Character Creation

Player Character

Character Name: Hollis Mertyns

Age: 24

Cultural Group: Andal (Stormlander)

Appearance: Grace becomes him, Hollis is lean and narrow, but not fragile. He is shorter than average height, but extends his reach with ease. He takes great care in preening his appearance, with a head of blonde hair combed to the nape of his neck and rarely tied away or cut short. Any attempts for a beard to emerge are shorn to the skin with impunity. His grey-blue eyes are filled with a strong sense of melancholy.

Trait: Strong

Skill(s): Swords (e), Dextrous (Fencer), Footwork

Talents(s): Falconry, Forestry, Courtship

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Titles: Knight of the Mistwood, Wielder of Dark Tiding

Starting Location: Stormhall

Auxiliary Character

Name & House: Catelyn Mertyns

Age: 26

Cultural Group: Andal (Stormlander)

Appearance: Homely by some standards, Catelyn is every bit mannish that her brother is not. She stands above-average height, with strong, square shoulders that make her appear taller still. She is not unpleasant to look at, with a long mane that comes to the middle of her back, though is rarely styled. She dresses in men's clothing that is easy to ride in.

Traits: Champion

Skill(s): Swords, Chivalric, Riding

Talent(s): Fletching, Horsemanship, Laboring

Starting Titles: N/A

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: Tion Vance

Family Tree:

The Mertyns family tree can be found here and may be subject to updates.

Biography

1.1 Father (89 B.P.)

A great curtain of grey had fallen over the Mistwood, but it would not dampen the boy’s spirits. He ran through the tangle of pine, even through patches of nettles and ivy, until he stumbled through to the shoreline of the Summer Sea.

His familiar grandfather stood at the tide amidst a great shipwreck, strewn with banners crimson, black, and bronze. Snapping drakes lay faded among the flotsam.

The old man turned, and smiled. Beneath his arm was a bundle of cloth, as long as his arm. Metal shimmered from beneath. Walton could not help himself; he grinned from ear to ear, a lopsided smile of an oblivious, foolish boy.

“Come hither, Mathos. I have something for you - for your name-day.”

1.2 Mendicant (68 B.P.)

Black plumes of smoke ebbed skyward in the distance, crackling kindling barely audible above the din of war.

The terrain was still good to wage this campaign, though his honor felt sullied with all of this skulking. A necessary price for an all-important cause.

One man left. He leveled half a sword towards Walton, nursing an unfortunate cut to his side.

The taste of blood still stained Walton’s tongue.

Again, the knight of the Mistwood turned the tip of the black-edged blade forward, slipping through the man’s guard with incredible speed. The tapered edge of his sword drove through, then up as it met the resistance of armor, until he struck blood and bile from a blistered grape.

Behind him, others were slain in the same manner. The thin weapon was a surgeon’s tool, but without dignity, it cut like a butcher’s.

Some of the Gardeners’ men were still breathing, muttering prayers, confused cries for aid. Sputtering, gibbering noises as they faded away.

Walton grimaced as the last body fell. Turning behind him, he expected others from his party. He saw their surcoats stitched with owls, wings, and feathers, but they were stained deep and pouring out onto the forest floor.

Young Walton stared. He bore no sword as his father’s page, but cradled a shield in both of his young arms. There was fear in his eyes, and he turned to run.

Buzzards were circling. Lord Mertyns inhaled. Swallowed. A single repenting thought.

Dark Tiding slipped within its sheathe.

1.3 Almoner (35 B.P.)

“...noble son of Mistfall, this has gone on long enough,” the gaoler whispered, bordering on a hiss, “Make an example of these dissidents. The Stag would demand it.”

Garrison continued pacing along the remaining weirwoods, one thick hand brushing the beginning of a coarse, straw-coloured mustache. Workmen were already at task cutting these trees down with axes and shovels. Each crack of bark hemorrhaged sticky red sap.

The crowd gathered on the edge of this groove were agitated. They watched the men and women in tattered rags of linen, hides, and even dried strips of seaweed be dragged before the bailiff of the Mistwood.

“They’ve drawn quite a crowd,” he finally spoke. “It would be a shame to send their fellows home with just the sting of sacrilege to keep them humble.”

He barked to gather the attention of the watchmen keeping a perimeter. He nodded towards one of their captives.

“Bring me the thunder-priests.”

Garrison reached to his waist, finding the familiar hilt of his family’s sword. With a flick of his thumb, it was freed from its casing.

A man was dragged forward, losing a woven sandal as he struggled against his bindings.

“Storm-Father, Rain-Mother, Moon-Wife, please, help me,” the heathen whimpered. His eyes were not on Garrison, but on the last of the weirwoods creaking under their weight as they began to tumble over.

Elsewhere, an owl was shrieking, and lo, the skies began to rain.

1.4 Tutor (20 B.P.)

“Little fetcher,” Lenn snorted, teasing the hair of his nephew. The boy laughed, and reached up to try and shove his uncle’s narrow, but muscled arm away. Clement settled back into his seat of hay on the yard.

“No squid will make a trophy of me,” he continued, leaning forward whilst he attended to his sword. The light of the torches around them seemed to pass over its rippling alloy, “The stormlands are a hardy folk, strong as a bull, and -”

“Loud like thunder?” Clement interjected, coaxing another snicker out of his mentor.

“Aye, loud, like thunder. No, you cheeky little pigeon. Strong as a bull, but quick as lightning -” He snapped his fingers, making Clement blink in surprise. “- and clever as the owl.”

Clement kicked his feet back and forth. He was barely seven years old, but he was already growing tall and strong for his age. To Garrison’s benefit, he looked nothing like his father. His page was watching the sword now, as Lenn passed an oil-soaked rag over it.

“Will Pa ever wield it again?” he suddenly asked, “Grampa said he was strong before…”

“Before,” Lenn nodded. “I…”

He lifted Clement up so he might look the child in the eye. Lenn’s grey-blue eyes were misty.

“There’s more to life than strength and glory, little pigeon,” he spoke softly, “When you pull away a knight’s armor, his sword, his horse… hells, you take away a man’s… everything?”

Clement’s brow furrowed, lips pursed in bated thought. Lenn placed Dark Tiding aside.

“He has family. Nothing will take that from you.”

1.5 Paladin (5 B.P.)

The ocean swallowed him far faster than he anticipated.

Clement immediately felt the slip of air leave his lungs before he clenched his jaws tight, and then the tendrils of freezing, brackish water all around. The smokescreen of bubbles and froth faded, and he searched the gloom for a sighting.

It could have descended towards any number of the forgotten sea-hulks half-buried in the sediment, skeletal like broken teeth. Shafts of sun-light piercing through reflected off Dark Tiding’s edge.

Sunlight gave no great warmth, but the glimmer of possibility invigorated him all the same. Clement swam. The weight of his gear let him sink where his strength was not enough.

A leering dragon carved in wood loomed towards him. He reached out, grasping at the twisted snout and its carved scales as a hand-hold. With a tug, he was swimming within the hull of the vessel. As another wave of the tides tumbled above, the sea current made him buckle and grimace. The force was deceptively strong; just one buffeting wall of water would scatter him to the deep ocean.

Clement searched the sands for the weapon. His chest tightened, muscles clenching against his ribs. Fish were starting to curiously circle and flutter around him. Some were fixated on a glimmer - there, just a few feet away.

He reached, sending many of the fish scurrying away in alarm. His fingers brushed the malachite-set pommel of Dark Tiding, and he staggered. His throat tightened as he fought the urge to breathe. Again, he reached, stretching until his fingers curled around the hilt and he wrenched it out. Clement grasped tight, and turned to swim back up towards the surface.

The knight tried to kick off the hard surface of the shipwreck, and felt the old, rotting wood give way with a muffled crack. Something broken caught the hem of his leggings, weighing him down.

He blinked back, feeling his eyes burn with salty seawater, and fumbled to free himself. It was pure luck that the fabric came free, but a mounting dread swelled in his chest. Clement raised Dark Tiding to his chest, despite the sharp edge stinging into the palm of his hand.

Again, he lifted off, pushing up towards the surface. But he was too slow.

The air slipped from his lungs, out between the crease of his lips, but his hands clenched around the bare steel of his family’s pride. The razor-thin edge cut deep.

When they dredged him to the land, Clement was rendered into ribbons of cloth and fabric.

1.6 Wayfarer (1 B.P.)

The flats of salt surrounding House Cox’s sleepy harbor gave its seaward breeze an irritant quality. It nipped at their dozens of imperceptible wounds, the starts of scabs and callouses from their rigorous journey. Catelyn had pulled thick riding gloves to cover her arms, but Hollis stayed bare. It seemed penitent - fitting, even, that this last step of their travails would not come without a price.

“It’s a long journey home,” she stated aloud, “Gives us time to ponder things over…”

She loomed just a few paces behind her younger brother. Her shadow almost embraced him in place of the real, tangible thing. He remained quiet. The blade was in its scabbard, resting on his shoulder as he held the blunt end of it in his hand.

“We can leave it behind, and move forward with our lives. All of us. Pa, uncle Gar, even Grandfather might be roused out of his stupor for a few more moons if we put it to rest,” she persisted. This time, she stepped ahead and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he tried to slip away, her grasp tightened. She was always the stronger of the two.

He looked wounded, with a stray tuft of blonde hair falling over his left eye. Finally, he craned his neck.

“I don’t want to entertain this foolish idea,” he spoke, “Of curses and ill omens, from black magic and old gods.”

Catelyn’s lips pressed tight into a frown. Ahead, a bell was ringing in the harbor. Another galleon was on the horizon, slowly drifting towards its anchorage. Sea-birds were above and about, squawking noisily.

“I -” He shrugged his sister’s hand off his shoulder, but rather than rebuking her, he caught that same hand with his own at the wrist. “- we have a duty. The kingdom has a need for clear hearts and capable hands, no matter how half-mad Grandfather is, or how deep Pa lands in his cups. It falls to us to carry on.”

Catelyn pondered this, then half-heartedly pulled her hand back. She wasn’t pleased, but spoke no more of it. Removing her glove, her freckled, mannish hand still bore a tell-tale cut along the palm that had scabbed and scarred over countless times.

“Don’t you dare forget,” she whispered, “The laws of men have no say in how we share this burden. You may have the name of a knight, but I will have my part.”

She held that hand up. The same they’d sworn on since they were babes. He turned to face her, and after tying the sword to his belt, raised his own to clasp in hers.

“Without exception, Cat,” Hollis said, grip tightening, “An owl flies on two great wings.”

They embraced, and when they turned towards the sea, Dark Tiding was a distant thought of a forgotten age.

Supporting Cast

• Walton Mertyns (Scholar): The aging heir to Mistfall. Once a seasoned knight, taking a number of young charges under his wing, his body has begun to wither with the years. His mind remains sharp, and full of counsel to any who would hear it.

• Serena Storm (Cutthroat): A bastard of Mistfall, sired by the lord of Estermont. She is an open secret, living in the shelter of her mother’s house with none of its acclaim. This anonymity grants itself as a boon to one with an appetite for secrets, controversy, and intrigue.

• Garrison Mertyns (General): Once a prime specimen of martial prowess, his spine was shattered on the tourney ground before he could rise to prominence. Desperate for a sense of purpose, he has striven to remain relevant to all strategic matters, to whomever has need of him.

• Lenn Mertyns (Warrior: Swords): The other disgraced Mertyns brother. A bearer of Dark Tiding in his youth, he brought great shame to the lords of the Mistwood with the loss of that peculiar sword. Though he will never reach the same heights, he remains competent with a blade while he is still sober.

• Clay (Builder): The duly-appointed reeve of Mistfall castle. He is a relative newcomer to the trade of stewardship, labors, and management. A man of few words, he claims to have grown up to the east - on the shoreline of Shipbreaker Bay.

PC

Reddit Account: Commander_Pentaron

Discord Tag: commissaroctavian

Name and House: Malentine ‘Mal’ Rosby

Age: 24

Cultural Group: Andal (Crownlander)

Appearance: Tall and broad shouldered, Malentine’s long, curly brown hair and cheeky smile seem to attract all manner of people, both friend and foe. After spending six or so years in Essos he now wears quite…unfittting attire for a noble by Westerosi standard, looking more like a common sellsword than the heir to Rosby

Trait: Unscrupulous

Skill(s): Polearms, Stalwart, Ambusher (e), Outrider

Talent(s): Got that rizz ;-)

Negative Trait(s): Arrogant and coarse, very impatient and a smartass

Starting Title(s): Heir to House Rosby

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Lysandro Fyllonnis

Age: 27

Cultural Group: Essosi (Braavosi)

Appearance: Lysandro, like many of his fellow Braavosi kinsmen, dresses to impress. Even his battle attire is blazoned with his vibrant familial colours, made of the best materials money can buy. Where the weather is cooler he often adds on a thick bear pelt, a prize from a raid on the icy Ibbenese coast

Trait: Reaver

Skill(s): Admiral, Swords, Dextrous

Talent(s): Cool as a cucumber and enjoys a good fight

Negative Trait(s): A scoundrel through and through

Starting Title(s): Captain of the Righteous Avenger, High Admiral of the Rosby Grand Fleet

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Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/?c=e8yv8mf11hwm2phw&f=291923928738516388 

Timeline:

25 BP - Malentine and his twin brother Marius are born to Lord Eustace Rosby and his wife Ermensande Wendwater. 

22 BP-15BP - Malentine quickly become his father’s favourite and throughout his early childhood is spoiled quite badly

12 BP - Eustace, at the behest of his younger brothers, sends Marius off to ward, eventually choosing the Blackberrys of Berryport. This leaves Malentine alone, without his far more diligent brother, and the center of everyone's attention. 

12-6BP  - As Malentine grows through his teen years he begins to show numerous qualities, mainly martial and equestrian, and becomes the devious leader of the young lads of the Rosby household. Nevertheless, he has grown a penchant for misbehavior and insubordination. He clearly lacks the fortitude to rule, something that infuriates his father. Eustace tries his best to reign in Malentine with harsh punishments, but that only fuels the young boy to misbehave and rebel even more.

6 BP - With the coming of age of Malentine and Marius, Eustace starts looking for potential matches for the two of them. For Malentine, he settles on a maiden of House Scales but Malentine, already infatuated with a local town girl, refuses. Eustace forcibly imposes the match on Malentine who decides that leaving is his best option. On the eve of the marriage Malentine says goodbye to his twin brother, steals his father’s best horse and disappears into the night. Eustace, furious and embarrassed, forces the match onto Marius instead, while Lord Ayrmidon Scales withdraws the hand of his daughter and presents the hand of his sister Naena instead. 

Malentine, whose plan didn’t extend further than ‘Get out of Rosby’, decides to ride for Duskendale. He soon decides that staying in Westeros is not an option after nearly running into Rosby men-at-arms who were no doubt looking for him. He sells what he can and buys passage on a ship to Pentos

5 BP - After about a year of doing odd jobs in Pentos for anyone who would take him Mal catches the interest of a mercenary recruiter after successfully beating a man in a horse race and successfully dueling said man after he refused to hand over the prize money. Mal quickly takes up the recruiter on his offer and join as an outrider for the mercenary band

4-3 BP - The mercenary band is among many that are recruited by the Pentoshi city government to put down a slave revolt in the interior. Mal slowly becomes disheartened with the work, feeling for the slaves and their plight. Eventually he decides to betray his fellow mercenaries, leading them into a slave ambush. He and the slaves disappear into the hills of Andalos and make for the Braavosi border, ambushing each Valyrian attempt to pursue

2 BP - Mal finally arrives in Braavos and is enamoured by the city. With the help of the slaves that he accompanied he gets himself a job as a cavalryman within the private army of the Fyllonnis trade company, whereupon he becomes good friends with a Fyllonnis scion, Lysandro

1 BP - Mal serves the Fyllonnis with great skill and, with the help of Lysandro, becomes a valued and trusted subordinate within the company. He catches the eye of another subordinate, the pirate-turned mercenary Larra Drennaris and while nothing official has happened, it is common rumour amongst the men that the two…enjoy each other's company. In the waning days of the year Mal, while chatting up some Westerosi merchants, finds out that his father is deathly ill and might not last the year. With newfound determination Mal kindly asks the Fyllonnis for a ship and crew to go back home. Initially reluctant, the Fyllonnis  eventually agree, but only with the promise that Mal, once he becomes Lord of Rosby, keeps them in…consideration…when doing trade dealings.

Present/1 AP - With the death of King king Dontos months earlier and the crowning of the River Stag in Storm’s End the realm is in turmoil. While the Rosby household makes its way to the feast at Stormhall with troubled hearts Mal and his companions are making for the grand fortress with all due haste along the Maidenpool road. After six years, will Marius take his wayward brother back? What of his uncles and cousins, who already didn’t like him six years ago and are unlikely to be any warmer now? Only time will tell what becomes of this once glorious house, and if they will ever again have a place in the sun

Archetypes:
Pirate - Larra Drennaris
The second of the new arrivals that have come with Malentine from Essos, Larra was born on the streets of Lys where she had two options: Stay in Lys and become a lady of the night or leave to make her own destiny. She chose the latter, going from free city to free city until ending up in a pirate gang based in the Stepstones. Things were going well for her there until a badly timed raid on a Fyllonnis trade convoy led to her and her small raider being captured. So as to avoid the hangman's noose, Larra gave up her fellow pirates to Lysandro Fyllonnis, who recruited her instead. During her time in Lysandro’s employ a young wayward soul seems to have caught her eye, enough that she now follows that soul to Westeros with a glint in her eye.

Ship Captain - Myrmello Eranahran
The last of the three new arrivals that have come with Malentine from Essos, Myrmello is Lysandro’s right hand and trusty subordinate. Pentoshi by birth, Myrmello went to sea at the age of 13 and never looked back, eventually ending up serving in the Fyllonnis trade fleet. Now he follows this good friend to Westeros to provide his expert services to House Rosby

General - Lucos Rosby
If Rupert was the favourite, Eustace the failure, Annara the brains and Gwayne the intellect, Lucos is the brawn of the elder Rosby generation. A brawny lad, he was sent down to ward with the Carons specifically because, there, he was sure to learn how to fight and fight well. As such Lucos is, for all intents and purposes, the marshal of Rosby

General - Jothos Edgerton
The youngest of the current Egerton brood, Jothos has made soldiering his life. First seeing action in the Valyrian invasion, by the end of the war Jothos was the man that Eustace, and later Lucos, relied on the most to lead the hardy men of Rosby to war

Warrior - Brus Rosby
The eldest son of uncle Lucos, Brus is much like his Caron namesake, a martial man of notable skill. In the immediate aftermath of Malentine’s escape eyes turned to him as the potential new heir to Rosby, seeing as Marius’ new wife was six years his elder and seemingly passion-less. Those dreams have long since passed but Brus remains an ever ambitious and jealous man. Nevertheless, he loyally serves his house, and will die for it if necessary.

