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Fandom The Wolf and the Stag: Character Sheets

OOC
Here
Full Name:
Loras IV Baratheon

Alias:
The Green King
The Prince of Poppies

Titles:
Loras of the House Baratheon, Fourth of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdom and Protector of the Realm.

Born:
379 AC

Age:
20

Spouse:
N/A

History:
A stout youth with a large figure, and a healthy head of of raven hair, Loras Baratheon was unmistakably a scion of Westeros’ most esteemed family. His father had been King Orys I, an already aging ruler, in the twilight years of his life, though due to the claims of Loras’ two elder brothers, the young Prince was under no impression that he would inherit any of his father’s lands and titles upon his passing. Instead, he had contented himself to live happily in the easy luxury that came with being a son of the most important man on the continent, not bothering himself with learning the concepts of politics or statecraft that so consumed the educations of his brothers.

When Loras reached his fifth year, his father would pass away, though at the time he was too young to fully comprehend the concept of death. His eldest brother would be crowned as King Robert III, and Loras would marvel at all of the revelry and celebration that marked the ascension of a new King. He would meet many of the realm’s most important Lords and Ladies, and as a young child, many of them would bring him gifts, or regail him with tall tales of all of their great exploits. The young Prince fell in love with celebration, but more importantly, he fell in love with what came next.

A great joust was held to celebrate his brother’s ascension, and all of the great knights of the realm fought against each other for the honour of being the King’s champion. Loras watched in awe as the bravest and most valent men he had ever seen did battle with one another, and it was in that moment that he decided what he wanted to do with his life.

Loras’ mother was Lyseni women, foreign to Westeros and barely able to understand the continent’s customs, even though she served on the regency council for her eldest son, whilst he was still in his minority. As such, she did not quite understand the concept of knighthood, and attempted to dissuade her son from a life of foolish glory-seeking, though her efforts were in vein. Every morning, to every knight, Loras would be out in the yard, training with his little wooden sword against men often twice, or even thrice, his size. He would not give up, and since he was so determined to seek a warrior’s life, his mother made sure that he was given the best instructors and tutors that Westeros had to offer. He was made a page for Harys Lorch, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and the man taught him not only the ways of combat, but also the code of chivalry and honour that came with knighthood. Loras was ready to graduate on to becoming a squire, so that he could go out and explore the world by his charges’ side, but then tragedy struck.

King Robert III Baratheon died only three years after his father, fracturing his skull after a painful fall from his horse whilst attempting a royal progress in the Stormlands. This time, Loras was old enough to feel the weight of this loss, for he had been close with his brother, and the two had often played together at being warriors and kings. The coronation of Loras’ other brother, now King Orys II, was not quite as grandiose as the first had been. Loras still enjoyed the the revelry and merriment, but now it had a darker tone. His mother would take him aside during the celebration, and tell him that he was not to follow his desire to be a squire so soon, he was now heir to the throne, until his brother could have a child, and as such he would have to start learning about the functions of the realm.

Loras was miserable with this arrangement, but there was not much that he could do. He would spend his days locked up inside a study, with the grandmaester reading ancient tomes at him, despite his obvious lack of interest. He dreamed of being free from this life, and wished he did not have the constraints of being heir to the Seven Kingdoms.

Unfortunately, his wish came true.

Orys II Baratheon fell ill when Loras was only twelve years old, and after a year of battling some crippling ailment, he passed away. Loras would ascend to the throne as King Loras IV, at the age of only thirteen years, and his own coronation was bleak and dour.

After the death of three Kings in less than a decade, many did not expect Loras to last very long upon the throne, with some whispering that the Baratheon family must be cursed, or plagued by some dark demon or witch. Such rumours took root with the common people, and only grew as time went on, and eventually, they grew to the point that action had to be taken.

Loras’ mother was foreign, and had served on the regency council of all of her sons, she was not trusted, not by the people, nor her fellow regents, and as such she was seen as a catalyst for the anger of the realm. To quell the discontent, Loras’ mother would be burnt at the stake as a witch, blamed for causing the death of both of her elder sons, and also her husband.

At this point, Loras had lost both his parents, and two of his siblings, and he began to enter an almost permanent state of grief. At first, this was simply a case of throwing himself into the love that had once been denied to him, fighting, and knighthood, though as he grew elder, that lost much of its appeal. Loras was not contented to simply fight the knights and soldiers that made up his royal court, and instead sought out greater challenges.

This would be his undoing.

King Loras decided to attempt to impress his court by displaying his martial prowess against warriors of Myr, R’hollrites, with flaming swords. This was a foolish decision. Loras had greatly overestimated his own skills, and was swarmed by his enemies, normally, as the King, if he were to be losing a fight, his enemies would back off, lest they be tried for treason, or attempted murder, but fire cannot be told to stop, and Loras found himself severely burned.

The pain was almost unbearable, and ever since that day, the King has found himself in a great amount of anguish, taking almost hourly doses of milk of the poppy, and recusing himself from public view so that his subjects cannot see his shame. Prior to his injuries, the King had promised to wed a northerner of House Stark to mark the hundredth anniversary of the victory of the Summer King in the War of Five Kings, a duty which the King is eager to uphold, though he is unsure how the realm will see him now.

Notes:
King Loras suffers from severe burns around large parts of his body, and takes milk of the poppy to deal with the constant pain.


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Full Name: Ander Eddard Stark
Alias: "The Black Wolf," "The Shaggy King"
Titles: Ander of House Stark, First of His Name, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, Iron Islands, and the Vale
Born:
379 AC
Age:
20
Spouse:
N/A
History:
Ander was born the first of King Asher Stark's children by just seconds, his twin sister Aliana joining him shortly afterwards. They were quite similar in appearance. Both had incredibly dark hair, fair skin, and a strong vitality, but that was the end of it. Ander was always a quiet child, obedient, and always willing to sacrifice his needs for everyone else's. His sister, on the other hand, was emotional and impulsive, and quite jealous of him. As the heir to the title of King in the North, Ander had great expectations thrust upon him. From the day he could walk and talk, he was taught everything a King should know. Politics, swordplay, law, customs, manners, etiquette. The already shy boy became even more withdrawn, the pressure of being the heir crushing him. And the wedge between him and his sister only pushed them farther away, even if he genuinely cared for her. Though for a time, he was happy. He had his mother, and his sister, despite their differences. But things never last. His father died when the twins were just twenty years old, after suffering a terrible stroke in his sleep. Ander became incredibly withdrawn after his coronation, nearly cutting all ties with everyone due to the pressure. He still regrets it to this day, wishing things could have been different. His upbringing weighs heavily on the man, informing his every action and thought. He often stays in his chambers for hours on end, brooding over his past. He is currently promised to the sister of Walton Karstark, which, while he is hesitant to, he is at least at peace knowing that at this point, they're practically only related by name and marriage.
Notes: Ander is often called the "Shaggy King" by his critics, after he attended a tourney in the South. He got so hot in his armor, that he had to shake the sweat from his hair like a dog, hence the title.
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(I'll make any changes to his background that are needed later! Just wanted to go ahead and get it out.)
 
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Full Name: Aliana Catelyn Stark
Alias: The Dark Princess
Nickname: Alia, or by Ander: “Lia”.
Titles: Aliana of House Stark, Princess of the North, sister of King Ander, and daughter of the late King Asher.
Born: 379 AC
Age: 20
Spouse: N/A

History:
Had she not been born a woman, there would be very little to distinguish the birth rights of Alia and Ander Stark. Yet, as fate would have it, she was. Throughout her childhood, the twins were raised together, with more importance set upon the male heir from as early as Alia can remember. As his companion, however, Aliana was not deprived of the richness of education, and attended many of the same studies as her brother — indulging herself in the histories of mighty men, and the languages of the barbarians, and wondering what it would be to be incorporated into such an adventure. Her adventurous and imaginative soul made for a great companion for the young prince, as though he’d been gifted a brother after all. The two would often play together in a pretend world of their own — battling dragons, combatting mortal enemies, and ruling their land together. That was until their mother caught her daughter, a lady, in a wrestling match with the precious heir, both dirt stained and ravaged. He’d broken her sword following a dispute and, having always been rather short tempered, Aliana had jumped at him without a second thought.

Disgraced, Alia was banished to her room to think on what she had done, refused the opportunity to speak to her brother until she learned to be a lady. From this point on their mother made a point of separating the two siblings; where her brother was offered the opportunity to learn a vast amount of knowledge and culture, Aliana was resigned to the life of a woman — to become a delicate, somewhat talented, creature that was seen rather than heard.

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Resentment grew within the young lady as the years passed by, watching her brother through the windows of Winterfell, as he paraded valiantly on horseback, practised his jousting or displayed his archery skills. She hated it, all of it, the stupidity of her gender limitations and the idolatrous praising of the young prince. All the same, once the two were re-introduced, it was hard to uphold the anger that she had nurtured. Luckily for the family, Aliana found herself able to confide in her brother, about all of her woes and miseries, her dreams and aspirations, and found great solace in his comfort. In an attempt to soothe his sister, Ander took to secretly training her some of the tricks he had learned for wielding a sword or hitting the bullseye. The bonding time was enough of a reconciliation, serving to increase the sibling bond that had been severed by the hands of time and an intrusive mother.

That is not, by any means, to say that there is only harmony within the relationship. For, that would be an outright lie, and anyone with House Stark would be able to tell you so. With Alia’s short temper and fiery nature, small jests between the two often turn sour rather quickly. Not a week passes by without some sort of argument — be it political or merely comical — and she’ll be the first person to drag her brother’s name through the dirt. Funnily enough, however, it would not be wise to follow suit; although often making jokes at her brother’s expense — and would certainly never admit to it — Alia loves her brother and her family fiercely, and would do absolutely anything to protect them

Naturally, as one of the very few people that Ander can trust, Aliana may at times intrude on the meetings with his council. With her words always ready to fire, dripping in sarcasm, cynicism and dark wit, many people at times protest her presence. However, it would be important to note — which she is certain that her brother has — that such remarks and scrutinisation often generates a better and more precise plan, grown from constructive criticism.

Notes: although her impulsive and passionate nature may lead Aliana into many tricky and difficult situations, most of the time she is wise enough to recognise her mistakes, or what is the right thing to do (even if she doesn’t want to do it).

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***
(Forgive me if it is a little flawed, I wrote this on my phone as I wanted to get it up. I’ll try and get around to editing and proofreading later tonight).
 
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Full Name: Oryn Martell

Alias: Champion of Essos

Titles: Prince of Dorne, Lord of Sunspear


Born: 376 AC

Age: 23

Spouse: N/A

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History: Oryn Martell was originally the unsupervised and wild second Prince of Dorne, his elder sister Rhaenys Martell was in line to be the Lady of Dorne. Oryn in his early life received a standard noble child's education and then a Martell's education. Never again shall a Martell be weak is something that's been echoed across the generations with the stories of Oberyn Martell and the Sand Snakes as well as the tragedy of Ellia Martell. He was well educated in poison early on which is strange for noble child much less a young boy to learn but that is the way of the Martell. Oryn spent an entire decade in Essos with the current Sword of the Morning Arthur IV Dayne. One could argue the knight was his supervision and he most certainly sucked at his job. Oryn in has come near death far too often because he found himself engaging in fights most often gladiatorial in nature. Although he ran around with a knight he didn't want to be one, he found Knights too boring and too typical. He wanted to be an exotic fighter more like the Sand Snakes and Oberyn who everyone would tell stories about as the most recent great Martell. He found that only in his Trial by fire methods of fighting and learning through being a gladiator all across Essos. He would hit a turning point where fighting in Essos became natural and easy, this was the start of Oyrn Martell the Champion of Essos. Oryn and Arthur would essentially run wild in Essos until one day they were recalled to Dorne, Oryn's eldest sister was pregnant with a bastard child. Everyone believed they were there to be present for the birth of her first child. Then several months later Rhaenys and her child would die in child birth. Oryn before he knew lost his sister and his old life, now three years later have adjusted and accepted his new role as the Lord of Sunspear.

