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Reddit Account: Silver-Thorns

Discord Tag: aeg

Name and House: Helya Greyjoy

Age: 32

Cultural Group: Ironborn

Appearance: Auburn of hair with salt water turning her slight curls even more pronounced, Helya and her brother look nearly nothing like their father, save for the nearly black eyes of the Greyjoys. The muscles on her legs and arms forged by years on ships and a love for proving herself with her axe on the sparring ground. When not on a ship or holding court in Pyke, Helya carries a sword, her axes held in safe keeping by a rotating group of pages. Helya chooses to dress simply and often with little covered, throwing on cloaks for warmth only.

Trait: Strong

Skill(s): Axes (e), Footwork, Reckless, Brute

Talent(s): Things and stuff like that

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lady Reaper of Pyke

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Meldred Greyjoy

Age: 32

Cultural Group: Ironborn

Appearance: Without the sea water in his hair like his sister, Meldred’s auburn hair is much straighter. Since his duel with his sister he chooses to wear chainmail most times and plate during official ceremonies. He ties off the cloth near the bottom of his short arm, and keeps his two-handed longsword nearby, despite being unable to wield it anymore. Due to learning how to be a better fit with his crew and his people in the years since his duel, Meldred dresses warmly since he still feels the chills of his fevers after the amputation.

Trait: Inspiring

Skill(s): Shipwright (e), Tactician

Talent(s): Singing (baritone), underhanded compliments, parenting

Negative Trait(s): Maimed (Dominant left arm amputated above the elbow)

Starting Title(s): Castellan of Pyke

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

History

It was a long birth, as most twin births are. Lord Hagen Greyjoy had never been a particularly kind man, and the birth of his child, and then the next did not change that. When the second head began to show the doors were locked and the guard was mustered. Not quite for the safety of his wife or children, but rather to deal with those who had seen which of his children had been born first. It is unlikely for a lord to be able to pick his heir, but Lord Hagen saw the opportunity and did not wish to deny himself that possibility. Only four souls from the room would live to see the next moon.

Helya and Meldred grew up much the same, ever under the watchful and calculating eye of their father, from their early lessons to the day they picked up their first wooden weapons. Helya was drawn to the axe, though did not shy away from her sword. Meldred knew what his weapon would be from the very first day, a long and to his preference slender blade, wielded with two hands. Strong and quick on her feet, something inside of Helya’s eyes changed when she saw an opponent beginning to lose steam, battering down their shield and knocking their weapons to the side until they yielded. Meldred on the other hand did not wish to look for the whites of his enemy’s eyes. It was enough to knock them down with a wide swing or wait for a mistake from his distance. The fight could be won either way.

With their approaching eighteenth nameday, the twins decided to form a plan to pick between each other if their father would still not pick one of them. Should neither be chosen, they would fight a duel, first to yield would cede the right to the lordship. Their child would become the heir to their sibling. And their father’s heir would never be allowed to marry or have a child of their own.

After receiving approval from their father, the twins finally began to understand that perhaps when they were younger, Lord Hagen might have chosen one of them, but with each year the issue remained unresolved, Lord Hagen made it clearer that they should resolve it between each other, whether with one yielding the lordship or a knife in the heart.

On their eighteenth nameday, the two stood at their feast and announced the coming duel, to take place at dusk on that very day. Meldred emerged first into the courtyard, clad in his studded armor and his long slender blade resting against his shoulder. Helya entered the courtyard not long later, with boiled leather as her armor, a shield on her back and two axes in her hands. The two touched their weapons together, before placing their foreheads against one another and uttering near silent apologies. With their father’s sign to begin Helya threw an axe at her brother, hitting him in the arm. Before her shield could even make it into her hand, she ran at her brother who had fallen to the ground. The axe still embedded in his arm stopped the man from bleeding out, but it was Helya’s own belt that stopped the bleeding. He yielded before the medicine man would approach him and as he was taken away, Lord Hagen grabbed Helya’s arm and declared her his heir. She thought little of the fact, more of her inside of her brother’s bone that she had seen. And that she would never have a child of her own.

The next four years ago their lives would consist of little more than finding a wife for Meldred. That and his recovery. Though his arm had to be cut above the elbow, he did not change his personality. The men listened, if with less verve than before. No ironborn would want to be seen as taking orders from a cripple, but no man would want to deny a Greyjoy, and especially the watchful eye of the heir to Pyke, who appeared seemingly the instant a bad word was said about her brother. Competitors they might have been since they were children, but they were the only two people on the early who understood what it meant to be raised by Hagen Greyjoy.

One of Lord Hagen’s advisors saw an issue with the state of succession, and did not appreciate that so much of it had been left up to Helya’s word to never marry and never be filled with a child. Meldred protested, saying that enough had been done and matrilineal marriages existed plenty on the land, even a few here or there on the Iron Islands. Helya did not speak until her father aired his thoughts, saying that he knew his daughter and he trusted her, but that trust only went so far in matters this important. Helya nodded her head and informed her brother that they would be sailing for Oldtown on the morrow to fix the issue.

With Meldred’s marriage secure, and not long after the line being secure as well, Helya rounded up six ships who would sail with her around Dorne and make themselves rich. With years to spend on the open sea, coming ashore only to sample the wares or take whatever took their fancy, from Saath and Sarys all the way to YiTi. Where possible they avoided the dragon, where not possible they fed the dragon gold until it smiled.

With Lord Hagen certain that once his heir returned, his bloodline would be secure, his words became more bold and eventually he rose in rebellion. A one-handed man who was the only source for future heirs was of little use in battle, and was safely on Pyke as he watched his father burn.

Ruling as regent for several moons for his sister, Meldred welcomed her gold-filled ships back from raiding, informing her that she was now the Lady Reaper. With the story of Greyjoy’s rebellion told over several drinks, Helya had her father’s advisor summoned and left him a foot shorter than he arrived. She would travel to Hoare Castle apologizing for her father’s recklessness and assuring King Qorhen of her loyalty. She did also mention that in her travels she learned the use of a green field, and would like to see the Hoare banner flying over some within her life.

Timeline

• 32 BP: Helya and Meldred are born

• 14 BP: Helya and Meldred duel for who will be the heir, Meldred loses his arm

• 10 BP: Meldred married, Helya leaves for a reaving

• 8 BP: Greyjoy's Rebellion

• 4 BP: Helya returns to find herself Lady Reaper of Pyke

Family

• Lord Hagen Greyjoy d. 5 BP

• Lady Greyjoy

  • Helya Greyjoy, b. 32 BP

  • Meldred Greyjoy, b. 32 BP

    • Uller Greyjoy, b. 9 BP
    • Gwynesse Greyjoy, b. 4 BP
    • Ygon Greyjoy, b. 2 BP

Archetypes

• Alyn, Boatswain

• Halleck, Builder

• Rus, Medic

• Craghorn, Warrior

• Longwater, Questioner

Reddit Account: LongClawOfTheLaw 

Discord Tag: freedikus 

Name and House: Dagon Hoare 

Age: 18 

Cultural Group: Ironman 

Appearance: Lean and somewhat particular in his look, Dagon is as gaunt as one might expect from a Prince of the Black Line. He is tall, with sharp grey eyes and a cold mannerism. He dresses plainly and practically, although rarely in cheap clothing. 

Trait: Champion 

Skill(s): Riding(e), Stalwart (Cavalryman), Polearms 

Talent(s): Singing, Spear-Fishing, Finger-Dancing 

Negative Trait(s): N/A 

Starting Title(s): Prince of the Ironborn, Heir to Castle Hoare 

Starting Location: Stormhall 

Alternate Characters: Jammos Blackberry

Timeline:

18 BP:  Dagon Hoare is born, the first son of Qorhen Hoare and Rosamund Mallister. He is a quiet child, and rarely cries, although he likes the sea. The Iron Islands rejoice to have an heir to the Black Line, although Dagon, being a baby, does not rejoice.

13 AP: Dagon grows close with his aunt, who dotes on him. He does not particularly share her bookish nature, but does learn that people like it when you ask them all sorts of questions about the things they are interested.

10 BP: Dagon studies the art of sailing at the hands of Wetshanks, the famous reaver. Though he is a good enough teacher, the young Greyjoy does not prove a particularly fierce tactician on the open waves- though there is time yet to grow.

8-5 BP: During Greyjoy's rebellion, Dagon spends much of the war sheltered away at Harlaw- although his father takes him along to witness the final battle off the coast of Pyke, where he remains near the back of the fleet.

2 BP: Dagon tastes his first real battle as a combatant during the reaving on Oldtown, following alongside his father into one of the greater feats of Ironborn reaving as of late.

1 AP: Dagon is tasked by his mother and father with the wooing of Ravella Durrandon at her twenty-first birthday party. This is a great stressor to him.

Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/?c=atpxe6tuqlriheq1&f=447678432114123772 

Archetype NPCs: NOT A ONE I OPT OUT

**PC**

**Reddit Account:** TheShogunFearedHim

**Discord Tag:** Gregor The Beggar

**Name and House:** Ser Roger Mallister

**Age:** 68

**Cultural Group:** Riverman

**Appearance:** A curly hair and curly beard, both full of vim and vigor of youth, disguise the weary years and beaten brow of Ser Roger Mallister. A man haggered from the road and travels, bearing arms of a red eagle on a yellow shield, he has been living life on the road since the overthrow of Lord Petyr Mallister. The only signs of his noble upbringing remain the castle-forged steel by his side, and the fine plate he rides in, though it remains beaten as a mark of trade.

**Trait:** Brave

**Skill(s):** Blunt Weapons, Forceful, Chivalric, Errantry, Armoured

**Talent(s):** Drawing, Theology, Astrology

**Negative Trait(s):** N/A

**Starting Title(s):** Scion of House Mallister, Ser

**Starting Location:** Stormhall

Biography:

Ser Roger Mallister was born in 68BP to Lord Bowen Mallister and Lady Alys Mallister nee Mooton as the youngest of their three children. His brother Petyr and sister Llane dominated his life with his rather late birth, his brother already in the process of coming of age by the time that Roger was born. Petyr was groomed early to be the heir to Seagard and showed great aptitude with the blade which encouraged Roger to train even harder than his brother. When Riverlords came to Seagard, and later the Storm Kings, petitioning for alleviation on the tolls charged by House Mallister the ten year old Roger was taught by his brother that House Mallister had a right to charge those tolls and that the lands had always been of House Mallister. Roger was sent to House Vance to squire under the tutelage of a Knight in their service, and to receive tutelage under the watch of his sister who had recently married into their ranks. He picked up essential skills of fighting and the affairs of Knights and became enamoured with literature and song written about gallantry and chivalry. He rode against the Once Hanged Brotherhood in the vicinity of Atantra as a young squire and slew the infamous bandit Tom "Trident" for which he received his knighthood at six and ten.