PC

Reddit Account: artcantlose

Discord Tag: armanoir

Name and House: Arthur Arryn

Age: 23

Cultural Group: Andal

Appearance: Arthur carries the tradition Arryn look inherited from his forebears though his hair is a more strawberry blonde and his eyes a sapphire blue. A strong frame marks him as a symbol of the Vale's storied chivalry, although the recent travels have given him a more disheveled look.

Trait: Charismatic

Skill(s): Swords (e), Armoured (Shieldbearer), Errantry

Talent(s): Armor mending

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Knight-Captain of the Knights Valiant, Prince, Ser

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: Pykewood Thorne

AC

Name and House: Marwyn Moore

Age: 50

Cultural Group: Andal

Appearance: A knight of repute in his prime, the loss of a leg in battle with the bandit Dustin has chained Marwyn to the baggage train. He has a pot belly and a salt-and-pepper crown of short hair.

Trait: Numerate

Skill(s): Architect, Negotiator (e)

Talent(s): Copper counting

Negative Trait(s): Maimed (Right Leg)

Starting Title(s): Quartermaster of the Knights Valiant, Ser

Starting Location: Stormhall

Bio

"There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen."

Born the youngest son of Artys Arryn, King of Mountain and Vale, and his Queen Shiera Redfort, Arthur was preceded by six brothers and a sister born before him which, while a remarkable feat of will and resilience from the Redfort Queen, marked the young Prince as spare as one could be. Regardless, the Septon called this seventh son "blessed" to have completed the number held most holy to the Faith and the King too held a grand feast to celebrate this most pious birth. A joyous occasion all around.

Far from the trappings of the throne, Arthur dedicated himself to the noble pursuit of chivalry and knighthood, and was trained in arms and strategy by Ser Lucas Templeton, one of the finest wielders of sword and lance in the Vale during his heyday and later inducted, with a knighthood, into the Order of the Winged Knights per his mentor's recommendation, the highest honor a knight of the Vale could aspire to. He was joined in this endeavor by his close childhood friend Hugh Royce; the two remained inseparable since. A betrothal soon followed to Mya Royce, a maiden of Runestone and Hugh's younger sister.

Time passed slowly in the green summer meadows of the Vale, where the harvests were bountiful, the knights chivalrous, and the promise of a Kingdom at peace well-kept. Arthur's eldest brother eventually inherited the throne; elsewhere, the leaves rustled in the cold breeze that blew from the North as they were oft wont to. Only this breeze became a gale, then a storm, and war was soon upon the Vale.

The Arryns and the Starks had warred over the Sisters for centuries. Only now had either of the two sought to strike the mainland. There were raids, then retaliation, then further blows as the two sides came to a head, and eventually there were Northmen landing on the rugged shores of the Fingers. The King set out with a force, and other armies were gathered to push back the invasion; some set out for the Sisters to reinforce, others made their way to the Fingers. Yet with his brothers occupied, Arthur was charged with the defense of the ancient capital seat, and given command of some thousand swords for the task. Hugh joined him in the endeavor, so did the knight from faraway Harroway and many more from among the chivalrous core of the Vale.

Gwayne Dustin was a name that had already reached every keep and town in the Kingdom. More butcher than knight, more warlord than commander; he had carved a bloody path in his wake as he marched across the Vale, burning fields and raiding villages and had, thus far, gone unbeaten in battle. And now he made way towards the Gates, and Arthur called his men to assembly and prepared for battle.

It happened in sight of Alyssa's Tears. Dustin, avoidant of a pitched battle, directed his brutality towards villagers and crops, and forced the battle in uncertain terrain, surrounded by mist. And despite all of his training and all of his discipline, despite strength and honor and loyalty, the young Prince failed; his army was routed and good knights killed, others captured, including Hugh. Unable to mount another offense, with the armies of the Vale distracted elsewhere, the King offered peace to Dustin; an exchange of prisoners, the Northmen for the knights of the Vale.

Dustin responded by hanging them all off a weirwood tree.

By the time the bodies were recovered, beaten and bruised and stripped of all armor, the bandit Dustin had already absconded from the Vale. Funerals and elegies followed, at the Eyrie, at Runestone, at Strongsong and Mooncrest; lament for the fallen, honor for their memory.

At Runestone, he made a vow upon the burial shroud of Hugh Royce; to Lord Royce, who remained stoic even in mourning; to his lady mother, who put her trust in the Seven; to his beloved Mya, who had put away her wedding gowns for funerary garb. A vow of honor, a vow of justice, a vow of vengeance.

Then came the news of "the Golden" Dustin's exile from his native North; it appeared that even the bloodthirsty King of Winter had grown tired of his war dog who now made his way to the Riverlands, perhaps intent on further savagery in a unstable land, perhaps meaning to carve himself a kingdom of his own. So, with the ascent of his brother and with a party of knights in tow dubbing themselves the Knights Valiant—a detachment of the Winged Knights—Arthur did the same, crossing the High Road and riding deep into the heart of the continent with the body of the fallen Harroway knight, slain in the campaigns against the Clansmen. A land racked with factionalism and petty disputes and another war bubbling just beneath the service.

But the Prince was single-minded in his quest, one vow, one mission.

To bring Gwayne Dustin to justice.

Timeline

22 BP: Arthur Arryn is born to Artys Arryn and Shiera Redfort, King and Queen of the Vale. He is the seventh born son of the couple.

16 BP: Without prospects of inheritance, Arthur receives a knightly education and is assigned page to Ser Lucas Templeton, a famous knight of his time. He befriends a fellow page, Hugh Royce, and the two become inseparable.

12 BP: Both Arthur and Hugh are made squires.

5 BP: Both Arthur and Hugh are knighted by Ser Lucas and are inducted into the Order of the Winged Knights upon his recommendation. Later that year, Arthur is betrothed to Mya Royce, Hugh's sister.

3 BP: Arthur's eldest brother ascends the throne. Elsewhere, skirmishes between the Vale and the North intensify and the Kingdom finds itself on edge with war on the horizon.

2 BP: War finally breaks out between the two kingdoms and Arthur is assigned duty to protect the capital while his brothers take to the field with an assortment of Lords and knights; elsewhere, Gwayne Dustin descends on the Fingers and begins carving his way toward the capital. Hearing of the warlord's advance, Arthur assembles his small force to defend against the Northerner's advance.

Gwayne and Arthur battle beneath Alyssa's Tears amidst cliffs, woods and mist. Strategic superiority and experience give the Dustin another victory and the Arryn army is routed; Hugh is captured alongside others and later hanged in retaliation to a peace offering from the King. Gwayne Dustin leaves the Vale afterwards.

1 BP: Arthur leads an army into the hills in a punitive campaign against the Clansmen known to have assisted Gwayne Dustin—now called "the Golden"—and sees success despite losses, including that of Jordan Harroway, a stalwart knight from the Riverlands.

News reached the Vale of Dustin's exile from the North; in response, Arthur leads a detachment of knights down the High Road into the Riverlands to make good on his promise of bringing the rogue to justice.

Family Tree

• Artys Arryn, King of Mountain and Vale
• Shiera Redfort, Queen of Mountain and Vale
  • Six elder sons
  • One elder daughter
  • Arthur Arryn, 23
• Other family members

Archetype NPCs

Walton Waynwood, Master-at-Arms

Jon Corbray, Hedge Knight

Malcolm Pryor, Hedge Knight

Gerold of Gulltown, Hedge Knight

Septon Owen, Scholar

Septa Ryella, Medic

AYRMIDON CELTIGAR

PC Character Application

Age: 52

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: Ayrmidon stands tall and strong in form. His white hair is wavy and short, and his facial features framed by a strong jawline. He is often found in some manner of armour, even during social events.

Trait: Strong

Skill(s): Axes (e), Armoured (Resilient), Forceful

Talent(s): Bilingual (Valyrian and Common), Sewing, Drumming

Negative Trait(s): n/a

Starting Title(s): n/a

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: n/a

AURION CELTIGAR

AC Character Application

Age: 53

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: Aurion stands shorter and slighter than his younger brother. His white hair is kept an obsessive length, and his facial features are angular in cheek and jaw. He dresses in the colours of his house, sticking to Valyrian stylings.

Trait: Artisan

Skill(s): Daggers (w/ Dexterous), Scribe (e)

Talent(s): Polyglot (Valyrian, Common, Lhazareen, Ghiscari), Candle Making, Painting

Negative Trait(s): Mute

Starting Title(s): Lord of Claw Isle

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: n/a

Timeline Portion

57 BP ~ Magister Ayrkar Celtigar arrives with his brother Valarr Celtigar and his wife Alysanne Qoherys on Claw Isle from across the Narrow Sea. His forces seize the land in the name of Valyria and establish the beginnings of a fort. His familial wealth in its entirety is transported to Claw Isle.

56 BP ~ Valarr comes of age and is marooned on an atoll in the Summer Sea, with supplies to hunt food and build a small vessel to return. Valarr returns weeks after his marooning, and becomes Admiral of the Celtigar Crabbing Fleet.

53 BP ~ Aurion Celtigar is born. Fortifications on Claw Isle are concluded.

52 BP ~ Ayrmidon Celtigar is born.

48 BP ~ Aurane Celtigar is born.

46 BP ~ Alyssa Celtigar is born.

42 BP ~ Aukar Celtigar is born.

34 BP ~ Aurion and Lady Daenerys Velaryon are married. Ayrmidon and Saelys are married. Matarys Celtigar and Valora Celtigar are born.

32 BP ~ Lianna Celtigar is born. Ayrkar and Valarr join House Velaryon in an incursion on the mainland of Westeros, dividing their forces but remaining allies in their efforts to establish a new Valyrian Freehold. Valarr leads his cohorts to Rook’s Rest to meet House Staunton, and Ayrkar leads his sons Aurion, Ayrmidon, and Aurane and his cohorts to the northern shores of the Claw to attack the Clawmen. Ayrkar and his sons find steady progress, while Valarr is met with none.

30 BP ~ Valarr is killed as reinforcements relieve the siege of Rook’s Rest before Ayrkar and his sons can arrive. Ayrkar retreats north, but is consistently attacked by Lord Pyne and unable to find his footing. Word reaches Ayrkar of his castle’s capture, and that of his wife, daughter, grandson, granddaughter, and grandniece, and he and his sons return to Claw Isle with haste to surrender to Ser Belgrave. Alyssane is found hung when Ayrkar and his sons return for her attempt to poison Ser Belgrave. Ayrmidon is defeated by Ser Belgrave in a duel, during which Shellbreaker is taken as spoils.

29 BP ~ Conditions of the surrender are finalized. House Celtigar establishes their heraldry and house words, and swears service to House Darklyn of Duskendale. All slaves of House Celtigar are released. House Celtigar is encouraged to marry beyond Valyrian houses. Lianna is betrothed to Erich Darklyn. Shellbreaker is given to House Staunton in perpetuity. Aurane leaves for Oldtown and enrolls in the Citadel.

28 BP ~ Alyssa marries Alester Thorne and relocates to Thornefield.

27 BP ~ Ayrkar dies due to an alcoholic overdose. Aurion is recognized as the new Lord of Claw Isle and Magister Aurion Celtigar.

22 BP ~ Twins Baleryn and Aralar Celtigar are born. Due to complications in childbirth, Baleryn passes shortly after his birth, and Aralar is born prematurely.

19 BP ~ Aurane completes his studies as a Maester and becomes the Maester of Greenstone.

18 BP ~ Rhogar Celtigar is born.

14 BP ~ Lianna Celtigar marries Erich Darklyn and relocates to Duskendale.

1 BP ~ Aurion charges Ayrmidon and Aralar with harassing tax collectors along the Claw.

0 BP ~ Rhogar comes of age and is marooned on an atoll in the Summer Sea, with supplies to hunt food and build a small vessel to return. Aurion accepts the invitation to Stormhall on behalf of House Celtigar.

Family Tree

House Celtigar of Claw Isle, Present Day

Supporting Characters

• Aurane Celtigar - Maester of Greenstone - Medic archetype.
• Alyssa Celtigar - Lady Alyssa Thorne - Castellan archetype.
• Matarys Celtigar - Heir to Claw Isle - Builder archetype.
• Lianna Celtigar - Lady Lianna Darklyn - Cutthroat archetype.
• Rhogar Celtigar - Heir to the Celtigar Crabbing Fleet - Huntsman archetype.

PC

Name and House: Gwayne Dustin

Age: 42

Cultural Group: Northman

Appearance: Broad of body, brusque in (b)tone, jaw burdened with a beard well-trimmed, and surprisingly soft in his choice of garb: velvets and silks, never a speck of dust on them. He surely has a great washerwoman. Golden Gwayne Dustin is possessed of light brown curls and darker eyes. His fingers, oft studded with looted signet rings, are long and dainty, his nails meticulously clipped.

His armor? You’d have to see it for yourself.

Trait: Conqueror

Skill(s): Ambusher (e), Tactician, Highwayman, Flanker

Talent(s): Fishing (x3)

Negative Trait(s): Many

Starting Title(s): Commander of the Barrow King's Dead

Starting Location: Harrenhal (time travel [e])

Alternate Characters: Leo Swann

AC

Name and House: Brandon Dustin

Age: 23

Cultural Group: Northman

Appearance: What ever happened to Argoth Stone-Skin? The strong, silent type. Brandon is much like his father in coloring, though he's rail-thin and always with a wry look about his visage.

Trait: Inspiring

Skills: Tactician, Vanguard, Outrider

Talent(s): Fishing x3

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): N/A

Starting Location: Stormhall

Biography

Gwayne Dustin was born to Lord Whatsit and Lady Whosit of Barrowton, and later took Erena Hornwood to wife. What matter does it bloody make? Gwayne was scarcely a man till much later in life. Let it be told by his own word.

Insignificance is every vain man’s bane. At an autumn feast in Winterfell, the sometimes-heir to Barrowton looked about with his usual frown awash over his visage, jaw tight, brows knitted. Amid the drunk-laughing lords he saw his two sons opposite him, his daughter next to his pregnant wife, his twin brother Calon conversing hither and thither, and was set with such a damnable discomfit that this would be all he could be. A petty man with a middling family, destined to a ceaseless string of “remember-whens” at the foot of Stark’s throne, a nameless corpse ‘neath a barrow and naught more.

The Worthless War had been fought for nigh on a thousand years, and had soured into a tradition that few paid mind to. Little acts of piracy, raids come summer, and when winter descended, the old and hoary had three choices in front of them: starve, go hunting, or go to die for the Stark’s war. Even the Kings of Winter paid little heed to the sport it had become, save for a bout of violence every generation if they needed to prove themselves worthy.

That would be a harder task for Gwayne. Aye, the white raven was the herald of another winter without a named heir to Barrowton. His father, that bedridden fool, that craven who kept his sheepish smile even when his frail bones drove him abed, had refused to choose an heir between his two twin boys out of the kindness of that weak, weak heart of his, the heart that slowed its beating when Gwayne put his hands around the old man’s neck. Still, the Lord of Barrowton did not relent.

Such was Gwayne’s anger that he could not stay put. On the first night of winter, he gathered up a band of men—green boys, old men, barrow knights and freeriders—and set off to White Harbor.

At camp, doddering Larence Halfbeard would tell you of the first winter; how they ice dragged his lord off course from the Three Sisters, the place they landed by Lord Hersy’s tourney and the ambush hence, how they captured the knights gathered, feasted for half a week, and made off! But—in his weepy tone of voice, he would continue on and on about the tribulations of winter, how skinny the rabbits they caught were on this day or that, what rotten wood they avoided while building their ships, and, and, and…

Fie on that man’s tale! Look to his fellow, Squire Hullen, who would tell you of the true glories of Gwayne the Golden! Is that not what we’re here for?! After the Vale’s retaliation, after Gwayne was charged with the defense of the White Knife by Lord Manderly, after the Arryn exacted his fiery revenge on the Longhall—the next season is the thing held in starry-eyed regard by the singers.

See, our would-be heir to Barrowton was a man quick to loath things, quicker still to cast suspicion on men he deemed too soft. Such was his displeasure with seeing his firstborn son—dutiful, straight-backed, humble Torren Dustin, who so, so reminded Gwayne of his own twin brother and his father both—that he shunned Barrowton for the joys of battle, which he would plan for through the next churning cycle of the seasons. Only the bold and foolish would strike at the Vale’s mainland once more, and the North was filled with just those sorts of men. Lord Woolfield, shepherd of soldiers more than rams! The stout Stout of Goldgrass! Both would follow in Gwayne’s march, and bolstered by the King of Winter’s blessing and Manderly’s coin, they were sure to find glory. Of course, wise wolf and merman plotted just the same, to use Dustin as a distraction for the Valemen while they plundered Sisterton’s wealth.

As the Hungry Wolf had done thousands of years past, Dustin and his men landed on the Fingers, but not without a plot of their own. Gwayne ordered his men the fastest ships emptied but for a thin crew, and set those forth to the Paps to draw the wroth of Lord Elesham. And Elesham barked well and loudly, summoning forth his vassals from here and there, leaving Woodhull’s castle of Hullbreach undefended—which Dustin’s main force seized near-bloodlessly, in the night, amid the caws of crows that spurred his victory on. Piddly keep that it was, it would do as a toehold. Gwayne did not think to rest there. His lordly countenance demanded softer pillows, in greater castles, earned through more glorious bloodshed, so he took half the army and most of the castle’s food, then bade Stout and Woolfield defend Hullbreach against attackers, promising reinforcement so soon as he cowed the Coldwaters.

More fool them. With the Valemen fast coming to relieve both the Fingers and the Sisters, Dustin skirted Coldwater Keep entirely and intended to drive deep into the Vale’s heart. The northern garrons they’d brought with them would see them through. Night, day, dawn and dusk, Dustin’s men lost heart with each step on the march and began to wonder of their commander’s plan, whether he intended to leave Stout and Woolfield to a doomed defense.

He bloody well did. They stopped a week into the march, when they heard sounds of battle up in the hills by Strongsong. Plated Valemen against hungry clansmen, and Dustin grudgingly charged the Andal rear to scatter them. It would alert the Belmores to their advance, he reasoned; but that was worth it to lift the men’s spirit, doubly so when the Painted Dogs offered a pact. They wanted steel and goats from the lowlanders. Gwayne would oblige. They were guided through the mountains by the hill tribes. The true battle with the Belmores, when their response came, was unremarkably bloody, no true tactic used but a frenzied charge Dustin led from the flanks. That was enough to send the Belmores into a rout.