Notes:
  • In the past, Prince Doran was executed for his support of the Lannisters during the War of the Five Kings. His son Trystane Martell also died during the War, rather foolishly wanting to fight to protect his love the bastardized incest child Myrcella Baratheon. The rule of Dorne fell to Oberyn Martell who was known to not be fond of the Lannisters and that he was most likely at an orgy somewhere as the war went on. Oberyn and Ellaria traveled Essos until they found a worthy noblewoman who would be his wife and the bearer of his one true heir.
  • His personal Knight is Ser Arthur IV Dayne the Sword of the Morning, he wields the greatsword Dawn which suits the extremely tall and muscular knight.
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Full Name: Alyn Baelish

Alias: N/A

Titles: Acting Lord of Harrenhal

Born: 376 AC

Age: 23

Spouse: N/A

History: Alyn Baelish wasn't born the eldest son of his house of Harrenhal. He became one when his brother, Robin Baelish, fell to his death while exploring the Tower of Dread. To his father, it was another sign of the keep's curse attempting to pry off their house's grip on Harrenhal. Not that it was a castle worth keeping—for all the money their lands produced, the castle swallowed every last coin in upkeep. But Robin's death was not the only casualty of his fall... Alyn had been with him that day, when the dusty cobblestones in the tower had crumbled under their feet. When he awoke, not only had he lost his older brother but he had been robbed of his boyhood. The accident made him a sickly child and for a period of time, he had to wear a metal contraption to help his gait.

Not soon after his recovery, Alyn learned that his inheritance earned through his brother's death would be passed on to his newly born brother. Although his father had lost interest in Alyn as an heir, he did not treat him for the worse for it. Alyn grew up with many doctors at his stead; two of the great towers of Harrenhal—the Tower of Dread and Ghosts—were shut off in order to put some coin aside for his treatment. Still, the idea of Harrenhal going to his younger brother while he was to be sent away to their faraway keep in the Fingers eventually built up a great resentment in him. Although he had hated the castle as a child, he had lived in its walls for too long to give it up without complaint. Cold and cursed as it was, it was home... and his younger brother did not instill in him any confidence that he'd be an able leader.

Two years ago, his father fell ill to sickness. Although Alyn's mother tried to have him treated in the castle for a few months, she decided that the keep was the cause of his poor health and set off to the Fingers—leaving Alyn in charge while they were absent. For two years, Alyn has been the Acting Lord of Harrenhal. Tensions in his household are rising, with his siblings criticizing his every move. To make matters worse, the two kingdoms of the realm have chosen Harrenhal for an important, ceremonial wedding...

Notes: He walks with a heavy limp. On bad days, he requires a cane. On especially bad days, he simply sits. Since his childhood accident had the unfortunate side-effect of castrating him, his voice remains unchanged since youth. For this reason, he hates speaking publicly and usually entrusts his orders to his sisters to relay. He is very tall and yet lanky. He sports very androgynous looks and keeps his black hair cut short in the hopes of looking more like a man—it has the effect of him looking more like a young boy than anything else. He hates being mistaken for a woman and to somewhat combat this, wears a sword during occasions where weapons would be otherwise unnecessary. His family consists of: his father, mother, elder sister, younger brother, and younger sister.
 
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Lord Durran Baratheon


Alias: The Amethyst Stag
Titles: Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Lord of Storm’s End
Born: 376 AC
Age: 23
Spouse: N/A


History: Lord Durran Baratheon was born the second son and child of his Lordship, Stannis Baratheon during the Hour of the Owl in the year 376 after Aegon’s Conquest. Noted at the time of his birth for his distinct violet eyes, inherited from his mother the Lady Laena, and peasant stories of the colour of the morning sky during said time, he was quickly assigned the epitaph “The Amethyst Stag”. His birth, many might say, was mired in a mix of conspiracy and intrigue. Whilst the facts are surely known in the age I write this humble biography, it should be noted at the time that the parentage of Lord Durran was in great doubt prior to his birth. His dear mother, Lady Laena Velaryon, had recently come to scandal at court for her affair with Ser Montery’s Velaryon, her cousin. It is known that at this time, unless the son birthed from her loins had the Stags deep black hair, Lord Stannis would of had Lady Laena executed before the Gods for breaking her holy vows and committing heinous treason to his person. Ser Montery’s was not offered the same reprieve, however, and was challenged to a duel of honour by Lord Stannis. Ser Velaryon, noted in that time as an able swordsman, eager and bold, quickly accepted the confrontation between the two highborn men. The duel, by eyewitness account, was said to be over in but a minute, for Ser Montery’s had expected a calm fight as befits men of their high nobility, and Lord Stannis didn’t hesitate to crush him with all the anger and force of a Storm with his war hammer. The armour of the poor boy was said to be embedded within his chest, unable to be removed by the time of his funeral, it was buried along with his corpse. The drama did not end there, as the stress on Lady Laena quickly affected her mental state. She became reclusive, ill and some say slightly mad, and regardless of the child's parentage, many assumed it would be a stillbirth. The Gods saw fit to make it otherwise. When the boy came into view, the striking black atop his head clear to all, audible sighs of relief could be heard from all that were in the room. Then they saw the violet eyes. Lady Laena had not inherited her parents striking eyes, and doubt once more beset the castle. This humble Maester rightfully pointed out to the assembled crowd that such things were known to skip generations, regardless of parentage, though the Lord Stannis immediately entered a state of rage. He denounced his child, refusing to allow what he called a “Valyrian monstrosity” to pollute his line. Many interfered before his Lordship did anything rash, however, and Lord Stannis calmed like the seas that surrounded his fortress after simple explanations were made clear. The effect of his actions had already taken root, in spite of my efforts, however. For the Lady Laena, weak and troubled, had been pushed too far by the threats on her son's life and the birth which had torn her heart open so. She passed a few days after the boys birth. A preventable tragedy, further exemplifying the noble Baratheon trait of stubborn fury, regardless of its accidental consequences. Lord Stannis never remarried.

Moving on from these troubling events to later years, I had a hand in raising Lord Durran alongside his elder brother Raymond. Their Lord father was often not in his humble abode, attending business elsewhere or travelling on processions throughout the Stormlands. Whilst little Raymond had exceptional talents in sailing, accounting and other such pursuits, Durran was much more like his father. He quickly gained an attraction to the way of the sword, horse and, quite unlike his father, the mind. In those years, he was often found skipping studies on geography to read a book about the War of the Robert’s Succession. As an old teacher, I must say, it was a rather conflicting affliction from which I suffered. It was a most common childhood for a noble Lord, with the exception of his father's reluctant nature when it concerned his second child. As he grew, his ambidexterity was discovered, which only further quickened his acceptance as a squire to House Seaworth.

Around the age of his knighthood, yet another death hit the family. Only adding to the perception of a curse coursing through the veins of House Baratheon, as now not only the royal line was suffering. Ser Raymond Baratheon, heir to Lord Stannis Baratheon, whilst on a leisurely sail, was beset upon by Stepstone Pirates. This group of barbaric heathens captured the young Lord, demanding a ransom that would of broken the finances of the Stormlands for a year. Insistent that Stags do not beg, Lord Stannis refused to negotiate, believing that the Pirates would never harm a member of such a powerful house. He was sadly wrong. After the deadline passed with no word from Storm’s End, the only message received from this gang of thugs was the washed up, bodiless head of young Lord Raymond. Lord Stannis declared he would destroy the pirates that infested the southern waters, again, like the waves, his fluster amounted to nothing and the world continued onward.

As the new heir to the land, his father now took a much more active role in raising his son, even if it was mostly chastisement. The last few years of Lord Stannis’ life was dedicated to something that redeemed him slightly in this old man's eyes. Family. After years of distraction and bluster, the Lord finally made an effort. Did this only serve to deepen Lord Durran’s doubts about his father's affection? I cannot make that judgement. But at least the intent was noble. What I can say, is that the death affected the man deeply, having been thrown into a position of responsibility he never thought would come. Luckily for the illustrious Storm Lords, he strode through this, if painfully, to accept his duty.

It was only a matter of time until Lord Stannis was washed away, a heart attack taking him at an early age. So it was that Lord Durran of the House Baratheon ascended as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Lord of Storm’s End. In the years since, this Maester has seen him grow from a brave young boy, to a bold teen and now a noble Lord. After seeing Lord’s of Storm’s End come and pass with time, I am content that this young man, singular among his kin, will be the last I serve.

- An excerpt from Maester Luthor’s “Raging Storm”. An account of his time serving the noble House Baratheon.

Notes:

- Durran is ambidextrous, able to dual wield blades with much efficiency. If he were not a Lord, he would no doubt be on the Kingsguard. He is also a noted tourney winner, not a jouster of legend, but respectable, often placing at least in the top three of most major tourneys.

- As befits a Baratheon, if pushed, a rage can be activated inside him. This storm that runs through the blood is not to be mocked and can have consequences for the offending party.

- His knowledge of history, over all other subjects, is immense. A deep rooted belief lies in him that the past shapes the future, and to know the history of his house is almost as important and integral to securing future generations of it.

- His uncle, Ser Orys Baratheon, is often seen as the man’s go to on all subjects financial and administrative. The man more than eager to serve, his strengths best suited to this task. His distaste and rivalry with his cousin Olyver, however, often leads to...minor brawls at later hours.




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Full Name: Lord Lucien Lannister
Alias: The Ghost Hour Lion
Titles: Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, Warden of the West
Born: 374 AC
Age: 25 Years old
Spouse: Unmarried and Unbetrothed


History: Lord Lucien Lannister, Son of Lord Lyle Lannister was born during the morning hours, in the year 474 after Aegon’s Conquest. The birth had been a difficult one for the Lady Hightower, whom required immediate medical intervention. Tis by the grace of the Seven that she had not perished before the midday sun reached its peak.

His twin sister, Lady Ella Lannister, came into the world during the operation, less than ten minutes after his own arrival - which took almost six hours. It would be eight years before Lady Hightower could offer Lord Lyle another Son, Lord Gerold Lannister. The Birth of the twins had near all of Casterly Rock celebrating their arrival. The twins, both with the blue eyes and golden hair of their line seemed to suggest a bright and strong future for the Lannister House.

Less than two months past the birth of the twins, rumors reached the ears of Lord Lyle that some were suspect of their birth. Whispers of a long since ended line - The Line of Tywin Lannister, and his notoriously infamous offspring had resurfaced within the minds of public, who came to suggest that the newest Lannisters would inevitably come to imbibe within the same shameful pastimes, and perhaps for it - meet the same end. Lord Lyle, whom had been a man of quiet dignity and discipline up until that point, reacted with such harsh rebuttal that few now even know of these rumours. The Lannister Vaults were flung open once more, money flowing out, extending the reach of the Lion once more, inevitably having its jaws clamp around the necks of those who started the rumours, and all those who inflamed them.