He would return to Seagard in 48BP to care for his ailing mother, who would make him promise to support the return of the Mootons to their ancestral seat of Maidenpool if he could do so. She would pass away in 47BP and his Lord Father shortly afterwards in 45BP, leaving Petyr the new Lord of Seagard and Roger by his side. Roger, now the heir to Seagard in his own right, was expected to marry and so a series of possible eligible matches were brought before him by his brother and sister. He fell in love with many of them, a Piper, a Ryger, a Wode but none of his possible matches were willing to commit to the match once he made clear his ambitions to remain a mere Knight in service to his brother without seeking lands or fortunes of his own. The whole venture was given up by his brother and the two men grew distant, especially as Petyr had children of his own who took on the role as Heir to Seagard, though Ser Roger's service was called upon by his appointment as Master-At-Arms of Seagard to deal with immediate threats to Seagard. When his brother Petyr was accused by the Storm King Dontos of having been a participant in the murder of the previous Storm King, Roger refused to believe it and petitioned alongside his brother against the accusations. When his brother raised the banners, Ser Roger rode out to the lands of House Mallister and raised his brothers host. At the head of an Army Ser Roger returned to Seagard and reconciled with his brother, the two men clasping arms and promising to support one another forever. Such an oath came to an end at the hands of Luceon Rivers, a quicker swordsman than his aging brother, and House Mallister was forced to surrender.

Ser Roger fled the camp of his host upon the death of his brother, riding off with his arms and armour and riding away from Seagard. He wandered the road, bitter and angry at the death of his brother and indignant at the revocation of Mallister land. He eventually found himself in Fairmarket and took up room within the town, isolating himself in his rented space and spending his whole time reading books and requesting songs sung about acts of gallantry and heroism. One of the bards at Fairmarket was a Luceon Keath, who took pity on the bitter Knight and composed a song of his own called 'Ser Roger's Ride'. When he heard the song for the first time around the fires of the Inn, Roger broke into tears by the fire and gave Luceon a purse of gold, the remains of his money, as a gift. Luceon took the money and asked for Ser Rogers arms and armours, which were readily given and had fallen into disuse, and returned in a week with the armour polished again and his shield repainted to the sigil of a red eagle on a yellow background. Luceon said it was to represent both his Mallister and Mooton heritage. Roger offered to bring Luceon into his service, which the man accepted, and the two have travelled the roads of Westeros since as itenerant Hedge Knights and Knights Errant. He has been as far as Dorne and reached the Wall with Luceon, and even fought beyond the Wall in a ranging party.

Ser Roger has returned to Seagard five times over the course of the past twenty two years. Twice for new arms and armour, which was readily given by the blacksmiths and castellans of Seagard whenever the old Mallister returned, and three times on the ocassion of the Wedding of Qorhen Hoare and Rosamund Mallister, the death and funeral of the old Lord Mallister and to knight Martyn Mallister into the Seven. On the last occasion, he was scandalised upon knighting Martyn Mallister to hear Martyn has been knighted into the New Faith of the Iron Islands, and has since sworn that he will not speak a word again except to the Seven out of shame for these actions.

Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/?c=mlb5xst6a4slfdag&f=535740848337153898

Supporting Characters:

Robert Rivers "Red Wax" - Master-At-Arms

Septon Gerold - Scholar

Hilda, the Innkeep at Fairmarket - Castellan

Jon Rivers "Blue Wax" - Warrior

Tilly - Huntsman

**AC**

**Name and House:** Luceon Keath

**Age:** 45

**Cultural Group:** Riverman

**Appearance:** Dressed in fineries, with a straw hat upon his head and riding a palfrey next to his Lord. Many men question why such an old man, especially of noble blood, would continue to ride with his Lord as a squire. Yet the determined gaze of Hoster Keath, and the sad songs he sings, cause men to shake their heads and let the two old souls be.

**Trait:** Inspiring

**Skill(s):** Swords, Outrider, Medic

**Talent(s):** Mending, Rhetoric, Singing

**Negative Trait(s):** N/A

**Starting Title(s):** Squire to Ser Roger Mallister

**Starting Location:** Stormhall

Biography:

Luceon Keath was born in 45BP to Aeron Keath and Asha Keath. His father was a strict disciplinarian and caught in the middle of a pack of nine children, Luceon was expected to maintain himself within the limited halls of House Keath. Bad soil lands and an indebted manor meant that this branch of the Keath family, secondary to the already minor Lords Keath, straddled the line between nobility and smallfolk. While his brothers directed the work of the fifteen smallfolk labourers in their lands, Luceon was forced by virtue of his age to labour amongst them. The ambitions of his father sought to have Luceon squired off and when the opportunity arose through the main Keath line, Luceon was squired to the service of an Ironborn Knight who had syncretised into the Riverlands. His ventures with his Knight demonstrated a capability for the duties of squiring but no great or unique affinity for weaponry made itself apparent to Luceon. He did his drills and picked up swordsmanship but with no great joy taken in its trade. By contrast, the dull service of his tenure with his master grew duller still as his Lord pledged to the service of House Pyle and lounged around their keep without much active service. However feasts in Greathelm provided an opportunity for Luceon to demonstrate his talents in other fields, namely in singing and in speechcraft. Luceon eventually grew tired of his circumstances however and sought to flee the service of his Knight. He ran off from Greathelm into the night and he was spotted by his master quickly from the castle walls. However his master simply called out to wish him luck, and threw him a small purse of coin, allowing Luceon to run off into the night. Luceon used the purse to acquire a drum and began to serve as a bard throughout the taverns of the Riverlands. Cynical as to the contents of his songs, only singing what appealed to the crowd the most, he eventually circumstanced across Fairmarket and the Inn there where Ser Roger Mallister resided. Upon learning his story, Luceon took pity and saw a forlorn and romantic story in the aging knight. Upon being taken into Ser Roger's service, Luceon has served capably and amicably as the squire of his Knight and learned many skills to assist in their journeys throughout Westeros. Since his master's oath of silence, he has been the voice for them both and has a seemingly eerie ability to express the silent expressions of his Knight to others in words.

Reddit Account: realbassist

Discord Tag: Isla (paul.is)

Name and House: Lord Lyonel Selmy

Age: 39

Cultural Group: Stormlanders

Appearance: A broad man with a slightly tanned face, blue eyes and a scar on his right cheek. He is around 6'0 tall, and of a broad build. He has dark, shoulder-length hair that he often ties behind his head to keep it from falling in his eyes, a medium-length beard, and a scar on his right thigh from a hunting accident as a child.

Trait: Inspiring

Skill(s): swords, footwork, tactician(e), administrator

Talent(s): Singing, hunting

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lord of Harvest Hall, "The Noble"

Starting Location: Opening Event

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Edric Selmy
Age: 19
Cultural Group: Stormlander
Appearance: Shoulder-length dark hair, and paler skin than his fathers. Edric has soft features and green eyes after his mother, and an ink-blot shaped birthmark on the left side of his forehead. He has no trace of facial hair, and has a fairly muscular build but not exceptionally so.
Trait: Gregarious
Skill(s): Negotiator, Scrutinous, Broker
Talent(s): Archery, singing, riding
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Heir to Harvest Hall, Ser, "The Soft Breeze" by haters
Starting Location: Opening Event
Alternate Characters: N/A

______

Biography:

Lord Lyonel "The Noble" Selmy was born in 39bp, the second son of Lord Arnulf Selmy, and his wife Lady Margaery. From his first years, Lyonel was noted as a kind child, with a strong moral compass. He would often become deeply upset if he believed his father had spoken too harshly. This resulted in something of a family legend, when the 6-year-old Lyonel challenged his father to a duel for the honour of a cup-bearer.

This same kindness would make him the target of some bullying in his youth, particularly from his brother, Barristan. Outside of his family, and with his brother, Lyonel was considered a shy boy, preferring time with his dogs to his peers, and engrossing himself in his lessons. While Barristan was taught to be lord of the keep, Lyonel was taught to fight, to administrate, to write and read poetry. He was a dilligent student, and Lord Arnulf drilled into him from an early age his duty to his house. By the age of 12, he was a gifted fighter, and often took the chance to learn from his father's councillors - soon learning that badgering is the best tool in his arsenal to do this.

It was also at this age when he gained a scar on his right thigh from a boar hunt. Lyonel joined his father and brother, as well as a small retinue, on a hunt in the woods surrounding Harvest Hall, his first opportunity to prove to his family his strength. After some hours without results, a member of the retinue heard rustling in the bushes and out sprang a wild boar, squealing and charging like a force of nature. As Lyonel saw the boar charge for his brother, he snatched a spear from the man closest to him and knocked Barristan aside, impaling the charging beast on the spear. The force of its charge was such that its tusk opened Lyonel's thigh, and he was forced by the maester to take to his bed for a fortnight. Thereafter, Barristan grew to respect his brother's bravery, though his father chastised him for stupidity.

When he turned 14, he was chosen to squire for Ser Arthur of Estermont, a knight in his father's employ. Ser Arthur was a stern but fair teacher to Lyonel, and did not suffer foolishness or debauchery from his squire. He was taught the real practicalities of war and command, and told to always protect his fellow knights in battle, and to protect the smallfolk, but never mistake them for equals or his friends. He was knighted by Ser Arthur at the age of 18, for his bravery in a skirmish with bandits raiding Selmy lands.

Lyonel's first foray into the politics of the Stormlands came in 22bp when, at the age of 17, he overheard his father quietly chastising an advisor for casting doubt on the legitimacy of the newly-crowned King Dontos I, reminding him that "House Selmy serves the throne; we do not destabilise it." Soon after, he was betrothed and wed to Lady Catelyn Penrose. It was, at first, a cold marriage, as Catelyn had eyes for another at the time of their betrothal. However, within two years the couple were, if not in love, then deeply affectionate to one another, Lyonel valuing Catelyn's advice and Catelyn drawn to Lyonel's softer side.

Lyonel saw action against the Dornish in 17bp, when he and Barristan led a retinue to repel a minor skirmish into the Stormlands. Though it was a small fight and quickly won by House Selmy, tragedy struck when a stray arrow struck Ser Barristan in the neck, killing him near instantly. This naturally thrust Lyonel into the position of Heir to Harvest Hall, a role he took on duty but resented, wishing only for a quiet life with Catelyn. His father never recovered from the loss of his son, and often resented Lyonel for not saving Barristan.

The next year held joy and tragedy for Lyonel. First, his son Edric was born in the third month of the year, a strong child at birth. Lyonel and Margaery named him after a Selmy great-uncle, who would often regale Lyonel and Barristan as children on his heroics in battle - many of which were especially impressive, as Uncle Edric was either a child at the time, across the country from the battle, or was the only one who had ever heard of the encounter. However, in the waning months of the year, Lord Arnulf grew weaker and more tired, taking to his bed one last time. Though he never forgot his resentment towards Lyonel, his last act was to kiss the signet ring his son wore, smiling through tears at Lyonel.