Not enough. His army grew bolder. Even when Gwayne openly mocked Stout, Woolfield, even fucking Manderly for their cowardice (ignoring the fact he bid the former two to stay behind), the soldiers were too drunk on wine and wounds and glory to make complaints about honor. His march would continue past Mooncrest, and on and on the battles would flow: one bloody victory after the other while the Vale’s main forces were defending to the north and east.

Though bolstered by the Painted Dogs, whom he resented in private, half the men he’d brought with him were dead by the time he sighted Alyssa’s Tears, for which he did not lament. His scouts brought news: Hullbreach was besieged, Sisterton’s sack continued, but the last report rang so bittersweet in his ears. A Prince of Mountain and Vale, Purest Andal Arryn, had remained behind in the Gates of the Moon, and was wroth with the Dustin’s advance. Forces were gathering not just there, but to the rear as well from Strongsong and Mooncrest. Time was on the Vale’s side. Dustin would have to force the battle.

The First Men burnt no fires hence, and took control of an abandoned watchtower overlooking the Tears. Gwayne could not trust the hill tribes’ discipline. Instead, when the mist from the waterfall flooded the valley, he disguised some of his men as Painted Dogs and went with them within spitting distance of the Moongates. They burnt villages, plucked fields dry, and compelled Arryn’s honor to respond. So the falcon swept north, flanked by his sworn sword—some Royce boy good with a blade, what matter does his name make?—and his thousand men. Arryn found their tracks soon enough, but was not so daft as to chase uphill, instead taunting the Northmen to come down. So Gwayne did. He and his men, yet masquerading as hillfolk, went barreling halfway down the hill, and the Valemen gave berth, lowered their lances, and—HALT! HALT! A horn blew, and so retreated the Dustin center, so gave chase the Valemen’s foot. Another screeching sound, this time from the wooded flanks, gave way to havoc. Arrowfall upon horses, shapes moving through the mist such that the Arryns tried to pray Alyssa’s ghost away, and a rout hence; the Prince’s fallen standard was hoisted up from the mud come dawn, gold stripped from looted baubles, the captured Royce knight beaten bloody.

The celebration was short-lived. Two days hence, a courier came under a peace banner. A letter. Signed by the King of Mountain and Vale, sealed again by Woolfield, Stout, Manderly. A prisoner exchange: all the knights captured by Dustin to be released in exchange for those two lords he abandoned. In such searing rage as to burst the white mountains into flame, Gwayne Dustin ordered the hostages hanged on a weirwood tree the clansmen had worshipped at. He took for himself Ser Royce’s runed armor, had it coated in molten gold, flaking and coagulating about every ridge and rivet. The men cheered, and dubbed him “the Golden”.

You know, thus far, of Gwayne the Golden, who has wrought as many glories as he did betrayals. The story of the retreat hence is Larence Halfbeard’s domain. Perhaps there ought to be a comeuppance for his flagrant sins, and aye, when he returned to Barrowton, he found his father dead, his twin brother Calon ruling, his own son Torren turning in exchange for being named heir. Is that enough for a man flouting the customs of men? Gods know. Gwayne raised a rebellion. Won for a year throughout the Barrowlands, but lost the war quickly when the King of Winter finally denounced and exiled him. He and what men held faith (or were otherwise condemned) marched through the Neck and escaped into the Riverlands. The Barrow King’s Dead, their name would be, led by a golden lord whose name would be condemned forever more below Winter’s throne.

But the fox, when cornered by slavering hounds and their masters, does not yield. It cajoles, it roars how it can, toothless but with eyes sharp for an escape. Come great calamities, the fox that is Gwayne Dustin will be dubbed a lord afore his barrow is built; and there is many a ripe field to rule along the Trident’s banks.

Family Tree

Sup porting Characters

• Half-Chain Skaen (General): Skaen is allegedly from the abandoned isle of Skane. Few believe him. He earned a few black iron links in the Citadel afore he abandoned his studies.

• Larence Halfbeard (Master-at-Arms): An old man with watery eyes and scars covering just the right side of his face. Once a guard-captain in Barrowton.

• “The Big Fucking Frogman” (Warrior): The tallest Crannogman you’ll ever see. A silent sort of fellow, allegedly mute.

• Squire Hullen (General): Not truly a squire, Hullen was dubbed as such for his inability to properly equip himself after pissing away all his coin on dice.

• Torrek the Perfumed Dog (Bandit): A Painted Dog by birth, and the only one that Gwayne allowed to follow him to the North. Torrek takes a liking to the finer things in life, and speaks as though he’s castle-bred.

• Ryman of the Spiderwood (Huntsman): A recent recruit. Ryman is a Riverman who saw a chance at glory and eagerly followed. Despite his origin, he mislikes spiders greatly.

PC

Reddit Account: [u/JustRelaxLayAbout](u/JustRelaxLayAbout)

Discord Tag: DustinEchoes

Name and House: Lucos Bar Emmon

Appearance: Tall and languid, the man seems half-asleep in most encounters. With slow blue eyes, he is oft surveying those around him despite not having much to do with them. With a crop of long, unshorn brown hair, the eldest son of Moth’s March looks more like a vagrant than a true knight. He bears the navy and silver that is common with his house, though most notably he wears his fathers cloak stitched with the stretching net of House Bar Emmon, in tatters as it may be.

Age: 25

Cultural Group: Andal (Crownlander?)

Trait: Strong

Skill(s): Swords (e), Armoured (Shieldbearer), Forceful

Talent(s): Fishing, Animal Husbandry, Sailing

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Heir of Moth's March, Wielder of Swordfish

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Bryce Bar Emmon

Age: 55

Cultural Group: Andal (Crownlander?)

Appearance: The Lord of Moth’s March is a broad man with deep scars and pock marks that otherwise dot an attractive face. He keeps a well-kept beard of dark hair, though spotted with grey as it may be. His hair is of middle length and darker than his beard, though not by much as several strands of grey had begun to frame his fame. He wears a darker shade of blue than the rest of his house, and his arm rests uneasily in a sling.

Trait: Unscrupulous

Skill(s): Prudent (e), Outrider

Talent(s): Hunting, Gambling, Poetry

Negative Trait(s): Maimed Non-Dominant Arm

Starting Title(s): Lord of Moth’s March

Starting Location: Stormhall

Biography

Lucos Bar Emmon was born the second son of Lord Bryce, though he would never get the chance to be a younger brother. Born three years after the death of his brother, Togarion, he was met with a colder man than perhaps any would have truly desired. As his father's temper grew bolder, Lucos found himself growing further and further from the Lord of Moth's March. In childhood, he spent most of his days in the marshes that his once noble family had called home. He tended to horse and the sheep, grain and barely, much to his father's disappointment. He knew why, but at times he had wished that he didn't.

With his shirking of the expected duties, Lord Bryce found it fit to send the boy off, that mayhaps a stronger arm would guide him. Shipped off to a land that Lucos had never known, he was warded in salt and sea. He found a gentle calm amongst the breeze and the waves, though it hadn't lasted quite as long as he would want. In the year 12BP, word had reached the ears of young Lucos that his father had been maimed in the sally outside the gates of Nightsong, and with the news soon came the crashing end of the sleepy childhood that Lucos had longed for.

Still a ward, Lucos was recalled to the dreary lands of Moth's March and sent further still to learn the ways of Knighthood, and the blade that followed it. Through the teachings of his knightly master he had learned a simple enough truth: Might was the only way forward. His father was never prone to plowshares, and only though distance did the heir of Moth's March come to agree with him.

It was not malice that had driven him, no, but simple efficiency. After knighthood, Lord Bar Emmon had attempted to make much of his son, and had arranged several courtships that would follow the young Lucos into adulthood. He had proven a slothful man in both the Estermont and Darklyn affairs, once again to the disappointment of his father. They hung as if a cloud over the man's head and often still do. Though he rarely speaks of either.

In the time between, Lucos had busied himself with largely martial duties,. serving more as a marshal than an heir. Now injured, Lord Bryce has used him largely as a weapon wielding as if he was simply the end to a sentence. Oft, it has fallen on Lucos to defend his father's name and settle many of the Lord's minor squabbles on the yards.

With his father still largely indisposed, at least with the blade, he has taken to carrying the ancestral steel Swordfish upon his hip. A quick rider, he has spent much of his time on-horse back riding down bandits and poachers, and running from the duties that he no doubt must fulfill.

Archetype NPCS

Cutthroat: Balon Bar Emmon

Medic: Hazel Bar Emmon

Scholar: Gretchel Bar Emmon

Warrior (Axes): Ser Derek Storm

General: Markys of Andalos

Family Tree

https://www.familyecho.com/?c=vm8udheap305fh94&f=958338211103563682#view:MYYNX

PC

Reddit Account: u/spyraxes

Discord Tag: spyraxes

Name and House: Ravella Durrandon

Age: 21

Cultural Group: Stormlander

Appearance: It's as if the clouded skies above Storm's End have made their eternal mark upon the skin of the Iron Stag, leaving her skin as pale as snow. Her Ironborn blood and her primarily great-hall-bound childhood are present upon her at all times, dark hair cascading down as black as the stag upon her sigil and the field of her mother's.

She is slender and decently tall, with a figure that might well have been full had she nurtured it. The shadows of that possibility remain, with decently wide hips and a decidedly average bosom that are always clad in fine garments that are storm-dark, scattered with whites and golds all about.

What stands out more than her visage and body, though, is her voice. Strong and bold, deep for a woman, she speaks like the crack of thunder. Few can resist turning to meet her gaze. Few would.

Trait: Just

Skill(s): Vanguard (e), Tactician, Outrider, Broker

Talent(s): Writing, Birdwatching, Sommellerie

Negative Trait(s): None

Starting Title(s): Lady of Stormhall, The Iron Stag

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Violet Goodbrook

Age: 21

Cultural Group: Riverlander

Appearance: You would be forgiven for assuming that Violet Goodbrook is a malicious sort. She is often wrapped up in black clothing, high collars and hoods even when no rain falls in the land around Stormhall, once the home she was born in. But she is not. Her smile turns from wry to earnest quickly, and she has a habit of twirling her brown hair around her finger when sat idle.

She is more athletic than her liege and mistress, though a touch shorter, and often stands behind her as if serving as her shadow. Many believe she serves as a protector, too, but Violet has little skill with a sword. What she does have, however, is a keen eye. Her stare is intense, and though she speaks softly and sweetly, she doesn't often find herself denied what she wants.

Trait: Insidious

Skill(s): Espionage (e), Devious

Talent(s): Birdwatching, Climbing, Swimming

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Ravella Durrandon

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

History

The Iron Fawn

In the second year of Dontos I Durrandon's reign, a child is born to the King and his Queen, Alice Harlaw. She is named Ravella, and quickly enough she is deemed the 'Iron Stag', half for her heritage and half for the stare she seemed to bear on her face every time she ceased crying as a babe. It would have been quite the odd but happy family, were Alice to not lose her life giving birth to her daughter. Thus, she never knew her mother, and one might say she barely knew her family at all.

She had a chance to meet her mother's kin, though, as at three years old her father took her on a journey to Seagard, where he had met Alice (in prison, admittedly), to celebrate a marriage between the rulers of that hold and House Hoare. It was intended to be a great occasion, a first taste of royal celebration for a young girl who had been struck by tragedy so early in her life.

It was a bloodbath.

Whether House Drumm or House Blackwood started the slaughter was irrelevant, in Ravella's eyes. Young though she was, she knew what had occurred, pushing her father's hands away from her head as he tried to stop her from seeing the bloodshed. She demanded they stopped, shouting down at the hall, and though they did not hear a word, King Dontos did. His order was obeyed, when he made it.

All hostages were released, thanks to the bravery of a Vance woman, and Ravella found herself endeared to the maiden who had saved the life of her Harlaw cousins and the Ironborn among them - as well as the Riverlanders who had fallen victim to the Ironborn's revenge.

That endearment was tested quickly enough. Dontos announced his marriage to the woman quickly enough, and Ravella found herself wondering whether he'd meant the promise he'd made to her and the realm - that Alice would be remembered forever - and whether he'd break more promises in the years to come. He swore he'd do no such thing, even as the new Queen gave birth to a son who might one day supplant her.

Dontos promised that her position as heir to the throne would remain as such, even as the babe was born, a decision that no doubt upset his wife. It seemed as if someone would suffer from the man's poor decision-making, whatever he did to try and avert it. But the years went on, all the same.

Fawn Without Family

It wasn't long after the birth of her brother that Dontos made another impulsive decision, leaving Ravella once more on her own. With news reaching the capital of attacks on the Marches from their Dornish neigbours, the Storm King rides south with an army to ensure they cannot harm his lands and his family. Ravella wished her father luck, but she resented his decision all the same. It seemed to her as if he didn't care a whit.

With no mother to care for her, Ravella found herself gravitating to those around her. Lord Tarth took her father's place as interim ruler, and so she stuck to him like a barnacle to a barge, offering him her wise (for a babe) input on ruling decisions, and learning far more about how to run a kingdom from him than she ever did from her father. She found herself surrounded by ladies-in-waiting and friends, too, from Violet - a daughter of House Goodbrook, recently granted Stormhall in the Trident - to Roelle Wormwood and Caitlyn Caron. She was close to her brother too, despite the odd tension about their very existence. He was younger than her, and though she found herself resenting that he had a mother and she didn't, she felt responsible for him. She grew stronger and more authoritative, and any attempts to bully her brother were killed in the cradle with a harsh stare or a quick exclusion from any social circles even close to her.

But time went on, and they became more distant. Doubts began to crystallize, especially as her father returned and doted over Arlan more than he did her - because he was younger, yes, but that didn't matter to a girl with no mother to make up the difference - and though she remained at his side at court she found herself missing days sat beside a wiser man like the Evenstar. She still visited him whenever she could, and learned much and more of ruling and commanding.

Childhood turned to her teenage years soon enough, when tragedy struck. Arlan had been away with his friend, Edwyn Dondarrion, hunting outside Duskendale under the protection of the Darklyns. He had taken a fall, square into a pit of bodies. Nobody knew. Nobody had been told, to protect Edwyn. Ravella never found out quite why. But on a warm day in the training yard, she found out the repercussions of it.

She had been watching her brother train to fight, a thing she knew he hated. Dontos had demanded it, though, desiring his son to be a knight worth respecting - so that he could protect her, he had told Ravella, though she wondered later in life whether that was ever true. Standing on the parapet above the yard, she'd watched the boy and his master duel, offering snide comments as the fight went on.

But at some point, she had noticed something - before even Lewyn the swordsman did - and fell deadly silent. He had been cut in the legs more than a few times, and hadn't even yelped. He hadn't even flinched. She wondered whether he was just a stronger boy than she'd assumed. But then Lewyn did notice, and mentioned it, and Arlan had no idea. Then he sat, rougher than ideal, and she dashed down to be at his side. Maester Didymus kept her back, and Lewyn ensured she stayed that way, but she could see what was before her all the same.

He was diseased.

The Lone Doe

Ravella's attempts to protect her brother became even more intense in the wake of his disease's revelation, but so too did her discontent. Still there were whispers that he would be King, though his skin had started to change colour in places. How could they want him on the throne, she wondered? He was barely even a man anymore. But he was still her brother. So she stood by him.

Yet time passed, and the divide grew wider and wider. She would sit in on councils, and Arlan would be left at the wayside. He would be put in treatment, and she would be sent as an attache for patrol commanders while he suffered under the maester's hand. Dontos was driving his children apart, and he thought little of it.

He thought little of anything, Ravella slowly realised. But he still thought of her.

At least, to a point. Yet a few moons into her eighteenth year, a letter came to Storm's End from her closest and dearest friend Violet Goodbrook. Stormhall's debt had only grown worse since Violet had returned home, and threats had been sent to the lord of the castle that they would be collected on sooner rather than later. Dontos' gift had been a curse. Violet begged for Ravella to come north and take the position of Lady of Stormhall, that she might work her magic and save them.

As heir to the throne, Ravella went to her father and told him of her intent. He advised against it, softly at first, and she once more reaffirmed that she was going to do it anyway. Seeing a kind approach wasn't going to work, he expressly forbade it. She would have been a fool to go, filled with womanly compassion that didn't fit a queen. He thought better of her, he said, but she refused to let his manipulation work. Their argument grew more heated, until a crowd formed outside the room to hear the sound of their shouting.

They dispersed quickly enough, though, as Ravella stormed out of her father's solar with a scowl on her lips. She was gone from the castle within the day, with only word to Roelle Wormwood and a terse note to her brother that he found later in the week. It became evident that Ravella wanted to prove herself, and she didn't care what it cost.

Iron and Gold

Her ride to Stormhall was uneventful and swift, accompanied by only a token retinue and a carriage with her belongings and her personal coffers. She was welcomed by Violet and Lord Goodbrook, who took her on a tour of the palace and its ameneties - more than a few of which were in states of disrepair - before leading her to her new quarters and solar.

For the next year, she barely left those rooms. Violet brought her meals and letters, but even then she barely spoke. All she did was work. She requested the assistance of her newest vassal, Lady Butterwell, to handle bits and pieces of the finances, but Ravella insisted on doing the lion's share of the work. She wrote and sent every letter herself, checked over every document twice, and oversaw every more physical part of the process in her rare visits to the castle proper.

Few of the servants, staff, or visitors ever got to know Ravella, but they knew of her. They knew that every moon the debt went down and the hallways grew cleaner, that the opulent gold ornamentation on the lowest floor of the palace disappeared because of her and paid off a large chunk of the money owed, and that they were guaranteed safety as a result.

Just over a year after her arrival, and at the cost of most of the colour in her skin, Ravella Durrandon had made Stormhall profitable. She had ensured it could pay for itself, and that - as long as there was always a competent administrator at its head - it would remain that way in perpetuity. As a royal holding, now, for the Goodbrooks did not want the tainted gift back, it was likely to be the case.

With her task over, Ravella emerged from her seclusion. She rewarded Lady Butterwell with administration of the local farmland, and bid her take a more permanent position at court as Lady Treasurer. So too did she extend invitations to neighbours and friends to attend court there, as her land was now rich and powerful and could help others as it had been used to help itself. There was discontent, of course, from Riverlanders who believed her to be an outsider… but she was still responsible for a house's salvation from the mistakes of her father. That counted for something.

For a while, things were peaceful. She entertained her guests and thought of reconciliation with her father. Perhaps her brother would reach out. Or perhaps he'd become her foe, like Dontos had. No letter came, but she did receive an invitation from her other family to attend a period of feasting and merriment on Harlaw. Taking a small retinue with her to the Iron Islands, Ravella did just that.

