. It, his hair, and his well-known interest in the R'hllorian faith are the source of his moniker of the Red Griffon.​

 

[ACHA]

(WIP)

"Honor, Not Honors"

(Clint Eastwood)​

Full Name :
Kevan Westerling


Titles :
Ser, Lord of the Crag, Head of House Westerling


Age :
53, Born in 246 AC

Personality :

He is stern and stoic, and is a man of few words, but when he speaks, others listen. He has an intimidating air around him, which is peculiar given his status as just a minor lord compared to his peers and overlord. He's a talented commander, and is well-respected within the Westerlands and the Seven Kingdoms. His people both love and fear him. Though he can be harsh, he is just and metes out punishment only to those who deserve it. He is the true embodiment of their house words: "Honor, Not Honors". A dutiful lord that serves and leads honorably.


Biography :

He was a veteran and fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. While he managed to live through the experience, his father didn't. This made him the Lord of the Crag at a relatively young age.

Other :


-----------------------------------

(Scott Eastwood)
​

Full Name :
Janos Westerling


Titles :
Ser, Heir of the Crag


Age :
30

Personality :

He's similar to his father in some respects, in that he does not seek praise from others and only seeks to do what was required of him. He is noticeably more jovial and gregarious than his father, which made the commonfolk like him better.

Biography :



Other :

 

[Whisker]

Connington of Griffin's Roost​

"A Griffin! A Griffin!"

Name: Roger Connington

Titles: Ser

Age: 29

Height: 6'1

Family: Coming Soon

Personality: WIP

Biography: WIP

Other: WIP​

 

[Dread-neck]

Name: Merrett Dustin

Age: 22

Titles: Lord. Fifth in Line of House Dustin

Family: Fifth son of Robard Dustin and Myriame Flint, Brother of Cregan, Mordane, Victarion, Rodrik, and Dalton Dustin. Half-brother of Asha and Jory Dustin. Father of Ronnel and Cley Snow.

Personality: Being sixth, fifth after the death of his brother Dalton, lead Merrett to be a little less concerned with family matters as it was very unlikely he'd ever have to be in charge of any of that. Being so disconnected with these things has left him rather carefree and aloof. He took to learning things like swordplay with various masters of the craft, reading where he could, and enjoying a little time with various women at brothels. However living such a disconnected lifestyle as he does, Merrett also fails to understand the concept of responsibility that one should have learned long ago, leading him to leave the raising of his two children to his other family members and nannies, spending as little time with them as possible even though they live within the halls of his home, albeit at his brother's request. Despite his carefree nature however, there is some underlying guilt to him. His mother died giving birth to him and it is always something he has felt responsible for.

Biography: Merrett Dustin has led a rather easy life despite things that happen around him. He spent his early years under the teachings of various tutors that his father acquired for him, both martial and educational, though his father died when he was only a boy of eleven, and his mother died in child birth. Despite the loss of his father, Merrett would be continued to be raised by his older brother, Cregan. As Merrett grew up, his attitude would become more aloof and carefree, and though his brother tried, the concept of responsibility never truly set in with him, leading to the birth of his first two children by two different women. He spends his days now either furthering his education or with various women in brothels, the burdens of nobility and his house seeming to be the furthest thing from his mind.

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Full Name
Trentan


Titles
The Dornishman


Age
26, Born in 273 AC


Family
Not anymore.


Personality
Trentan is, on the outside, charming, mysterious, honest, and cheery. He's quite good at keeping that look up, but anyone who knows him knows that he's only manipulatively charming and doesn't mean any of it. His mysterious air is more a kind of paranoid secrecy than anything. His honesty is just crude bluntness. His good cheer takes a distinctly sinister aspect when he's seen dismembering some poor sap and his wife with an axe and a wide grin. He is experienced, especially in the arts of killing, with a bloodsoaked past. He has very few scruples, and will do almost anything if you pay him well enough, though in acts calling for butchery he seems particularly enthusiastic and barbaric. He's professional enough to not let it impact his price negotiation, but Trentan is an adrenaline junkie, and has found that he is particularly thrilled by the life or death struggle of combat, as well as inflicting the 'death' part on other people. He used to be on the edge of becoming some kind of irrecoverable death addict, but he's recently begun to have his head pulled in by a new friend who has gotten worryingly close to him in an even more worryingly short period of time. He still takes a thoroughly disturbing amount of joy in fighting and killing people, however, whether they deserve it or not. Trentan has enough self-awareness and a good enough sense of humour to take and make jokes about himself, and enjoys caricaturing both himself and others for humour purposes.