While the rumours may have died down, Lord Lyle had the twins separated, having his daughter be brought up away from his home till the age of thirteen. Lucien, even as a baby seemed to notice the absence of his twin, often crying well into the night, despite the presence of his mother and his wet nurse. Despite this, the boy grew up to be particularly sociable, spending much of his time talking with servants and tutors alive about all manner of things, absorbing history, music, art, poetry, politics and - by far his favorite, economics.

Lord Lucien, showing early signs of a prodigious cunning and a keen eye in the ways of the bow, suffered in his youth to retain the academic focus needed to hone his natural intellect. His classes made him lethargic, and soon his father would let him loose from the clutches of their Maester, whom could not deny that outside of book learning, he seemed to master subjects at a whim, recalling details of conversations held years ago with ease.,

By the age of thirteen Lord Lucien had been the undisputed champion among the archers of Casterly Rock, his father insisting that he start his formal martial training before the year’s end. By the age of Fourteen he took to squire during tourney, by the age sixteen taking part and by eighteen being knighted. As of yet, he remains undefeated in placement, something Lord Lyle has never failed to praise.

What Lord Lyle has failed to find praise in however, is the Young Lord’s penchant for drink, festival and the more lascivious pleasures of the flesh. Often Lord Lucien would be found in taverns and halls, debating philosophy, art, music and politics late into the night, leaving with a few arms linked with his, waking late morning and generally roaring at anyone who would interrupt his schedule, such as it is.

Over the last few years these behaviours seemed to have calmed, as he has become more intent, more focussed and more capable in securing the future of his household. Lord Lyle has informed me in confidence, that while he does not dislike the sudden change in his son, he dreads the inevitable revelation of what might be the cause of this change - as very little to nothing has ever managed to change his son’s behavior in the past.

Fortunately, or unfortunately - depending on one’s perspective - Lord Lyle died less than four months after this conversation, leaving his Title and duties to his son, dying a proud father despite everything.

Notes:

  • Despite trying privately to learn how to read since he was six years old, Lucien has not been able to. He has managed to master the symbols and patterns of math, but has not managed to read anything more than a few words due to his Dyslexia.
  • He is a master Archer, privately believing himself to be the best in Westeros. He can think of maybe three who could give him a challenge.
  • He has a massive tolerance for alcohol, capable of drinking for hours on end and not feeling its effects. Some even suggest that he becomes more sharp while half drunk, capable of debating most people into a corner.
  • He has been known to debate people, and become bored as they are not keeping up, often giving them the counter arguments to his points so that he can start to formulate an answer - should they take too long.
  • While he loves his sister, they are quite distant from each other - despite their mother trying to get them to socialise after his father’s death.
  • When he works he wants quiet. Most of Casterly Rock often come to a standstill as he works during his “Busy Hours” Often an hour before noon, and two or three hours after. In those hours he manages to do more work than most people do in a month.

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Full Name: Galladon Steffon Seaworth
Alias: The Onion Lord, Galladon the Stern, Old Lord Gal
Titles: Lord of Evanfall Hall
Born: 332 AC
Age: 67
Spouse: Lady Shyra Connington


History:
Tis’ I Galladon Steffon Seaworth, Heir to The Lord of Evenfall Hall or unofficaly The Onion Knight although I’m yet to be Knighted… I’m certain that Lord Estermont will soon see fit to knight me, anyday now.

In honour of the crowning of the New King Baratheon a Tourney is to be held in King’s Landing, while I hardly like the city itself, it’s hardly a sight to look at compared to the Island of Tarth. I’m looking forward to proving myself in the tourney…

I crowned Connigton’s Daughter as the Queen of Love and Beauty, if my charm wasn’t enough that sure did it. Lord Connigton, while surprised didn’t seem to object.

Fermented crab tastes like shite, however it does have it’s merits. Got to make a good first impression.and I’m certain Shyra wasn’t disappointed.

Father passed away in his sleep. Always thought being the Lord of the entire Island of Tarth would bring me some sort of satisfaction, It’s a bitter feeling now that I’m actually Lord Seaworth.

Stannis Edwyn Seaworth, Finally a boy, I was starting to doubt myself, I shall apologize to Shyra. She didn’t deserve all those words I threw at her.

I have been entrusted with the care and education of the young Durran Baratheon. The Boy is yet to arrive but the letter by the Maester tells me that the child is not the most well behaved. Not that I expected any better, Baratheon’s and their legendary temper. May the Lord of Light give me patiance if half the letter is to be believed.

I have no words today, for a part of my soul has burned away with her and only the ashes remain.

Edric, Devan and Durran urged me to accompany them in an urgent matter, turns out it’s a fishing trip. Can’t say I regret giving into their demands the lads sure do know how to cheer an old man. Proud to say my youngest Devan managed to catch a musk fish not that the others didn’t do well for themselves, we’re gonna be feasting tonight.

Now that I’m in a better shape it’s time to write this down. Mere days before we’d set sail to the stepstones. I and my faithfull squire Durran were practicing horsemanship, the details hazy now that I try to think about it. All I know is that The Lord of Light struck me down with fury, I, for what? I do not know, I have always been a pious servant of the Light but I was there with an unimaginable pain in my chest, through sheer will, I have clinged to the remaining embers of my life that seems to be fading into the darkness with haste with each passing day, as befitting of a man of my standing I managed to keep the fire that is my soul alive, It’d be a shame if I passed on without avenging the murder of the young heir.. Of course The Lord must have seen that it wasn’t my time yet, for I had a duty yet to finish. and spared my life. Well on a less Theological explaination Durran ridding us back to the Maester must have helped as well of course, the Lad saved my life.

I write as we sail along the coastline. I feel at peace when at the sea. It feels odd knowing that in a week or two, we’ll be fighting with the damned Essosi Pirtates. Had I not been a Lord, I'd definetely be a fisherman, or a smuggler, maybe both who knows?

We were hailed as heroes in Storm’s End, Lord Stannis might not have taken part in our ambiitious raid but he certainly didn’t cut any corners when planning the celebrations. To say I’m honoured would be an understatement. Last time I saw such an event was all the way back when I won the Joust.

It feels odd now that Durran is no longer with us having stayed in King's Landing, sometimes I catch myself calling for him and the only thing that answers is the silence of the hall and those glances of the servants that seem to be getting more and more common.

Lord Stannis is dead and Durran is the Lord, he’s a good lad, if I still call him that but I have my doubts. Durran is not made out of Lordly material, he belongs in the field of battle. I have failed my duty to teach him about the matters of governance by being lenient in his studies, allowing the child to focus on martial skills was a mistake but how could I’ve known that his brother would die?

I can see them speaking among themselves and I can hear it as well, the courtiers are calling me old and they’re not alone even my sons are doubting my capabilities. My capabilities, my, the man who brought justice to the House of Baratheon by bringing the head of half the pirates in Stepstones to the Storm’s End. It pains me to see them like this, coveting my position while I’m still alive...

Stannis says we’re going to Harrenhall in a week’s time. I do not remember making such a commitment nor do I remember recieving an invitation.. I’d surely remember such an event. Alas Stan showed me the invitation letter and indeed soon there will be a celebration and I’m yet to make preperations...

Extracts from Personal Journals of G. D. Seaworth 347-399 AC

Notes:​
  • Celebration in Harrenhall, All Lord's will be in attandance. Do not forget to prepare.
  • Stannis seems to think he's in charge, this event will be a great oppoutuniy to show all the lords of the realm that Galladon Seaworth is still in charge
  • The sword feels heavy in my hands, perhaps I should replace it but it's always been my sword, I have no intention to have a new one forged

 
Full Name:
Clovis Tyrell

Alias:
The Wilted Rose

Titles:
Lord Paramount of the Reach, Warden of the South, Lord of Highgarden

Born:
378 AC

Age:
21

Appearance:

Clovis seems to be a scholar in every way, appearance included. With perfect posture, Clovis stands at an average height of 5’10 tall. He weighs about 112 pounds thanks to his illness and its effects on his body. Despite living in a generally sunny area, Clovis’ skin is rather pale as he has to avoid being in the sun for too long during the summer and can’t be in the cold too long during the winter. He has a noticeably frail body with a thin frame. His collarbone, a few ribs, and his spine are all visible protrusions from Clovis’ body. His arms are narrow and lead down to a set of thin fingers with short nails.

Like most of the Tyrells, Clovis has brown hair which he keeps cut short, usually reaching to his shoulders. Clovis inherited his mother’s hair and has loose waves that give it a bit of volume. He often wears it all out with a part down the middle or pulled back into a ponytail of sorts.

Despite his sickly appearance, Clovis has a face which exudes strength and confidence. He has a strong, square jaw that makes his head wide. Because of his sickness, his jawline is boldly on display. A pair of high cheekbones are emphasized by his thin cheeks. Above his cheekbones, Clovis’ sunken eyes are a dull, pale brown, almost as if the color had been drained from the irises. With an upturned shape Clovis’ eyes are accented by long lashes and neat eyebrows. He has a thin nose which trails down to a set of bow-shaped lips.

He has been known to wear a variety of styles, including long robes. He isn’t one for frivolous spending, so his clothes are all very mute in terms of style and design.

Spouse:
Unmarried & w/o fiancé

History:

Willas Tyrell, despite his injury was able to fulfill all of his duties to The Reach before his passing. Many praised him as a unique man among the Tyrell linage and perhaps that was why he was able to succeed. He eventually married a woman from House Fossoway, not for love, but eventually they produced children that brought them closer together. In his late 80s Willas passed away and was found in the stables tending to his legendary horses. He would be succeeded by his first son, Willas II.

Willas II was not as great a leader as his father had been, but his determination to be was well-known throughout the kingdom. He strived hard to make the same achievements in his own life and to make sure that he uphold the dignity of House Tyrell. While he was said to be as beautiful as the typical Tyrell male, Willas II was also known to be as dim witted. It wasn’t until he married a daughter of House Oakheart that he was seen in a better light. She helped guide him on academic and diplomatic matters.

Many years ago in, Highgarden, a boy was born to, Willas II Tyrell and his lovely wife. Their first child together who they named, Clovis rather than Willas because they feared they would lose him. Although the baby came into the world with ease, he was unwell. The Maesters and physicians had no name for the illness which plagued the newborn, but they predicted that it would never go away. Unfortunately, they were right. They named the condition, Garden Illness, after Highgarden since that was where the condition originated. As he got older, Clovis seemed to grow stronger, but never seemed to be free of his condition. His personal physician noted that the illness left him physically weak and made it difficult for him to gain weight. The illness also kept his body from controlling its temperature on its own. Oddly enough, Clovis didn’t sweat unless the heat was stifling. When he was hot, servants kept him hydrated and in the shade. When he was cold, they kept him dressed in heavy clothes and animal skins. Because of his condition, he spent more time indoors and studying than outside training with weapons like most of the other boys and the men. On his good days, Clovis was able to run around however and spent the time with his younger siblings. Afterward, his body would remind him of his poor health and he’d be bed ridden, but it was always worth it to enjoy the company of his loved ones.