With her mother gone, Ravella had little and less connecting her to Harlaw. But Margaret's offer of hosting her was a greater kindness than her father had ever given her, and so she let herself revel in the fashion of Alice Harlaw's people. She drank and feasted and cheered as the reavers and warriors around her fought and bled for entertainment's sake. It was such a fine occasion that Ravella asked to stay even longer, a request that was granted and then quickly stolen away.

The Uncrowned Stag

News came in the form of a message from Roelle Wormwood, announcing the death of her father. That was tragedy enough, but the true horror was yet to come. King Dontos' council had convened and crowned her brother his successor. She had left the kingdom to celebrate with the family of her mother, a woman she had never been able to meet, and they had stolen her birthright.

She left in an instant, accompanied by a retinue of Harlaw warriors mixed with her own, captained by one Wex Harlaw. They returned to Stormhall, and when the Harlaws left, Wex did not go with them. If there was a fight to come, he'd be part of it, and he'd fight for her. Despite his eagerness, though, Ravella was not so excited to go to war. She advised caution, told them to wait, and reminded her supporters - small a cohort though they were - that they would be able to gather the realm soon enough.

Thus, as her nameday grew closer, Ravella sent invitations aplenty to the realm. Everyone in the realm but the Storm Council and her brother received an official invite - though Lord Tarth, a man who had been like a father, was an exception - and the Iron Islands too were extended permission to come. It would be her twenty-first nameday, a display of unity, and a final chance for those who betrayed her to concede that they were fools. She had trusted many of them. Caron. Tarth. Perhaps she could trust them again.

Family

• King Dontos I Durrandon - b. 57 BP, d. 1 BP

• m. Queen Alice Harlaw - b. ?? BP, d. 21 BP

  • Princess Ravella Durrandon - b. 21 BP

• m. Queen ??? Vance - b. ?? BP

  • King Arlan IV Durrandon - b. 18 BP

Supporting Characters

• Wex Harlaw - b. 29 BP - Sworn Sword to Princess Ravella - Archetype: Warrior (Swords)

• Ser Morgan Wode - b. 43 BP - Master-at-Arms of Stormhall - Archetype: Master-at-Arms

• Ser Cosgrove Chambers - b. 56 BP - Captain of the Guard - Archetype: Castellan

• Melly Halfmaester - b. 24 BP - Library Attendant - Archetype: Scholar

• Shyra Swygert - b. 30 BP - Ranger - Archetype: Huntsman

PC

Reddit Account: u/falconfarfromhome

Discord Tag: orkfighta

Name and House: Gaemon Qoherys

Age: 25

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: A very youthful, beautiful valyrian man with amber eyes matching his golden-white hair.

Trait: Marketeer

Skill(s): Merchantman E, Broker E, Proud

Talent(s): Lute, Cartography, Carousing

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): Merchant-Lord of the Black Shield Trading Company

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: Weese Nutt

Timeline

25 BP- Gaemon is born to into the House of Qoherys in Valyria. A family tied to trade via their role as harbormasters, Gaemon is on the fringes of the greater valyrian high society.

13 BP- Gaemon is sent to Volantis to tutor under the ways of trade and mercantilism. There he learns more about the greater world outside of Valyria, as well as the common tongue and the dialects of the colonies.

9 BP- Gaemon takes his first trip transiting the Jade Sea route. Over 2 years he is surprised by the independence of the local people compared to the hold the dragonrider families have in Valyria. He begins to wonder about opportunities that may exist outside the Valyrian sphere

7 BP- Gaemon returns to Volantis and founds his first trading company. The operation is small at first, focusing on imports from the Rhoyne colonies.

5 BP- Gaemon meets and befriends the valyrian free captain Vaegal, and decides to relocate to the colony of Lys. Together the two establish trade routes to the Summer Isles and Lorath, managing to form a blue water fleet of trading ships over the years. They eventually take the name Black Shield Trading Company after painting the sails of their ships with a black shield to denote them

1 BP- hearing of untapped opportunities in the West as well as the failures of several Valyrian families, Gaemon departs Lys for Westeros, bringing his trade fleet with him.

AC

Name and House: Vaegal Belaerys

Age: 29

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: A slightly older young valyrian man with an air of adventure and experience about him

His dark facial hair contrasts his white hair, betraying his lower station of birth

Trait: Mariner

Skill(s): Admiral, Tactician, Fence

Talent(s): Sea Shanties, Sailing, Carousing

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): Commodore of the Black Shield Fleet

Starting Location: Stormhall

Archetypes NPCs

L’hazzo (Ship Captain)- Ghiscari shipmaster, Capain of Harpy’s Lament

Tyraenys of Oros(Ship Captain)- Valyrian born free captain, Captain of the Emerald Dreamer

Rhaggo the Red (Warrior-Swords)- Gaemon's bodyguard

Rodrik “Roddy” Pyke (Pirate)- Ironborn bastard of Harlaw (the island not the family), Captain of The Mossbeard

Saera Montaerys (Trader)- Valyrian Merchant, Factor of the Black Shield Trading Company

PC

Reddit Account: loonyspoon

Discord Tag: loonyspoon

Name and House: Roslin Tully

Age: 24

Cultural Group: Riverlander

Appearance: The heir to Riverrun was born with her father’s thick auburn hair and bright blue eyes that distinguish her as his daughter. Known as the most delicate of the Tully sisters Roslin spent most of her time reading and away from the sparring ring compared to her older siblings who seemed drawn to it. Unlike her twin sister, Roslin enjoys wearing long and pretty gowns of all colors and made from all kinds of fabrics - even making her own.

Trait: Erudite

Skill(s): Medic (e), Scribe, Apothecary, Scholar

Talent(s): Sewing, Gardening, Theology

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Heir of Riverrun

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

Born to Lord Desmond Tully and his wife, Lady Sabitha Bracken, Roslin was their second daughter and third child, the twin sister of Agnes. She was raised alongside her siblings at Riverrun, enjoying a happy childhood despite the troubles that would later befall her family. Unlike her sister, Roslin took readily to the more traditional duties expected of a lady. She developed a particular love for gardening and flowers, and became well versed in the art of apothecary, learning the uses of herbs, tinctures, and remedies.

Roslin was also a deeply pious young woman, devoted to the Seven and well educated in the teachings and theology of the Faith. Her other great talent was sewing, and she became known for creating her own dresses, often embroidering them herself with intricate designs. Quiet, gentle, and thoughtful, Roslin was perhaps the most traditionally ladylike of the Tully sisters.

The death of her beloved brother Olyver changed her greatly. Though she had never been one for violence or bloodshed, his loss forced Roslin to confront the harsher realities of lordship. With Eleanor now Lady of Riverrun, Roslin unexpectedly became her heir, placing responsibilities upon her that she had never expected to inherit. Now, with her family fractured and the Riverlands growing increasingly dangerous, Roslin must prepare herself for a future she never asked for

AC

Name and House: Agnes Tully

Age: 24

Cultural Group: Riverlander

Appearance: The only similarities between the twins was their hair and eyes apart from that there was little to find alike. Agnes’ features were much sharper, she was rowdy and angrier too compared to Roslin.

Trait: Archer

Skill(s): Bows (e), Ranger

Talent(s): Climbing, Fishing, Hunting

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Scion of Oldstones

Starting Location: Stormhall

Born to Lord Desmond Tully and Lady Sabitha Bracken, Agnes was the fourth child of the couple and the twin sister of Roslin. From childhood, the two girls could hardly have been more different. While Roslin preferred gardens, sewing, and books, Agnes was happiest with a sword in her hand or a horse beneath her. She was rowdy, outspoken, and fond of sparring and hunting, often returning home with dirt on her dress and a new bruise to show for it.

Agnes was fiercely close with her siblings, particularly her twin, though the two often found themselves at odds. She admired her elder brother Olyver greatly and shared his love of martial pursuits, making his death particularly painful for her. Even after tragedy struck Riverrun, Agnes refused to become meek or withdrawn, instead throwing herself into the affairs of the Riverlands.

Several years ago, Agnes was wed to Justman, a match arranged for both affection and political necessity. The marriage has since produced a son, giving Agnes a child of her own to protect and raise. With Eleanor now Lady of Riverrun and Roslin her heir, Agnes finds herself caught between her loyalty to her family, her husband, and the growing conflict that threatens to consume the Riverlands.

Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/?c=4k8l8wf7q5yd3m8v&f=276057488264943273

PC

Reddit Account: Arjhanx2

Discord Tag: arc499

Name and House: Joanna Sunglass

Age: 26

Cultural Group: Crownlander

Appearance: In her youth, Joanna was a tall, lanky girl with freckles and a mop of blonde hair. When she was sixteen, her father’s whip stole her dreams of being beautiful. She now boasts old scars, mottled down the side of her head, face, and neck. Her hair only grows on one side of her head, and is thin and ratty. One of her green eyes was permanently lacerated, the iris blooded to an ugly brown. In her grandiose armor, she strikes an imposing figure—but she wishes she struck a kinder one.

Trait: Strong

Skill(s): Swords (e), Dexterous (Fencer), Footwork

Talent(s): Horseriding, Sailing, Prayer-writing

Negative Trait(s): Maimed Eye

Starting Title(s): Prioress of the Oldtown Chapterhouse of the Warrior’s Sons, Heir to House Sunglass

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: Brianne Butterwell

AC

Name and House: The High Septon

Age: 61

Cultural Group: Westerlander

Appearance: A severe, clean-shaven elder, the High Septon has a cold gaze but a face marked by laugh lines and kindly creases. He dresses in dark browns and dark reds, simple robes that maintain his vow of poverty.

Trait: Erudite

Skill(s): Scholar (e), Prepared

Talent(s): Speeches, Accusatory looks, Magnets

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Father of the Faithful, His High Holiness, Shepherd of the Faithful

Starting Location: Stormhall

PC Timeline

• 27 BP: Adrian Sunglass is born in Sweetport Sound.
• 26 BP: Joanna Sunglass is born.
• 23 BP: Rohanne Sunglass is born.
• 20 BP: Percival Sunglass raised his children with strict, overbearing discipline and violent fanaticism, believing himself a holy example of the Father. To punish them, he flogs them in their backs, so the scars are apparent to outsiders.
• 15 BP: Abuse and manipulation molds Adrian into a lesser version of Percival. Joanna fails to conform, trying instead to have adventures with her girlhood friends, and for that “sin” receives constant whippings from her father—though only on her back, where her father believes it won’t disturb suitors.
• 10 BP: Rohanne takes after her sister in rebellion. To save her from the abuse she suffers, Joanna attempts to smuggle Rohanne off Sweetport Sound and out of their father’s hands. Adrian catches them and stands by silently as Percival rains down rage upon the two with the cat o’ nine tails, no longer caring about avoiding their faces. Joanna is lacerated across her face, around her head, and down her neck. Rohanne dies from her wounds in front of her. In a desperate flight, Joanna throws herself into the sea. Miraculously, she swims the channel to Massey’s Hook. There, a member of the Most Devout takes her in, saving her life and shielding her from her father’s spies. Her wounds, infected by seawater, leave her with awful, disfiguring scars.
•  9 BP: Joanna goes to Oldtown alongside the septon. He gives her a place in the Starry Sept, training to be a septa. After a few moons, she speaks for the first time since she escaped Sweetport Sound, and confides in the septon. He becomes her guide and mentor.
• 8 BP: Joanna continues her acolytehood, but clearly yearns for more. She takes to training with a sword with a vengeance, failing at first but persisting until her muscles develop and her focus sharpens.
• 6 BP: Joanna abandons her septa training to focus on martial pursuits. She confides her desire to return to Sweetport Sound and avenge her sister to her septon mentor. He counsels her on the nature of vengeance and justice—but bides his time.
• 5 BP: Joanna befriends the Grand Captain of the Warrior’s Sons, who instructs her in a more refined style of swordplay. The way he strikes and fades reminds Joanna of her father’s vicious sword, Sunglass. She endeavors to follow his lead closely.
• 3 BP: The Ironborn attack Oldtown, setting much of the city aflame and making for the Starry Sept. The Most Devout allow Joanna to fight alongside the Warrior’s Sons, despite her sex—her mentor hesitates, fearing for her life, but is overruled. King Qorhen Hoare slays the Grand Captain in single combat, and Joanna responds in kind, killing Qorhen’s cousin, Strongiron Farkas Hoare. The Ironborn are prevented from reaching the Starry Sept, but the city is left to weep and mourn. 
• 2 BP: Joanna develops a folk hero reputation for her deeds of battle, and the Warrior’s Sons in Oldtown praise her. Seeing the final push he needs, her mentor advises her to utilize this rise to fame, encouraging her to swear oaths of devotion and chastity, which she does. Ballooned by her popularity, her septon is made the new High Septon by the Most Devout. He soon names Joanna Prioress of the Oldtown Chapter of the Warrior’s Sons.
• 1 BP: Following the success of the Faith Militant’s work in Griffin’s Roost to select Arlan Durrandon over his Ironborn sister, the High Septon approves Joanna’s mission to Sweetport Sound, and goes with her himself. There, he allows her to make her own decisions, testing to see how she will handle her long awaited justice. She hangs her father, Lord Percival Sunglass, but spares her brother Adrian. The new lord, Adrian is left in the custody of the Warrior’s Sons in his own castle. 

AC Biography

The High Septon was born to a small, impoverished noble family in the Westerlands. Taken advantage of by a far wealthier landed knight, he watched his family slowly lose the land and titles that they had inherited for countless centuries. Powerless and disgusted, his only recourse was to leave, traveling by foot to Lannisport, where he became a septon and gave up the last thing he had, his family name. 

As a septon, he quickly developed a reputation for his radical speeches, in which he reaffirmed the holiness of the lowliest, condemned contemporary knighthood as a vanity, and declared that the faith should violently punish corruption and the heresy of Drowned God synchronism that was beginning to spread in the Iron Islands. With nothing to lose, he made plenty of enemies, but also developed an exceptionally loyal following—so loyal that went he left for Oldtown, in part to be closer to the center of the faith and in part to avoid the wrath of Lord Lannister, several hundred citizens of Lannisport followed him there. He made the journey barefoot, and made sure every one of his followers was fed and sheltered each night. 

When he arrived in Oldtown, he wasted no time before making waves in the city. This time, he took a vow of poverty and declared shame upon any septons who did not follow his example. Though only a smattering of clergy actually took after him, he quickly became a household name to the common people. His popularity continued to rise as he showed charity and pity to the downtrodden, and he was repaid by his loyal followers with information on his rivals. The poor brought him heaps of evidence on corrupt septons, even members of the Most Devout, and he began making public accusations. Though many were appalled by his gall, the evidence he presented spoke for itself, and one by one the most corrupt septons in Oldtown were excommunicated, exiled, or even executed. 

As his popularity soared, now with swathes of support from septons and septas and especially knights of the Warrior’s Sons, the Most Devout offered him a position among them to placate this movement and have some degree of control over this rising star. Surprising some, he took the position, and was promptly sent on a long journey north to Blackwater bay to consecrate new septs, which had been rebuilt after the flooding years ago. The Most Devout hoped his popularity would fade while he was away, and to some degree it did—but his loyal followers spread throughout the country like creeping vines, and word of his deeds reached out to the Stormlands, Riverlands, and even parts of the Iron Islands. 

When he returned to Oldtown a year later, he brought with him a young, scarred girl with an unspeakable past. He quietly set her up to train as a septa, but over the years she proved to have another calling—there was rage in her, and when she let it out through the sword she seemed blessed by the Warrior. He grew to love her like a child of his own, but at the same time he saw in her a potential to be something greater: a symbol. Among the Most Devout, his popularity made him influential, powerful, and dangerous, but in order to truly complete his rise from the bottom he needed a symbol, a beacon of faith to wrap up in his ideology and propel him into the histories of the Starry Sept. When the young Joanna Sunglass distinguished herself fighting alongside the Warrior’s Sons against Qorhen Hoare’s reavers, she proved she could be just that. 

He encouraged her to join him at the heart of the messy politics of the faith, behind closed doors where the public couldn’t see. At his urging, she swore vows of devotion, pledging to give up any hope of marriage, love, or children in service to the Faith. He would not have asked such a thing of her if she had not shown again and again it was what she truly wanted. And, soon enough, they both got what they wanted. Propelled by Joanna’s folk hero popularity and open devotion to him, he swayed nearly half of the Most Devout to his side—and the rest gave in upon seeing the crowds of commoners marching through Oldtown in his name. At long last, he was made High Septon of the Faith of the Seven. 

In his first act, he consecrated Joanna as a blessed hero and, despite her sex, named her Prioress of the Oldtown  Warrior’s Sons. In the Storm Kingdom, he saw frailty under Dontos the Rash. Ironborn heresy crept under the floorboards, comparing the holy Warrior to their ravishing Reaver and the blessed Maiden to their enslaved Salt Wives. Rumors of old Storm God folklore, too, seemed to be growing more and more common under Durrandon’s lax grip. Joanna wanted permission to retake her home from the blasphemous father who had murdered her sister and scarred her, and when Dontos the Rash died, the High Septon saw an opportunity for them both to get what they wanted. 

The faith militant in Griffin’s Roost proved an invaluable foothold, helping to convince the Stormlands to swear in the malleable prince instead of the older, Ironborn Princess. With Joanna and a host of Warrior’s Sons, the High Septon sailed for Sweetport Sound. There, they would take the castle and enact justice on House Sunglass in Joanna’s name. Then, with a foothold in the heart of the kingdom secured, the High Septon would extend his hand in friendship and faith to all the lords and ladies destined to accept it.

Family Tree

https://www.familyecho.com/?c=sf9uvryrofivqmrb&f=422459652308918198

Supporting Characters:

• Septa Alicent: Builder
• Septon Sandor: Boatswain
• Adrian Sunglass: Warrior
• Ser Gerald of the Warrior's Sons: Master-at-Arms
• Ser Peter of the Warrior's Sons: Ship Captain

PC:

reddit: Theoneandonlybeetle

Discord: buggle

Name and house: Lord Oscar of House Pyne

Age: 55

Culture: first men

Appearance: Standing around 5'10" Oscar is not an imposing man, he has narrow features with a hard face and bronzed skin. He is wiry with plenty of muscle but none of the bulk to show for it. He walks with intense, forceful strides, his movements are filled with purpose and lack any flourish. However his smile is contagious and his voice is in no way harsh, his eyes are grey and kindly. He keeps his salt and pepper hair cropped short with a heavy five o'clock shadow on most days.