In terms of decision-making, Trentan makes fast and decisive decisions, though not always safe ones. He's good at realistically weighing things up in combat-relevant timeframes, like how good he is versus how good that guy over there looks, or how likely he is to get away intact from that mob of footmen chasing after him. That won't stop him from taking the risky option anyway. He'll absolutely throw himself into that trio as a blur of whirling metal and see what happens. It's fun, after all. Some people call this habit a sign of his stupidity, while others call him brave. Mostly, however, it's just that Trentan doesn't value his life much at all. To the surprise of nobody, this risk-taking, foolhardy nature extends outwards to make him both impatient and perhaps overly aggressive. He has difficulty empathising or sympathising with anyone, though he isn't quite a psychopath. This, among other things, gives him a feeling of distance from most people around him. He rarely forms real emotional bonds, instead skating by with semi-manipulative one-way relationships that give him nothing of substance. He hasn't had a real friend for about a decade. Well, bar one.


Biography
The Boneway, famous for being trodden on by the feet of Baelor the Blessed and the major pass from the Stormlands and Dorne, is guarded well by House Yronwood. Trentan's father was one of the men who ensured it was so, a guardsman in one of the watchtowers along the Boneway. This father was also a bit of a lech, and Trentan was born out of wedlock in a nearby village off the Boneway, and as such was always an outsider. Even his mother was a little distant, though the relationship was functional and somewhat warm. His childhood was rough, to put it mildly. Rare was the peaceful day, whether from children harassing him for being a bastard or adults harassing his mother for bearing him. Even at such a young age, Trentan often won these fights by being a vicious little shit, gouging out the eye of one of the cobbler's sons to end the fight at the ripe old age of 10. After that, some of the children stayed away, though more learned nothing.

A year and a half on, and a hedge knight passing through took a shine to the young boy, asking to take him as squire. Happy to be rid of him—though she'd never admit that—his mother accepted. Trentan himself was glad to leave, especially with a brave knight. On the night in which he was meant to leave, the cobbler's son confronted him again, jealous that the knight had chosen Trentan despite himself putting in effort to be noticed. They fought, and Trentan pushed him off a hill. The boy rolled all the way down and didn't get up. Trentan left, and didn't breathe a word.

Service with a knight was not what Trentan imagined it being. Trentan's master was poor, his skill at arms made irrelevant in the face of alcoholism, adultery, and a fierce temper. It was not long before he turned his hand to mercenary work, crossing to Essos and joining Black's Band, a sellsword company commanded by a man who styled himself Lord Black. Even as a child, Trentan knew he was eccentric, but the others said that he was fair and competent, which satisfied them. The company of sellswords all but guaranteed the kind of man Trentan would grow into. Trentan became a kind of favoured child for a few of the less callous members of the company, especially after he killed a stranger who stole into their camp one night as the majority of the company was out on a maneuver. His life from now on only got bloodier, especially as he developed a growing taste for that sort of thing.

When Trentan's master died, so died the last person he would truly feel close to for almost the next decade. It didn't really happen in any special way. The company lost a battle, he was one of the casualties. Trentan never got to see his body, the Band had been forced from the field. By this time, of course, he was almost a grown man in his own right. At least, by medieval standards. Soon he was fighting in battles with the rest of the company, and he was loving it. The tempo of a fight, the clashing of metal and wood, the feel of a blow hitting home, the exhilaration of victory, the knowledge that he held power over life and death; all of it appealed to him.

Over the course of years, these thrills and joys became more self-destructive as Trentan went further and further to experience it more often. At a point, his near-addiction to fighting and killing drove him to leave the discipline of Black's Band and venture to the fighting pits of Meereen. There, he entered the pits voluntarily, one of very few to do so. He won in one of the smaller arenas. Then he did it again. And again. And again. At some point the arenas started getting bigger, and the crowds louder. His freedom became forfeit, but Trentan didn't much care. The fighting pits gave him life, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Victory after victory mounted over nearly three years of fighting until he was fighting in the Great Pit of Daznak, largest and most prestigious pit in Meereen.

One day, he was placed in the Pit of Daznak with thirteen others. His first opponent, a painted woman with a spear, proved his equal. Weapons at each other's throats, their eyes met and found some understanding. A kind of mutual respect for another warrior, a feeling new to him. They turned and cut down the rest of the competition until the only remaining combatants were the two of them once more. Regardless of respect, the Pits demanded blood, and neither were about to refuse it. Long they fought, yet even as exhaustion set in the two found themselves relentlessly even, and neither proved able to land a telling blow. The fight was stopped and declared a draw, for a fight between two warriors who could barely brandish their weapons was no fun to watch.