When he became a teenager and was old enough to be married, Clovis’ parents presented him with several potential wives. He turned away the first few women and said he was too young for marriage and wanted to continue to learn. So his parents put off wedding talk for a while. In the meantime, he focused on his studies and learned all he could about leading and the things required of the, Warden of the South. He learned diplomacy by watching nobles debate and negotiate firsthand. Because they’re one of the richest houses in all of, Westeros, Clovis also focused on money management to ensure that when he ruled they wouldn’t have to worry about their money drying up. He learned from several tutors and showed promise. Every now and then, his illness reminded him of why he was forced to stay inside and study. The older boys who trained to be knights were enough of a reminder for Clovis as they sometimes picked on him and did things to show the difference in their lives. They’d goof off by windows where he could see just to taunt him. Even with his status and money, he could not do the things that they did. While it was annoying, Clovis looked pass it all. He had more important things to do than swing swords.

When he turned 18 and had proven to be a sharp mind, Clovis’ parents brought the subject of marriage back to the table. Although he wasn’t open to the idea, for the sake of his house and it’s future, Clovis agreed to marry a woman who seemed average in every way. They waited two years, to allow guests to clear their schedules, to let the money be put aside, and to have all of the plans perfected. A week before the wedding however, the young lord decided to take a chance. He had always felt different from other men and perhaps it was because of his childhood, but Clovis found women unattractive. He was more fond of knights, men. So with his wedding drawing near, Clovis decided to be brave. He met with a knight who he had discovered had feelings similar to his own and the two spent a single night together. In the morning a servant spotted, Clovis as he staggered from his bed chambers, burning with what seemed to be a fever. The Knight was able to slip away undetected while everyone attempted to help Clovis. Over a few days the physicians managed his health and when he was ok, he called off the wedding. His excuse was that he couldn’t willingly bring a child into the world if they might have his condition. So he named his younger sibling his heir should anything happen to him.

After their father died and he was given control of, Highgarden, Clovis has focused solely on building alliances and wealth. He has followed the order of the, Iron Throne and only gone against them when he could do so without being discovered. His free time is spent with his siblings, whenever he isn’t trying to survive his illness.



Notes:
  • He is known for being compassionate and is often said to be second only to The Mother when it comes to caring for others and showing mercy.​
  • His interest in men the best kept secret in Westeros as only he and one knight know of it.​
 
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Full Name: Ciona Robyn Arryn

Alias: Cici, Lady Arryn

Titles: Lady of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale, Warden of the East, Head of House Arryn

Born: 380 AC

Age: 19

Appearance: Fairly average in height, Ciona displays the characteristic Arryn traits: brown hair and blue eyes. She shares this with her siblings, as well as the refined and thin features that her mother's side of the family has. Her skin is fair and clear, having spent most days within the walls of the Eyrie or the Gates of the Moon. She carries herself as most nobles do, and just as her mother taught her to. When she isn't buried in some activity, her lips are pursed and her face tight in thought. She adores finer luxuries, adorning herself in jewelry and elegant gowns befitting a lady.

Family:
  • Father: Lord Carlyle Arryn DECEASED
  • Mother: Lady Edaline Arryn (nee Tully) DECEASED
  • Eldest brother: Lysander Arryn DECEASED
  • Younger sister: Alya Arryn, 17
  • Youngest sister: Cianne Arryn, 12
Spouse: Unmarried and not betrothed currently

History: Is it not a plague upon the house that certain histories befall it time and time again? House Arryn, as many times in the past, has been placed upon the head of its youngest heir: Lady Ciona Arryn. Though not the youngest child of Lord Carlyle and Lady Edaline, Ciona was quickly ushered into the role of Head of House due to the unfortunate series of events that led her mother, father and eldest brother dead.

Ciona was born 9 years after her elder brother, Lysander. Those 9 years were spent of Lysander beneath his father's wings: the great Carlyle Arryn, Lord Paramount of the Vale and renowned for his skill in combat and swordsmanship. He trained his heir diligently, while their mother doted on his then youngest daughter. Ciona was closeted from much of her brother's training as Lord, as well in combat but she had no qualms with it. As a child she longed to be equal to her sibling, but as she grew older she recognized the role she played and fit in it nicely. A mere two years after Ciona was born, the Arryns had another child: a girl, again. Lord Carlyle was devoted to his children, sometimes more than his wife or trusted steward, but the man clearly longed for more male heirs. His age was becoming a burden to him, and with his last ounce of strength, the Arryns had another daughter a few years later.

By unfortunate events, and strain at such his age with training and sword-fighting, Lord Carlyle suffered a stroke and passed in the night. All the while, his wife was a few months pregnant with their youngest. Balancing pregnancy and acting as Lady Regent of the Vale, Lady Edaline put every ounce of effort and love she had into her children and to her role. Lysander was just a boy, and still had substantial training left before he could properly ascend to Lord of the Vale. Ciona watched this from afar, sinking to her mother's side and aiding her in whatever efforts. This, perhaps, was Ciona's first taste of ruling. She accompanied her mother and brother to events and with daily tasks, up until baby Cianne was born. Her family warmly dubbed her "The Little Lady" due to her attempts of riding in her mother's shadow during her years as Lady Regent.

Eventually, Lysander came of age and was able to take on the role. Lady Edaline took the backseat, still attempting to drive whenever her son came to her. Ciona looked on, now with a taste of ruling on her tongue. She was immediately pushed back into her passive role, but Lysander took pity on his younger sister and would invite her to sit in and join him, just as she had done with her mother and brother earlier. In spite of such, Ciona preferred to remain in the background. She tended to her younger sisters and became entranced with the arts. A bit reclusive during her early teens, Ciona took to reading as much as she could. Before long, she forgot all of what it was like to have the pressure of lordship.

Tragedy stroke again when Lysander was wounded in a skirmish. He took to fighting often and aggressively, like his late father, and ended up paying the consequences. The infection persisted and developed worse and worse, until a battle with the chill paired up with the infected torso wound left the young man dead at 26. He was engaged at the time, and all remembered him for the confidence and courage he had. He was remembered as Lord Lysander the Courageous. Ciona was at his side through his battle with death, and held his hand when the mistress took him.

A few months later, aching of her broken heart and sudden loss of her son, Lady Edaline passed as well. Some say it was of a broken heart, and some say it was because she loved her son so much that she could not bare to live without him. Furious, confused and afraid, the title befell Ciona. She had gotten comfortable living on the sidelines that the switch in life, and paired the recent loss of two of her closest family members, rocked the young girl to her core. Trusty steward at her side through it all, Lady Ciona began her battle with grief and her concession of finally getting what she had wanted so fiercely in her youth.

Notes:
  • Ciona is steadfast to her House and Crown. If she knows one thing in ruling, it is to be loyal to those above and below you.
  • Still is learning how to properly rule following the loss of her brother.
  • Lysander and Lady Edaline died 2 years ago in the winter months.
  • She's a patron of the arts and enjoys picturesque views. Ciona has a talent for painting.
  • She's not one for combat or getting her hands dirty.
  • Ciona is reserved and well-read, using her words over her actions. She knows how to navigate a conversation, but has no tact in true subtlety.


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Selyse stands on the taller side of average, being 5'6". Known for her auburn locks and blue eyes, heart-shaped face and pale complexion; the Fair Maiden of Condon is an adequate title, the remnant of her youth as an unmarried woman. Slim for the most part with wide hips and small bosom, her waist oft cinched in to further display the petite addition. Remarked for her figure even after three children is something she prides herself on. Small hands make quick work for embroidery, always having some little rag wrapped around a fingertip after the unfortunate misdirection of a needle. The Lady Karstark carries herself with dignity and grace above all, no matter the situation nor weather. To see her as anything else is reserved for either her husband or close maids and friends.

Full Name:
Selyse Alysanne Condon

Alias:
Fair Maiden of Condon, Lady Selyse the Kind.

Titles:
Lady of Karhold

Born:
375 AC

Age:
24

Spouse:
Lord Walton Karstark ( High Moon High Moon )

History:
Selyse was born to House Condon, a lowly lord for a father under the banners of Cerwyn. Close allies of the Starks, it was clear from the day of her birth she would be married within the Northern borders to another man of her station. She was lucky enough to wed Walton, a Karstark and third born of the house. At the time they were betrothed, the little Condon was only eight and her future spouse twelve. It was something acknowledged on her visits to Winterfell and consequently romanticised as she became older. Nevertheless, it was a happy childhood, a safe one that kept her from the horror of war and famines, playing with Lord Cerwyn's daughters and handmaidens. She was educated to read, write, understand social etiquette and attend the duties a woman must. Embroidery kept her quiet, dresses were either stained with ink or from her horse riding and a love for reading gave her something to imagine on dull days.

There came those times where as she grew, the vision of a future began to take shape. She was young still but come her early teenage years Selyse's heart grew for Walton in puppy love, following him about or peering at him in the training yard with his fellow noble friends. Never confident enough to call for him but it was a game of running back and forth with a giggle; leaving her handkerchiefs in places so he may return them or other silly notions of her limited view of what romance was. In those days, she didn't know what power was, nor what it meant to be wedded to a man. Come her fourteenth, little Condon was bound to the Karstark in name and marriage. They were tough, those first weeks. Living in another home, her mother's farewell an open sore, whilst her bedding had left the little Condon hurting for home. Innocence can be taken in a short time but Karstark kept her sane. It was a double-edged blade yet Walt had always been dictated by tradition and his kindness in her darkest moments found forgiveness for him.

At fifteen, she gave birth to their eldest daughter, Alys. Whilst a young mother, she had never seen anyone so beautiful in her life. Selyse has doted on her since and for that, the little Karstark can be quite the handful, but as ever is the strength between mother and daughter. At seventeen, then came Alaric and lastly, when she was twenty she birthed Edwyn. However, everything didn't go quite as smoothly as they hoped, for Edwyn was a difficult baby and caused his mother much pain and discomfort during labour almost killing them both. As much as Selyse might love her husband and likewise Walton to her, it was decided for the best to be careful afterwards lest she die.

In any case, Lady Karstark would die for her children. With Walton having moved to inherit Karhold and being now given further powers as such; Selyse is determined to see her children be married well and give them something more than her own upbringing. To see them flourish as leaders and influencers, to teach her daughter the ways of a wife and the power they hold. Never underestimate a woman, nor her charity for weakness. Whilst she is as kind as they say, there is no limit to the things she'd do for her family. Whether that'll lead to blood on her hands or peace, time will only tell.

Notes:
- Her husband's confidante and trusted regent.
- Notorious for nagging Walton, caring to know where he is and whether or not he's interacting enough with the children. If there's something to nag about, she'll nag.
- The patience of a saint and a heart of gold. She'll take anyone under her wing, even at the annoyance of her husband.

 
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Full name: Anya Redfort
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Alias: N/A

Born: 378 AC

Age: 21

Spouse: None.

History: Born to a Redfort lord and a woman. Anya has always been half and half. She was half-wealthy, half-admired, half-seduced, and half-respected. Everything came to her in halfs. She is the fourth child of her father, Lord Robert Redfort, a man notoriously known for his amorous affairs and continous parties and dancing. Her mother was stolen by her father at a young age, and was made to marry him. The problem was, he naturally desired a male offspring but instead got her. Angered at the god's insult, her father ordered her mother's and hers execution right then and there but was stayed by the hands of his grandmother, who did not want innocent blood shed. So Anya Redfort was born upon threat of death and since been raised by a cold, heartless father who kept using her sex against her much to her continuing frustration and anger.

