Fantasy 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 - 𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘢 |character sheets

[uwupolice]

“𝘐𝘛 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘎𝘖𝘌𝘚 𝘉𝘈𝘊𝘒 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘉𝘈𝘊𝘒 𝘛𝘖 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘔𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘍𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘐𝘙𝘚 𝘉𝘌𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘔.
𝘞𝘌 𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘗𝘜𝘗𝘗𝘌𝘛𝘚 𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘚 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘌 𝘞𝘏𝘖 𝘊𝘈𝘔𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘚,
𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘖𝘞𝘕 𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘋𝘙𝘌𝘕 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘜𝘗 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘚
𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 𝘐𝘕 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘚"

- 𝘵𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

BASICS
full name
nickname (optional)
age
birthday (the current year is 281)
gender
house
titles
religion
RELATIONS
parents
spouse
siblings
offspring [everything after here is optional]
affairs
relatives
factions
friends
allies
enemies
nemesis
APPEARANCE
if no reference picture, please be as descriptive as possible
height/weight
notable characteristics
MENTAL
ailments (i.e. the targayens madness, anxiety, ptsd, etc. please be realistic and respectful when writing about a mental disorder)
intelligence
PERSONALITY
personality
likes
dislikes
weaknesses
COMBAT
skills (can be more than just combat related)
weaknesses
weapons
BIOGRAPHY
WRITING SAMPLE
optional if the biography isn't detailed
__________________________________

* heart reaction = approval
​

 

[slim]

Elon Lannister

“It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill.”

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  full name

  Elon Lannister

  nicknames:

  El

  age

  21

  date of birth

  March 30th, 260 A.C

  gender

  male

  Religion

  The Faith of the Seven

  Relations

  Parents:Lord: TBD | Lady: TBD |Spouse: N/A| Siblings:Bethany Lannister-older sister|Tacticus Lannister-older brother (deceased)
  
  

  titles

  Lord Elon, The Golden Lion, Brightroar
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  height & weight

  6'1 | 172 lbs

  hair

  Elon has the signature golden locks of the Lannisters that is closely cropped and rarely styled.

  eyes

  His eyes are a piercing sapphire that usually hold a, unwavering, steely gaze.

  physique

  Elon's body has been honed from years of training and survival. His muscles are well defined―not hulking or making him appear stocky. His arms and pectorals are where most of his power lies, allowing him to swing his sword with extreme precision and speed. His body also reflects the many battles and skirmishes he's been in as well. Sword, dagger and fire has left various marks and ranging in severity that he wears with pride. The worst is a swollen, pink line running from his collarbone to his naval that was almost the end of him if it had cut any deeper. The smallest one is a shiny sliver on his bottom lip from a scuffle he lost to his older sister when they were younger.

  Ailments

  While his body is healthy as an ox, the boy sometimes suffers from depressive swings that come at random and can linger for days at a time. He tries to hide these periods of melancholy, especially since he's a man and shouldn't have such "womanly fits" as his father says. He'll usually get on his horse and vanish for days at a time under the pretense of a solo hunting trip, yet always returns empty handed.

  Intelligence

  As a lord of the house, Elon was trained in warfare to politics by the best teachers money could buy. He was much more interested in running around outside than listening to old nasally voices in the stuffy library go on and on, but as he grew up he had a better appreciation of knowledge.

  face claim

  Bradley James in Merlin.

  stars

  sam airey
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  likes

  Like most men, the thrill of the hunt, horseback riding, and fighting is the main thrills of life. Elon was never really interested in the killing, but moreso the way he felt in control and had a purpose. He likes feeling useful and being good at a variety of things. Unknown to most, he has a special spot for the arts. His grandmother taught him the lyre and passed hers onto him when she died, which he keeps above his bed and refuses to touch it himself nor others. His singing voice is quite nice, yet he only entertains himself with it on solo trips or when extremely drunk.
  
  He thoroughly enjoys adventuring and travel, and longs to see the world no matter how bad. Different cultures and people from all across Westeros intrigue him and he does his best to learn about them.
  