With that, they had both had seemingly outstayed their welcome. Trentan, the painted woman, and a batch of other fighters were sold to a slaving ship bound for New Ghis. While Trentan had been fine being a slave if it meant constant killing, a long voyage to an unknown destination where he'd likely not be a gladiator was unacceptable. He was beginning to plot some kind of escape when the slave ship was attacked by pirates. The painted woman played on the fears of the slavers, and the fighters were released. Trentan killed the slaving captain himself with a mace he stole off the body of a slaver.

The pirates who had boarded found themselves swallowed in the fury of released slaves. When the killing was done, an eerie silence fell over the ships. In the aftermath, Trentan exchanged names with the painted woman—now known to him as Myrmella Froststep, a wildling. The escaped slaves split up between the ships, then beached on the nearest coast and split further. He and Myrmella teamed up, uneasily at first—respect was one thing, trust was another entirely—but soon with a genuine friendship, the likes of which Trentan had not had for many years. He was actually quicker to trust her than she was to trust him, which had never happened. Two years of successful partnership later, the two heard of coming troubles in Westeros and decided to cross the Narrow Sea to look for work. The wars of Westeros, while less frequent than those in Essos, were usually more profitable for sellswords like them.


Other
He doesn't recognise it, since he's out of touch with humanity, but Trentan's actually begun to love Myrmella, and has no idea how to handle the new feeling. It hardly needs to be said, but Trentan is exactly as good a fighter as you'd expect of someone with his life story, if not more so. Trentan is left handed, but has trained using his other hand as well.​

 

[ailurophile]

names
Beony 'Bee' Waters and Blane Waters.

titles
None, between them.

ages
Both recently turned nineteen, they're twins.

family
Their late parents were Bethany, a whore, and an unknown member of the City Watch. They are each others' only surviving relatives to their knowledge.

personalities
Beony is a wildcard, unpredictable and volatile. There's no doubt that she would do anything to help herself or her brother: she's proved it on many occasions. Their lifestyles have made both twins quick thinking, adaptable, and cunning, but Beony is more those things than her brother is. She often puts up a front and has become rather good at acting to manipulate people. Though she can be aggressive, Beony does truly care about her brother and isn't a completely awful person deep down, she's just grown up very fast and had to toughen up to survive. It should be noted that many of her crimes are justified in her mind: it's every man for themselves in her eyes, she doesn't hurt people for fun, it's just life.
Blane is the more sensitive soul of the two. He seems to feel all the remorse and guilt that his sister doesn't, and he's quite emotional. However, he is not weak by any stretch, and can become just as aggressive as his sister if he feels they're being threatened. While Beony is the brains, Blane is much more quiet and is content to 'follow the leader'. He is far more gentle, and far more affectionate.

backstories
Beony and Blane were born in their mother Bethany’s room in Lady Maerie’s brothel on Silk Street, healthy twins who arrived when expected. Their mother was a whore, a girl of little more than eighteen who, while new to her profession, was already getting a name for herself amongst the brothel’s patrons. Their father was a member of the City Watch, and though corrupt (paying for whores with money he’d essentially stolen from residents of Flea Bottom, abusing citizens), the twins grew up idolising the man through their mother’s recollections of him. When the twins were three their mother gave birth again, a boy named Bran, but he did not make it to his third nameday.
The twins’ life so far has passed in somewhat of a blur. As children they spent the majority of their time pickpocketing those who chose to venture through the streets, just a few coins and pieces of jewellery. As the years passed, their crimes progressed. When the twins were thirteen, they committed their first murder; Blane slit the throat of a man who was trying to assault his sister. She repaid the favour a few months later. Robbery, murder, and mugging are their main sources of income nowadays, although Blane has something of a side business going for himself, following in his mother’s footsteps so to speak, much to Beony’s disgust. Not that she’d let him stop.

Almost a year ago their mother succumbed to a sickness, so they are now more dependant on one another than ever.

other
Pay very little attention to the personalities as they're bound to change the second I write a post.