Thus was her continued existence in the Redfort bloodline, her Redfort blood the only thing preventing her from a truly miserable life. But even so, she had become an expert of staying invisible as a single word would get her a slap in the face by her father and ridicule from siblings. She has since become a loner. Not really talking unless spoken to. She has since become so invisible that no one ever notices her in the room, making her the perfect case of ears and eyes.

She works as a handmaiden to Lady Arryn. And also works as a spy of sorts as well.

 
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Full Name:
Urrigon Greyjoy

Alias:
‘Urri’, Iron Heart

Titles:
Lord Reaper of Pyke, Son of the Sea Wind, Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet

Born:
371AC

Age:
28

Spouse:
Lady Anna Greyjoy nee Harlaw

Family Tree (Recent):
Capture.PNG

History:
There could have been no birth more fitting for the current Lord Reaper of the Iron Isles. It was on the night of a deadly storm, that seemed to shake the very walls of Pyke itself. His mother, Gwyn Greyjoy nee Goodbrother, would have been a loving and caring mother for her son, had she not given her life for him to be born. This deeply wounded his father, former Lord Reaper Vickon Greyjoy, who wanted nothing more for the night but to keep his new son as close to him as possible. However is uncle, and drowned priest Euron Greyjoy, took the child from the castle of Pyke to its shores, so that he may carry out the ritual of the drowning that all true iron born went through. It was a risky task to carry out, it would have been no surprise to find a crew who sailed out in this night to was up on the shores the next morning bloated and rotting. But Euron Greyjoy was a fanatic, and would risk his own life as well to drown this child. However the task was completed, his uncle claiming that it was a sign from the Drowned God himself, that they had both been blessed and were meant for greatness. Lord Reaper Vickon however… was enraged. He beat his brother within an inch of his life, and very may well have killed him if it would not have stained him with the sin of kinslaying, which was one of the highest taboos even outside of those who worshipped the faith of the seven.

Urrigon was a very perceptive youth, he could easily recognise the torn relationship between his father and uncle. And he could see the two paths that they wished for him to take. His father wished for his only son to remain in his sight and safe, Lord Vickon was just as much of an ironborn as anyone else on the isles, he had been a mighty warrior in his own right and as hard as the rocks that they called home. But time and tragedy had worn that down, he had grown sympathetic for the greenland to their east, he believed that his son should resemble more a lordling that had been raised there. Well that is what Lord Vickon told himself, Urrigon knew that it was the fear of losing his son alone that caused his father to act like this. However his uncle, still as fanatic as ever, wished to teach his nephew of the Old Way, of what it meant to be who he was and great legends of his ancestors. As he grew in age Urrigon noticed more and more that his father and his uncle almost represented the two halves of the island. One who wished to be closer to the greenlanders, these people wished to continue on the path that Balon Greyjoy laid out before them when he swore fealty to the Young Wolf of the North. But there was still a great discontent that had only festered over time from the other half. People like his uncle who wished to go back, how curse Balon for selling away the isles and their young men for a foreign power who brought them nothing but words of gratitude and respect. And as all iron men know. Words are wind, and the only wind that can be trusted is the wind that fills the sails of the iron fleet.

And so Urrigon learned how to sail, but also how to trade, he learned to fight but also how to negotiate and write and read properly, he learned to drink ale from dusk to dawn and dawn to dusk again but he also learned when to temper himself, when to take and when to give. He grew up learning and gaining experience from both factions, both wanting to recruit the future Lord of the isles to their cause. But Urrigon had his own intentions… He fell in love with a girl from House Harlaw who he had been brought up alongside him at Pyke, they seemed to marry as soon as it was agreed upon. Urrigon did truly love her, but it also is not much of a coincidence that this united the two most powerful houses of the Iron Isles. And that was what Urrigon wanted. Unity, his people would get nowhere if they were fighting each other. So his dream was to unite them, forget the old way, forget Lord Balon. They could both be left behind in the end. Let them follow him. Lord Reaper Urrigon. He would carve out a place in the future for his people… One way or another.

Notes:
- Stands at 6’8 tall, said to be built like a castle wall.
- Is known to own a war axe styled ‘Nagga’, said to be a mastercraft of the iron isles.
- A natural sailor and an inspiring leader, there are few admirals that could be counted as his peer even among the iron born.
- Urrigon may never have showed his abilities in tourneys like warriors on the mainland would, or on raids as his ancestors would have. But still praises of his martial ability are heard on the iron isles all the same, even if many of those voices have not actually witnessed him in action. Perhaps that could be seen as impressive in itself.
A devout follower of the Drowned God and sympathetic to what the iron born called the ‘Old Way’, however Urrigon recognises the laws of the mainland and strictly abides by them, as well as making sure his bannermen do.
 
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Alysanne's fair complexion is alike most Northern maidens, with the addition of grey-blue eyes and long brown hair. Slender for the most part, standing on the shorter side at 5'1" with a strong frame. An avid horse-rider and sportswoman, she's athletically inclined. Nothing too remarkable for her shape, however taking on her mother's attractive features have balanced out what she lacks in bosom and hips. One of her hands is marred by a long scar from a rambunctious childhood, often tactfully covered with gloves after her late mother's constant harassment of its unladylike connotations. Dressed often to show off her thin collarbone, being one of the few aspects Alys is confident in, accentuated by a variety of necklaces and jewellery.

Full Name:
Alysanne Karstark

Alias:
The Iron Maiden

Titles:
Lady Karstark

Born:
378 AC


Age:
21

Spouse:
Betrothed to Ander Stark ( Rusty of Shackleford Rusty of Shackleford )

History:
Alysanne was born into house Karstark, respected and one of the Stark's closest allies. Unfortunately, life starting out was something she's never quite gotten over. The late lord and lady had a notoriously bad marriage, her father often putting more effort into his sons and her mother a detached disciplinary figure. The lack of attention she received manifested into troublemaking. Between having herself surrounded by a majority of brothers and her sister being married off, it never got any better the older she grew. Rebellion made her hot-headed, anger she shared with her father and siblings but unlike them who learned to keep it under wraps and not be ruled by emotion, she had yet to be taught. Nevermind noticed. Alysanne has forever been a 'silly girl' or 'stupid woman' to the mockery of relatives and guardsmen. There came periods where she had been promised care, promised that if she only were quiet she'd be rewarded. They always seemed to forget, just another day whereas to her it was heartbreaking in the ways romance couldn't hope to be. For that, she has yet to forgive them. As childish as it may seem, a grudge sticks like pitch; refusing to be extinguished.

As ever distrusting of promises, her teenage years wrenched her forth from invisibility. Lady Karstark died and Walton became Lord of Karhold all in a snap of time's fingertips, throwing the young woman into what could only be seen as distress. Selyse, three years older had attempted to befriend her but Alysanne distrusted anything of her brother. One who had disappeared for her childhood and returned only to again control her life further. She pushed him away, his sympathy and attempt to understand only to become a pain. Alys constantly tried to run away, refused to attend classes, rejected the notion she would be married and kissed stableboys to cement her position as unweddable. Walt, unlike her mother, took more action than a slap to the cheek. He had the boys beaten, locked her away for days at a time, and more often than not she'd sacrifice her pale complexion for bruisings. The greater good, he said, in teaching her to be a respectable woman. Over time and with Selyse's persistence, they did manage to become close enough to discuss things such as marriage -- if not for Alysanne's disregard to her sister-in-law as yet another pawn in a man's game. Time taught her that it oft couldn't be helped, especially come the birth of Edwyn which both terrified Alys at the thought of having children and if women were truly built to last at the beck and call of husbands.


As much as she wished to be as well-liked as her in-law, Alys couldn't help but become jealous of Walt's attention being spent on his family. Selfish as it might sound, there were times looking at the running rascals of Karhold she wondered what he'd do without them. Although desperate to lean toward her good-nature, there are times where Walton -- whether she liked it or not -- had become a second father. Between hating him and desiring a closer relationship, she's never managed to separate either. This has only served to complicate things further.

Reaching twenty-one, it was formally decided she be betrothed to Ander Stark, Lord of House Stark. It was a shock, ending in a tantrum and thrown items before Walton got involved. Being a spinster was preferable with the tales she'd heard of beddings, weddings, and if he was anything like her brother - impatient and tradition worshipping. The meeting at Harrenhall will prove to test her rage, especially with the Starks in the same room. If anything, Alys has questioned clawing her way out through the floors. The only benefit she sees in marriage is finally escaping her brother and his influence, only to be abandoned in a strange place with strange people -- awaking in a strangers bed.

Notes:
- Enjoys horseriding and walks, a fan of watching tourneys.
- Whilst politics isn't her greatest strength, Alys is a schemer and good planner.
- Being able to slink into the background is something she easily learned from her childhood. Words won't go unheard by this Karstark.
 





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Full Name
Ethamira Forrester

Alias
Huntress of Ironrath

Titles
Ethamira of House Forrester

Family
Father | Edderwin Forrester
Mother | Eleanor Forrester (née Mormont)
Brother | Alricht Forrester

Son | Elys Ander Snow (Forrester/Arryn)

Allegiance
House Forrester
House Stark

Born
377 AC

Age
22

Spouse
Once betrothed to Lysander Arryn

Appearance
A tad taller than most ladies, possessing a slightly tanned skin and very feminine features despite her somewhat very un-lady like personality. Unlike her mother who had always adorned herself in jewels and makeup, she dislikes jewel and wearing them makes her feel itchy, she doesn't mind bangles though. Since Lysander had died her eyes, as earthy as it may be, has this coldness in them, her face, strong and youthful, can most of the time be seen in a resting bitch face, something people had said that came from their grandmother who has the very same look every day of her life. Although at times, a smirk would appear. She presents herself with an air of confidence, like her father and cautiousness. On very important occasions she is willing to wear whatever it is a lady wears but she is mostly happy with more simple clothes such as pants and a tunic or just a simple dress.

History
Life in Ironrath wasn't hard. Ethamira grew up in a joyous family. Not that every day was all sunshine and rainbows but still it was something she was happy with. She's very close with her parents although her mother has always nagged that she should be more lady like, her father did not mind the brash and spirited attitude his daughter held, both rule with a kind heart but strict when it came to the laws of their lands. They believe in the old ways, like most Northerners. Her father has passed down executions and bloodied his hand whenever it has to be done. If he was merciful, an exile would suffice.


The people of Wolfswood were hardworkers, she'd often find herself surrounded by Ironwoods, by her people that lumbered the trees and turned it into shields, the lumbers were burly from all the swinging of axes and carrying of woods. Most people there would look as though they were always ready for a fight with their scruffy and gruff look but they are all festive people. They weren't much for war but they all make excellent warriors. Ethamira would always play with the kids of the lumbers, hide and seek in the woods or just a race to climb the top of the tree. Sometimes she'd come home with a bit of bruises and cuts to which her father would just laugh, while her mother can't decide if she is furious at what her daughter had done or happy that her daughter is having fun. Her parents would always dote on her as a child, by the time she was thirteen, their attention was divided to their newborn son, Alricht Forrester.

At first, she was pretty pissed at her unknowing baby brother but she couldn't resist how cute Alricht was. She found him to be the most precious thing since her pet bird. But something was different with her brother, he never moved his legs which they found out later that it was damaged since he was born. It was a saddening realization, but instead of mopping about it, as Alricht grew older, they showed support. Her father, Edderwin Forrester has always wanted a son to be his successor but he was unsure of his son in ruling, believing that others would exploit his weakness and has taught his daughter in secret with the politics, ruling and training her in archery as a precaution and so that she can help her brother when the time comes.