  
  
  

  dislikes

  Even in the unfair and cruel world, Elon has a strong sense of right and wrong and dislikes those who align themselves with the evil in the world. He tries his best to uphold justice and is quick to challenge those who contend him. He doesn't enjoy people trying to get into his space or being pushy, but as a lord he has learned it comes with the title. Those who speak ill of his sister, especially referring to the possibility of being a bastard, always illicit a rare outburst from the man.
  
  
  
  
  
  

  personality

  Elon's personality changed drastically after the death of his eldest sibling, Tacticus. As a child he was rambunctious and carefree, and quite the brat. With two older siblings to take on the responsibilities of the house, Elon was nothing more than a demanding and chaotic force that bullied those below him and thought nothing of others. As he matured into a young man, his moral compass began to form and his rebellious nature soon was snuffed out as he shifted into the role of a lord. He still had his devilish charm and golden boy looks which he often brandished many a time with the girls in court despite his arranged betrothal and he soon was known as a bit of a dog.
  
  
  
  His brother was always his role model, and seeing his dedication to his family helped shape Elon. However, the tragic loss of Tacticus sent the family into a dark place as they all tried to cope with the loss of the glue that bound the family together. Bethany had issues of her own that got worse and often caused her to lash out at her younger brother, and her self serving nature left their father quite worried about their future and how the other houses would see them. Elon realized he had to step up to the plate and finally relinquish in full the childish act. Paired with the immense responsibilities and loss of his brother, Elon was a new man, and almost a spitting image of Tacticus. He became quiet and solitary, slow to speak and fiercely protective of the family he had left. He didn't confide in others, and preferred to be his own company. As he got older, the weight on his shoulders never lessened nor did his mental state ever feel like it was improving. He always felt like he was lacking in some aspect, that he wasn't ever going to be good enough in the eyes of his father. He thrust himself into battle after battle and delegated affairs just how his father and brother had taught him, but it felt like nothing ever changed. He got more and more reckless as he kept trying to prove his worth, and this nearly cost him his life many times. But that fear of death stopped bothering him, and during the worst of his depressive states when he's on his excursions away from the eyes of his family and citizens, he often considers not coming back.
  
  
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  background

  Elon was a healthy baby boy, his first cries bouncing down the hallway as he announced his arrival into the world. "A cry of a lion." His father had said, his chest swelled with pride. He was an energetic child, quite bright but too full of energy to ever be able to be in one place, especially inside, for too long. He excelled at swordsmanship and archery, and his father took great pride in showing his young son's talent off and watching the other fathers seethe with jealousy as Elon bested their children. While his oldest brother was already a serious and studious teenager, Elon and his sister were constantly at each other's throats as their rambunctious natures clashed despite their father's scolding.
  
  When he was 10, his father finally disclosed the fact about the engagement that had already been in place for a decade. Girls were nothing at that point yet, and Elon didn't know or care what his father was talking about. When they met for the first time, the boy wasted no time bullying her until his father dragged him away by his ear and prayed the girl's father didn't get wind of it. When they met again, he was 15 and finally starting to fill into the role of a lord of the Lannister house. They were nothing more than children, but he finally saw the beauty and kindness he hadn't been able to notice before. As their fathers spoke business, all he could focus on was Eleara.
  
  The following year, news of the canceled engagement made its way to his father who flew into a rage, and Elon felt disappointment that never quite faded. Once you saw a Targaryen princess, other women paled in comparison. However, bigger concerns than a failed engagement soon struck the Lannisters. Tacticus had died.
  
  
  
  His older brother had been a caring figure, one who had helped guide Elon as the two brothers prepared themselves for their futures. The family was devastated, and they all mourned in different ways. Despite his sorrow, Elon knew he had to step up to the plate as the only male heir, and so he took it upon himself to become the great man his brother wanted him to be. While his sister was out and about, Elon made sure he was present for meetings regarding their city and his trainings. He poured himself into his work, and when that wasn't enough he turned to the battlefield. He won battle after battle, engaging in the planning and actual execution. He spent years locked in this pointless cycle of trying to earn his father's approval, which soon turned into him thinking nothing he did was good enough. His nights were lonely, he felt like a ghost in the giant castle that rarely had laughter or joy. His sister was a comfort and brought some joy into his life, but he wasn't as lively as he was in the past and his silent nature irked and bored her. He soon began to exhibit periods of sadness and he would often feel like everything was bearing down upon him at once with no purpose. His actions are futile and useless, and his longing for how things used to be intensified. If he moped around the castle, his father would suddenly find the time to pay him attention for the sole purpose of chastising and demeaning him, so he often took off on his horse to stew in his misery in the comfort of the forest.
  