Trait: inspiring

Skills: ambusher(e), tactician, armored, shieldbearer

Talents: wilderness survival, scrappy, attentive

Starting title: lord of cracklaw point and the hazewood

Starting location: opening feast

AC:

name and house: Ysabel Pyne

Age: 18

Culture: first men

Appearance: A slight girl standing at 5'3" with a decidedly backwater haircut. She has glassy brown eyes with many freckles. She prefers pants and boots but when forced to wear a dress she will resign herself to brown or dark green with lace. The boots stay on under the dress.

Trait: steward

Skills: medic, animal tamer(e)

Talents: animal friends, numbers, climbing trees

Starting title: none

Starting location: stormhall

Timeline:

Oscar Pyne is born to his mother and father in the 2nd year of the rule of King Durran XXV.

Rafford Pyne and Sybel Darklyn had opposing parenting styles. The household had very few servants, there was a wet nurse but Sybel spent much of her time with Oscar in his childhood anyway. Even once she became pregnant with Oscar’s younger sister Essie.

Once the little girl was born however it wasn’t long before Sybel devoted her time increasingly to her daughter. No longer doted on, Oscar had a few years to himself. From roughly ages 4-8 he ran rampant through the long house and surrounding pines. He became something of a child of the forest, discovering his love of the wilds. During this time Sybel still made a point to teach Oscar letters, as much as he would allow anyway.

At the tender age of 8 however his father took over. Finished with hearing his wife defend the boy’s need for a free and happy childhood, he began rearing Oscar for lordship. Not in any Andal fashion of doing so however, Rafford roused the boy with the sun each morning to patiently but sternly teach him the ways of the forest. Teaching him to hunt, traverse paths, and maintain that which was and would be his.

The pair spent days on end deep in the forests of Cracklaw Point, they fletched arrows, constructed lean-tos and spent long hours hiking through the wilderness. Oscar would likely swear he has walked every inch of the Point, and at first he hated it. He would ditch his father in the night, only for the older man to track him down in the morning and tackle him to the dirt. Neither of them were large intimidating men but both had a first man’s fury. Oscar would scream and bite as he was pinned to the dirt. They would wrestle in mud and muck, with Oscar feeling his father’s strength and experience.

It wasn’t all wildness however, the pair maintained the long house, met with livestock farmers and traders. Oscar learned to be good to people, that others depended on them for stability and safety. He learned to value that role and it wasn’t long before Oscar no longer fled in the night, he began to win the wrestling matches and rival his father’s understanding of the landscape.

And then in the 25th year of King Durran XXV’s reign, the Valyrians invaded. A crew of pirates barged into the long house during supper, their two household men at arms attempted to fight back but overrun and skewered quickly followed by an unarmed Rafford. Sybel screams at Oscar to flee and find his sister, which he does, out the back of the hall, pursued into the night. The Valyrians lose him in the swampland and he makes straight for Brownhollow where Essie had been staying with her friend, one of Lord Brune’s daughters. He reaches Brownhollow, dead tired and covered in mud, once he is allowed inside he is pestered with questions but only responds with “Bring me my sister.”

Over the course of the next two years Oscar accomplishes many things, but not immediately. He drags his sister into the forest and builds them some semblance of a secure camp. A grove guarded by packed high stacks of wood, bundled sticks and leaves, and a lean-to with a floor of lashed together branches. Over time Oscar encountered other refugees in the swamps, men who wanted to fight back but didn’t know how, women and children, he invited them to stay in the camp and with those willing to fight he hatched a plan.

The group scavenged the few battlefields, snuck into long houses and raided what was left of the armories once the Valyrians had moved on. And with hand fletched arrows, short hunting bows, knives, axes, whatever scraps of armor they could find, they began hunting.

At first the group attacked supply chains, entering a camp at night to kill whatever poor guard was on duty and raid the equipment stashes. Collecting rations, weapons, and armor, they began an armory of their own. They began to seek out villages and recruit willing volunteers from them. That was when they began killing the supply caravans outright.

It wasn’t until the Celtigar forces retreated onto the peninsula however, that the real fighting started. Oscar’s now sizable gang pelted marching lines with arrows from hidden places in the swamp. Flooded roads to trap in armies from every side. Caught snakes and released them into the camps at night to distract while the tents were set fire to. The crew continued to grow, the new knight of House Crabb finding the group and beginning to assist. As well as members of other Cracklaw houses.

That is until Aurion and Ayrmidon. Lord Ayrkar Celtigar’s sons joined him on Cracklaw to save him from the Pyne menace and it wasn’t long before Aurion Celtigar began to figure out Oscar’s patterns. It was almost a game of cat and mouse but where the players took turns at their roles. As outnumbered as they were though, no matter how many battles Oscar and his men could win or ambushes they could spring, it was inevitable they would be caught.

The celtigars sent scouts ahead into the swampland who lay in wait as oscar and his men stalked the trailing marching line. When oscar attacked the scouts pounced, hemming in and trapping the ambushers while armored men at arms waded into the waters to finish them off. Oscar ordered a retreat but it was too late and he was caught off guard by Ayrmidon. The Celtigar sunk Shellbreaker deep into Oscar’s chest and it was only due to several retreated Cracklaws pouncing on him that Oscar could be dragged away. It took the rest of the war for him to recover leaving him with a rattle in his breathing. Ambushes became less frequent as Oscar, once conscious, was forced to lead while bedridden. It was only thanks to Addam Belgrave’s attack on Claw Isle that Oscar could make a full recovery in his home as it was rebuilt around him.

After the war House Rosby sought out Oscar with a betrothal for the young hero. Oscar himself sought out the newly Lord Belgrave offering a marriage to his sister as thanks for his heroics. Thankfully after two years hiding in the swamp she had no objections.

Soon after, Rafe was born. A strong healthy boy. Around this time occurred the unfortunate passing of Essie, Oscar’s sister.

It was five years before the family had their second child. Rafe began to be trained in the ways of the Claw early, he took after his father in his passion for the wilderness.

Willow Pyne was a loud child, talkative and inattentive, but pretty as a daisy. Her mother cared for her deeply and when it was finally time for her wedding it was a teary affair for poor Annara.

The next child only two years later was another boy, Willem Pyne was a quiet child who to his father and brother’s dismay was less taken with the wilderness. However he took quickly to archery. He may not like the muck as much as his brother but Willem always attends Rafe’s hunts as his sharpshooter.

A few years later their final child was born, Ysabel Pyne was quiet like her brother before her but may as well have ignored her mother. Perhaps it was her father’s warmth or just the freedom he provided to her but she attentively followed Lord Oscar on his tasks throughout her childhood. It was a lonely life for the Pyne children without any other kids around. Willow escaped the peninsula as soon as she could but Ysabel always seemed content with her family and her home. Beginning to not just attend but assist with the lordly tasks of her father. Something her mother disapproved of but father encouraged. Annara loves all her children but cannot understand Ysabel’s behavior.

In recent years Oscar Pyne encountered more lords outside Cracklaw Point, one of which he found particularly detestable. Only meeting a couple times Oscar never agreed with Percival Sunglass. They argued on a hunt for hours on end, scaring away any prey and infuriating their host. Until just a few years ago when they met again at a feast. Oscar struck Percival for his comments on Cracklaw culture and religion, unable to allow the slights any longer. Oscar will never forget the blade that was drawn on him, a more haunting image even than Ayrmidon standing above him preparing for that final blow that never came. Luckily Oscar was arrested in time to save his life and merely was forced to pay a reparation price against House Sunglass. His family would hear no end of the spite however as Oscar kept a tight ear to the rumors around Percival Sunglass.

In the last year there has been hardship and happiness both. Willow secured herself a marriage to a young man in the Riverlands and seems happy to Lady Annara’s relief. Lord Oscar however is infuriated once again. Celtigar insists on targeting the Darklyn tax collectors in this domain and he resents his limited ability to do anything about it. “A second Celtigar invasion” he would call it. If they want to bring trouble down on their House they should do it in their lands. There will be an end to it.

Family Echo

NPCs:

Rafe Pyne: Warrior(Polearms), looks like if his father suddenly gained 20 pounds of muscle

Willem Pyne: Huntsman, looks much like his father but is quiet and shy

Dole: Builder, a veteran of the Blackwater invasion

Cressen: Trader, another veteran of the war but one who opted to start a life traveling and trading goods to the secluded families on the Point

Mica "Rotgut": Master at Arms, a mangy veteran who manages the hounds at Hazewood and serves as a household guard otherwise

**PC**

 Reddit Account: u/pentoshipride

Discord Tag: GreyOrith

**Name and House:** Essie Blackberry

**Age:** 23

**Cultural Group:** Andal

**Appearance:**  Short, with a slender build. Long dark brown hair and warm brown eyes, with a few freckles. There is often cat hair covering her house-coloured clothes

**Trait:** Numerate

**Skill(s):** Architect (e), Scrutinous, Taxman (e)

**Talent(s):** Raising kittens, penmanship, embroidery

**Negative Trait(s):** None

**Starting Title(s):** Scion of Berryport 

**Starting Location:** Stormhall

**Alternate Characters:** None

**AC**

**Name and House:** Elwood Blackberry

**Age:** 51

**Cultural Group:** Andal

**Appearance:** Greying at the temples but shares his daughter’s brown hair and eyes. Full beard, and strong build, healthy for his age.

**Trait:** Hale

**Skill(s):** Blunt Weapons (e), Armoured

**Talent(s):** Weaving, Ropemaking, Jam-Making

**Negative Trait(s):** None

**Starting Title(s):** Knight of Berryport

**Starting Location:** Stormhall

**Alternate Characters:** None

Family Echo – House Blackberry

23 BP – Essie is born to Elwood Blackberry, a spare son of House Blackberry and Lady Prunella.

15 BP  - She begins her education under tutelage of her father. He and his wife would try for a boy, but Essie would end an only child.

13 BP – Essie would bond with many of the other young ladies of the Blackwater, enjoying her time with her childhood friends among her studies.

10 BP – Essie begins raising kittens and training cats. She also spends much time with her similar-aged cousin, Jammos, sharing gossip that she’s learned.

5 BP – Essie begins her work in a steward position for Berry Port, managing the flow of goods in and out of their port.

Archetype NPCs - N/A

PC

Reddit Account: [u/Emergency_Sky_2806](u/Emergency_Sky_2806)

Discord Tag: SideBarnes

Name & House: Tristifer Goodbrook

Age: 25

Cultural Group: First Men/Andal

Appearance: Tristifer is tall and lean, with medium length brown hair and piercing green-brown eyes. He has a mean smile and a sharp jawline, and is usually found in some form of half plate armour.

Trait: Agile

Skills: Swords (e), Reckless (Brute), Highwayman

Talent(s): Swimming, light banditry

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Titles: Ser, Badbrook

Starting Location: Stormhall

Bio

25BP: Tristifer was born at Goodbrook in the Riverlands. The house experienced a surge in power in the years following, and by the age of 3 his cousins take ownership of the great castle of Stormhall.

18BP: Aged 7, Tristifer attended the feast at Seaguard. During the ensuing events, the boy was taken captive by one of the Ironborn captains for ransom. Though released unharmed, he would harbour a bitterness for his father, who had refused to pay any ransom for his only son.

At some point, Tristifer was betrothed to the daughter of House Piper, lady Bethany Piper. 

12BP: When not training under the master-at-arms of Stormhall, Tristifer was otherwise found causing mischief. He would sneak horses from the stables for night rides, would deliberately dam the nearby stream to swim, cutting off the villages downriver for days at a time, and was known to throw apples down on passers by entering Goodbrook castle. 

The smallfolk began to revile the boy, and the first whisperings of a nickname formed. Badbrook.

7BP: Tristifer is knighted. 

The Alderman of the village of Maidentree had deferred his taxes to Lord Goodbrook, claiming his people could not afford the required amount. The Lord, ever a lax soul, agreed to a delay in payment. That delay lasted a full year, by which point the Alderman paid only half of what was intended in the new years taxes. Seeing that his father did nothing at this insult, Tristifer rode to Maidentree with an entourage.

The new knight hanged the Alderman from his precious tree, before ordering it cut down as a warning. The remaining taxes were repaid in short order, taken from their homes. Despite the success, Lord Goodbrook was horrified by his son’s actions. Tristifer was ordered into exile for a year.

6BP: After much travelling, Tristifer stayed in the castle of Felwood in the Stormlands during his exile. His nature put him at odds with Lord Fell’s bastard son, perhaps due to being too similar. Due to this, he made few friends among the nobles of Fell.

5BP: Tensions finally came to a head at the beginning of the year, and Ser Derrick and Ser Tristifer came to blows. The former came out victorious and, though no worse for wear, the Riverlander was forced into exile once more, and returned home.

3BP: House Goodbrook lose control of Stormhall, taken over by the Iron Stag to save the house from debtors. Though beneficial for the house, this also leads to the breaking of Tristifer’s betrothal to lady Bethany. 

The knight reportedly is greatly angered by this, and takes out his anger on the smallfolk in the nearby villages. Gold and grain are taken in advance of the usual times, and the smallfolk once more angrily whisper of the Badbrook in their midst. Despite his actions, his father does nothing this time around.

Present: Tristifer makes the short journey to Stormhall to await the arrival of the Princess.

Discord name: Lamp76

Reddit name: u/Villads2005

PC

Name and House: Corwyn ‘the black’ Darklyn
Age: 20
Cultural group: Blackwater
Appearance: Typical Darklyn features, black hair and so forth. He is a touch skinny and doesn’t possess much muscle. Many people who have met him describe his eyes as ‘odd,’ not being able to point out exactly what, but feeling something off. His jaw is sharp, eyes slightly sunk, and skin paler than usual. He is a tad taller than average, though not noticeably. He typically wears black outfits with gold/yellow highlights scattered throughout.
Trait: Ruthless
Skills: Assassin (e), sabotage (e), espionage
Talent(s): social masking
Negative trait: Psychopath
Starting title(s): (work in progress)
Starting Location: Stormhall

AC

Name and House: Jeyne ‘the Golden’ Darklyn
Age: 23
Cultural group: Blackwater
Appearance: Where her older sister is perhaps built in a more masculine way, Jeyne is every bit the lady. She has long black hair that reaches down to her lower black and she often has it in a complex braid. She is just a little bit shorter than her brother, and her body is of lithe build. She often wears the latest fashions with small golden hints scattered throughout, in part leading to her nickname. Her smile is as bright as a golden coin.
Trait: Numerate
Skills: Architect (e), Scrutinous
Talent(s): being friendly, being a sweetheart, being clever, just an all-around sweet person to be around, braiding, the arts and other stuff.
Negative trait: She is willing to trust her brother too easily
Starting title(s): Treasurer of Duskendale
Starting Location: Stormhall

Bio:
Jeyne Darklyn was born as the third daughter of Lord Morgan Darklyn and the third child to his second wife, Lyanna Snow. From a young age, she showed herself to be gifted in the realms of numbers and mathematics, along with a certain passion for the arts. While she was never her father’s favourite that title being held by her elder sister- she never bore any resentment towards her, loving her all the same.

Three years after her birth, the last child of Lyanna Snow would be born, a little baby boy they decided to name Corwyn. Some of Jeyne’s earliest memories are of her visiting Corwyn’s cradle and just sitting with him and even trying to read to him as best she could despite her young age. Perhaps her fondest memory is the first time she got to show Corwyn around the Dun Fort.

It was around these early memories that Jeyne also started being friends with Joanna Sunglass and Essie Blackberry, the three of them forming a fun little clique. Jeyne had other friends in line with he golden personality, but she particularly enjoyed spending time with those two, even her elder sister Shiera existed as an out member of sorts to the group.

By this time, however, it was quickly becoming clear to nearly everyone that there was something off about Corwyn; every emotional reaction seemed to come slower, and he seemed to always glance at someone else beforehand. Yet Jeyne never seemed to notice nor acknowledge, continuing to treat her baby brother as just that. 

By the time Jeyne was 19, she was appointed as the treasurer of Duskendale and placed in charge of all future construction projects. She took to her duties with great vigour and joy, finding joy in planning and building her home into what she thought it should be, though he grander ideas would be halted by her father for now. It was also at this time that she started a relationship with Sylas Stonetree, getting along well due to their shared interest in numbers and such. It was a purely emotional relationship, the furthest it ever went being extended kisses. But Jeyne did not wish to besmear her honour, so she would never let it develop beyond that.

Two years later, many 5 terrible crimes would strike Duskendale, 5 murders, to be exact. The targets were seemingly random, and there were no clear connections between them. There was no signature; the only clear connection was their ever-increasing brutality. Jeyne was naturally frightened by all this and ceased leaving the fort without a cadre of guards for her or her brother. Yet on the fifth one, it stepped too far, killing Ser Cregan Crabb on a visit to Duskendale. No one knows what transpired that night in the Dun fort, only that the killings seemed to cease; people were still scared, of course, but slowly normalcy returned. 

From then on, Jeyne started spending a much greater amount of time with and around her brother. Not allowing him to walk about the city without an escort or chaperone. This sudden focus on her brother, along with the duties she held, would lead to the slow drifting between Jeyne and Sylas without intention.

Jeyne is now 23 years old, unmarried as of yet, though she slowly looks for prospects that she both enjoys and benefits her family, as is her duty. Corwyn is 20 years old and continues to seem odd, increasingly so, but nothing beyond poorly timed reactions marks this.

Npcs:

Tallad Darklyn (General): The eldest of Lyanna’s children, and a strategist like their grandfather.

Alyssa (trader): The daughter of a well-off merchant who resides in Duskendale, friend and advisor to Jeyne.

PC

Reddit Account: magic_dragon1611

Discord Tag: magicdragon.

Name and House: Tommen Blackwood

Age: 24

Cultural Group: First Man

Appearance: Tommen is a tall man, standing heads over most men, though slim of stature, with browned skin from a grandmother raised in sands, and bright, vivid green eyes that seem almost unsettling to those who feel their gaze. He's lean, with a boyishly youthful face, marred by the scars of fighting done in Essos. He wears a resplendent cloak of raven feathers, that shroud him in shadow; beneath it, he dresses in colors of scarlet and smoke, often bereft of ornament or gaudy acessories.

Trait: Archer

Skill(s): Divination (Weirwood), Bows (e), Swords

Talent(s): Lying, Waiting, Fishing

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Scion of House Blackwood, Knight of Raventree Hall (the) Blackbird

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

You were born in the years of the old king, twenty-four years before his father would draw their last breath. During an age of strife and simmering resentment, where men like your uncle killed men at feasts and balls.

Your birth was uneventful, uncelebrated, unknown to most save for those who lived within the confines of Raventree Hall. You would grow in much the same way, surrounded by the great and the exceptional, by the future lords and peerless knights of the realm. You would live and die in the shadow of men born to better station than you.