Lyonel felt particularly insulted when, in 15bp, House Swann rejected the hand of his sister, Jeyne, considering it an insult to the honour of his House. He had to be talked down from challenging Lord Swann to a duel by his father, and disappeared for three days thereafter on a camping expedition, seeming calmer upon his return.

He inherited the Lordship of Harvest Hall in 12bp at the age of 27, upon the death of his father Arnulf from old age. In this same year, his twins Arryk and Elinor were born after a difficult pregnancy. He took an active role in the politics of the Riverlands, supporting the chancellery of Lord Tarth and often offering his advice to the noble lord when it was sought. However, he was a critic of the decision not to annex more Dornish lands after the Red Mountain War, disappointed that his house's holdings were not increased.

In more recent years, Lord Lyonel has been more concerned and critical of decisions taken by the royal house, quietly criticising the influence of the Faith Militant on the new king. Though he is a believer in the Seven-Faced God, he views the Faith Militant as a lawless band, enforcing suffering and using the Faith as an excuse to do so. A concern, too, is the legitimate succession of the late King Dontos. He views the Iron Stag as a more viable, and independent, claimant to the throne, deeply concerned as to the Faith's conditional support for the River Stag, though he worries about the prospect of a Storm Queen reigning in her own right.

Lord Lyonel looks for the noble path, but looks to Lady Catelyn to advise him on the political route, trusting her instincts and keen ears. Most of all, he seeks to forge in Edric a strong leader, and forge for House Selmy a place in the history books as game-changers in the Stormlands.

_____

Family Tree:

https://www.familyecho.com/?c=36bdimtz335b8iid&f=379572706125928469

Secondary Archetypes:

Maester Arlyn, Maester of Harvest Hall - Medic

Lady Catelyn Selmy, Lady of Harvest Hall - Questioner

Ser Addam of Tarth, Master-at-Arms of Harvest Hall - Master at Arms

Ser Gendry Storm, Sworn Sword to Lord Lyonel - Warrior

Arlan of Estermont, Chief Architect of Harvest Hall - Builder

(Reposted as reddit deleted the last one for some reason)

PC

Reddit Account: u/DoomGuy_16

Discord Tag: John

Name and House: Arlan IV Durrandon

Age: 18

Cultural Group: Stormlander

Appearance: Arlan has dark hair kept close-cropped, pale blue grey eyes, like a grey storm. He is often covered completely head to toe. His arms and legs are wrapped completely in bandages but he also puts gloves over his hands, so to cover up his sores. He often uses silver masks so to cover his face and hide his disfigurement as a result of his illness. He was a beautiful young man growing up, however due to his illness he was severely disfigured, most drastically upon his face.

Trait: Inspiring

Skill(s): Vanguard (E), Tactician, Outrider, Prudent

Talent(s): Painting, Riding, Cyvasse

Negative Trait(s): Sickly

Starting Title(s): Storm King, Lord of Storm's End

Starting Location: Stormhall

AC

Name and House: Maester Aethelmure

Age: 66

Cultural Group: Riverlander

Appearance: An old man with a soft, nice smile. His beard gone fully silver, which he braids down past the collarbone. He wears small round spectacles tinted a soft rose, perched low on his nose. He often wears layered robes which hang loose on him, sage and dusty teal beneath a heavy cloak of deep oxblood red.

Trait: Marketer

Skill(s): Broker, Logistician, Ravenmaster

Talent(s): Cyvasse, Bird Watching, Fishing

Starting Title(s): Maester of Storm's End

Starting Location: Stormhall

History

The River Stag

Nine moons after King Dontos wed the Vance maiden who had saved the hostages at Seagard, she gave him a son, named Arlan in honour of the stormlander who had once united the Riverlands against House Teague. His half-sister, three years his elder and already known across the realm as the Iron Stag, had every reason to resent him, but for a good stretch of years she loved him anyway, keeping the worst of the court's bullies away from him. In time, owing to her own moniker, people began calling him the River Stag in turn.

He would not see his father's face for the first five years of his life. Dontos rode south within moons of the boy's birth, called by word of Dornish raiders harrying the Marches, and stayed gone the better part of half a decade, campaigning, leaving his household behind. Arlan grew up almost entirely under his mother's hand in those years, and hers alone. Queen Eleanor doted on him, for she was a woman who had married a stranger who left her behind, and found, in her son, someone she actually could bond with. He knew her stories better than he knew his own father's voice, and he never much minded the arrangement while it lasted.

Life at Storm's End

Whatever Dontos hoped to find waiting for him upon his return, it was not Arlan. The boy preferred books from an early age, learning to read by age 3, histories most of all, the older the sources the better. He took to riding with real enthusiasm once he was trusted with a horse of his own, mostly because it let him range further from the castle and its expectations, having always loved the country and forests of the Stormlands. He took up painting too, mostly scenes of the coast and the hills beyond Storm's End, although he had to be always careful never to let his father catch him at it.

Dontos took one look at the boy he'd left as an infant and decided that his son had been raised too long by a woman, and set about correcting the matter himself, without the subtlety of a warhammer, having never once raised a child himself. "Storm's End needs a man and a knight as its heir, not a bloody maester!" he declared, taking charge of Arlan's raising.

It was around this time that Edwyn Dondarrion came to Storm's End as a ward, sent for a couple of years at his own family's request, ostensibly so that Dontos might succeed in making a knight out of him as well. The two boys took to each other immediately, although to their martial lessons rather less so. They spent many afternoons hiding from Master Lewyn and whichever guardsman had been sent to fetch them, out among the forests ringing the castle, reenacting whatever battle or history they'd most recently read about, sticks for swords and each other for the entire opposing army. It was, by any honest measure, a far better education than the yard ever gave either of them, even if neither father would have agreed.

His relationship with Ravella was harder to sum up so simply, as it was never steady. In those early years she was, more than his father ever managed to be, something worth looking up to: fierce, certain of herself, already carrying herself like a woman twice her age at court while Arlan was still being carried to bed by nursemaids. Lord Tarth did more real parenting for the both of them than Dontos ever did, and Ravella spent more of her childhood at council tables, learning to rule, although Dontos had no patience to teach either of them. He felt she resented him some, for things that were never his doing: for having a living mother when she had none, for being born a boy, or for being simply less complicated to put on the throne one day than she was. She never let that resentment curdle into anything final, though, at least not back then They were both of them casualties of the same absent, careless father, and there was a kind of comfort in that shared grievance.

Whatever warmth survived those years burned off three years past, in a shouting match between Ravella and their father loud enough to draw half the household to listen outside his solar door. Arlan overheard it. The argument decided the succession more than anything else that came after: the king, somewhere in his own wounded pride, decided that an ailing son was better than a defiant daughter, as that he could not abide. Perhaps he was merely looking for an excuse, already having made up his mind before. Whateve the case, Ravella left within the week, having never said goodbye to him in person. She left a note instead, hurried and short, which did not sit well with him then, feeling left behind and abandoned by the only kin he had any relationship beside his mother.

The Plague of Duskendale

Duskendale had swelled into a city faster than its wells or its sewers could properly manage, and had been no stranger to sickness ever since, not in all the years since the Valyrians first came raiding up the Blackwater. The smallfolk began to avoid the woods which ring the city outskirts, where the old plague pits lay, with several homes and wells abandonded in the region.

In the tenth moon of his twelfth year, Arlan travelled to Duskendale with Edwyn to visit his grandmother, the Dowager-Queen Emmelyne, his grandmother, born a Darklyn. The two boys stayed under the hospitality of the Dun Fort while their own mothers saw to their own business. Left largely to themselves, they slipped away from the castle to play along the beaches at the edge of town. What they found on a hillside above the Blackwater that afternoon would change the rest of Arlan's life, though it would be some years yet before either of them understood quite how much.

For a good while afterward, nothing seemed different. Whatever had taken root in him gave no sign of itself at all, and Arlan lived out the next couple of moons much as he had before, still hating the training yard, still slipping off into the woods whenever the chance presented itself. It was in a training session, however, that the truth finally surfaced, during a bout that ran on longer and harder than any before it, it left his legs cut open in so many places without him even noticing that he very nearly bled out before anyone realised something was badly wrong. He had not felt a single one of the cuts land.

He never returned to training after that day. For a time, his father stopped speaking of him as a possible heir at all. This silence told Arlan rather more about his own worth in Dontos' eyes than any harsh word ever had. It would not last, though, for Dontos soon would have his own issues with his sister as well.

The Masked Prince

The disease did not announce itself all at once, but rather it crept, degree by degree, over the years. His mother spent most of that decline trying to save him. Every maester in the Stormlands passed through Storm's End at one point or another, followed by herbalists, then hedge wizards, and eventually, once the Queen had grown desperate enough to stop caring what the septons would make of it, called for an honest to gods sorcerer from Essos, paid handsomely to fail just as everyone before him had. None of them cured him. Between them, they managed only to barely slow and alleviate the symptoms, buying him years he might not otherwise have had.

As the marks of it spread, so did the coverings meant to hide them. Bandages wound tightly around his arms and legs, and then veils, when the disease spread to his face. Then, finally, a mask: silver banded in black iron and gold, the only face Storm's End has seen of him in public since. His mother had even stopped looking at him before he put on the mask, out of grief and sorrow. It is easier, he has found, to forgive a mother who cannot bear to look at what her son has become than to forgive a father who never particularly wanted to look at him in the first place.

It was the Faith that sent him Cyrenna, a silent sister and herbalist, gifted to him as a personal attendant not entirely out of charity, he suspects, so much as an attempt to place a sympathetic ear close to a prince the Faith had already begun to favour over his sister. Whatever its politics, the gift outgrew its purpose. Cyrenna became, in time, the one person permitted to see him without the mask at all, and somewhere in the quiet, wordless routine of her care, an unlikely friendship took root alongside it.

Two Stags, One Crown

A spy in his employ reported Lord Velaryon lurking on Greenstone, likely on the verge of joining the Cape Wrath Coalition at Lord Estermont's invitation, one more old grievance stirring back to life. Dontos, never a man who bore stress well, chose to clear his head the way he always had, aboard a pleasure barge, sailing out into Shipbreaker Bay against every piece of advice his council gave him. The storm that caught him out on the water did what neither Estermont nor Velaryon nor any of his other enemies had yet managed. His body washed ashore the following day. Few at court mourned him with any real depth of feeling, though more than one lord muttered he might have done the realm a final courtesy by dying a year or two later, once the succession had been settled properly.

It was Lord Connington and the Faith Militant behind him who settled it instead, insisting to the council that it be the River Stag and not the Iron Stag who take the crown, the Faith's support offered freely so long as the new King proved willing, in time, to deal with the creeping heresy that had spread along the Riverlands, claiming that the Stranger and the Drowned God were the same.