  Eventually, Elon took off and didn't return for a long time. It had grown too much, and so he left a note and was gone in the morning. At first he had no idea where he was going, just wanted to be far away. He finally experienced true hunger, relying on nothing but his skills to keep him fed. He was dirty and had cricks in his neck and aches in his back and butt from riding, and the coins in his purse started running low. He lived poor and desolate for a year working odd jobs here and there, content with the lifestyle until his journey of self discovery made him aware of what he had left behind. He had deprived his family of one less member, and despite his feelings he was still a Lannister and was needed even if he felt he wasn't. He realized his mistake, but knew he had to do something big to make up for his actions. If he survived, he was worthy not only to return home but was worthy in his own eyes. Elon turned his sights towards the Valyrian Peninsula, and began his journey to find the sword his uncle had lost many years ago—Brightroar. It took a year of gathering clues, fighting off monsters and assassins alike, trickery and deceit, and fighting the gut feeling of hopelessness. He finally reclaimed it from a treasure-seeker and almost lost his life in the skirmish, but he had done it.
  
  
  
  Months later, Elos returned to Casterly Rock with the ancestral sword and a newfound confidence. HIs father was extremely relieved and pleased to see him again, and bade his son to wield Brightroar instead of returning it to the treasury. Elon learned and saw much on his travels and has flourished into a man, and is now heeding the call of the Iron Throne.
  
  

coded by natasha.

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Winter is Coming

BASICS
full name
Brandon Robert Stark

nickname (optional)
"The Grey Wolf," "Robbie" to his friends

age
42

birthday (the current year is 281)
239

gender
Male

house
Stark

titles
Lord of House Stark, Lord Paramount of the North

religion
The Old Gods

RELATIONS
parents
Torrhen Stark II (Father, deceased)

Ellaria Stark (Mother, Deceased)

spouse
Arianna Stark Nee Arryn(Deceased)

siblings
Harren

offspring [everything after here is optional]
Ashlynn Stark (Oldest Child)

Trystan Stark (Second Child)

Maerie Snow (Youngest Child

affairs
A brief one with a servant of his named Darlessa

relatives
TBD

factions
The North, Rebels

friends
TBD

allies
The Tyrell's, Targaryen's

enemies
TBD

nemesis
TBD

APPEARANCE

height/weight
6'0, 185 lbs.

notable characteristics
A large scar running perpendicular to his face on his left cheek

MENTAL
ailments
Severe PTSD and Survivor's Guilt

intelligence
Above average. He isn't a super genius but he has his moments of genius

PERSONALITY
personality
Brandon is much like many of his predecessors. Quiet, stoic, slow to anger and quick to calm down. But unlike other Stark's, there's something...off about him. His grey eyes are...distant, as if he's not fully here. It's hard for him to stay in the present and it shows. Sometimes he'll just...drift off, his eyes glazing over as he gets lost in his own mind. That being said, his flaws have rarely ever got in the way of his duties to his family. Brandon loves his family. Even if the death of his wife following the he birth of their last child haunts him, he has done absolutely everything he could to bring them up well, spending as much of his time personally teaching them how to succeed him. Despite his family's propensity for honor, it doesn't mean as much to the Grey Wolf. He keeps his promises, he protects his people, but if it means protecting the people who depend on him. The people of thr North, the retainers under him, his children, he will do it, no question. Honor means nothing to corpses, a cruel lesson he had to learn early in life.

likes
-Archery

-Horseback riding

-Mountains

-Snow

dislikes
-Heat

-Rain

-Traitors

weaknesses
-He can be easily swayed by threatening his children

-Often overbearing and overprotective

-His own mind. He hates himself, doubts himself, wishes he were someone else.