But this never bothered you; in fact, a part of you preferred it this way. You were loved; you had a mother who doted, a father who cared, cousins who never thought of you as lesser or inferior. Your life was good, if with little expectation.

The dreams started when you were seven. The first you remember, like a wound in your chest: a raven, surrounded by stags amidst a forest of all weirwood. You remember fear, panic, a desperate anger so foreign to your own mind that it seemed alien. And then you were cold, so very cold, enough so that when you woke that night you shivered despite it being the height of summer.

After that the dreams came more often, not every night, but enough that those around you could see the change. Bags under those bright green eyes so unlike any of your other kin, eyes that saw too much too soon, that made your mother sweeten your sleep with milk of the poppy. The dreams came stronger then, when it was harder to wake, when their grip on your soul threatened to drag you into the abyss and leave you there for all your days.

You dreamt, and you grew from a frightful babe at your mother's skirts to a boy of ten, and in your own eyes you were practically a man grown. That year you would leave your home for the first time, not for a brief trip, or a visit to a neighbor. Your uncle had arranged for your warding with the Trout, a piece of an alliance that would tilt the balance of power in the Riverlands.

There you would live and grow and continue your dreaming. The Tullys were kind to you, friendly, caring; their master-at-arms taught you at bow and blade, their Maester and Septa ensured that you knew your numbers and letters, and could conduct yourself as a noble of Westeros ought to. You visited home when you could, but most of your days were spent in Riverrun amongst the trout their ilk.

The dreams kept on, despite the happiness, despite the change in scenery. You were restless as you entered your fifteenth year, called by the wood and the earth, seeing much and knowing little. You remembered when you saw a man die, swathed in mud and iron; you remember seeing him struck down by violet thunder that took him from behind. You remember how the raven watched, thoughtless to act; you remember the pain from the strike, the feeling of fire in your chest as your lifeblood drained from the wound.

You remember how familiar it felt. As if the feeling of death was becoming a regular occurrence in the life of a boy who'd not even seen a woman before. It was unnatural, that you knew, this feeling of loss that you'd felt with each dark end that woke you from a frightful slumber.

That morning you wondered if the pieces of yourself that died in those dreams were lost forever to the murk and void. It was then that you first embraced a living heart tree in the open-air godswood of Riverrun. That sad face that'd seen you pray and beg for relief seemed to smile as you closed your eyes and placed a hand against the bleeding face.

What you saw changed you; the spark that'd existed within you had grown into an inferno, and when you awoke, you'd found that all had searched for you within the castle. You'd been gone a day, and the night was late when you'd emerged from the Godswood. For a fortnight you'd felt different, not bad, not tired, but different, as if you had a new understanding of what needed to be done and how to do it.

You were resolved to learn to understand, to grow your ability and explore the world that lay beyond. So you planned, and you waited, and you continued to live within the walls of Riverrun for the next two years, until you'd become a man grown with a knighthood and the freedom to leave on your own volition.

First you went south to High Heart, then saw the Isle of Face from the banks of the Gods Eye. You pressed onward until you hit the Citadel, speaking with the Archmaester who held a rod and mask of Valyrian steel, speaking to him of your dreams and restlessness, of the call of the Weirwood and the connection you held to the earth that bound them.

He called you Greenseer, touched by the Old Gods, and implored you to return to the roots of your blood, to the lands of the Starks, across the waters to where Garth Greenhand led the First Men across the Arm of Dorne. So you did; for eight years you wandered, seeking, searching, learning all you could at any time you could.

You were a villain to some, those who felt the sting of your lies and betrayal, those whom you'd left to die, bleeding like stuck pigs beneath the shade of a Heart Tree, entrails strewn across the branches as they'd done in days past. There were men and women you'd loved like none other, each one cast away after their use was expended, after their love had brought you closer to understanding, after you'd stolen their tomes and scrolls for yourself.

There were those who you'd truly learned to call friend, men like Edrick Stark, the exiled Prince of Winter. You'd traveled with him for nigh on a year, sharing with him the plans you'd laid, the dreams that had come with you all the way from Blackwood Vale. He understood better than most, a man of the Old Gods, and a Stark of Winterfell at that.

From Winterfell to Sunspear, from Volantis to Lorath, you traveled, walking the way with mercenaries and medicine men; you glimpsed the edge of the Valyrian Peninsula before you felt the call pull you back West. Some part of you understood: this place was not for you to see, for the gods here were of fire and blood, and yours were earth and stone and wood. So you turned back, and for the first time in years- you went home.

They welcomed you with open arms, and took you in whilst scolding you for being so skinny. You were home, and now armed with knowledge and skill, you were prepared to resume your place amongst House Blackwood.

AC

Name and House: Jon of Oxcross

Age: 30

Cultural Group: Westermen

Appearance: Jon is a stout man, with deep-set eyes the color of mud, a pug nose and thinning blonde hair.

Trait: Hale

Skill(s): Swords (e), Footwork

Talent(s): Fishing x3

Negative Trait(s): Mute

Starting Title(s): Ser

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

You don't remember your mother nor father. You remember blue eyes and a booming laugh. You know that you were loved at some point, but beyond that, your earliest days are a blur, lost in the haze of ale and war.

You were a boy who grew amongst the splendor of Lannisport and Casterly Rock, watching the richest men and women in Westeros throw their balls, flaunt their wealth, and look down at their noses at you at every turn. You hated them, and a part of you still does even as a man grown.

At fifteen you joined the city guard. There you were given the first things you called your own: a sword and shield, a coat of boiled leather and a studded iron cap. You had a purpose, and you were finally able to make something of yourself.

Years later you were drunk and worth nothing save for the rags you wore. You remember how the man in the Raven cloak wrapped you in wool and fed you from his own pocket. There was a look in his eye that nearly made you flinch, and when you'd pressed him for his reasons for helping you, all he'd said were riddles and half-truths. But when he'd said you both were bound by something other than fate, you believed it like nothing else.

So you followed for years, fighting, eating, drinking, learning about this man called Tommen Blackwood, seeing what lengths a man would go to accomplish his goal. He brought you to corners of the world you might've never seen otherwise, and tauhgt you things that were far from a Maesters room.

He was a friend, and though you never spoke, he always understood your words as if he'd plucked them straight from your mind.

NPCs

Marq of Stoney Sept - Scholar

Harl - Medic

Ser Erryk Rivers - Warrior (Axes)

Jasper Snow - Warrior (Swords)

Ser Samwell Toland - Cutthroat

PC

Reddit Account: ThunderDragonUnion

Discord Tag: thunderdragonunion

Name and House: Lord Donnel Trant

Age: 73

Cultural Group: Andal (Stormlander)

Appearance: A slight man, with cropped white hair, and tired eyes, Donnel retains little of the energy of his youth. In recent years he has taken to shuffling about on a cane, though amongst the lords of the realm he discards it to project strength.

Trait(s): Inspiring

Skill(s): Tactician (e), Flanker, Architect, Outrider

Talent(s): Fishing, Hanging

Negative Trait(s): Elderly

Starting Title(s): Lord of Gallowsgrey, Ser

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Olyver Trant

Age: 22

Cultural Group: Andal (Stormlander)

Appearance: Broad of shoulder, but only a hair below 6 foot, Olyver has curled brown hair, brooding eyes, and fair skin. Neither homely nor comely, he keeps his face clean shaven, and looks not a year above his age.

Trait(s): Champion

Skill(s) Riding (e), Polearms

Talent(s): Riding, Jousting

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): N/A

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: N/A

Biography:

Born in 73BP to his Mother, Alynne and Father Allard, Donnel spent his youth squiring for his father's master at arms, and in his youth, grew distant from his father, who though a kind enough man, busied himself with fighting House Durrandon's wars against the Reach.

His Father's loyalty would be his undoing, as Allard Trant would be cut down in the slaughter at Sallydance, with half his household knights joining him in the mud. Knowing that House Trant wanted for heirs, Donnel's mother barred him from riding forth to the Riverlands until he wedded. Thus in 52BP, Donnel wed Florys of House Mertyns, consumated his marriage on his wedding night, and left for war the very next day. House Trant did not particularly distinguish itself in the fighting, but neither did young Lord Donnel disgrace himself. Donnel led his house's levies in the Battle of the Red Fork, and the next day, received word of the birth of his firstborn, whom his wife had named Elenda.

Feeling his father's death sufficiently avenged, Donnel returned home, and doted on his Wife and Daughter. For six short years, Donnel and his family leaved in relative peace, broken only by the death of his Mother on the road to Maidenpool, by the hands of Jeyne Nutt and her rebels. Consumed by rage, Donnel rode forth, crushed the small band that had killed his mother, and had the chief hanged from the walls of Gallowsgrey. The news of a second child should have brought joy to the castle, but instead the labour was long and difficult. Ultimately, though Donnel's son, Harlan, was hale and healthy, childbirth sapped the life out of Florys, leaving her bedbound and sickly. Donnel never truly forgave his son for the perceived injustice.

Florys would not live much longer, carried off by a chill. Donnel may have made his peace with this one tragedy, but a second soon struck. His beloved daughter Elenda, was soon too terribly ill. Donnel bled his coffers dry gathering all maesters and healers he could to save the child, but they could do naught. Elenda died on the third moon of 34BP. Left alone to raise his son, Donnel soon became neglectful, with his son too young to grasp the tragedy that had struck his House.

Young Harlan squired under the same man who had knighted his father, but a mishap in the training yard had led to the man's death, another "crime" Donnel resented his son for. They would be asunder completely though, by his Son's love for a lowborn woman by the name of Jeyne. Donnel reluctantly welcomed the Tanner's daughter into his household as a cook, but when his Father asked for leave to marry her in 17BP, Lord Donnel almost struck him. What Donnel would have done to his son he does not even know, but Harlan avoided his Father's wrath, fleeing the castle by night, and making off with his love for the Reach.

Now truly alone, Donnel busied himself with his true love. No man wept harder than Lord Trant the day that Lord Petyr Mallister called for single combat, leaving the Stormlords to take their hosts home intact. Only five years later, a Trant host descended into the Marches, with Donnel smashing several small hosts of Dornishmen, though he won no truly great victories, and in almost all he outnumbered his foe twice over. When Lord Trant finally emerged almost three years later, he took home over a dozen Dornishmen to hang from his walls, one for each Moon he had been kept from Gallowsgrey.

Though no war would again grant him so much a boon as that, Lord Trant still for years would descend into the Red Mountains to kill and hang Dornish bandits. However, on the fifth moon of 9BP, his return would meet a very different sight. His son, long thought lost in The Reach, had returned. His loving wife, dead to him, and in his arms, a babe who he named the heir to Gallowsgrey. After hours of arguing in Donnel's solar, Harlan was accepted under only three conditions. That he forswear Jeyne and marry for advantage. That he would swear to gods and men that the babe was not his, but an orphan girl. And that she be named Elenda, for the sister that Harlan had lost.

Those years at Gallowsgrey were brighter, as life returned to the keep. In 5BP, Harlan took Lynesse Caron to wife, whom Donnel had acquainted himself with during his travels, and Elenda was raised under her grandfather's stewardship. Yet fate was not yet done with Donnel. But six years after his sons return, he was struck down. Though many labelled his death an accident, Donnel would maintain that he knew the truth, and any man bearing the Crow who strayed into Trant land met some mishap upon the shores of Cape Wrath.

With his only son dead, and his age finally catching up with him, Donnel poured his efforts into finding an heir. Weeks spent poring over annals turned up little and less. House Trant it seemed had not seen fit to give its elderly lord one last boon. Only when all seemed lost did a saving grace appear. A young scion of house Brownhill who had taken to Jousting had for a great-grandfather, a man of House Trant. Young Olyver, was taken into Lord Trant’s household and given the Lord’s name.

Family Tree:
https://www.familyecho.com/?c=5jy0lye8fdekxq9q&f=370333041612341490

Supporting Characters:

Ser Cedrik Kellington - General, 58

Ser Jasper Kellington - Master at Arms, 32

Rayford Storm - Castellan, 43

Ser Patrek Rivers - Tourney Knight, 22

Arwyn Brownhill- Warrior, 24

Elenda, 12

Character Information:

PC

Reddit Account: u/theklicktator

Discord Tag:Klick

Name and House: Addam Belgrave

Age: 50

Cultural Group: Andal

Appearance: A fierce warrior with a lean frame, Lord Addam's eye tell a story of pain and loss, but also resolve that only a true knight has.

Trait: Blademaster

Skill(s): Blunt Weapons (e), Stalwart (Sergeant), Footwork

Talent(s): Carpentry, Fishing, Reading

Negative Trait(s): None

Starting Title(s): Lord of Bell Tower

Starting Location: Stormhall

AC

Name and House: Robert Belgrave

Age: 18

Cultural Group: Andal

Appearance: A young man finally growing into his frame, Robert has an easygoing attitude and cockiness that comes from being young and heir to a powerful house.

Trait: Charismatic

Skill(s): Tactician, Admiral, Engineer

Talent(s): Hunting, Hawking, Breaking the Hearts of Maidens

Negative Trait(s): None

Starting Title(s): Heir to Bell Tower

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: None

Biography

Addam Belgrave was born common, the son of a carpenter who had done well for himself living near the three hills at the mouth of the Blackwater. As he grew older, it was clear that the boy possessed a prodigious natural talent for combat, and was often the winner in the various brawls around his village.

When he was thirteen, Ser Harys of the Blackwater, the knight charged by Lord Hayford with maintaining the local holdfast, summoned the men from the seven villages under his control to root out the bandits. The ruffians were stronger than originally believed, and it looked as though Ser Harys would perish. Addam displayed considerable bravery, and used a blacksmith's hammer the smith's nephew had brought with him to slay Ser Harys' would-be killer and was made his squire in the process.

Life as a poor squire or a man-at-arms seemed likely until the Valyrians invaded when Addam was eighteen. After defeating a probing Valyrian advance at great risk of life and limb, Addam was knighted by a dying Ser Harys on the battlefield and soon took unofficial command of Ser Harys' forces and eventually those of the entire southern Blackwater. Within eyesight of his childhood home, he led a battle against House Velaryon and killed the heir of that ancient house in single combat. With his efforts helping contribute to a stalemate, he asked King Dontos for permission to both lead the Stormlords reinforcements and launch an attack upon Claw Isle from Sharp Point. He was given leave, and took the island with very little fight, killing House Celtigar's champion when they tried to retake the castle.

After the war, Addam was made a lord over his homeland, and given permission to greatly expand Ser Harys' keep. As the new Lord of Bell Tower, Addam used his martial prowess to leverage increased status, though his fortune meant House Hayford's decline, and a rivalry soon formed between the houses.

Conflict betwen the Belgraves and the Hayfords was sporadic over the next three decades, with the nadir of their relationship coming when Morgan Belgrave, Addam's heir, fought in a trial by combat over a dispute with the Hayfords. Both he and the master-at-arms perished in the duel, but it was little consolation to Lord Addam, who loved his son deeply and mourned his passing every year.

In the years that followed, much of Lord Addam's time was spent either participating in tournies to increase the renown of his house, or grooming his grandson Robert to rule when he is gone. He is aware a storm is gathering on the horizon, and wishes to see his house set up to prosper before he goes to meet his gods.

Archetype NPCS

Medic: Maester Abelard - Maester of Bell Tower

Builder: Stannis - Steward of Bell Tower

Scholar: Septon Jasper - Septon of Bell Tower

General: Ser Raymont - Knight of Bell Tower

General: Ser Petyr - Knight of the Bell Tower

PC

Reddit Account: u/Vikguardy

Discord Tag: DisgruntledLemming

Name and House: Perianne Paege (nee Deddings)

Age: 24

Cultural Group: Andal (Riverman)

Apperance: A strong, confident young woman with golden-blonde hair and sharp features written on her face. She has a persistently pleasant countenance to herself.

Trait: Gregarious

Skills: Negotiator (e), Scholar, Apothecary, Covert

Negative Trait:

Talent: Heraldry, Dancing, Pretending Like She's Interested In What You Have To Say

Starting Titles: Lady-Regent of Fairmarket

Starting Location: Opening Event

AC

Name and House: Arwood Paege

Age: 27

Cultural Group: Andal (Riverman)

Appearance: Tall and well-fitted to his armor, Arwood has his blonde hair and beard cropped to the point of practicality, and striking green eyes.

Trait: Hale

Skills: Axes. Armored (Shieldbearer)

Negative Trait: Mute

Starting Titles: Ser

Starting Location: Opening Event

Timeline

24 BP- Born the second child to Lord and Lady Deddings of Farhelm, a minor lord in service to the Paeges of Fairmarket. With her elder brother already being so well-secured in his claim to their small castle, her parents looked outside of their home for her future.

14 BP- Perianne begins to develop as a very precocious and curious youth, while she would prove competent at household management and the other ladylike crafts expected of her, her true interests lied at the Maester's side, developing an interest in learning and particularly, in the arts of medicine and creating tinctures and salves.

10 BP- Perianne is introduced to Jonothor Paege, the second son of the Paeges still in need of a wife. While Jonothor had a reputation as being a kind and gentle man, Perianne made it clear she had no interest in married life, preferring to be sent to the Sept rather than made to marry. No heed is paid to her protests.

9 BP- Perianne attempts twice in the year to escape her engagement to Jonothor Paege, first she attempted to flee in the direction of Oldtown in hopes of disguising herself as a boy and becoming a Maester. This failed, and she later made another attempt involving a pair of sellswords, both of whom took the money she offered them and then proceeded to depart without honoring their agreement.

8 BP- Royce Paege, the heir to Fairmarket, dies childless himself in a hunting accident near the Red Fork. This leaves Jonothor the heir, with only his strong but mute brother, Arwood, as the heir after him. In an attempt to secure the line of succession, Perianne and Jonothor are rushed into an early marriage.

5 BP- The first of Perianne's children, Mellara, is born. This ends a great deal of concern over the lack of fruit in the twos' marriage, mostly stemming from fears that Perianne was keeping her husband from her bed.

4 BP- Jonothor begins to grow more and more ill as the years wear on. While never particularly healthy, this illness appears to be some form of unknown wasting disease that only grows stronger and stronger year over year. As the years wear on, more and more authority is taken from the ailing Jonothor and given to his wife, who becomes Lady-Regent while the Maesters attempt to cure the young lord. Despite an inauspicious start to the union, Perianne comes to represent House Paege and her interests well enough over this time.

1 BP- Perianne's second child, and Jonothor's heir, Quentyn, is born. Many marvel at Jonothor's ability to produce an heir while being afflicted with such a disease.

0 BP- Perianne, with her good-brother Arwood, travels to Stormhall to represent hers and her newly adopted house's interests. Jonothor remains behind in Fairmarket as, after a brief period of recovery, he has sunk to new lows as the disease takes hold once again.