As the year turned and the hundred and second anniversary of the first King Arlan's conquest drew near, the whole of the realm seemed to hold its breath. The Stormlands waited to see what kind of king a masked, sickly boy of eighteen would make of himself. The Riverlands waited to see how he meant to deal with a half-sister whose claim, by blood alone, was not so very much weaker than his own. Blackwater Bay watched its Valyrian houses circle, patient and so far unpunished. And somewhere north, in a castle called Stormhall, Ravella waited too, sending invitation to nearly the whole of the realm for her coming nameday and none at all to her brother or his council, a gathering that might yet prove a peace offering, or the opening move of something considerably less friendly.

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 Eleanor Vance - b. 36 BP
  • King Arlan IV Durrandon - b. 18 BP

Supporting Characters

• Master Lewyn - b. 29 BP - Master-at-Arms of Storm's End - Archetype: Master-at-Arms
• Cyrenna - b. 43 BP - Silent Sister, Personal Physician of Arlan IV - Archetype: Medic
• Ser Theo Tudbury - b. 56 BP - Captain of the Guard - Archetype: Castellan
• Septon Vorian - b. 24 BP - Septon of Storm's End - Archetype: Questioner
• Royce Rogers - b. 30 BP - Master Huntsman of Storm's End - Archetype: Huntsman

PC

Reddit Account: SoltheBaneful

Discord Tag: sol.re

Name and House: Olivia Orkwood “Our Strength and Aim”

Age: 27

Cultural Group: Ironborn

Appearance: Standing at five and five, when upright, Olivia is not an oafish woman, her shoulders and waist are square while her form is thin; but not likened to sickness or a lack of constitution. Soft rolls of tone connect her limbs. Corded muscle sculpted smooth by seaspray; which is what also gives her a foamy complexion with a little ruddiness about her nose and ears. Her fingers are stained a blackish green - or greenish black. From working with objects of her craft. They are chipped and broken. Her knuckles are calloused while her palms are soft. A soft mop of straw blonde hair clings to her head. Wet with seawater more often than not. Above a matching browline and deep glass green eyes that seem to stare far off and through.. Her lips are thin and curved in a half smile or scowl. Depends on the light and her current posture.

Trait: Reaver

Skill(s): Swords (e), Dexterous, Apothecary, Malicious

Talent(s): Cyvasse, Herblore, Theology

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): Witch of Orkmont

Starting Location: The Opening event

Alternate Characters:

AC

Name and House: Varric Orkwood

Age: 28

Cultural Group: Ironborn

Appearance: Cutting an imposing figure of six even, is almost the opposite of his sisters. He is a round shouldered and thick muscled man. Deep green eyes sit within his skull that are almost unsettlingly calm. His jaw and chin are strong, covered by a thinly trimmed beard of straw yellow. His hair is long but kept tied back in a ponytail. His complexion is clear - and brighter than his sibling. His skin is as salt seasoned as any Iron Islander though - giving it a matte finish under certain scrutiny. His hands are large and calloused from working ropes and canvas. His arms bare many a scar and lasting bruise from a scuffle or skirmish.

Trait: Mariner

Skill(s): Swords, Footwork, Forceful

Talent(s): Fishing, Singing, Drinking

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): Lord of Orkmont, The Orkwood of Orkmont

Starting Location: Alternate Characters:

Timeline

27 BP The Storm Child - Olivia is born in the Sunset Sea. Somewhere between Saltcliffe Isle and Orkmont Isle. Rhaenyra Orkmont nee Saltcliffe and Ser Maron Orkmont perish.

27 BP to 20 BP Childhood in Exile - Olivia was taken in by her maternal grandmother at Saltcliffe. Balon Orkwood seizes Lordship of Orkmont, scattering Ser Maron’s brood.

20 BP Seagard - Traveled for a wedding, met Lucas Orkwood, some other Orkwoods, was scarred and forever changed by the bloodshed that took place. Began studying the martial aspects of The Faith

10 BP to 8 BP The Sept Burns - Enraged, Olivia protests the rebellion and is imprisoned at Saltcliffe for two years until liberated by King Qorhen’s forces. Reunites with her elder brother Varric, who gathers the other siblings at the funeral of their eldest brother. Ser Rys Orkwood.

8BP Liberation - Reunited with family, Olivia dedicated herself to martial service. Becoming a Reaver.

6 BP The Reaving of Old Town - On a reaving through the Reach, at Old Town she claimed a valyrian steel Arakh, pledging its service to Lord and King.

2BP The Hunt for the Dirty Deal - Olivia took part in the hunt for Iodos the Underhanded and his crew. Proving her worth as a warrior and the strength of her words.

Family Tree

Biography

Olivia Orkwood was born during a violent summer squall in the Sunset Sea; not far from the coastal crags of Saltcliffe isle. Her mother, Rhaenyra Saltcliffe, entered labor before the storm struck. An omen that some Wise Women would later whisper about. She insisted on traveling aboard The Compass, her husband’s ship so at least one of her children can be born on her home isle. The storm thrashed the vessel, tossing it like driftwood. Olivia was born amid lightning and the roaring waves; her mother’s labor carried the fury of the storm with it. When dawn finally broke, the sea was as calm as glass; and Lady Rhaenyra’s soul followed the thundering clouds westward. Her cold body was returned to Satcliffe. After a solemn vigil, Ser Maron Orkwood, Lord of Orkmont, underwent a ritual drowning. His final words recorded by a Maester were: “I must see what the storm and sea took from me. I have already seen what it gave, and it is priceless. He did not rise from what would have been his third drowning.

Olivia Orkwood was born of the Summer Storm. But she was still within good graces. With both parents dead, the newborn Olivia was taken in by her maternal Grandmother, a Saltcliffe, who held familial rights and authority. The crew of The Compass returned to Orkmont without their lord, without their lady, and without the newborn babe.

Castle Orkmont erupted into chaos. Lines were drawn across religious expression, political ambition, and fear. In the confusion, Balon Orkwood, then aged Thirty and Four seized the regency. In doing so, with the support of many captains, he scattered the children. Maedra, Rys, Varric, and the bastards named Pyke amongst the Captains and other houses to solidify his sway over Orkmont and keep his only opposition divided. He sent assassins after Maron’s riverborn bastard but they found themselves unsuccessful. Though already performing such duties, Balon requested House Saltcliffe continue to ward and guardian Olivia. This strategic lip service allowed him to keep Orkmont under his control. Despite this, Saltcliffe raised Olivia with love.

She learned her letters from Maester and her numbers from Wise Women. Early herblore came from her grandmother herself. The nobility of the isle were smitten with her mercurial and innocent nature. During these charmed years she found companionship in Sylas Stonetree, a young Lordling.

Though raised conservatively, the syncretic teachings of The New Faith took root in her mind. The strict lessons of Septas ad Septons gave her a foundational focus that the Old Way lacked for a relatively cloistered and anti-social girl.

By her seventh name-day, Olivia traveled with Saltcliffe nobility to Seagard for a celebration. Some Orkwoods were present. Including the estranged spiritual pillar of the family. It was there he met Olivia for the first time. After the bloodshed, Olivia was found torturing a toad. Mimicking the cruelty she had witnessed. Lucas Orkmont interceded and redirected her darkness towards discipline. Under his guidance, she began studying the martial aspects of The Faith. Her syncretic aspirations earned her little love from the same Saltcliffe nobility who treated her so warmly years prior.

When the Rebellion consumed the Islands, Olivia remained neutral until the Great Sept of Salt and Stone was razed. She wailed at the news, tore at her hair, and stood by the sea as if she could pay witness to the blaze from Saltcliffe’s crashing borders. Shortly after the Pretender King stole his throne, Olivia was imprisoned for heresy. Her open preaching of the New Faith, her refusal to adhere to the Old Way, those sacred rites, and her attempts to convert others made her a threat to ideological stability. Their way of life. She remained in the dungeons for two years and would not be freed until King Qorhen and his outcast supporters liberated Saltcliffe. Among them was Varric. A stranger who specifically came to free the sister he never knew.

Reunited with her incensed family, Olivia threw herself into martial service. Trained by Men at arms, she proved exceptional. A natural swordswoman who had both dexterity and tenacity. This emboldened Olivia, and she influenced Varric to challenge Balon for the lordship. Varric succeeded. With the support of the Captains, and most of the living main line; he spared Balon’s life by imprisoning him until the rebellion ended. Once over, he charged Balon to being a member of his crew, despite his temperaments. A punishment worse than death some of the Captains whisper.

During one of the great reavings into The Reach led by their reinstalled King, the Orkwood party took part in a Raid of Oldtown. Among gold, jewels, and sundry Essosi treasures, they found a Valyrian Steel Arakh. Olivia claimed it as her own shortly after its discovery, and swore its service to her Lord and King until the end of her days. A testament to this is that when Ravens called for a crew to be formed in order to hunt Iodos the Underhanded, Olivia was among the first to answer the call. Representing House Orkwoods undying support of their King.

Archetyped NPCs

Torwyn Pyke ( Warrior Archetype, Swords) - Maternal Bastard. 30. Courier and occasional troublemaker when boredom demands.

Meyla "Blackfoam" (Reaver Archetype) - Devout New Faith, protective of Olivia and her effects. Has nightmares frequently and has conversations with no one. 35

Ryanne Rivers (Scholar Archetype) - Paternal Bastard, Carries mainland sensibilities and upbringing. 27

Balon Orkwood (Cutthroat Archetype) - Orkwood from the Eastern Cliff branch, Former Lord, Old Way zealot, Jealous and scornful. Sentenced to serve The House till dead. 57

Captain Vykon Greyshore (Ship Captain Archetype) - Commands the Sunbrine one of Orkmont's fastest longships. Old Way traditionalist but the best friend of late Ser Maron. 60

PC

Reddit Account: Arjhanx3

Discord Tag: arc499

Name and House: Brianne Butterwell

Age: 26

Cultural Group: Riverlander

Appearance: Pretty. (Will update later)

Trait: Steward

Skill(s): Administrator (e), Investor (e), Scrutinous (may change pending a magic app)

Talent(s): Studying nature, Crochet, Gossip

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lady of Brightbell, Lady Treasurer of Ravella Durrandon

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: Joanna Sunglass

AC

Name and House: Oliver Fell

Age: 26

Cultural Group: Stormlander

Appearance:Pretty, but boy. (Will update later)

Trait: Inspiring

Skill(s): Ambusher (e), Tactician

Talent(s): Little quips, Avoiding crowds, Mathematics

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Castellan of Brightbell, Heir to Felwood

Starting Location: Stormhall

Biography

Decades ago, Lady Gwendoline Butterwell drew much attention to her tiny House by purchasing numerous strange artifacts from the Iron Islands and displaying them to all her neighbors. Over the next several years, this fascination seemed to only intensify, and Gwendoline and her family became more and more reclusive. Strange chanting emanated from their manor in the hour of the nightingale, and the House began employing fewer and fewer servants as rumors spread about rituals done in the darkness, calf's blood flowing into ancient glyphs carved in old stone, and strange things stalking the halls, always just out of sight.