COMBAT

skills
Swordplay

Horseback riding

Archery

Jousting (Very basic knowledge, he's awful at it)

weaknesses
-His age. He's not exactly a spring chicken anymore.

-1 on 1 combat. He was trained as a soldier rather then a duelist, so he struggles in more honorable battles.
weapons
BIOGRAPHY
Lord Brandon Stark was never actually meant to be a Lord. He was born the second child of Torrhen and Ellaira Stark, born six years after his older brother. Most would at least have a few good childhood memories, and Brandon does, but his childhood all but ended on his tenth name day. Just a few days prior, his older brother had turned 16, and a banquet had been held in celebration at Karhold, ruled over by Teagan Karstark, Torrhen's first cousin. What was once a joyful celebration soon turned to a bloodbath, as Teagan attempted to seize control of the North by wiping out the House of Stark. And he was almost successful. The only surviving Stark from that night, now known as the Black Banquet, was Brandon, whisked away by the house guard back to Winterfell. Brandon was never the same. The sight of his family drowning in a pool of their own blood would haunt him for years.

The Karstark Rebellion would be a long and bloody one that ripped the North asunder. It lasted for almost ten years, killing thousands and breaking alliances formed centuries ago. In a desperate attempt to bring an end to the war, a now eighteen year old Brandon went to make an alliance with an old friend of his father's, the Lord of House Arryn. The man was more than happy to help out the son of Torrhen. But on one condition: he was to marry his daughter, Arianna. Brandon, just wanting to end the bloodshed, reluctantly agreed, and with their union came Knights of the Vale that swiftly crushed the Rebellion in just a year. Now, just nineteen years old, Brandon rose to become Lord of Winterfell.

The next few decades was possibly the best time in Brandon's life. Arianna was a wonderful woman. Strong, intelligent, loving. And she brought them three wonderful children. But with all things in Brandon's life, that too ended. A plague was spreading through the North following the birth of their third child. Arianna always had a weak constitution, despite her willful personality, and she was unable to fight the disease following a difficult childbirth. So, Arianna died, leaving Brandon all alone in raising their children. He laid her to rest on the family crypt, alongside his mother, father, and brother, a single hawk feather placed on her tomb, in memory of the gift her father had given him on their wedding day.

He completely changed after the event, growing more and more distant from.his peers and much more focused on his children. The pressure of living up to his wife's memory ate away at him, torturing his every action. It didn't help when the Rebellion broke out. Brandon, my now, had grown sick of the politics in Westeros. He was sick of the backstabbing, the opportunism, and this was just another problem he didn't have to worry about. This was a Southroner problem, far away from the frigid cold of the North. And after all, he wasn't at all forced to pick a side. He had fears his in laws in the Vale would join a side and pressure him to side with them, but luckily they tried to stay neutral just like him. So as Westeros burned, Brandon tended to his people.

That was, until, the Frey's came.

No one is quite sure what exactly happened at the Battle of the Neck. The Frey's say a peaceful delegation to Winterfell was ambushed and slaughtered by crannogmen, the Reed's claim the "delegation" was comprised solely of soldiers. Either way, it was a slaughter, and none of that mattered. Because now the war was making it's way to the North's doorstep. The Neck had served as a shield for the North for centuries, completely unbroken. But how long would that last? Yes the dragons were gone, but what if they were to return? Images of the possible destruction those beasts could cause raced through Brandon's mind. So, against his better judgement, he threw in his lot with the Rebels. He didn't hate the Targaryen's, nor did he love them. He chose his side simply because they were winning. And win they did, at the cost of many of Brandon's men. Luckily, his son was unharmed. But once again, Brandon found himself at the head of another war, this time as a rebel. The sight of King's Landing disgusted the aging Stark, as did the subsequent slaughter than ensued. Suddenly he felt guilt. He remembered how it felt to lose his family. Now, he had done the same to the Targaryens, as mad as they may be. He did not join in on the celebrations, nor did he stay for the coronation of the new king. He gathered his men and headed North, as cold and bitter as the lands they called home.