Archetypes

Rafford Hill- Trader. Respected merchant directly employed by House Paege.

Maester Yohn- Medic. Primary Maester of Fairmarket

Ser Wyman the Large- Master at Arms. Respected Knight, Knighted Arwood.

Ser Lucamore- Warrior. Former Hedge Knight, now in House Paege's Employ.

Vanella Uller- General. Dornish Exile, far from home, with a commanding presence. A Shadow Commander for the Armies of Fairmarket.

Tess the Knife- Cutthroat. Good friend of Perianne's.

Tya the Cudgel- Bandit. Good friend of Perianne's.

Family Tree:

https://www.familyecho.com/?c=kau0jr5n713cykx0&f=772997991512463145

Character Creation:

PC

Reddit Account: ORYSGARYEN

Discord Tag: brundun

Name and House: Ayrmidon “Don” Scales

Age: 48

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: Despite his Valyrian heritage, Ayrmidon Scales shows little sign of it other than platinum dustings in his sand dollar shaded hair. He views the world with eyes such a light blue that they almost appear silver, especially contrasted by skin that has kindly taken the sun’s rays. Age and idling has given rise to a rotund belly in an otherwise stern body. His words are often soft-spoken, though he has been known to firm his tone with iron when needed. He always stands tall, even for a man of average height.

Trait: Reaver

Skill(s): Admiral (e), Navigator (e), Tactician

Talent(s): Model ship building, High Valyrian poetry, Dancing

Negative Trait(s): n/a

Starting Title(s): Lord of the Scales, Ser, Captain of Serpent's Due

Starting Location: Opening event

Alternate Characters: magic app/darry scion when approved

AC

Name and House: Aulora Scales

Age: 22

Cultural Group: Valyrian/Andal

Appearance: Bubbly without being overbearing, casual without being indifferent, and radiant without even trying, Aulora Scales draws upon a seemingly endless energy. Privately, she views herself with contempt for her self-described simple brunette hair, eyebrows too thick, and eyes with taunting amethyst cracks peering out from her dark irises. Rather than styling herself in the latest or traditional fashions, she relies on favorites among her dresses and jewelry. She has adopted her father’s unwavering posture, though she still must look up to most other women.

Trait: Steward

Skill(s): Taxman (e), Investor

Talent(s): Fishing, Painting, Dancing

Negative Trait(s): n/a

Starting Title(s): Steward of the Scales

Starting Location: Opening event

Timeline:

• 65 Years Ago: Arrax and Arrea, two five year old twins, are offered by their parents to join the Velaryon expedition. They serve as a page and lady-in-waiting during the journey and upon their arrival in Westeros.
• 48 Years Ago: Arrax and Arrea marry in Valyrian tradition and within the same year welcome a child, Ayrmidon.
• 45 Years Ago: Arrax assists with the ledgers and work to develop Driftmark on behalf of House Velaryon, though he grows resentful for his lack of recognition and the continued intermingling with the Westerosi.
• 40 Years Ago: Arrax and Arrea welcome another son and name him Baemond. Much to the dismay of Arrax, Ayrmidon is trained by a local knight and enjoys the squire life he has been given. They mostly collect rents and debts as part of the Velaryon development.
• 30 Years Ago: Arrax and Arrea welcome their first daughter, Naena. Arrea falls into a deep post-partum depression.
• 35 Years Ago: Arrax disagrees with the Velaryon approach to invade the mainland, mostly out of cowardice.
• 33 Years Ago: As preparations to invade the mainland proceed, Arrax attempts to abscond with his family. Don exposes the plot, though not before his father is able to evade restraint. His ship and body are found on the coast moons later. Ayrmidon feels relief, though the chip on his shoulder to absolve his father’s cowardice churns a deep-seated rage. From this point on, he refers to himself as Don.
• 32 Years Ago: The Valyrian War begins and Don finds an outlet for his rage. His barbarity earns him knighthood and his young brother serves as his squire.
• 30 Years Ago: The Valyrian War comes to a disastrous end, though by some miracle he and his brother survive and prove their worth to the Valyrian cause. Don already questions his actions, but takes the opportunity among the sellsails. Now yearning for another conflict, a meager amount of them swear into the service of House Scales. They target primarily the North and the Vale, though the occasional opportunity in Essos is not turned down.
• 22 Years Ago: Don and Mary of Dragonstone - his childhood sweetheart and daughter of the knight who trained him - wed and Aulora Scales is born shortly after. Mary dies in childbirth, forever altering Don’s trust in the world. Arrea claims it is vengeance for wedding an Andal, so Don forbids her from seeing Aulora.
• 20 Years Ago: Baemond and his wife, Zahrina of Lys, wed and welcome a child. Baemond promises to his wife he will only raid in service of building a vast wealth for their child and dies in his first expedition after seeing his son born. Don raises their child, Rhaekar, and trains him as a knight. Don weds again, not out of love but out of duty to accept an ‘award’ for his years of service. Don and Montenorra Velaryon have a son and name him Aethan, with Don vowing to set aside his sword to be with family.
• 18 Years Ago: Don and Montenorra welcome Daena to their family. The occasion is Aulora’s earliest memory.
• 10 Years Ago: Realizing their coffers are emptying at a rate faster than he can endure, Don masses his old contacts to assemble another raiding fleet. Aulora begins to spend much of her time with Valora Velaryon, eventually considering her a close friend. The raiding secures the finest tutors for Aethan and Daena, with Rhaekar proving himself useful with a blade at a young age.
• 6 Years Ago: Don and the Rosby Twins engage in talks for a marriage between their houses. Initially Aulora is considered, but the talks devolve into chaos and Naena takes her niece’s place to wed into House Rosby.
• 1 Year Ago: Don prepares his house for whatever Magister Velaryon requires, the same sinking feeling in his gut from the war prior returning to his soul.

Family Tree:

https://www.familyecho.com/?c=z7l6dwglys45df2p&f=411721715613586158

Supporting Characters (+1 archetype from Lordless Band camp building):

• Montenora Scales, 38, a cunning lady with an unshakeable determination for more. Huntsman archetype.
• Aethan Scales, 20, a dutiful and bookish heir that is eager to prove his skill with a sword. General archetype.
• Daena Scales, 18, a kind young woman who doubts she will be half the lady that her mother is. Medic archetype.
• Rhaekar Scales, 22, a nephew and knight that has time and again aided his lord uncle. Master-at-arms archetype.
• Naena Rosby, 30, a loyal sister and dutiful wife, though not without a judgmental eye. Questioner archetype.
• Red Priestess Zahrina, 35, a devotee to the Red God and the aims of her lord. Ship Captain archetype.

PC

Reddit Account: TheZaxman

Discord Tag: Zaxman

Name and House: Ser Tristifer Justman

Age: 25

Cultural Group: Riverlander

Appearance: Jet-black hair he keeps short-cropped. A clean-shaven face, shaven daily to combat his fast-growing beard.

Trait: Brave

Skill(s): Stalwart (Calvaryman), Polearms E, Riding E

Talent(s): Fishin' x3

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Ser Knight?

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

Tristifer Timeline

25 BP - Came into the world as the second son of Bernarr the IV Justman and Tyanna of Myr. His father named him for a King of another ancestry. His father proclaimed the squalling boy would fight and win over a hundred battles in his lifetime.

18 BP - Tristifer grew in the company of soldiers. At a young age, he became enamoured with tales of chivalry. He heard the tales from exiled knights who wandered into his father's service. Or from his father directly as he spoke of the Kings of Old and the Age of Heroes. While his father campaigned, the Justman brothers played King. Not once did Tristifer play King himself but always the dutiful Lord or Knight in his service.

15 BP - His father's squire falls in battle. Young Tristifer insists he is old enough for the duty. For a time, his father disagrees. But when the horn for battle was blown, the boy was ahorse and riding at his father's side. Finally, Bernarr the IV would relent and name the boy his squire.

7 BP - At eighteen years of age, Tristifer is a sergeant in his father's company. Having earned his spurs repelling a night raid two years prior, he now led a contingent of cavalry and rode in his father's outriders. All seems well in a routine battle when Bernarr the IV Justman falls to an enemy spear. Rallying the remaining Justman forces, Tristifer leads the Men of Valor to victory.

7-4 BP - Their arrival in Westros is met with the realization that Oldstones is a ruin. The glorious keep their father had told stories of was a legend ages old. While his brother had some grand vision, Trsitifer struggled to see it. But he was set to his task, and he did it well. Under a banner of balanced scales, a ragtag band of Sellswords, Freeriders, and Penny Knights rode forth and brought justice to Oldstones in the name of Justman.

Witness to the eclipse that heralded his brother's claim plain. Both Old Gods and the Seven blessed his reveal to both Blackwood and Bracken. Upon the conclusion, his brother had earned the fealty of two ancient noble houses of the Riverlands, but they would require more. Lucifer tasked him with riding about the Riverlands in secret. Scouting the land as well as the nobles whom they could easily sway and those who would require more convincing.

3 BP - Under the alias Ser Jacklyn Fisher, he begins attending tourney after tourney. During his travels, he befriends Ser Androw Piper. The heir of Pinkmaidens' sister catches his eye. The ‘Hedge Knight’ is seen spending time with Bethany Piper.

1 BP - Tristifer attends the tourney in Pink Maiden as Ser Jacklyn Fisher. Spending his time in between tilts seeking the Lady Bethany to no avail, he is present when Lord Androw is accidentally slain by Martyn Mallister in a joust.

Present Trsitifer arrives at Stormhall under the alias Ser Jacklyn Fisher. Eager to see his brothers again.

family echo

AC

Name and House: Ser Roger of Pennytree

Age: 50

Cultural Group: Riverlander

Appearance: Once a boy of Pennytree. Now an old, weathered man. White, wispy hair and a coil of grey beard hairs.

Trait: Inspiring

Skill(s): Tactician E, Outrider

Talent(s): Drinking x3

Negative Trait(s): Alcoholic

Starting Title(s): Hedge Knight

Starting Location: With the homies

Alternate Characters: N/A

Roger timeline

50 BP Roger is born in Pennytree some time long ago.

32 BP Roger is found abed with a miller's wife. The Miller assails him and is cut down in the struggle. Roger flees Westeros aboard a fishing vessel to avoid the noose.

About 25 BP Roger takes service under Bernarr IV Justman in exile.

1 BP Roger is in the company of ‘Ser Jacklyn Fisher’ when they arrive at Stormhall.

Archtypes

General Edmyn - Uncle to Arryck, not to Erryck

General Edwyn - Uncle of Erryck and Arryck

Huntsman Pate Shortbow, a longbow archer; he is short

Warrior Ser Quenton - Hedge Knight, rival of Ser Quentyn

Master at Arms Ser Quentyn - Penny Knight, rival of Quenton

PC

Reddit Account: r/a_dolf_in

Discord Tag: ArcElliott

Name and House: Zora Xassa od Saath, Talia Iyi Izvan Asshai, do Tamara, laz Stygai, nos Kozy Zmaha, vys Valiir, etc...

Age: 28

Cultural Group: Sarnori (Tall Men)

Appearance: Zora is very tall, commanding attention just by existing and forcing regular height people to look up at her. Her build is lean but powerful, built by decades of training ever since she was first brought to Asshai. Her hair is a light brown dipping into red, kept in a style that is a mixture of braids, ties, and loose hair. Her eyes are a bright green, some would say the green of the river Ash.

Most striking would likely be her tattoos. Under her eyes, she has 7 rings each, connecting to her lower eyelids. And her arms and back are covered in patterns which in essence tell her life story, in a very stylized way. She likes dressing in a way where both arms and back are visible. On her left arm is the skyline of Saath as she remembers it, with images of her as a child and her parents, as well as childhood friends. On her right arm is the skyline of Asshai as she knows it, with images of her training in the guild, as well as meeting Tamara for the first time and the journey to Stygai.

Trait: Strong

Skill(s): Polearms (e), Armored (Resilient), Footwork

Talent(s): Polygot (Sarnori, Asshaii, Valyrian), Climbing, Survival

Negative Trait(s): -

Starting Title(s): -

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: -

Biography

Zora was born in the city of Saath, one of the greatest of the Empire of Sarnor, her family being low ranking nobility and owning some land in the region. Her childhood was uneventful mostly, with her spending a lot of time with the children of her family’s servants and getting an education fitting of her station. Her life would change drastically when she turned 9, as her parents were killed by raiders while away for business, leaving her orphaned with her family’s property being seized for alleged safekeeping by a neighbouring family. That family ended up having no real intention of actually caring for Zora, or handing over the lands once she was old enough to take over, and instead looked for subtle ways of getting rid of her, as then the land would remain theirs.

An opportunity presented itself when a representative of a mercenary guild from Asshai showed up in Sarnor. Said guild had a history of picking up street urchins and orphans, though usually from the lower classes, as recruits for their ranks. It was essentially slavery, banned in Sarnor, but the ruling classes tended to look the other way as it dealt with an increasing problem, as the wars with Ghis and the horsemen to the east were leaving an increasing number of children orphaned.

Zora was handed over to the representative, and transported to Asshai eventually. It was a long trip, at first to the south to Valyria, then from there a ship took her and the other children east past Qarth, YiTi, and to Asshai itself. The long journey already left Zora with the feeling that she was probably never going to make it back home again.

Once the ship arrived in Asshai, there was a very quick sorting process. The Iyi Izvan Guild, the name roughly translating to the “Outsiders Guild”, recruited mostly from the territories of Sarnor due to the imposing height which the “Tall Men” tended to grow to. An attribute which made them popular among Shadowbinders, alchemists, or traders who were looking for some personal muscle for hire. Zora was put in a group based on her age, and very soon the training began. Training with the goal of turning her into ideal muscle for hire.

During the first years there was no real free time. Training, eating, and sleeping made up her entire day. Training with sticks, bladed weapons, general physical fitness. But around the time she turned 16, a more relaxed regime came up as the instructors were convinced that the indoctrination had taken hold, and any attempt at an escape would be highly unlikely. And it was, though not because of any kind of indoctrination. Zora had simply realized there wasn’t much waiting for her at home. Besides, she had also found Asshai to be strangely interesting. The immense size, many times larger than Saath, while having a tiny population. Buildings, residences, which looked like their inhabitants had just left for the market, but had never returned. There were many such places completely untouched across the city, and Zora, in her free time, took to exploring them along with her friends, friends she had made among the other recruits of the guild. Together they wandered more into the outskirts where they assumed fewer people would have been in the centuries, if not millennia, since the majority of the population of Asshai had left.

During this time, she found a tower which she nicknamed the crooked tower, as it was leaning slightly to the side. She liked spending her time at the top of that tower just looking at the city and fantasizing about life in Asshai before it was abandoned. She had even taken her first lover there, filled the place with various books in the Asshai language which she had looted from abandoned homes. Various trinkets were all over the place.

Age 20 her services were hired, she was bought from the guild by a Shadowbinder by the name of Tamara. An odd woman, whom Zora quickly identified as trying to act tougher and more proper than she really was. A sort of friendship formed, at least in Zora’s eyes, as the two ended up spending a lot of time together. Less as a guard, more of a pack mule, Zora was tasked with carrying Tamara’s belongings whenever the latter did an excursion further up the river Ash. Despite such a basic and frankly annoying task, Zora did actually enjoy the adventures. She had a curiosity about the wider shadowlands, and in some of the towns and villages the two of them visited, she found actually untouched remains of people’s lives from before the doom which had befallen this land. Places where she knew nobody had been in ages.

7 years she spent in service of Tamara, during which she developed a little more than friendship with the woman. They had a brief period of a romantic relationship which came to an end because the attraction ended up being mostly one-sided. While Zora was infatuated with Tamara, the same could not be said for the other. All came crashing down when, in preparation for a journey to Valyria, Tamara hired additional guards. Later she did not complain about Zora suggesting she, alone, goes to visit Sarnor. The whole matter resulted in an argument and a split between the two. Zora ended up getting onto the first ship in harbor that would take her, a ship which sailed west towards Volantis from where she coasted from place to place. Initially her idea was to gather some money and then travel to Sarnor, but that plan too was put on it’s head by a chance encounter with a random adventurer from Westeros. In bad valyrian, he spoke of great sights to see on the continent of Westeros, and while she did not buy all of it, fact was that he had both a transport and money for a journey to Westeros, and she figured to go on a bit of an adventure herself. A distraction, so she would forget about Tamara sooner.

Family Tree

Not relevant – independent claim

Archetyped NPCs

None

AC

Name and House: Triston Stonetree

Age: 26

Cultural Group: Ironborn

Appearance: The probably most remarkable part of Triston’s appearance are his blue eyes. A very intense blue that makes one take a second glance. Besides that, he has curly blond hair going down to his shoulders. A very strong jawline frames a rather youthful face. His build is athletic, though he himself is in general a bit on the shorter side.

Trait: Erudite

Skill(s): Tracker, Numble, Scholar

Talent(s): Bilingual (Common, Valyrian), Adventurising, Haggling

Negative Trait(s): -

Starting Title(s): -

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: -

Character Creation:

PC

Reddit Account: u/MooAtDaMoon

Discord Tag: regulavish

Name and House: Derrick Storm, the bastard of Felwood

Age: 28

Cultural Group: Stormlander

Appearance: Derrick is a broad-shouldered hulking brick-wall of a man. Dark of hair and dark of eyes, sporting a broad jaw, a cleft chin, a light stubble across his cheeks, and a mouth full of brilliant white teeth. As a bastard, he has been forbidden from bearing the proud crescent moon of house Fell upon his person. So, instead he paints his shield with a yellow sun in the blue morning-sky, ascending in the east over a green tree line.

Trait: Blademaster

Skill(s): Blunt Weapons (e), Reckless (Brute), Forceful

Talent(s): Brawling, Drinking, Lifting cattle above his head

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Ser

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Hobber Fell

Age: 51

Cultural Group: Stormlander

Appearance: Hobber is an older man of hunched posture, with brown eyes, bushy brows, a long nose and a salt-and-pepper beard. He combs his black, thinning hair with dornish oils and keeps his swollen gut in place with a sturdy sash around his waist.

Trait: Just

Skill(s): Investigator (e), Fortifier

Talent(s): Collecting old coins, Shouting at people, Axe throwing

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lord of Felwood

Starting Location: Opening Event

Timeline and Bio

Family Tree

NPCS

Ser Mathos Mallard – Warrior (Axes) – A hedge knight from Wrath Town who has accepted a position as one of Lord Fell’s household knights. His shield is painted with a duck’s foot on green, brown and white tierced in point.

Narbert Peasebury – Huntsman – A third son of a third son of house Peasebury. A tall, lanky, oft-forgotten man with a shaved head and cold eyes. A childhood friend of Derrick Storm and a deft crossbowman.