When she was 16 the members of House Arryn came by to visit. It was when she first met the Arryn siblings, more specifically Lysander. They didn't like each other at first, they often clashed in their opinions, but for Lys it was all because he wanted to tease her and for Ethamira, well she found him admirable and dashing but never wanted to show it. Their mothers saw it, joked that maybe their kids would one day be married. But Lady Edaline saw it as an opportunity for her son to rule with someone by his side. But they did it subtlety, making visits towards the Eyrie or the Arryns coming by to Ironrath, the trips weren't as frequent as the two family head would like but they stayed in each other's house for a significant amount of time to let their eldest children bond. After two years, with all the teasing and pushing them together, especially by Lysander's mother, the two announced that they accept to be betrothed to each other. One to stop their pesky families, and two they really did love each other but only confessed a few months after being betrothed.

The two took their time, not wanting to rush things since things were going well for them but they were also excited to finally be together. They were supposed to be married when she was nineteen but it kept getting delayed due to circumstances and was held back for a year. They were set to marry after the winter months when the green grass started breaking out of the cold white snow. Unfortunately, it never happened due to the death of Lysander in battle. She changed a lot after that. She was close with the Arryn sisters, but with what had happened has left her not wanting to see or hear anything that would remind her of Lysander, which led to the lessened visits to the Eyrie but still the connection between the two houses remains strong. Especially her son, Elys Ander Snow, who has the same blue eyes as her father. Something she looks at with bitter sadness. She tries her best to care for the child but her heart just breaks everytime she sees him. She helps her father to help lessen his tasks, what with his age and everything, as her brother starts his study to one day take the title Lord of Ironrath.


Notes
  • Still has that ebony flat bow that Lysander has given her with both their house words inscribed near the handle
  • She's got a penchant for listening in on other people's conversations
  • Albeit the gap in age, Ethamira did love Lysander and she knows the man feels the same way towards her
  • She's observant and likes to figure out if someone is lying to her, thinking of it as a way to pass time
  • She's good at making up stories, especially ones she would tell to kids
  • She likes to hunt, her father bringing her with him to teach her to use the bow and arrow, especially the small and fast ones

Mors Mors here's my char! Tell me if accepted.
 
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[/div][div class=fyuriheader] Identification[/div]
Name: Galahad Templeton

Occupation: Ser, Knight of Ninestars
[div class=fyuriheader] Attributes[/div]
Strength:
Dexterity:
Constitution:
Intelligence:
Wisdom:
Charisma:

[div class=fyuriheader] Skills[/div]
Sword Fighting:
Unarmed Fighting:
Horse Riding:
Strategy:
Speech:

[/div][div class=fyuribox2]
[div class=fyuriheader2] Galahad Templeton
[/div][div class=fyuriheader] General[/div]
Alias: N/A

Titles: The Knight of Ninestars

Age: 25

Born: 373 AC

Gender: Male

Race: Andal

Religon: Faith of the Seven

Spouse: Lady Rhea Royce (21)


[div class=fyuriheader] Appearance[/div]
Height: 5 ft. 11 in. (180 cm)

Weight: 170 lbs. (77 kg)

Build: Lean build, mesomorphic

Clothing:
[Combat] Gothic plate armor that is well kept with minimum scratches from training.
[Off-Duty] Linen tunic and pants like a normal lowborn.


[div class=fyuriheader] Persona[/div]
Alignment: Lawful Good

Ethics/Morals: Has a strong conscience and own set of ethics and morals. Will stay true to himself and the few trusted in his life. Disregards others' opinions and speaks his minded when justice is required.

Personality:
- Eccentric (honest to speak his mind)
- Vigilant
- Tempermant
- Indiscriminate
- Passionate
- Proud
- Patient

[div class=fyuriheader] Backstory[/div]
A family that has fought hard and sacrificed many for the land they manage as their fief till this day. Though they may not be as of equal status of the Lords of the Realm they aren’t easy to trample upon. Now the family that the late head of the House has passed away his groomed heir takes over with welcoming arms and high hopes.

Ser Galahad was born during the evening of 373 AC in the keep of Ninestars. The birth was relatively tough for his mother as it was her first, draining most of her strength, as it took her weeks to recover afterward.

Spending his early years learning about his family’s history and ideals, he was often prone to stern discipline from his father; the late Ser. As a child, Galahad, was quite cheerful and playful as he played with the servants’ children as well as lowborn. After being embedded with noble etiquette and knowledge he was sent to be squired by the Lord Paramount of the Vale at the age of twelve.
Taking his studies seriously as his aspirations to become a true knight like his father, he partook in trainings passionately while taking in as much as he could. Displaying a mild temperament as well as a patient mindset, the renowned Lord Paramount took particular interest in grooming this young lad into a good knight. While spending his time in The Eyrie he met many Vale youngsters who were also under the squireship of the Lord Paramount, becoming quite friendly with them as well as offering advice. Though some did hold grievance against his background from a lower house. Spending a few years under his wing, Galahad had learned much and was determined to expand his horizons. Upon the hearing that the Lord Paramount had passed away from a stroke he quickly requested to be sent to the border between the two kingdoms for experience under the Lord Heir, Lysander, which was allowed.

As a sixteen year old squire his eagerness for combat put back by many of the older soldiers and knights, but after many months of waiting his patience was rewarded as he joined Lysander in a skirmish which he was wounded in combat, a slash to his back and penetrating his thick leather vest. Being shown mercy as a young teenager the combatant left and Galahad was recovered and treated quickly. Fortunately no infection was sighted and he recovered, however his Lord Heir was unfortunate in the manner and passed away. Spending the next few years on the border and partaking in a multitude of skirmishes he was ordered by his father to attend a gathering at Winterfell in his steed.

Accompanying a large caravan of representatives from the Vale, he arrived to the summer gathering with raging excitement as he recalled that he was related to the Starks in the previous generations! While at the gathering the Lords and landed knights were briefed of the events of the gathering and were to partake in a tourney. Being the representative of his house he requested to take part and proved himself by becoming a semi-finalist, displaying a responsive-defensive swordplay that many would call cowardly. Though in the semi-final he was struck down by a renowned warrior of the North. After the tourney he was knighted by the Lord Royce of Runestone at the age of twenty. As the gathering finished up, Galahad had left confident and had gained much experience. Upon returning to the Vale he was then married to a lady of House Royce to further deepen the relations between the two houses.

Now married and having a son and a daughter at the age of twenty - four, Galahad woke up to saddening news. His father had passed in his sleep. Being next up in line for the title and groomed all his life, Galahad was quickly situated into his new position as the Knight of Ninestars.

[/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
 
Full Name: Ormond Hightower

Alias: The Lord of Sails

Titles: Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Voice of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Beacon of the South

Born: 362 AC

Age: 37

Appearance:

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Ormond stands at 6”2, square shouldered and has a broad/stocky physique, with a weather-beaten face, his light brown bordering on ginger hair is worn short, with a smattering of facial growth of similar colour. His eyes are like that of the sea in a storm, blue fading into grey and bottomless. He has several small scars and nicks apparent on his face, but is otherwise unblemished.

Spouse: Lynesse Tarly (Deceased)



Family:

Father: Roger Hightower (Deceased)

Mother: Jeyne Redwyne (Deceased)

Brother: Leo Hightower (Deceased)



History:

Ormond was born into the house of Hightower, despite being sworn to the Tyrells they are a Great House in their own right, tracing their lineage back to the Hightower Kings of Oldtown. Now a bannerman of House Tyrell they are perhaps the most powerful house in the Reach after their liege lords, their wealth stemming from their lordship of Oldtown, the principle city of the Reach, the richest city in Westeros and the second most populated after King’s Landing.



Ormond was born as the second son of his father Gerold Hightower, two years younger than his older brother Leo. Leo and Gerold were like chalk and cheese, where as Leo was fair haired and willowy, Gerold was always big for his age, a scrapper and a schemer, where as his brother was more interested and books and a far more dutiful child. Whilst not as book smart as his brother, growing up in Oldtown meant having teachers readily available from the Citadel, and so Gerold grew up with an above average education. Having come of age Leo remained with their father in Oldtown, Gerold however was sent to the his mother’s family as a squire. It was here that he solidified his love of sailing. Whilst he had always been interested in ships, having grown up in the mighty harbour city of Oldtown, the Redwynes controlled the Reach’s largest navy, traditionally one of the 3 great navies of Westeros alongside the Iron Fleet and the Royal Navy. He spent his time split between the Redwyne court, and the common sailors and captains of the fleet, learning the skills of seamanship from them first hand. Gerold remained with the Redwynes until the age of 17, when disaster struck, age only 19 his brother Leo was killed, accosted by bandits on the Rose Road from Highgarden, Leo had never been much of a fighter and the bandits, unaware of who they were trying to rob, slit the young lord’s neck whilst he slept, his body was discovered 3 days later, when his absence was noted at Oldtown. Their mother Lady Jeyne perished soon after of a broken heart, leaving Gerold as the sole heir to the Lordship of Oldtown.



A scant 4 years passed until his father died of natural causes and Gerold inherited his father’s titles at the age of 21. He immediately took the hand of the youngest daughter of house Tarly in marriage, securing an alliance with another of the Reach’s principle houses. The Hightowers as lords of Oldtown and the main trading port of Westeros, had historically preferred trade over war, growing rich of the tariffs charges on merchants from afar entering Oldtown to trade. Gerold however flipped this on his head, he began investing large sums of money into a comprehensive ship building scheme, to surpass even the Redwyne Fleet, and perhaps even the Iron Fleet one day. Gerold was martial by nature, seeing this time of peace as a way to bolster House Hightower’s power base.



For 15 years Gerold has been a staunch and loyal bannerman of House Tyrell, using his newly formed and rapidly growing fleet to protect the Oldtown shipping routes along the Whispering Sound and the coast from Blackcrown to the Mander. 2 years ago however personal tragedy struck, his beloved wife Lynesse died in the throes of childbirth, along with her son. This was the fourth stillborn child they had suffered, and this time Lynesse through what was thought to be a combination of a broken heart and physical exhaustion passed as well. Gerold is now left childless and is getting no younger, and as the last Hightower of his line finds himself at a crossroads. He has increased the power of House Hightower and yet if he is not careful, with his death the House will be no more.



Notes:

  • A keen soldier and sailor, schooled in the art of naval and land warfare, however it is at sea that he is most comfortable.
  • A skilled swordsman and champion of several minor tourneys in the Reach during his younger days.
  • Abrupt and suffers not the fool, and though he may appear harsh and blunt, he is not unkind.
  • A loyal bannerman of House Tyrell.
  • Though he nominally follows the Faith of Seven he is by no means a devout follower, preferring the company of Maesters to Septons.
 
Ser Arnolf Florent

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Age: 41

Titles: Brother of the Night's Watch, The Wandering Crow


Biography

Depending on who you ask, Ser Arnolf Florent is either a hero, a fool, or a trouble-maker. Some claim he is a devout religious man, others that he's an amoral manipulator. Some even whisper that he tried to be a king. But to understand him, you first have to go back a hundred years...