 

[AldarisLordOfLight]

Spoiler

With his armor

Full Name
Aegavar

Titles
Captain-General of the Windblown
Lord Of Rags
The Tattered Knight
The Warrior in Rags
Aethon (his chosen name among the Windblown)

Age
37 years old
Born in 262 AC

Family



Personality
Aegavar is a quiet leader where he prefers action above petty exchange of words. He speaks little when not spoken to but listens intently instead. His words are given when it is most needed but remains with him when it is not. Aegavar is blunt whenever he shares his thoughts which is a hindrance against certain highborn clients but a boon for his men. Despite being blunt most of the time, he does have a sense of tact when it is needed. He is fair for he knows the value of fairness especially to those denied by it where he insures his men receive just compensation from each contract, enough time to recuperate, and fair treatment to those that surrender to him and his forces. In battle, he is ferocious. Through martial strength his inspires his men to achieve near equal prowess; he and his own will always strive to achieve victory and success in whatever it is they are doing. Aegavar has no love for deserters and he is especially harsh when he deals with them just as those before him have done as members of the Windblown.

Biography
The son of a whore from one of the pillow houses of Lys and some man of unknown lineage, Aegavar was born with little to nothing to his name. As a child, life was hard; especially when he scurries from alley to alley, corridor to corridor, room to room doing odd little things for the whores and matron of the pillow house while avoiding a number of individuals who eyed him as a delicacy to be feasted upon. To survive, he learned how to be quiet and to listen intently to everything around him. He learned his numbers and letters from odd places and people from merchants who indulged in his questions to the matron of the pillow house herself. He even learned how to fight in order to see the new day from petty thieves which honed his tenacity in combat as he grew older.

On his 9th name day, after avoiding the clutches of those that wish to partake in the unsullied flesh of youth again, Aegavar had enough. Living within the Disputed Lands has shown him many things and one thing that was constant was that being a sellsword was a lot better than anything else. Coin, power, strength, respect. Things that someone from the dregs of society would trade their very souls for to the Stranger for just a pittance of a chance to acquire it. On the first chance he go, he marched alongside a group that bore a forked-tailed banner of blue and white. He was questioned when he was found. Nearly killed in fact, but he proved himself useful for them to keep him around.

Years went by and he grew up. With his ability to read and write, he assisted in keeping the records of the company as organized as possible. With him being able to count, he assisted in book keeping for the company. With the expression of his tenacity in a fight, he was taught the ways of the sword and mounted combat. He was taught many things from the company's tongue of High Valyrian to the principles of being steadfast and to never falter. Aegavar learned that to desert the company is a most grave offense. Poor bastards felt so much pain for running away and abandoning their duty. He learned a great many things as a member of the company; he even chose a name for himself just as company tradition which was Aethon as a means to separate his past to his present. On his 12th name day, he participated on his first battle. A true test of fire in the Disputed Lands.

He fought valiantly and wildly which earned him the respect of the common soldier and the notice of his superiors. He slowly rose through the ranks and was soon made captain of his own force. By the fires at camp Aegavar, or Aethon as most of them knew him, heard stories of a great warrior and leader dressed in rags. Stories of greatness, riches, and battle inspired him to achieve greater things in the company. He even made a tattered cloak just like the stories themselves. In battle, his distinctive choice of attire became a target for the enemies of the company and a symbol for his allies. The men even made claims that his prowess was akin to the stories shared in camp. Many came to know him as such and in turn notoriety for the company also grew.

It was on his 27th name day tragedy struck. A bloody battle against the Tyroshi has led his Captain-General to fall in battle. A crossbow bolt to the neck can end any man regardless of martial prowess. A pitiful end for a warrior on the field. The men, disheartened and afraid, began to falter and the officers were disorganized to the point of being ineffective in the chaos. In a desperate act, he rallied them. A forceful bellow in High Valyrian shocked the men back in to action for the company's near silent captain has loudly issued a call to arms. He led a counter-attack and routed the Tyroshi. Snatching victory from the grasp of defeat although it was Pyrrhic at best. After the battle, the remaining captains convened and surprisingly chose him to succeed the position. When asked why he found out that his deeds, from when he first joined to the present, have proven his worth to all within the company.

With that trust, he led the company for years through Essos fighting for anyone that needs them. He honed his skills and the skills of his company as best his can through those battles. Now, a new contract seems to await him and his company. A call for riches, glory, and battle that any mercenary worth their salt would ask for. A contract that may take him across the Narrow Sea. With his tattered cloak made of rags and an army loyal to him and their contract, they set off...

As they have said, "Whoever rides with the Tattered Knight will come home richer than a lord."


Other
Aegavar owns a large, white warhorse with the hindquarters covered in ragged strips of cloth; he affectionately names the stallion, Gael. He also owns a Great Sword which he proficiently uses in combat.​

 

[TheAncientCelt]

TAC's NPC's

Benedict Bracken - Golden Company

Spoiler

Full Name :
Benedict Bracken


Titles :
Captain of the Golden Company



Age :
43
Born in 256


Family :





Other :
He plays the lute and is an avid supporter of the arts.