Now he's beginning to enter the twilight of his life. He remembered when he was younger. They called him "The Black Wolf," both in remembrance of the treachery he survived, and for the deep black hair that sat upon his head. But now he was getting old. That black hair was going grey, which only led to a new title. "The Grey Wolf." Brandon has many regrets in his life. Things he wishes he could change. But he is a Stark, through and through. His duty comes first, and he won't fail them ever again.​

 

[tamarapasek]

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  lyarra.

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  I suspect I would not have a disinterest if I were naturally proficient

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  full name

  
  

  Lyarra Tyrell

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Nicknames

  
  

  Ly, More to come

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Age

  
  

  18

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Birthday

  
  

  December 28, 263

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Gender

  
  

  Cis-Female

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  House

  
  

  Tyrell

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Titles

  
  

  N/A

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Religion

  
  

  Faith of the Seven

  
  

  
  

  
  
  too!!!------>
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  appearance

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair style

  
  

  Long, dark brown curls worn loose around her face. Occasionally in a bun, she enjoys weaving flowers and such into her locks when allowed

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  modifications

  
  

  Pierced earlobes.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  physique

  
  

  A medium, leaning towards smaller figure, Lyarra looks just about her age, though she doesn't show near enough interest in seduction to use her looks to her potential. She does wish some parts were smaller and others bigger, but such is life. There's nothing a good dress can't conceal, and lack of curves is one of them.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  attire

  
  

  Typical fancy dresses and things. She has an eye for the finer more elegant designs with flowers, although if necessary she's not above dressing in more common frocks.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  height

  
  

  5'3

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  weight

  
  

  113 lbs

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  eye colour

  
  

  Brown

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair colour

  
  

  Dark brown

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  personality

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Personality

  
  
  
  

  With a tight smile, and friendly demeanor, Lyarra is perhaps one of the most innocent sheltered girls in Westeros. Delighting quietly in the presence of other people, she silently follows around her siblings, parents, and even the servants while she does her tasks so that she'll never have to be alone in a room. Too awkward to say much in front of strangers, she showcases affection by simply staying present and hanging around the other parties. Other than that, she doesn't talk much, for fear of saying something wrong, as she understands how truly powerful words can be. Beneath the silence and coy nature, she's a rather naive girl, who can be easily manipulated into thinking goodwill on those who put the effort into her.

  
  
  
  
  

  Likes

  
  
  
  

  Reading silly romance novels
  Handicrafts
  Walking around Highgarden
  Food
  Rain
  

  
  
  
  
  

  Dislikes

  
  
  
  

  Pressure
  Hunting
  Small talk
  Blood
  Solitude

  
  
  
  

  Weaknesses

  
  
  
  

  Naive
  Physically Weak
  Gullible
  Pushover
  Awkward
  Indecisive

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  background

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  early life

  
  

  
  

  So begins the story of one of the silliest little twits in Highgarden.

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  later life

  
  

  
  

  
  When Lyarra, youngest of 3 was born, the girl was spoiled rotten even from birth. With a built in playmate in her sister who was only a year apart from her, she spent her younger days trailing around the place with a doll in hand, just sitting and staring at anyone she saw in her own odd way. She was an uncharismatic child, often lacking the proper words to express her desires. After all it was rare for her to desire anything she couldn't demand wordlessly when she was young, so how could she learn to do it now? Staring, and attempting to be coy and subtly ask for wishes was a method she'd perfected through trial and error.
  
  Though she loved her parents dearly, she wasn't exactly the best at cultivating a relationship with them. Love was not expressed through words for her but accomplishments. Being the most talented, most obedient girl in Highgarden was how she loved. And that was the habit. To do what was asked with no comment to express that sort of love.
  
  It was her siblings who Lyarra felt a true kinship to though she sometimes wondered if they felt the same. Her second eldest sibling in particular, was her cloest frined and the one Ly envied the most. How could she not? With beauty grace and social smarts it surprised nobody that being dutiful and good at embroidery wasn't all so relevant
  
  As she grew older, she developed a sort of friendship with a daughter of a maid. Through the daughter, she learned of the existence of romance novels. Tales of dashing men and beautiful princesses and true love. Due to her suspicion that her parents wouldn't enjoy their daughter's head being filled with sentimental things like that instead of pragmaticism when selecting a partner she had decided to keep her mouth shut. To this day she hides all the book she was lent in her cupboards, switching where it is every so often.
  