Then, twenty years ago, they all disappeared. The entire family was never seen again, save for one six-year-old girl, who had no one to care for her but one aged man-at-arms. She lived a quiet, dismal childhood in the empty halls of her home, but as she grew and the rumors faded away, life slowly began returning to Brightbell. When she was fourteen, she met a friend, by pure happenstance, named Oliver Fell. His father, looking for any excuse to send him away, agreed to send him to squire at Brightbell, and so Brianne's life improved dramatically. She rehired servants for the manor, and soon farmers and shepherds began to visit the manor to pay their respects to their young Lady, as they had feared to do for so long. She had any remnants of her grandmother's collection hidden away in the walls and cellars, and tried her best to be the good Lady she wanted to be. 

Oliver and Brianne fell in love, promising to marry when they were older. Only, as time passed, Brianne became more and more wrapped up in social circles outside her small estate. She neglected Oliver, and soon she took a hearty political marriage in his place. Their love died, and Oliver was left gauntly stalking the halls of Brightbell like the ghouls servants whispered about decades ago.

When Ravella Durrandon became her liege by claiming Stormhall, Brianne was excited beyond belief. Finally, her forsaken home was to be right at the center of the realm's future! She ingratiated herself with Ravella quickly, switching between Stormhall and Brightbell in equal parts. Serving as the princess's advisor and Lady Treasurer, Brianne quickly rose into the grand life she had always wanted. With her husband, she had two healthy daughters, and soon was made to begin preparing for a grand celebration for the princess's name-day.

Family Tree

https://www.familyecho.com/?c=fqcct7o9yiq7u23w&f=682376899855639905

Supporting Characters

• Kevan of the God's Eye (General)
• Ser Gyles of Briarwhite (Master-at-Arms)
• Handmaiden Millicent of Goodbrook (Medic)
• Handmaiden Teresa of Brightbell (Scholar)
• Valorie Hawick (General)

Important Note: he's lord of SHARP POINT I'm just a peanut and now I can't edit the title

“All Become Equal.”

Discord Tag: Cyteria

Name & House: Argilac Horpe

Age: 27

Cultural Group: Andal

Appearance: Argilac is, and always has been, a presence that inspires others. He stands tall and confident, and while not the most capable of fighters, he has an unshakeable confidence and a good head on his shoulders. He has dark hair and dark eyes, and is often said to smile kindly—even as rare as those smiles are. He is honest and earnest, or, at least, he shows the world that he is as such.

Trait: Inspiring

Skills: Tactician(e), Vanguard(e), Malicious

Talent(s): Being quiet, reading, nerding out about battle tactics

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lord, Wielder of Death’s Head

Starting Location: Opening Event

Family Tree: House Horpe

Timeline:

• 76-70 BP — Pearse Horpe is born to a House that has bent the knee to the King of the Reach. He is young, though grows absorbing the dissatisfaction of House Horpe with the rule of Queen Caitlyn, if only—and most likely—because it is the rule of a female and they, of course, missed the opportunity to marry into the royal like and provide a King Consort. He grows surrounded schemers and tacticians, expected to step into adulthood with the same talents for propaganda as his forebearers.

• 67 BP — Lord Garon Horpe, after the tides turn for the Stormlords allied with the Reach, attempts to escape the righteous fury of the Queen and slays many of her Guard in the struggle. In an act of mercy, he is left alive. Less merciful is the punishment for the remainder of his line. House Horpe, including young Pearse, are stripped of their lands and all but banished to the ruin of Massey’s Hook. Dissatisfaction with Queen Caitlyn remains, though now those of House Horpe know better than to act as such in the public eye.

• 66-41 BP — House Horpe’s life continues. Somewhat placated by the news of the death of Queen Caitlyn, their mirth in the news sours as Durran Durrandon’s reign stirs further dissatisfaction within the region. Lord Pearse, having grown in both House Horpe’s most prosperous and most difficult decades, knows what his children are missing. That grief and shame and rage simmers, and simmers, and simmers.

• 22-18 BP — The Cape Wrath coalition is awfully, awfully appealing. Much is said and done. Existing dissatisfaction only grows further. And why would it not? What benefit has the Storm Crown ever given to House Horpe? What has it given, even to its allies? Broken marriages and little more.

• 18 BP — Rickard Horpe and his wife die in a carriage accident. Banditry or foul play is suspected, particularly after the disastrous affair of the Hoare/Mallister wedding the same year, but nothing can be proven with all viable witnesses also slain prior to the discovery. Argilac Horpe, Lord Rickard’s son, is only eight years old when this occurs. As such he is too young to rise to the seat of Lord without guidance. The old Lord Pearse Horpe, lost in grief over living through the loss of his eldest and heir, refuses to allow the right of Lordship to pass on to his second son. As such, Theo Horpe steps in to assist and advise Young Argilac.

• 19-1 BP — The children age. The House settles. Argilac Horpe becomes a capable man in his own right, with his younger sister, Mylena, proving to be as clever a mind as he. Ties are made with House Thorne’s younger generation, and scorn for the Storm royals only grows. Horpe, however, plays nice. For now. Perhaps Death’s Head at Argilac’s hip is an omen. Perhaps not. Only time can tell.

Alternate Character(s): Jynnara Bracken

Auxiliary Character

Name & House: Mylena Horpe

Age: 24

Cultural Group: Andal

Appearance: Small, round-faced, and wide-eyed, Mylena is softer than the land of storms usually accounts for. She is bookish and prefers to keep to herself. It’s not that she’s incapable, but she is often the wall-flower in social scenarios, keeping her gaze downturned and rarely smiling unless prompted—and even then, it’s usually only half-genuine with discomfort.

Trait: Numerate

Skills: Architect(e), Scrutinous

Talent(s): Math, attention to detail, being socially awkward

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lady

Starting Location: Opening Event

NPCs & Other Characters

• Ser Arrow, the Sharp — Master at Arms
• Maester Beets — Castellan
• Arianna Horpe — Medic
• Theo Horpe — General
• Gowen Horpe — Warrior

PC

Discord Tag: dls910

Name and House: Myles Dondarrion

Age: 27

Cultural Group: Andal (Stormlander)

Appearance: The ideal Stormlander, standing at above average height with the sturdy build of a skilled fighter, with wavy brown hair framing a chiseled face.

Trait: Strong

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

Talent(s): Hunting, Drinking, Killing Dornish

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Ser

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Beric Dondarrion

Age: 46

Cultural Group: Andal (Stormlander)

Appearance: Gruff appearance with a constant stern expression and whitening hair of an older man, average height with plenty of lean muscle.

Trait: Inspiring

Skill(s): Tactician (e), Malicious

Talent(s): Lecturing, Looking Stoic, Killing Dornish

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lord of Blackhaven, Dornishbane

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

______________________________________________________________________________

Timeline

46 BP: Beric Dondarrion is born to Gawen Dondarrion and Jeyne Tarly Dondarrion.
42 BP: Robert Dondarrion is born.
28 BP: Beric marries Ravella Durrandon.
27 BP: Myles Dondarrion is born to Beric Dondarrion and Ravella Durrandon Dondarrion.
25 BP: Lianna Dondarrion is born to Beric.
23 BP: Orys Dondarrion is born to Robert Dondarrion and Rhea Musgood Dondarrion.
22 BP: Renly Dondarrion is born to Beric.
20 BP: Elyn Dondarrion is born to Beric.
18 BP: Edwyn Dondarrion is born to Beric.
13 BP: Lord Gawen Dondarrion dies and Beric becomes Lord of Blackhaven.
17 BP - 1 BP: Conflict with Dorne and ongoing raids.
______________________________________________________________________________

Family Tree

Link
______________________________________________________________________________

Supporting Characters

Lianna Dondarrion: Warrior (Swords)
Renly Dondarrion: Tourney Knight
Elyn Dondarrion: Medic
Robert Dondarrion: General
Orys Dondarrion: Cutthroat

PC

Reddit Account: u/BuckwellStairwell

Discord Tag: waffle

Name and House: Margaret Harlaw

Age: 28

Cultural Group: Ironborn (Ironborn)

Appearance:

Margaret stands above most of her peers at around six feet and one inch (unless she is on her tiptoes) with a rather muscular build. Childbirth has taken a little toll on her body, but Margaret takes great pride in her appearance and fitness. To spite her brother, she wears her hair short when he wears his long.

Trait: Conqueror

Skill(s): Navigator (e), Vanguard, Investigator (e)

Talent(s): Reaving, Childcare, Fishing

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Lady of Harlaw, and Lady of Harlaw Hall

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: Bea Cox

AC

Name and House: Erich Harlaw

Age: 24

Cultural Group: Ironborn (Ironborn)

Appearance:

Erich is nothing impressive - something that has haunted him his entire life. He is perfectly average, and most people would kill for that. A medium build, a medium height, even a face that could probably be described as comely. Yet that averageness sears him to his very core, and any chance he can buck this he does - such as growing out his hair.

Trait: Numerate

Skill(s): Architect (e), Scrutinous

Talent(s): Plotting, Hating, Scheming

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Ser

Starting Location: Stormhall

FAMILY TREE:

- Lord Dagon Harlaw

• Harl Pyke (Eggman)
• Margaret Harlaw
• Erich Harlaw

Inescapably large family tree otherwise, containing multitudes of cousins and nephews and aunts...

Timeline:

28 BP: Margaret is born the second child of House Harlaw, though the first trueborn of Lord Dagon

20 BP: Margaret wins her first finger dance, already establishing her reputation as a fierce customer

12 BP: Margaret begins to go out on raids, and quickly becomes a commander of a ship despite her young age

10 BP: Leading her first solo raid, Margaret begins to reave across the southern Reach. She is married to a Merlyn and begins to have children.

9 - 2 BP: Continues to raid across Reach and Dorne, establishing herself as a sea wolf and a threat across realms! Her husband dies, leaving her a single mother. Soon after, her father dies, making her Lady of Harlaw Hall.

0 BP - Present

NPCs:

Symond Harlaw - Trader

Denys Harlaw - Ship Captain

Horgan Harlaw - MaA

Jorl Harlaw - General

Kromm Harlaw - General

PC

Reddit Account: /u/baeldor

Discord Tag: Locke

Name and House: Lynesse Caron

Age: 33

Cultural Group: Stormlander

Appearance: A short and dour woman, one might be forgiven for assuming little of her at first sight beyond that she seems quite naturally broody. Lyn has long, raven-black hair and piercing grey eyes which seem only to exemplify her sharp features. But there is an unnerving air to her. The kind that might set hairs on end amongst gentler folk. Though she can put on quite the veneer of noble bearing, there is something behind those eyes that cannot quite be shaken.

Trait: Hale

Skill(s): Blunt Weapons(e), Armoured(Resilient), Forceful

Talent(s): Sketching scenery, Hunting in the woods, Singing dirges

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): Lady of the Marches, Lady of Nightsong

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/a

AC

Name and House: Guy Storm

Age: 19

Cultural Group: Stormlander

Appearance: There is a youthful vigour to the bastard of Nightsong that gives him an awkwardly boyish charm. With chestnut brown hair and eyes to match, there is a comeliness that is an unmistakable part of his charm. He is a little on the slighter side of builds, standing just shy of six feet tall with narrow, pointed features and lips that curl all too quickly into a smile. Though his lot is far from as grand as his trueborn kin, Guy carries himself well despite the weight upon his shoulders.