The Florents suffered greatly during the War of the Five Kings, with Stannis' host decimated they were reduced to merely knights, homeless in the Stormlands. However they maintained influence in the south, partly due to them sharing close blood-ties with the Baratheon Kings but mostly due to spear-heading the spread of the faith of Rhollor in the Stormlands that continues to this day.

From an early age Arnolf was told and retold of how his family were denied their rightful lordship of the Reach after Aegon's conquest. Of how they'd had their ancestral seat of Brightwater Keep stolen away from them, pawned to some cadet branch of the Tyrells. He was instilled with the kind of anger only a righteous idealist can have and it was to have terrible consequences. Arnolf was a dangerous mix of cunning and ambition.

Maester's would later call it 'The Fox Rebellion' as the Citadel was a place for learning and not imagination. It was notable for trying to achieve several, almost contradictory goals at the same time. To his own men Arnolf claimed to be fighting to restore house Florent to Brightwater Keep, to the Stormlanders who followed him (and some lords who secretly funded him) he claimed to be spreading the faith of Rhollor to the Reach. And to the smallfolk he recruited in the greenlands he claimed to be a liberator, there to bring independence to the Reach. He succeeded in none of these goals.

After an initial burst of victories the rebellion quickly stalled and soon became overwhelmed, Arnolf tried to resort to a protracted guerilla warfare but was inevitably rooted out. The fox had one trick left to play though, he and what remained of his forces agreed to surrender without a fight on the condition they be allowed to take the black and trouble the Westeros no more.

The Seven Kingdoms had not seen the last of Arnolf Florent though. A man of some prestige arriving with a not inconsiderable force of recruits put him in a position of influence in the Night's Watch; particularly with an ageing Lord Commander. It wasn't long before Arnolf was named as the new Wandering Crow, travelling across the realms searching for new recruits. A keener eye might spot that he had a habit of bringing in former rebels to the Watch or men with a grudge against those in power. Probably just a coincidence.
Notes:
- Lead a failed uprising in the Reach eight years past called 'The Fox Rebellion'
- One of the more outspoken followers of Rhollor in Westeros
 
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Lord Rendal Bolton
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Alias: The Shattered Skinner
Titles: Lord of the Dreadfort
Born: 372 AC
Age: 27
Spouse: Unmarried

History:
Rendal was born alongside his sister within the halls of the Dreadfort to Lord Erac Bolton and Lady Talana Bolton (née Umber). The pair of siblings had a standard upbringing, a general education and training befitting of any noble house’s members. Raised to be a strong and tactful leader, the young heir was also trained to proficiency with a blade and bow, as well as being taught the intricacies of war and battle. Unlike other lordlings who may have resented or were uninterested in their early lessons, the Bolton eagerly welcomed any lecture or drill that awaited him. Fueling this motivation was a strong sense of duty and loyalty to his family, having a close connection with both of his parents and his twin throughout his childhood.

In his late teen years, the Bolton heir was betrothed to the fair Laina Cerwyn as a means to cement the good relations between the Northern houses. In spite of the sudden arrangements, the pair of adolescent nobles got on well with each other and formed a comfortable friendship. `Their correspondence involved regularly exchanging letters and the occasional visit to one another’s respective seats of power. Slowly but surely, it appeared that genuine affection was developing from the predetermined pairing. While the budding relationship between these noble youth only strengthened with time, it was apparent that both parties were at least a little hesitant and nervous to definitively tie the knot. Though it certainly delayed the day they would finally marry, neither houses considered it as too much of a setback, allowing the couple proceed at their own steady pace. After all, any outsider would have declared the enamored couple a perfect match, and many were delighted at the prospect of authentic love in the cold and ruthless North.

Years elapsed before a date for the wedding was finalized. As the fateful day approached, many were eager to see the two Northerners finally wed. It felt as if it was an eternity since they had been promised to one another, and Rendal could not have been happier to welcome Laina Cerwyn to the Dreadfort in the month leading up to the anticipated event. But a mere two weeks after her arrival, rumors spread through the Dreadfort like wildfire, witnesses claiming to have seen the fair Cerwyn fraternizing with a lowly commoner—the son of the castle’s own kennelmaster. The Bolton heir could hardly believe such whispers, unwilling to accept that he had lost his lady’s love to another, a man of low-born, nonetheless. The house was utterly disgraced and humiliated at the aftermath of these suggestions, and with only one week remaining before the wedding’s scheduled date, the event was canceled and the vows all but renounced. It was an unspoken assumption that there had been too much scandal involved for either family involved to carry through with the rite.

A heartbroken Rendal was forced to cope with his loss, years of communication and affection spent only to be left alone again. Many of his closest friends and family seemed to empathize with the unfortunate heir, now left without a partner by his side. He met with a somber Laina on many occasions after the incident, still willing to correct matters and to mend their relations. But above all, he had wanted to hear the truth from his love’s own mouth. Yet time after time again, the lady denied the heinous accusations and was unwilling to sell out her commonborn lover. Eventually, the Boltons’ patience gave way to frustration and anger of the ridicule their house received. Lord Erac Bolton decided to take matters into his own hands, relentlessly interrogating the kennelmaster and his family in true Bolton fashion. Within a week, it was revealed that the rumors reflected the truth as Lady Cerwyn wept when the kennelmaster and his family were never seen leaving the Dreadfort again.

As predicted, an all but broken Rendal called off the wedding, unable to face his betrothed after the abhorrent sequence of affairs. It was ultimately decided that all would be forgotten, and Lady Laina would be returned to Castle Cerwyn. Bidding her a remorseful farewell, the Bolton heir believed that his and the house’s misfortune would end there as he looked toward the future. Much to his surprise and despair, his future was only met with further betrayal. Rather than riding directly to Castle Cerwyn, Lady Laina had stopped by the Northern capital of Winterfell, informing the King and Warden of the North of the events that had transpired in the Dreadfort. Made aware of the Boltons’ persisting practice of flaying, thought long abandoned and abolished by the law, the Northern Crown decidedly punished the house. In a deed of so-called “mercy,” Lord Erac Bolton was sentenced to serve among the Night’s Watch as penance for his crimes and for tolerating the torturous acts within his keep.

As for the still-grieving Rendal, he was left with a strict warning and order to terminate the act of skinning. Although his silent rage and screams of injustice were felt among those who remained loyal and served under the Bolton family, the ascending heir had little but no choice to remain compliant and subservient with the Crown. And thus, his first duty as Lord of the Dreadfort was a decree demanding the end of their traditional methods, though in his delivery, all men of the Dreadfort knew his words were just as hollow as he.

Notes:
• The people of the Dreadfort assigned him the moniker of “The Shattered Skinner” out of empathy for the adversities he faced.
• Although solemn and obedient in his youth, recent events have shaped him into a much more bitter and stern man.
• Maintains a close relationship with his mother and sister as well as his people, but otherwise is hesitant on trusting anyone else.
• Remains loyal to the new King in the North, knowing better than to defy the Crown.
• Has taken to the kennels himself, unable and unwilling to seek a new man for the job given the new vacancy of the position.
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Full Name: Maria Bolton
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Titles: The Shattered Lady, the Untouchable One, The Two-Faced Lady.
Age: 27
Spouse: None
History: Like her brother, Lord Rendell Bolton, Maria Bolton led a wholesome life of comfort and luxury as Lady Bolton. She was kind and generous, and took to her studies with a vigor that captivated her teachers. She was very intelligent and did not rebel against her father or brother. She was everything that a great House wanted, kind and generous, obedient, courteous. The people loved her, and she loved the people. And like all members of the great House, she too was shocked and stunned by the betrayal of her brother’s bethrothed and then downright angered when the Northern King banished their father to the Watch, and forced her brother to become the Lord of his people and dismayed to see her brother, once joyous and happy, become cold and bitter. She, herself, maintained her generous nature but it would seem that the Bolton house was cursed, for eventually a horrible thing would happen to her as well.

While she was out picking flowers and generally being generous to her people, her party was ambushed and during the ensuing struggle, Maria Bolton was kidnapped and taken away from Dreadfort, where she was tortured relentlessly and raped multiple times by the men who kidnapped her. During her captivity, she would befriend a local serving girl, who gave her some comfort during the torture, but even then her mind was slipping gradually and prone to paranoia. Eventually she turned from a proud and generous Lady into a muttering half-starvedwomen that was paraded around the camp for everyone to see, and the serving girl was there to see the proud lady slowly lose her mind.

By the time Lord Bolton had gotten a ransom, Lady Bolton was so mad that she didn’t even recognize her own brother or her own home when she was finally dumped there. She actually screamed and pushed him away when Lord Bolton had hugged her in his fervor of seeing her again. In her madness she actually thought everyone who touched her was going to hurt her, and thought it was another prison. Adept a luxurious one. It took a month to break her but it took nearly a year for her to recover, wheras she was deluded and catatonic for weeks on end, but would come back in episodes of lucidity that eventually get longer and longer. When she finally did fully recover, the Lady Bolton was so drastically changed that the people actually started to fear her. She gained the title of the Shattered Lady after her ordeal but the title the Untouchable One was given much later when a commoner, in his haste to greet his fair Lady, made the mistake of grasping her hands firmly in his. The generous demeanor immediately turned into a cold one, and she pulled her hand away so fast that her nails sctratched the palm of his hand, causing him to bleed. The commoner was so stunned that he fell to his knees, in which Lady Bolton looked upon and actually laughed at, a high unstable laugh that she had developed during her recovery. The commoners drew back in sudden fear, afraid suddenly that she would punish the commoner. She did not. Just had her guards grab him while she explained, whilst still laughing that unstable laugh, that no man should touch her. She immediately called the guards off afterwards. Ever since then she had been duped the Untouchable One. And by more observant people, the Two-Faced Lady, prefering to her sudden shifts in personality at any given moment. She has since then worn gloves, unable to bear skin to skin contact.

Notes

  • With the notorious exception of her brother, Maria Bolton despises men, believing them to be nothing more than cock-crazed unthinking beasts that prey on women, regardless of comeliness.
  • She has a sharp knife with her at all times when she goes alone.
  • She never feels safe outside of Dreadfort.
 
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Full Name: Aruku

Alias: Former Slave from Essos

Titles: None

Born: 370

Age: 29

Spouse: None

History: Was born from the frequent meetings between a Yi Ti slave and her Volantis master, was used for house labor until the age of 13 where his master started to use him in fight clubs. Was trained by multiple martial arts masters in a harsh, fast and cheapest manner in order to increase win rate. Until the age of 16 he did not see life outside of the walls of his city, only doing so in order to participate in a bigger tournament being held in another city not to far away. Until he was 28 did he and his mom try and escape using a trade ship vising the harbor before going to Old Town. However hiding room only had space for one, and before he could do it Arukus mom sacrificed herself, getting the port guards attention by making a scene. The last time he saw her, she was getting tackled to the ground by one of the guards.


Notes: Aruku is a well built man, around 6,4 with a half Asian half Caucasian look to him, he has a scare on the side of his face where his slave tattoo used to be.