Oberyn Sand - Master at Arms at Sunspear

Spoiler

Full Name :
Oberyn Sand


Titles :
Master at Arms

Age :
24

"Areo Amazverdagon" / Jon Smithson

Spoiler

Full Name :
"Areo Amazverdagon"
Jon Smithson

Titles :
Esteemed Poet of the Rhoynar
Greatest Writer of the Wall

Age :
57

Personality :
Flamboyant. Expressive. Vindictive. Visionary. Self Absorbed. Cowardly.

Other :
Famous playwright / poet. He owns several trading ships and is a sponsor to both a prominent blacksmith in King's Landing and Lysene tailor, both of whom who supply much needed materials for Areo's plays.

 

[Sardonic]

​

Full name:
Baldric Swann

Title:
Lord of Stonehelm

Age:
36​

​

Personality:

Baldric has never been a man mired in doubt; years of Lordship within the Mistwood have imbued him with a confidence that colors both action and speech. Few are surprised that the Lord of Stonehelm is an exceptionally strong-willed man, but, unlike his father, Baldric tempers it with a general joviality that inspires a loyalty and devotion from many of those nearest him. This dynamic has given birth to a close circle of advisors, and, true to the Swann way, action is subjected to extensive (and, at times, excessive) scrutiny before a course is plotted.

Biography:

The twin towers of Stonehelm has long watched over the flow of the Slayne, and House Swann has held it as long as any can remember. A strategic position at the mouth of a profitable inland route and a relative lack of conflict for decades had empowered the ancient House Swann. Such was the birthright of Baldric Swann, the eldest son of Marton Swann, the Lord of Stonehelm.
Although he had been born into a proud and wealthy home, Baldric had been taught at an early age that recklessness lead to ruin. His father had always been fond of reminding his family that tenure was not an assurance of permanency. A lord’s lack of discipline or carelessness could devastate a house as surely as any army, and so it fell to him to act with caution and wisdom. It seemed a nebulous thought until Corloss passed.

Marton Swann, while not particularly charismatic, had always been a prudent and calculating man who prided himself in an exceptional administration of his house. Although merely a boy, his brother’s death left an insidious mark on the family that Baldric was hard-pressed not to notice. Caution became paranoia and reservation became isolation in the towers of Stonehelm as Marton shut himself away for days at a time. Council chambers fell silent in the months that followed, and House Swann, having grown wealthy due to its ability to carefully and strategically adapt to the ebbs and flows of the trade that flowed along the Slayne, stagnated. In time sorrow would fade from Stonehelm, but the questions that it had caused would leave a blemish that Marton spent the remainder of his days working to remove.

In light of the turbulent timing, it was a wonder when his parents had managed to secure such a favorable match with Larinna of House Selmy. Like so many marriages of the sort, he knew little of her prior to their betrothal, but he sincerely couldn’t have hoped for a better woman. She came from an established house, and she was beautiful, yes, but there was a spirited strength in her that Baldric found thrilling. It may have been a marriage motivated by politics for both of their houses, but, in Larinna, Baldric found a true companion and confidant. Soon thereafter they welcomed their daughter, Avelley, into the world only to see her joined by her brother, Myles, a little over a year later.

Baldric’s young family soon became a welcomed breath of fresh air that invigorated an otherwise stale house. The hearths once more roared in the spirit of festivity, and Baldric, with his counsels and feasts, waxed while Marton waned. If his pride was wounded, Marton never showed it. If anything the man was relieved as his presence became less and less needed. Stonehelm passed to Baldric before either of his children had learned to speak. Marton’s passing, while abrupt, was ushered in with far too much relief to be deemed tragic.

Several years have passed and, under the strong will of the new Lord of Stonehelm, the banks of the Slayne flourish once more. Tucked away in the Mistwood and on the shores of the Dornish sea, the twin towers of Stonehelm have stood by thus far as the continent becomes increasingly embroiled in conflict. Caution and patience may be familiar sentiments, but House Swann has always flourished in the current of the Slayne; they are not comfortable in silence.

Other:

Baldric is an accomplished rider and swordsman, and enjoys an occasional hunt with those close to him.

Having grown up so close to the Dornish sea, he is comfortable on the water and knows the basics of navigation, sailing, etc.

The Lord of Stonehelm has a particularly strong rapport with his uncle, Arlan Swann.

Despite the history of his house, he has gained a reputation for being less concerned with station and ceremony than one might expect. As such, he values merit and contribution more than heritage. His closest counselors, to the disdain of some, reflect this philosophy.