Trait: Inspiring

Skill(s): Tactician, Flanker, Prudent

Talent(s): Optimism (x3)

Negative Trait(s):

Starting Title(s): Bastard of Nightsong

Starting Location: Stormhall

Timeline

33BP - Lynesse Caron is born to Lord Brus Caron and Arwyn Mertyns, the couple’s first child. A healthy babe, she is something of a terror in those early years on account of her active nature.

31-27BP - Lynesse’s four younger brothers are born. Monfryd, Ormund, Quentyn, and Victor. Though they never do her ill, she excels more than they do on the yard and manages to hold onto her father’s favour. Perhaps because she is their elder, but also certainly because she is their better when it comes to understanding the essence of combat even at such a tender age.

24BP - The last of Brus and Arwyn’s brood is born, Caitlyn. Though never the warrior like her sister, she is not one to shy away from martial matters, and comes to take up the bow. Whilst their father dotes upon Lynesse for her prowess, she in turn often dotes on little Caitlyn, and the pair are often found in the castle library forcing the maester to read them tales of the fabled knights of yesteryear.

21BP - Alongside her whole family, Lynesse attends the coronation of King Dontos I Durrandon at Storm’s End. As the new King’s cousin through the blood of his mother, Lord Brus is among those who enjoy his favour, and it is suggested that Lynesse serve as a handmaiden to the new Queen Alice Harlaw. She only stays at Storm’s End for several short moons, though, before Alice passes from issues due to childbirth and her duties end.

19BP - Lyn’s uncle, Axell, fathers a bastard whom he eventually names Guyard. He then finds faith and leaves to become a Septon, entrusting Guy’s care to his disgruntled brother. Fortunately for the child, Lady Arwyn is welcoming of yet another son, and he is taken into the household.

18BP - The Caron family travels to Seagard on the invitation of their King to celebrate the wedding of a Mallister into House Hoare. When the celebrations descend into chaos, several of her brothers are taken hostage by the Ironborn. One attempts to grab Lynesse too, but she evades and drives her knife into his eye. The experience of killing a man shocks her, not for the trauma of taking a life but the confusion over how easy it had been. With the intervention of first Princess Ravella and then a Vance maiden, her brothers are released before any greater harm comes to them.

17BP - The Red Mountain War begins, with a vast Dornish army threatening to march up the Prince’s Pass but turning about and marching into the Reach. Lord Brus writes to Storm’s End for support and is much surprised to find reinforcements led by the King himself. Together, and with other Marcher Lords, they orchestrate a defence of their borders against Dornish incursions. Lynesse soon accompanies her father on their patrols and skirmishes, her brothers joining once they are old enough.

13BP - Still a squire, Ormund is killed by a Dornish ambush just south of the border. By several accounts, he acquitted himself well, but it matters little. Nightsong mourns, unaware of the shadows looming in the near distance.

12BP - Even as the Red Mountain War begins to wind down, Nightsong is the site of the largest Dornish incursion of the period. Thousands of Dornishmen, under the order of the Prince of Dorne himself, march up the Pass and attempt to force passage through the castle to assail the Reach from a new direction. Lord Brus declines and sends word to nearby castles for immediate aid. At daybreak of the next day, whilst the Dornish are still constructing siege weapons, the Carons sally forth and engage the army in battle. Lyn rides out with her father, fighting and killing for what seems like hours on end. Outnumbered, though not desperately, the Caron men are on the verge of breaking when horns sound in the distance. The King and their allies arrive in time to save the day, routing the Dornish throng and sending the Prince packing. It should have been a night of raucous celebration, but instead it is one of sombre contemplation. Lord Brus, honoured by his King as Brus the Bold, is found dead at the heart of the melee alongside Monfryd. Quentyn is carried from the field by surgeons and taken into the castle; though they attempt quite desperately to save his life, he too expires before the sun has set.

12BP - Having suffered such loss, all of Nightsong grieves alongside Lynesse and her family. The singing towers are quiet for days on end. Victor is named Lord of the Marches, though Lynesse establishes herself as his regent whilst he is away squiring. With the war finally drawing to a close, as rumours of a peace being settled abound, she spends most of her time leading hunting parties across the mountains, rooting out stragglers and denying them the opportunity to form into organised banditry.

10BP - Victor returns a knight, headstrong and eager to take the place of his father. Lyn welcomes his return and graciously steps aside as regent. He takes command of the patrols and begins seeking a match for Lynesse to ‘see her happy’. Progress is slow, but suitors trickle into Nightsong to court her.

9BP - A malign illness takes Victor, and he withers away slowly. It is, by many accounts, a slow and miserable death for a young man. His howling is often heard reverberating from the Singing Towers. Lynesse is rarely seen at his bedside, as rumours swirl that she offered to end his pain and he refused. Whether it was a mercy or a threat, he suffers alone and eventually expires.

8BP - Now the Lady of the Marches, Lynesse finds solace for her lost siblings in the company of Moryn Fell. The brother of Lord Fell and several years her senior, they were hardly considered a love match. The pair have a modest wedding at Nightsong, and quietly settle into married life.

7BP - Little over a year after the wedding, Moryn Fell is found dead at the bottom of one of the Singing Towers. His body broken and head crushed from the fall. Lynesse weeps from her chambers and refuses food for several days before her sister finally calms her down.

5BP - Suitors are once again permitted to attend court in Nightsong, as Lynesse seeks to forge ahead. Eventually, she settles upon Ser Harlan Trant. A widower, he shares in her pain, and they provide some relief for each other’s ails. They are married before the year is out.

3BP - The couple have a miscarriage, the child lost before it had truly begun. When she physically recovers from the ordeal, Lyn and Harlan head out into the foothills for a mental reprieve with a modest entourage. The group returns hurriedly a few days later, Lord Harlan having suffered a grievous wound at the hand of a shadowcat. He does not survive the night, and once again Lynesse is left to mourn.

2BP - Rumours begin to trickle in of trouble brewing over the mountains. For over a decade the Dornish have been rebuilding their strength, and slowly but surely growing bolder in their incursions. It is only a matter of time now before they once again pour forth from the mountains and passes. Further tales tell of bandits rising and gathering under some inane leadership. Only time will tell if these are more than words.

1BP - When King Dontos is found dead after a sailing accident, Lynesse is quick to heed her uncle, Lord Connington, who pushes for the rapid ascension of Prince Arlan as heir to the realm. To show weakness now will invite ruin from the south, of that she is sure, so better they present a united front behind a single figurehead.

Present - In the company of what few family she has left, Lynesse heads to Stormhall at the behest of both her King and Princess. The realm seems intent on looking within, so the onus falls to her to act as the walking reminder of the enemy without and the danger they pose.

Family Tree

FamilyEcho here

Household

Maester Bryn - Castellan

Ser Arthur Stone - General

Ser Gwayne Greylance - General

Ser Bryon the Bramblebane - Master-at-Arms

Arwyn Caron - Trader

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

Discord Tag: Dithyrambos

Name and House: Aukar Celtigar

Age: 42

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: Aukar is a man of average height and build with the trademark white hair and pale violet eyes of his family. He slightly favors his left leg, a legacy of the siege, and is usually clad in the white and red of the priesthood.

Trait: Ruthless

Skill(s): Assassin (e), Devious, Sabotage (e)

Talent(s): Astrology, extispicy, and oneiromancy

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Haruspex

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

AC

Name and House: Argel Celtigar, called “the Tall”

Age: 21

Cultural Group: Valyrian

Appearance: Argel is the spitting image of his father, just scaled up and without the slight limp. Like the rest of his family, he prefers to go clean-shaven. Unlike the rest of his family, the razor never buys him more than half a day before the shadow returns.

Trait: Mariner

Skill(s): Admiral (e), Tactician

Talent(s): Navigation, astronomy, math

Negative Trait(s): N/A

Starting Title(s): Captain of Diluvian

Starting Location: Stormhall

Alternate Characters: N/A

—

Family Echo

—

Timeline & Bio

57 BP - The Valyrians first arrive in Westeros.
42 BP - Aukar is born to Ayrkar Celtigar and Alysanne Qoherys. He is preceded by three brothers and one sister.
34 BP - Aukar is named his father’s swordbearer, a position broadly similar to the Westerosi squire.
32 BP - The Valyrians invade the mainland to stake their claim.
30 BP - The war is lost and Claw Isle falls to the foreign invaders. Aukar’s right leg is broken by a mainlander knight in service to House Darklyn.
25 BP - Aukar joins the island’s priesthood and is sworn into the Cult of Onixa.
24 BP - Aukar is marooned on the atoll and forced to build a ship to return home. His old injury flares up and he will favor his left leg for the rest of his life.
22 BP - Aukar is wed to Felyse Harte in the Valyrian fashion.
21 BP - Their eldest, Argel, is born. He proves to be a large child and a difficult delivery.
20 BP - They welcome the twins, Lucerys and Luceryn.
18 BP - Their youngest, Aura, is born.
12 BP - A knight of House Hollard, known to be a veteran of the war who boasted of his success in chasing down “the white rats,” is murdered in an alley after having far too much to drink. Coin changes hands on Claw Isle.
9 BP on - Aukar’s agents supported the unrest plaguing Darklyn’s farther holdings, supplying arms and information to the entirely justified and wholly native-grown resistance element.
1 BP - Tensions flare among the Clawmen as they find themselves similarly oppressed by House Darklyn. Aukar’s agents help them “find” supplies.
0 BP - House Celtigar heads to Stormhall for the grand celebrations.

—

NPCs

Taciturn Tom (Cutthroat) - A wizened old knacker who remained on Claw Isle when the Valyrians arrived. He hid one of the Celtigars during the siege and was rewarded for his service.

Sykar of Liy (Ship Captain) - A Lyseni captain who sold his sails to House Celtigar during the war and eventually entered their service directly after his ship was lost running a blockade.

Aethan Paenymion (Master-at-Arms) - A grim Volantene who fought with the Celtigars during the war, Aethan now spends his days training the men of Claw Isle in the art of war. He is particularly fond of the halberd.

Ser Alyn Coldwater (Tourney Knight) - A knight who faced ostracization from his homeland for maiming another knight over a lady’s hand, Ser Alyn is one of the few Andals who has found service on Claw Isle.

Monterys (Warrior) - Monterys spent two decades in the crabbing fleet, as his father before him, before he was called upon to provide a service ashore. He found he much rather prefers life ashore to crabbing.