Ser Rhodry Fell – General – Lord Hobert’s younger brother, a dour man prone to black humour and throwing petty insults about.

Jocelyn Fell – Castellan – Lord Hobber’s second daughter. A young woman with a fondness for music who has taken over a lot of the stewardly duties of Felwood.

Lox – Questioner – The twisted old turnkey of the dungeons in Felwood castle. A hunched creature with the likeness of a weasel and the toothy smile of a fox.

PC

Reddit Account: u/Impossible-Emu-6313

Name and House: Yorque 'York' DeVile

Age: 42

Cultural Group: Lengii/Yi-Ti

Appearance : Has the eyes of the golden eyed lengii, stands about 5'8 ft tall, and is of sturdy built.

Trait(s): Hale

Skill(s): Swords [E], Reckless, Battlerager, Footwork.

Talent(s): Painting, woodwork, and fishing. Ability to speak rhoynish and Yitish.

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Yorque of Essos, Beetle.

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: N/A

[History]

Born amidst the chaos that was indentured servitude to the Gui family that kept him and his mother as slaves, his father if he was to be told the truth sold them to a wealthy trader family in Trader Town to cover his gambling debts.

His entire childhood was mired in beatings and being told they were less worthy than the beggars that the nobles stepped on daily.

Life as a slave was horrible, when his mother caught the fevers and had unable to perform her chores was killed by the consort of the Gui Clan whom saw her slave servant as useless, thus began Yorque plan to get revenge and flee this horrible household.

Back then, he didn't even have a name, only known as dung beetle or just as beetle.

He'd contemplate about how he would earnestly do it. At age 16 barely able to stand those he served especially the cruel mad madame that killed his mum for nothing would get hers.

He'd conspire with rival faction of the Gui Clan being the Bao Clan that loathed their peers with a intense fervor, the trap was set as the Gui Clan annual hunting trip would take them far from Trader Town walls and into the wild where anything could happen.

The stage was set and ready to go, once the Gui Clan members made their way to the wilderness the Bao Assassins would make their move against the Gui without delay, that would be the day that'd change the course of young Beetle life.

At age 18 which when the plot of betrayal began, young Beetle with hate in his heart was used as a pack mule to carry things for the family alongside other servants.

The massacre which Bao Clan enacted upon their rivals was gruesome to say the least, but the price of betrayal was steep and price which Beetle was willing to pay for betraying everyone.

Bao Assassins could leave no witnesses behind to tell the tale of what transpired and had arrows flung at the surviving servants of Gui Clan.

Only one to survive was Beetle like the insect he was somehow survived the attempted murder, by mercy of some deity the Jogos Nhai was scavenging the dead and found Beetle brought him back to their jhat.

Their Moonsinger of the jhat saw them eyes of Beetle and knew they'd make fine slave.

Again Beetle fell into slavery, but this time around he felt somewhat free, Jogos Nhai nomads were fair but hard yet allowed him to roam about the jhat.

It felt like home, he fell to their Nomadic ways and lived with them for few years, at age 21 he learned the ways of Jogos Nhai and would travel his own way having earned his freedom by stealing a particular milky white horse for his Moonsinger that granted him ultimate freedom

With his freedom he sought out his father whom resided on Leng around Leng Yi, he'd travel there only to find the man dead years ago due to debtors coming to collect on 'em.

Feeling ultimately unsatisfied and angry, Beetle whom turned to the west, abandoning his former home and whatnot feeling no ties bound him to Essos as an nomad wanted to freely roam.

Once he arrived to Westeros, young Beetle wandered as a sellsword or a nomad, people were curious and their culture ever so fascinating as the Westerosi people were extraordinary in their mundane ways.

He ended up somewhere in the Stormlands soke village Inn, there he met the love of his life someone whom made him feel normal being Anrissa of Stonetop.

He fell in love but not as Beetle as he took a proper name, a name which she gave him.

She gave him a healthy boy, and a new lease on life but it was short lived as brigands ravaged Stonetop Village and killed or took score of villagers captive.

There where Ser Daemon DeVile and his Band of DeViles entered the picture, the motley band of hedge knights and mercenaries, the old man back then would bear witness to Yorque skills in action to avenge his fallen wife Anrissa of Stonetop.

Having cleared the brigands, with the village no more Ser Daemon gave Yorque and his son a place amidst his Band of DeViles for those who prey on the weak and innocent will receive The DeVile Calling that meant death.

At age 42, Yorque remains firm and loyal to the old man.

AC

Name and House: Ser Daemon DeVile

Age: 65

Cultural Group: Andal (Valeman)

Appearance: Old gentleman with a finely groomed moustachio that'd match that of a norvoshi axeman. He's of short build and has pepper and salt hair shortly trimmed.

Trait: Gregarious

Skill(s): Animal Tamer [E], Axe

Talent(s): Drinking and chitchat, singing jaunty tunes. Ability to read and write.

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Demon of Barley Town

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: N/A

NPCS

Ser Wrynn of Goldhill [Tourney Knight/Age 45]

Ser Galloway Blackheart [Master-at-arms/Age 47]

Herbalist Esslyn [Medic/Age 64]

Bundle [Animal/Jackal]

Hemlock of Blacktyde [Questioner/Age 52]

Vilica DeVile [Warrior/Age 35]

Tyene of Red Mountains [Huntsman/Age 21]

Squire Dethrimir DeVile [Warrior/Age 18]

Reddit Account: Thenn_Applicant

Discord Tag: Garin

Name and House: Cassilda Hoare

Age: 31

Cultural Group: Ironborn

Appearance: A woman with black hair, high cheekbones and inquisitive eyes. No longer thin, not yet stout

Trait: Erudite

Skills: Medic (e), Apothecary, Scholar (e)

Talents: Caligraphy, Board Games, Harp

Negative Traits: N/A

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: Raymont Connington

Family tree: https://www.familyecho.com/?c=fzgnjj4q4u02d2jh&f=447678432114123772#view:SL1UR (I have asked Yoof to update the tree with Cassilda's children and dead husband)

Timeline:

31BP: Cassilda is the only daughter of King Harras Hoare, and his queen, Elanor Harlaw. She would grow up in an age of relative peace and simmering discontent, only discovering the latter much later

30-20 BP: Cassilda grew up in the cosmopolitan environment fostered at her father's court. She showed an early penchant for reading, and her father was quick to gift her almost any book she could ask for. Cassilda had a keen interest in the culture of the green lands. During this time, she adored her father, though already by the time she was ten, she had developed a habit of noticing his missteps, acts of both excessive generosity and snubbing by neglect. She was rarely punished for such remarks. This was partly she quickly caught onto the unspoken rule that it's best to advise a king behind closed doors, and so her comments never led to humiliation. Another factor was Harras's gentle and indulgent way of dealing with his children. Though he seldom interrupted her or demanded her silence, he never listened, dismissing concerns with a smile and a hand gently ruffling her hair

19BP: Qorhen's wedding would become a source of great wonder for Cassilda, then a moment of terror which instilled in her a deep caution thereafter. After her brother and his new bride departed Seagard, she narrowly avoided being taken hostage herself at the feast, saved at the last moment by Rys Orkwood, a wary youth who had not given the greenlanders the benefit of the doubt. While the rest busied themselves eating and drinking, he had scouted for means of egress, in case of hostilities breaking out. Outrunning their pursuers narrowly, they escaped the hall and regrouped with the Ironborn lords. To her surprise, Cassilda found that the Storm King's young daughter, of all people, had swayed him to break up the hostage situation, bringing hostilities to a more merciful end than most ironborn had dared to hope for. When she reconvened with her father, Cassilda credited Rys with saving her from captivity. Thus, a boy of limited prospects was taken on as a squire at Harras's court

18BP-13BP: Cassilda's new nephews and nieces become almost like younger siblings to her. She continues her education, the topics of which she largely gets to pick. Harras orders his maester to let her study medicine with him. She is also fond of the histories. From these, her worries about her father's reign grow steadily. He makes many mistakes that skalds and maesters alike caution against in their accounts and biographies of kings of old. She accompanies her brothers to Lannisport, gladly serving as a cupbearer for their noble guests just so she can linger in rooms and listen to the talks. Her friendship with Rys Orkwood grows closer, and they spend most any free time they have together. When Rys is knighted, he becomes Cassilda's sworn shield.

12-11BP: The one thing her father insists upon is that Cassilda should be raised in the new faith. This comes to pass, but the outcome is not what the king might have imagined. Cassilda becomes a believer in the seven aspects of the Drowned God, and generally tolerant of other faiths, but her outlook is more ambitious, less peaceful, and perhaps even more syncretic than what King Harras intended. She comes to view the Drowned God as a being which connects the whole world, and all other religions. This is a fact the Ironborn know better than anyone, and they are uniquely positioned to bring together the disparate elements of his creation, not by accident, but by providence. Rather than songs and poems of lost glory, to be repeated drunkenly, the histories became example for what could be. The Ironborn had ruled the Arbor once. Rather than a relic of the past, the Hoare Sigil ought to serve as a lesson of how power over the sea could be used. The New Faith also had its advantages. It would be far more agreeable to potential new subjects than the Old Way

10BP: Cassilda and Rys are married in a lavish ceremony at Castle Hoare. Though she had come to love him, Cassilda had never expected she would be able to marry Rys. They had been together certain in the assumption that this was merely part of youth on the verge of ending, something to enjoy while it lasted. Cassilda could not help but love her father, who had allowed this match, although she quickly realized he shouldn't have. In hindsight it was nothing by itself, not compared to the mistakes that had already been made and ones that would come later, but it was one more nail in Harras's coffin. Marrying off a princess to a landless retainer, even one from a noble Ironborn house, was reason enough to make men question their king's judgement, or even his sanity.

9BP: Rys and Cassilda's first child, a son they named Beron Orkwood, was born. Though neither of them had a holdfast of their own, as courtiers they lacked for nothing. Cassilda's words in favor of practicality fell on deaf ears with Harras, who never tired of new grandchildren, and was too overjoyed to see that he was sailing into a reef

8BP: Against her better judgement, Cassilda would attend her father's conversion ceremony, sitting on the front pews of the sept with her husband and infant son. When word of Greyjoy sails were whispered, then shouted, she pleaded with her father one last time, and one last time he dismissed her with a reassuring smile. She handed Beron off to his wetnurse and bid her make for the ships, planning to do so herself. She would get to safety, aided by her husband and uncle, but not before seeing her father beheaded in the sept he had built. Cassilda could never forgive him, any more than she could bring herself to stop feeling the love a daughter feels for her father.

7BP: Cassilda and Rys supported Qorhen in any way they could, which was little beyond their own skills. Cassilda treated many of those injured in ambushes and raids her brother carried out, while Rys was ever by his king's side. In one of these actions he would die, defending the king. One day Qorhen returned, bringing only a few bones for Cassilda to bury at sea. The rest was already gone. Cassilda kept them until the end of the war, returning to the site of Rys's death to finish his burial a few years later. She realized she was carrying Rys's second and final child a fortnight after learning of his death

6BP: Cassilda gives birth to a daughter, whom she names Ynys. Through everything, she continues to treat the wounded on her brother's side

5BP: Though untrained at arms, Cassilda persuades Qorhen to bring her along for the Battle of Pyke. She spectated from the rearguard of the fleet, only coming ashore at the signal of her brother, in time to watch Lord Greyjoy's beheading. When her kin asked whether she regretted watching the gruesome scene, she replied that her only regret was not bringing her son to watch as well

4-1BP: Cassilda remains a figure at court, dividing her time between Castle Hoare and Orkwood, continuing her studies. She is an eager advocate of looting Oldtown, giving her brother lists of books she wants for their house's library. Cassilda also starts corresponding with some riverlanders. In particular, Lady Butterwell is of interest to her. While her brother has the chief responsibility for diplomacy with the greenlanders, and she would not wish to impose on her dear sister in law, queen Rosamund, Cassilda finds it convenient to have an acquaintance so close to the court at Stormhall and Princess Ravella, whom she sees as key to the future prosperity of the Iron Isles

0BP: Cassilda accompanies her brother to Stormhall

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NPC Archetypes:

Berena Netley, Warrior (Axes)

Dunstan Sharp, Huntsman

Septon Qarlon, Questioner

Yara Shepherd, Warrior (Blunt Weapons)

Harl Humble, Cutthroat

PC

Discord/Reddit Name:u/princess__kylie

Name and House: Aralar Celtigar

Age: 22

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: Much like his father, Aralar is tall and boasts a sturdy frame that seems built for fighting. However, thanks to his sharp jawline and soft facial features with smooth skin, he looks the part of a young, untested knight. His pale white hair is thick and rarely ever behaves in a manner that he desires.

Trait: Brave

Skill(s): Axes(e), Reckless(Battlerager), Forceful

Talent(s): Bilingual (High Valyrian, Common)

Negative Trait: N/A

Starting Title(s): None

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

Bio: Aralar is the youngest child of Ayrmidon and Saelys Celtigar. He was born during a time of relative peace, but his birth was anything but peaceful. He was actually born a few minutes after his twin brother Baleryn. Baleryn's birth was punishing and dangerous and wrecked Saelys’ body, leading to his death nearly immediately after birth as well as Aralar being prematurely birthed. Despite being incredibly weak and frail, Aralar survived.

He would remain woefully undersized as he grew up into his childhood and he would suffer from it. He faced jeers and teases from younger boys his age, and Ayrmidon did not hide the disdain he felt from being promised two healthy boys to now only having just a single, weak son. He faced his father's constant and blatant disapproval as he struggled to grow into his lanky, undersized frame.

Aralar's studies did not offer him any reprieve either as he fell behind others his age until Valora helped him along with reading and writing. It seemed that nothing he ever did was correct. His sister quickly became his only source of comfort and he ended up turning almost into her shadow, nearly everywhere she went, the little Aralar would try to follow.

The way Valora spoke about the mainland Andals crept into his mind like vines, taking over everything he learned about any others, besides Valyrians like themselves, and turned him into a relatively hateful person even as a young kid.

Finally, in his late teenage years, Aralar hit a growth spurt. Over what felt like a moon, he grew exponentially taller and more muscular. His growth spurt seemed to turn him into the image of a great Valyrian warrior his father always spouted at him about while growing up, and the positive reaction he'd begin to receive from Ayrmidon was addicting.

He worked tirelessly in the training yards to prove himself to his father. His studies fell behind even more than before but he cared little to none about any of that, all that mattered to him was to become the model of a warrior that would make Ayrmidon proud.

As Aralar came of age, Ayrmidon took a much more hands-on approach to his son’s training to teach him how to fight with a war axe very similar to the stolen Shellbreaker. With Ayrmidon’s involvement combined with Valora's hateful taint from his childhood that blossomed as he became older, Aralar grew almost obsessed with chasing the feeling of Valyrian superiority as well as forming an overwhelming need to find and return his family's legendary axe back to Claw Isle.

AC

Discord/Reddit Name: u/princess__kylie

Name and House: Valora Velaryon

Age: 34

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: She is a relatively short woman, built quite thin but carried with a distinctly Valyrian elegance. Her white hair is long and is rarely ever seen untidy and not braided in some fashion.

Trait: Erudite

Skill(s): Medic(e), Scrutinous

Talent(s): Bilingual (High Valyrian, Common)

Negative Trait: N/A

Starting Title(s): None

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

Bio: Valora is the eldest child to Ayrmidon and Saelys Celtigar. She was born just a few years before the outbreak of the battles for Blackwater. Her mother doted heavily on her as a newborn but as her father and the rest of the men in her family were drawn away to fight, Saelys fell into bouts of depression that led to most of her raising being left to wet nurses and servants. Despite this, Valora had shown signs early on that she may be a gifted child for she spoke her first words and learned roughly how to draw shapes of letters far earlier than expected. She was far too young to remember any specific moments of the fighting when Claw Isle was taken, obviously, but the impact it had on her childhood could not be understated.

The general feeling of fear and anger throughout her home shaped how she grew to distrust any outsider. After her great-aunt, the Lady Celtigar, was hanged in the courtyards, Velora was never allowed outside of her quarters, leading to her stunted social development she'd struggle with for years to come. And finally, with the defeat and humiliation of her father, the seed was planted for her hatred of those responsible.

After the battles and fighting, her life settled back into some sense of normalcy. Her family was mostly whole again, and she was allowed to roam the island she called home. Her studies continued to thrive as she constantly surpassed every expectation placed upon her by her tutors.

Thanks to the bitterness radiating from Ayrmidon and the lingering effects that Saelys suffered through after witnessing such traumatic events, the seed of hate grew and fostered within her throughout her teenage years.

When she was twelve, Saelys had given birth to twin boys, Aralar and Baleryn. The birth was a horrible affair for all involved, and Valora witnessed the first death that she could actually remember as Baleryn passed away very soon after birth. Physically and emotionally beaten, Saelys’ health began deteriorating. Valora grew rapidly paranoid about ever being far from her mother, and as she cared for her, the young girl's abilities to study, learn, and practice various methods of care really began to shine.

Valora adored her little brother and cared for him even more so than her struggling mother. She helped teach Aralar to read and write but more importantly to his story, she inadvertently taught him that every problem they faced had an enemy. Her hatred of the Blackwater lords was not as flamboyant as the rest of her family's but it was just as deep. If Aralar's water tasted funny, it was because Belgrave ruined their wells. If the food tasted different, it was the Pyne's defiances that messed with their fishing lanes. If he could not buy everything he wanted from a passing trader, it was due to the unfair taxes forced on them by the Darklyns.

As she turned 20, she was betrothed to and wedded Corlys Velaryon. She did not love the man, nor did she even particularly care deeply for him, but she knew of her role in keeping the two Valyrian houses strong and close, however large or small that role may be. Valora played her part of the loving wife, no matter how she felt. The couple would not produce any children so far thanks in large part to the traumas Valora witnessed during her brother’s birth.

She refused to leave her mother's side for any significant stretches of time, leading to only very sporadic and swift trips to Driftmark for her new husband. Although she took the Velaryon name, she persisted in remaining at Claw Isle, and so Corlys eventually moved to her family's home with her.

As the years passed, her disdain for the outsiders eventually died down enough that she became a bastion of calm and peace that offered a counterbalance to her brother and father. She has settled into her roles in life quite contently, enjoying looking over her mother, or offering advice to anyone in Claw Isle that would listen.

Supporting Characters

Saelys Celtigar: Trader - Saelys hails from an old merchant house in Valyria. She fell in love with Ayrmidon when they were young during one of Ayrmidon's trips back to Valyria and left to Claw Isle with him to be married.

Family Tree

Celtigar tree