Can speak Yi Tish, Valryian and Westerosie

Is skilled in many forms of combat and learned eventually to improvise on the spot if need be.

enjoys tea (Would enjoy talks with his mother while drinking it) and cake frosting (master would reward it if he won a fight when he was young)

Always speaks with a calm tone to most people

Is a gentleman by nature and would rather prefer peace than bloodshed
 
Full name:
Marissa Frey

Alias:
Missy Frey

Titles:
Scion of House Frey of the Twins

Born:
382 AC

Age:
17

Spouse:
N/A

History:
The younger twin of the sixth-born son of the Lord of the Crossing, it is often said amongst the Frey clan that Marissa’s brother must have snuck her past the careful gaze of the Seven Gods, for no deity would be so cruel as to curse a girl with Lord Edmyn Frey for a father. Marissa was the youngest of seven children, with six elder brothers all vying for their father’s attention, and she was forced to fight for every scrap that she received, an ironic fate, considering the vast wealth and influence built up by her family over the past hundred years, though the Lords of the Crossing came from a notoriously greedy stock, and it was not uncommon for them to take much more than was necessary. Such was the primary vice of Marissa’s father Edmyn, mocked amongst the Riverlands as ‘Lard of the Crossing’ and ‘Lord of the Seven Courses’ for his voracious appetite, and hefty frame, though Lord Frey himself was known to have a good sense of humour about such jests.


Growing up amongst so many close kinsmen made Marissa wiley, as we was not like to get moment's peace without first having to earn it, and any praise received from her father meant first superseding all of her brothers, and finding an activity in which she excelled greater than them. Her brother Walder was the heir, and had no need to compete for his father’s gaze. Her brother Edwyn had a certain level of intelligence and low cunning that made him adept at counting coppers. Hoster Frey was an adept horseman and duelist, and his father had often claimed that he might make a competent tourney knight had he not ‘had a face like a donkey’s arse.’ Danwell had long ago failed at finding the niche in which he fit, and had resorted to drowning his sorrows in his cups, though Marissa had always found him to be the most amicable of her siblings in his few moments of sobriety. Bradamar had the voice of an angel, and had previously been skilled with the lute, though that talent was lost after his right hand was taken by a Pentoshi Magister after a particularly rowdy tune. Robb was the most ambitious Frey, and followed his father like a second shadow, waiting for his opportunity to shite, and Marissa was… A girl.


Though, like many of her kin, Marissa could not be considered beautiful, for her eyes were too close set for her to be pretty, and her face was marked with pockmarks and freckles, she represented a strong match for any potential suitor, for Edmyn Frey was as rich as we was open handed, and she was likely to come with a substantial dowry. But she was Lord Edmyn’s only daughter, and whilst the Freys of the past had been eager to sell off their brood for a few copper pieces, the new generation of Frey was a very different beast.


Whilst in her youth, her brothers had teased her for being the only girl in the family, for being small with knocked knees and unable to train with them in the yard, dubbing her ‘Little Missy Frey’ a nickname she still resents, her gender now became her way into her father’s heart. He doted on her, and whom she would wed, contemplating the sons of a hundred lesser lords, though Edmyn Frey had ambition, and he would not settle for anything less than the best.


So it came to be that Marissa Frey was bundled up in furs and sent north to the Northern capital of Winterfell, where she would serve as a handmaiden to the Queen in the North, the wife of King Asher I Stark, where her father had hoped she might draw the attention of Crown Prince Ander, so that House Frey might once again claim to be consorts of the Winter King, as had been the case under the reign of King Robb I, when Stark had wed Frey to seal an alliance and cross a bridge.


Unfortunately such plans did not manifest, as Prince Ander proved to be shy and withdrawn, and Marissa was unable to properly indoctrinate herself into his circle. Instead, the Stark Prince would be promised to a northern woman of House Karstark, and not long after rose to become King after the death of his father. Marissa returned to the Twins in shame, years older, yet still unwed and unbetrothed. Now her father intends to find her a different husband, though he still clings to the hope that the King in the North would change his mind about the Karstark match, and instead seek companionship from his southern subjects.

Notes:
Like her kin, Marissa Frey is not blessed with great looks, with a small chin, stringy brown hair, and mean eyes that are close set upon her face. Her frame is small and frail, in contrast to her father, and she suffers from knocked knees that cause her to walk with an unusual gait.

Marissa is close to her eldest brother, Ser Walder, known as 'Grey' Walder Frey, though many doubt that the heir to the Crossing is long for this realm. He suffers from a disease of the blood, requiring him to endure continued leeching, leaving his face pale and grey.

The immediate issue of Lord Edmyn Frey. For the entire progeny of House Frey is too great to list.

House Frey are loyal subjects to the King in the North.
 
Full Name:
Dorren Drumm
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Alias:
"Red-Hand"
"Scorcher of the Summer Sea"
"The Undead"
Titles:
Lord of Old Wyk
Born:
373 AC
Age:
26
Spouse:
None
History:

Throughout the years since The War of the Five Kings, House Drumm has upheld their pledge to house Greyjoy fighting in their armies and as Captains in the navy. Being seated on the ancient Island of Old Wyk, the holiest of the Iron Islands they've remained entrenched in their beliefs of the Old Ways. Dorren being the youngest of his brother's was never expected to rule, instead he was groomed for command and taught in the art of war. During his teen years he was a star pupil in strategy and gifted a gifted swordsman, with a demanding presence and strong voice it was clear he would be worthy Iron Born captain to sail under the Iron Fleet. However, with all these gifts the child had, he was infamous for his hedonistic lifestyle that he indulged himself in as he came of age. No longer spending his times with the warriors and men of arms of his household, but instead carousing and sailing alongside reavers that still sail the seas beyond Westeros raping and pillaging in the name of the drowned god.

Under Stark rule the Ironborn was expected to abandon the ways of old, no longer were the noble houses permitted to practice the Iron Price so Dorren's adventures was often disapproved of by his father. House Drumm had been a strong supporter of house Greyjoy for years, sailing under the Kraken into battle for the King of the North in many conflicts earning their name as renowned warriors. While Dorren's father and elder brother wished to be known more as great warriors of song than dreaded reavers of infamy, yet Dorren remained stout in his beliefs of the Drowned God and grew a resentment for a family them as weak and sounding more like the Greenlanders of the mainland. As Dorren grew into his twenties, he could rarely be found in his father's court, instead manning his own Longship The Seas Scorcher which has been reported raiding the coasts of Slaver's Bay and the Summer Islands. While his Father's displeasure and disdain grew, his fame among the Drowned men and the Iron born of Great Wyk grew. He was seen as a hero to those that still yearned for the days of Old when the Iron born commanded fear from Westeros, the Drowned men going so far as to name him a true champion to the Drowned God.

Because of this however his father feared that not only would his actions lead to conflict from the Stark King, but feared the talks of those who would rather see Dorren as Lord of Old Wyk, rather than his elder brother undermining his father's power in court. Because of this Dorren was given the choice to set sail from Old Wyk and to never return or to be arrested for Piracy. This angered many and infuriated Dorren to disbelief as he felt betrayed by his father, because of this that very night he not only sailed off with a quarter of his father's ships but as well with his family's ancestral Valyrian Steel sword Red Rain. Fearing that this will embarrass his house and standing in the realm, his father fabricated a story saying that Dorren simply drowned at sea, hosting a fake funeral and all. The truth however, that for years his small fleet of longships terrorized the Summer Islands and Slaver's Bay, far from the realms of Westeros where Dorren earned his sinsiter reputation.

While carousing with his men at a Port in Volantis, Dorren recieved word from the Old Wyk that his father had long passed and his brother laid dying from a wound suffered fighting for one of the minor conflicts between the two Kingdoms. While many now believed Dorren long dead, himself going by the name of Red-Hand instead of Drumm, the Iron Islands debated who would take rule of Old Wyk. Many minor nobles contested their rights to the honor, some of the other Great Houses of the Iron Islands as well, but all their petitions and declarations was put to end once Dorren's feared flagship back into harbor.

The prodigal son of Old Wyk has become a champion for the old ways since he claimed lordship over the Island, just as he navigated the waters of the seas of the world, he intended to navigate the politics and intrigue of Westeros with intent of furthering his ambitions and that of the Drowned God. Being the most vocal to the Greyjoys of not only the return of reaving to the Iron Islands, but even that of it's independence from it's Stark overlords. This has earned him many enemies, but even more allies and support among the Iron Islands, attracting many a warrior to pledge him their swords.
Notes:
- His Long ship Sea Scorcher is decorated with the hands of fallen foes in battle​
- He has a bastard daughter of age six
- Considered by most to be rude and lacks the proper manners of court, often is loud and unruly during feasts
- His personal guard is made of his crew of Reavers who are fiercely loyal to him from sailing with him for half a decade
- The right side of his face is deeply scarred from cheekbone to jaw.​
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Full Name: Walton Karlon Karstark

Alias: Karstark the Warden

Titles: Lord of Karhold

Born: 371

Age: 28

Spouse: Selyse Alysanne Condon ( idalie idalie )

History:

Being the third son of Lord Karstark was an unfortunate start for Walton, being the product of an dysfunctional marriage, neither Lord Karstark, who was too distracted by his two sons and Lordly duties and Lady Karstark, who rarely if ever showed attention to the young Karstark was an problematic childhood to begin with. Always envying his elder brothers for they seemed to get all the attention he craved.

He was sent to Winterfell to be a ward of the King at the age of 8, a prestigious position for a noble, and a good way of securing good relations with the Monarchy. And for the Young Karstark, leaving the cold and dreary halls of Karhold were a blessing sent forth by the Old Gods of the Forrest.

A Cosmopolit environment, That was what Winterfell was, a stark contrast to the isolated Karhold. Lords from every corner of the Kingdom could be found wandering the halls of the keep. The time in Winterfell, eight long years. Lord Tully’s first born son and Blackwood’s second were also present along with him. Winterfell had served as a home more than Karhold ever did.

Court politics and administration, The notion of the century long peace was a novelty and war could break out anytime, for the Kings of the South never renounced their claim over the Northern Domains. brute power could get you only so far, and certainly was not enough to run a Kingdom as large as that of King Stark’s. Delicate balancing of Diplomacy, Intrigue and necessary actions of force were the three pillars keeping the Kingdom together. Alliances between the major houses sealed by marriage ensuring that no one group of Lords were overpowering the King and his loyalists.

Married Selyse Condon, a match orchestrated by the King to appease Lord Cerwyn a long time ago. While Walton would have sought to marry to a more… Respectable house, he had no say in the matter as the third son of Karstark.

One day, a raven arrived from Karhold bearing ill news. Walton’s brothers were dead. Killed in an accident in an Seal hunting trip, with only two of the five retainers that were with them at the time surviving the encounter with the massive creatures. He and his new wife had to move back to Karhold, the cold, forgoten Karhold.

Now the Lord of Karhold for the last six years, Walton has marked his rule as an ambitious man, seeking to expand House Karstark’s influence in the politics of the realm. His recent initiative to fix and renew Karhold’s design is a testament to the man’s ambition. Architects from The South and Beyond the Narrow Sea were called into service, with labourers being hired from all corners of the Northern Realm. All of them working under Karstark’s employe to turn Karhold into a proper seat of power, a Keep that coıuld at least house a few hundred rather than a few dozen courtiers. Of course the fact that the century long peace, a rare occuruance in Westeros, helped finance these expansions. A full coffer is always a boon for a new Lord.

It is believed he turns a blind eye to certain practices in his realm, citing them as traditions of the culture but Walton Karstark denies these allegations, calling them baseless rumours spread by the likes of his cousin Lord Bolton to smear the Karstark name.

Notes:
Walton Karstark chews sourleaf a lot and thus has red stains on his teeth.
(There will be additions)
 

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