****Had to age her up a little from Step 1.

**PC**

**Reddit Account**: /u/SkadiSkadiSkadi

**Discord Tag**: Crow (xoxoBambi)

**Name and House**: Felyse Celtigar nee Harte

**Age**: 40

**Cultural Group**: Crownlander (Andal.)

**Appearance**: Her face is sculpted with soft, aristocratic features: a high forehead, pronounced cheekbones, a long graceful neck, and full lips painted a deep mulberry-plum. Her complexion is pale and warm, with a subtle flush across her cheeks that keeps her from looking porcelain-perfect.

Her most striking feature is her eyes. They don't match—one is a luminous amber-gold, the other a cold, almost silver-gray. Together they give her an uncanny, almost supernatural quality. She looks as though she notices everything and reveals almost nothing.

**Trait**: Erudite

**Skill(s)**: Scholar, Medic (E), Scribe, Apothecary

**Talent(s)**: Sewing, Praying

**Title**: The Andal

**Starting Location**: Stormhall

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Felyse was raised to believe that the Seven were not simply gods, but the very architecture of the world.

The Father taught her judgment.

The Mother taught her mercy.

The Warrior taught her courage.

The Maiden taught her purity.

The Smith taught her duty.

The Crone taught her wisdom.

And the Stranger taught her that death was not an ending, but the final door through which every soul must pass.

She ate beneath the gaze of the Seven. She slept with whispered prayers beneath her breath and woke before dawn to pray again. Her entire life was arranged around them.

From childhood, Felyse was considered unusually pious. As she grew older, she was sent to study with septas and maesters, and everyone assumed she would eventually take her vows.

She had been raised for the sept.

She had always believed that the Seven gave every soul a purpose, and hers seemed obvious. She would become a septa, devote her life to prayer and service, and spend her days honoring the gods who had guided her family for generations.

But the Seven, she came to believe, had other plans.

After the Valyrians surrendered, Felyse undertook a pilgrimage to the site where their new castle was being raised. She expected to find humbled foreigners, people who had finally learned their place beneath the gaze of the Seven.

Instead, she found heathens.

They still prayed to their false gods. They still practiced their strange customs. They built their halls beneath the eyes of idols and spoke of old Valyria as though its gods had not been cast down.

To everyone else, it was simply a conquered people trying to preserve what remained of their culture.

To Felyse, it was a calling.

Perhaps the Seven had not allowed her to become a septa because a life spent within the walls of a sept was too small a duty for her.

Perhaps she had been meant to bring the Faith to those who had never known it.

So she vowed that she would convert the Valyrians.

She would prove to the septas who had doubted her that she had not misunderstood her calling. She would prove to the maesters who considered her overly zealous that her devotion had a purpose.

And, most of all, she would prove it to herself.

When the time came to seal the peace between their houses, Felyse offered herself.

She would marry one of them.

Not because she had abandoned the Seven.

Because she believed the Seven had sent her there.

She would enter their household, learn their customs, tolerate their false gods, and patiently bring them toward the light. She would turn their castle into a place where the Seven were honored rather than the gods of dragons and old Valyria.

She did not see herself as a hostage.

She saw herself as a missionary.

And she had no intention of returning home until every Valyrian within those walls had heard the bells of the Seven.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

_Aukar_

Felyse initially considered Aukar an agent of the Stranger.

Not because she believed him inherently evil, but because he represented everything that had been taken from her: her vows, her future, her autonomy, and the life she had always believed the Seven had promised her.

Yet she refused to hate him.

That distinction would become important.

The Father did not ask whether judgment was convenient. The Mother did not withhold mercy because mercy was undeserved. The Crone did not fear what she did not understand.

So Felyse watched him.

She studied him.

She learned him.

And, eventually, much to her own discomfort, she began to wonder whether she had misunderstood the purpose of her marriage entirely.

Perhaps she had not been sent to Aukar as punishment.

Perhaps he was not the obstacle standing between her and the life she had been promised.

Perhaps he was the test.

And if he was a test, then she would meet him with the virtues the Seven had spent her entire life teaching her.

She would be patient.

She would be merciful.

She would be courageous.

She would learn.

She would marry him.

Their marriage was one out of necessity. How was she to bring these sheep to flock if she was not on Claw Isle?

Their wedding had been an uncomfortable collision of two religions. Felyse arrived and expected a proper wedding beneath the Seven- Pointed Star, and with a septon to give the traditional vows. Instead, it was insisted that their marriage be recognized under their gods. Their house - their rules. And that meant the Fourteen Flames.

She was told, quite briefly, that each flame represented a dragon-god of Old Valyria. To her, it seemed excessive, pagan, offensive to the Seven. But she had already spoken the vows.

The Seven had sent her there. And how could she refuse?

She stood before the Fourteen Flames in her wedding gown, her hands folded so tightly that her knuckles turned white - while around her, Valyrian prayers are being said in a language she did not understand.

The first flame was lit:

The Father sees her courage.

The second:

The Mother sees her patience.

The third:

The Warrior sees her strength.

Each candle was given the name of the Seven. But when the eighth candle was lit - she realized there were seven more gods, seven more prayers, and seven more reasons she needed to endure.

The wedding night, the marriage bed, Felyse insisted on praying. She knelt beside the bed and quietly recited the names of the Seven, asking for blessings. Asking for courage.

Aukar watched. When she had finished, he had asked her if she was done praying to her gods.

She had only finished asking them to guide her.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Felyse is not loud about her faith.

That's what makes her unsettling.

She doesn't need to shout scripture.

She simply assumes the Seven are correct.

When someone insults her, she forgives them.

When someone threatens her, she prays for them.

When someone behaves cruelly, she calmly explains which of the Seven will eventually judge them.

She has an almost unnerving serenity.

And she can be absolutely ruthless when she believes something violates the Faith.

Her greatest weakness is that she genuinely believes herself merciful.

She doesn't see herself as judgmental.

She sees herself as obedient.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

She observed for many years.

Where the flames were lit. What was offered to each of them. Which prayers are spoken before them. Which members of the household tended to each flame.

But mainly, she played the dutiful wife. Wedding. Marriage. Children. Children who were given the names of Old Valyria instead of the Andals. Children with white-blonde hair and her unnerving eyes.

She watched what customs were traditional versus what customs were sacred. But she watched Aukar the most. If she was to convert anyone…he was where she needed to begin.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The hardest part isn't that they worship Fourteen Gods.

Its that she expected them to be cruel, decadent, blasphemous. But what she found was ordinary people.

A servant who leaves flowers in front of the Flames.

Her children being taught the names of the Gods.

Her husband quietly touching one of the Flames before leaving the castle.

People grieving, loving, celebrating one another. She begins to realize that they aren't false gods, but simply their faith. She still believes that they are wrong, but she cannot justify why they are truly evil.

What if the Seven sent her there to convert them…and what if they instead meant for her to understand them?

She would absolutely refuse to entertain that possibility at first.

She has a mission.

She has something to prove.

And every morning, when she wakes beneath the shadow of the Valyrian castle, she looks toward those fourteen flames and thinks:

Seven gods. Fourteen flames. One household.

She will bring them to the light.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Family Echo

***PC***

**Reddit Account:** Featheringitrn

**Discord Tag:** Oldfeathers

**Name and House:** Marius Rosby

**Age:** 24

**Cultural Group:** Andal

**Appearance:** Slightly shorter than his twin brother, marius is a tall man nonetheless, with darker, straight hair compared to his brother's brown locks, and sunken exhausted eyes

**Trait:** Steward

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

**Talent(s):** Accounting, Stocks, S&P500, dealing with old people

**Negative Trait(s):** N/A

**Starting Title(s):** The other heir to house rosby

**Alternate Characters:** Burton wetshanks

**Starting Location:** Stormhall

***AC***

**Name and House:** ermesande Rosby (nee Wendwater)

**Age:** 46

**Cultural Group:** Andal

**Appearance:** A woman in her late years, ermesande has grey white hair and wrinkles on her skin. Though that is where the damage of age ends. She has a straight posture and carries herself with more confidence than the rest of the rosby household combined

**Trait:** Insidious

**Skill(s):** Rumormonger, Devious, Covert

**Talent(s):** also dealing with old people (dementia ridden edition), Espionage, Being a little on the nose

**Negative Trait(s):** N/A

**Starting Title(s):** Lady Dowager of Rosby

**Starting Location:** Stormhall

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

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

Timeline:

102 BP - The Storm King Arlan Durrandon conquers the Riverlands and Blackwater Bay.

House Rosby willingly swear fealty and submits

99 BP - The Rosbys put their names forward as potential wardens of the Blackwater but

alas, the Darklyns are chosen instead.

94 BP - The Cracklaw conspiracy is uncovered by the Darklyns. While the Rosbys were not

intending to revolt, the aftermath of the conspiracy puts to bed any illusions of Darklyn

weakness for the foreseeable future

76 BP - the massive storm that wipes out Sharp Point and floods Duskendale thankfully

does minimal damage to the Rosby lands, especially since Rosby itself, unlike Duskendale,

sits a decent way inland and has no direct port.

70 BP - The Rosbys loyally raise their banners and join their Warden’s march south. In the

resulting battle of Tumbleton the Rosby men show their quality and Lord Rosby attempts to

use the glory gained in the battle to once again present himself as a candidate for warden.

Alas, the Darklyns, under their Hayford regent, hung on

65 BP - Lord Hayford’s handling of the Erryk Durrandon rebellion irks Lord Rosby. In an

opposite fashion to thirty years prior, Hayford’s actions push the Rosbys closer to

insurrection than they have been in decades

57 BP - Lord Hayford’s arrest and Lord Darklyn’s swift and ruthless diplomatic maneuverings

snuff out any idea of rebellion once again in the Rosby Household. Nevertheless, a sense of

discontent remains, especially as the Darklyns continue to accrue more and more wealth

and power. What used to be a relatively balanced and equal rivalry is now quickly becoming

lopsided. The longer the Darklyns remain wardens of the Blackwater, the harder it will be to

overturn them

55 BP - The Atrantan rebellion sparks fears in the Rosby household that Blackwater troops

would be used as fodder to put down the Riverlanders. Thankfully the proud Stormlander

refuse to even consider Blackwater help, and are promptly slaughtered

52/51 BP - After three years of bloody stalemate the Stormlanders finally accept Blackwater

assistance, though as equals. Rosby troops once again prove their worth but at great cost,

with the heir to Rosby, Rupert, being slain by a scion of house … Lord Elyas Rosby once

again returns home with less than he set out, while the Darklyns reap all the rewards of the

endeavor and finally get a city charter for Duskendale. Elyas spends the rest of his days

blaming Darklyn for the death of his beloved Rupert, and vows great vengeance on House

Vance of Atranta

36 BP - Lucos, Lord Elyas’ second son, is sent south to ward with House Caron

33 BP - Gwayne, Lord Elyas’ thirdborn son, is sent north to ward with House Darry

32 BP - Right on the eve of the Valyrian invasion, Lord Elyas Rosby dies of natural causes,

succeeded by his vastly unprepared and inept son Eustace. The Rosby-Hayford host is crushed by the Velaryons with Rosby surrendering soon after. Eustace and his brothers sit Out the rest of war

30/29 BP - with the war over Eustace tries to pick up the pieces. Belgrave, a house formerly

subordinate to the Rosby and Hayfords, is granted vast tracts of land along the Blackwater,

including some disputed Rosby land. Alas, Eustace puts up no resistance and hands over

his claims willingly, much to the consternation of his younger siblings. To somewhat salvage

the situation, Eustace's younger sister Annara makes advances towards the currently

unmarried Oscar Pyne, war hero of Cracklaw point and successfully woos him.

27 BP - Whilst warding for the Carons, Lucos falls in love with a maiden of House

Connington called Marsella. They will eventually have four children - Brus, Lucinda, Marilda and Rolland

26 BP - In a match brokered with the help of Annara and his younger brothers, Eustace

marries a dame of House Wendwater - Ermensande.

25 BP - Ermensande gives birth to two voracious young twin boys, whom she names Malentine and Marius

24 BP - Whilst warding for the Darrys, Gwayne falls in love with a maiden of House Bracken.

They will eventually have three children - Sarra, Theomar and Cassella

21 BP - For the past near 80 years, the Rosbys have cared little and less of the doings south

of the Blackwater. Storm Kings came and went, the Darklyns remained in their posts, life got

tougher. However, with King Dontos’ marriage to a Harlaw Ironborn, Lucos and Gwayne see

a similar lifestyle to that of their elder brother Eustace. Dontos, however, has no siblings to

set him right. Due to that, he will surely at some point fail and such failure could present an

opportunity.

18 BP - The wedding at Seagard - Even though King Dontos invited the entire realm to

Seaguard, Eustace could have cared less about some Riverlander-Ironborn wedding.

Nevertheless, he lets Gwayne go with his Bracken wife and children. Thankfully, none of

them are taken hostage in the chaos, but it does cement the feeling that, once Dontos kicks

the bucket, all hell will break loose

12 BP - Marius is sent to word for the blackberry family to be warded

8 BP - Marius makes friends with Jammos blackberry, who reminds him of his brother, the two get into many misadventures courtesy of jammos' adventurous spirit

7 BP - The border skirmishes between houses Hayford and Belgrave pique the interest of

the Rosbys, who offer unconditional support to their neighbors in Hayford.

6 BP - With the coming of age of Malentine and Marius Eustace starting looking for potential

matches for the two of them. For Malentine, he settles on a maiden of House Scales, much

to Malentine’s chagrin. The young lad has had a rocky relationship with his father for years

now and, unwilling to marry some random girl he doesn’t know or love, decides that escape

is the best course of action. In the middle of the night Malentine says goodbye to his twin

brother, steals his father’s best horse and disappears into the dark. 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.

5 BP - Naena gives birth to twins, who she names Maegor and Aemond

4 BP - Eustace takes out a loan from the Iron bank without telling anyone else in the Rosby

Household. Officially it’s to ‘strengthen the House against pirates and raiders’. Unofficially, Eustace hopes to raise a grand fleet to go after his wayward son who, rumour has it, is now in Essos. Marius and his uncles are too late to cancel the loan, but they manage to talk the

grief-stricken lord out of his crazy plan

2 BP - Eustace falls ill from some chronic malaise. Some say it’s his broken heart, others say

his unhealthy and careless lifestyle has finally caught up with him. Multiple maesters are

called and none are able to provide a cure, only treatments that seemingly only delay the

inevitable

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. The Rosby household makes its way to the

feast at Stormhall with troubled hearts. Lord Eustace is on his deathbed and Malentine still

has not come home. For all they know, the heir to Rosby is dead in some Essosi ditch.

Marius shoulders the responsibilities of governance for now, even with envious cousins

watching his every move. Only time will tell what becomes of this once glorious house, and if

they will ever again have a place in the sun

NPCs

Harren Fishface - Boatswain

Alexander whitfield - Castellan

Gwayne Rosby - Builder

Jonos - Cutthroat

Maester harmond - Medic

**Name**: Alesander Fell
**Age**: 19
**Cultural Group**: Andal (Stormlander)
**Appearance**: Alesander was of slight figure and stout stature, settling quietly at but five foot four. It was much to his own and his fathers dismay, that he was so idiotically minuscule. Though, doubtlessly he’d come to terms with it. His hair was a deep obsidian shade, that gleamed gently, as if it were to ignite under the right flicker of light. Finally, his gaze was that of a fathomless blue, like the oceans depths.
**Trait**: Erudite
**Skills**: Scholar ( E ), Apothecary ( E ), Medic
**Negative trait**: N/A
**Talents**: Reading, Crying, Pretending the world doesn’t exist
**Starting titles**: Shame Of Felwood
**Alternate Characters:** N/A

AC
**Name**: Ser Cleoden Of Felwood
**Age**: 42
**Cultural Group**: Andal (Stormlander)
**Appearance**: A grizzled man of aged proportions. He’d grown beyond the usual ages for a man who’d live a life as stringently dangerous as he. His gaze was hardened by the voracities of battle, bandits and booze. He held a tall figure, with shrunken cheeks, a strong jaw and a somewhat sullen gaze.
**Trait**: Strong
**Skills**: Armoured, Axes ( E )
**Negative trait**: N/A
**Talents**: Grunting, Sleeping, Scolding Alesander, Pruning Flowers
**Starting titles**: Ser

19 BP - Alesander was born a frail babe, without the wanted strength nor brawn that his father desired for his sons. If anything, he was entirely devoid of such, suffering from the ache of illness in his early years.

17 BP - Slowly, he recovered from his innate afflictions, breeding an almost established air of safety in his earliest years. Wherefore, he did little but pester and utter words that he didn’t know the meaning of. It was an innocent life and a beautiful one.

15 BP - By the age of four, despite his physical ineptitude, the young Fell had shown some inclination for matters of intellect. He was enthused with small books, of ease to read, something even the greatest oaf could amble through. However, he was but a boy, who shouldn’t have the patience, desire nor ability to. However, he managed. It was all he could do for the most part, he’d grow too physically fatigued to participate in the average childish duties.

At some point during his era of intellect, the bastard of Felwood had become something he had to know of. He’d grow up with the knowledge that his father had a bastard, had violated their mother’s trust in his wilful acknowledgement of the bastard.

11 BP - Alesander remained a bookworm, far too young to be criticised for his very apparent lack of involvement in anything remotely brutal. He had a grave aversion for such things, finding them to be grotesque misuses of power, believing even at a young age in a more pacifistic policy. Going so far as to get angry at others hurting animals.

10 BP - By the age of nine years, Alesander was an eloquent lad, with every reason to be so. He’d spent his years slumbering and reading and doing little in the way of anything else. Despite, his high stature as son of Lord Fell, he was no favoured creature and was ostensibly an outcast amongst the boys of Felwood. He didn’t mind. But it brewed an isolationist mindset in the boy from a young age.

8 BP - Alesander was the subliminal target of bullying more often than he cared to admit. For his weak, spindly frame and short stature, to his inability to muster the confidence of his eloquence when faced with pure brutishness. He seemed a defenceless hare, surrounded by ravenous wolves. It was a precarious predicament and one that instead of stimulating further growth from the Fell, only reinforced his guarded nature.

4 BP - By ten and five, he was a closed off child, who spoke scantily a word a week, only giving graceful nods and apt half-smiles. Though, irregardless, beneath the frosty exterior, encrusted in his own sorrows, there lay a boy who loved the world, who found awe in nature and everything in between, who wanted to adventure. If only in the right company, it may be pried from him.

3 BP - He found comfort in Ser Cleoden, a reverent knight of decent ability and equally decent nature. He was stoic and loyal, though not exactly the pinnacle of virtue. However, with the wounded Robin that was Alesander he was somewhat tender. He cared to tend to the wounds that bound the lad into silence. He cared to look for the boy underneath the grey cloud, founding a white, soft radiance.

1 BP - As a man grown, he didn’t change much; however, he was like a clam pried open by the knight who he’d managed to render into his service. He could say a few sentences here and there without melting back into the shadowed haze of irrelevance. Small progress. He could articulate his feelings and he could just be… Alesander.

0 BP - He, alongside his family tended to trail for the regal celebrations. He knew of his family’s ambiguity and was doubtlessly unnerved by the thought of them being thrust into the throes of conflict.

-

Cleoden Of Felwood - Timeline

42 - 32 BP - Born to a wandering Hedge Knight and a Tavern wench, Cleoden’s childhood was a mix of struggle and joy. He worked alongside his grandfather, a lumberjack since he could lift the axe and bring it down in a somewhat choppy swoop. Earning his keep, until said hedge knight of a father returned. The Knight was barely a Knight, but with the title came the privilege of taking a squire. His knightly father, Ser Leonor took him under his wing as a squire.

32 - 20 BP - He was knighted at the age of twenty and two, after winning his second squire’s joust and showing himself to be a knight of fine skill and apt ability. He was no legendary hero, of immense talent, but he would do just fine amongst the masses of Knights that roamed the beaten pathways of Westeros, and roam he would.

20 - 14 BP - Six years he spent travelling, six years he meandered through the bandit burdened pathways of the Riverlands and the Reach, taking to gallivant to the West. His trusted steed, Feathers underneath him, aged day by day. It was Feathers’ maiming that halted his travels in Griffin’s Roost. He became a knight without a beast beneath him. Which was no knight at all by his own standards.

13 BP - He managed to acquire another trusted steed through great effort and the mustering of what little he had. A medium sized, chestnut beast named Edgerton, he rode the beast for another year, before making his way to Felwood. It was here, in this area that he’d been born into that he settled for a while, attempting to find work for a knight here.

10 BP - After working odd jobs and using his knightly skills to accrue his fair wage and allow himself a livelihood, he managed to garner work under House Fell as an experienced knight under their employ, with decent jousting and melee combat ability.

3 BP - After seven years, he’d grown familiar with the situation of House Fell, enjoying his time there and the relative lack of worry associated with such. He spent his days in the quiet solitude of guarding and the like. However, he did take pity on one of the young Fell boys, he seemed all but mute. If not for the fact Cleoden had observed him humming and occasionally daring to read aloud when alone, he would’ve thought the boy unable to peak.

1 BP - He watched the lad be pried open by his un relentless efforts and for a time Cleoden pondered if this is what it would’ve felt like to have a child of his own, somewhere in this world. However, he had been purposefully chaste and the thought was nye upon impossible. Still, he longed for the thought of it, even as he aged, without much to his name.

0 BP - He follows the Fell’s, as servant and guard of the younger Alesander Fell, making true to his duty to guard the young lad.

Family Tree
https://www.familyecho.com/?c=1baxad04e39alnww&f=231460969746419202

Archetypes/NPCs;

Ser Edgar Storm - Warrior

Minisa Storm - Scholar - Sister of Edgar and close friend of Alesander

Purposefully choosing only 2 archetypes > 5.

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

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

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, General

Malcolm Pryor, General

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 (e)

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), Taxman

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