  It was a welcome fantasy. She'd been told to keep her guard up, always remember to play the game and things like that. She longed for a life which the books presented. Where she'd never have to measure words or wonder if she ought to hide her desires. Those silly servant books became the reason she turned from a dutiful child to one with a secret she views as shameful.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  even later life

  
  

  
  

  If not reading in bed, she is most likely doing needlework or some other form of studies in front of her family.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

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  misc

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  MENTAL
  Ailments:
  N/A
  Intelligence:
  Fairly competent, especially in book smarts. When it comes to people she's rather sheltered for a Tyrell, lacking the natural shrewdness most of them possess. She does as she's told and has rarely had to think for herself her whole life
  COMBAT
  Skills: N/A
  Weaknesses:N/A
  Weapons: N/A
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  relationships

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Lord Tyrell

  
  
  
  

  Will discuss after reserved/plotting
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Lady Tyrell

  
  
  
  

  Will discuss after reserved
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Tyrell Sister

  
  
  
  

  Her dear sister who she adores. Though Lyarra is far less clever and adept at social sciences as her, the two sisters are great friends, and Lyarra will often ask if they can do their needlework or other tasks in the company of each other.
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Other Tyrell Sibling

  
  
  
  

  Will discuss after reserved
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

♡design by natasha., coded by uxie♡

 

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

BASICS
full name
Bethany Lannistar
nickname
Lady Hill (Insult, rare to do so to her face)
Beth
Red
age
28
birthday (the current year is 281)
Year 253
gender
Female
house
Lannister
titles
TBD (need help with that)
religion
New Gods (officially)
Athiest
RELATIONS
parents
Lady Cerene Lannister
Lord TBD Lannister (Disputed)
spouse
N/A
siblings
Elora- Younger Sister
Tacitus- Elder Borther (deceased)
affairs
Very many
relatives
TBD
factions
TBD
friends
TBD
allies
TBD
enemies
TBD
nemesis
TBD

APPEARANCE
See above
height/weight
5ft8in 55KG
notable characteristics
Scar on her left cheek

MENTAL
ailments
Borderline Personality Disorder
intelligence
High

PERSONALITY
personality
At first sight, she appears hedonistic and carefree, to her nothing is serious or sacred and the most important thing is finding her next pleasure as soon as possible. However this is an act, a mask she has build based on her reputation before her brother's death to make people underestimate her. Those that go against her soon find there is a highly intelligent and ruthless person behind her casual demeanour and flirtatious manner, everything she does usually have a reason and that principle it is the protection and improvement of her family. However, she is not perfect, a rough upbringing including being dogged by rumours of bastardy due to her red hair especially from her mother have left her a little unhinged, prone to paranoia and mood swings. Though she tries to keep herself controlled and measured, there are times were her mind get the better of her, and it can turn her against those closest to her.

likes​

• Wine​
• Alchemy​
• Scheming​
• Party
  dislikes​
• Mentions to her potential bastardy​
• Snow​
• chauvinism​
• Arranged Marriages.
  weaknesses​
• Paranoid​
• Her hedonism can sometimes can be used against her. Particularly when is comes to women​
• Mood swings can make her turn from charming to violent, even to those closest to her​

COMBAT
skills
Skilled with poisons use and alchemy
have some skill with a dagger and sword
weaknesses
A lover not a fighter
weapons
poison filled rings and necklaces
Dagger

BIOGRAPHY
The second born of the current head of the House of Lannister, Bethany's life was controversial from the word go. Born with the little red hair matching either parent, quickly rumoured when about that she was a bastard. Though both parents' insistence otherwise, the rumours persistent and the loss in prestige even if not intentional seemed to sour the parents' relationship with their child. She was raised mostly by the hired nanny only minor interaction with her parents, made worse by the birth of Elon a few years later focusing her parents' attention on her two brothers. The only member truly giving her any sort of attention was her eldest brother, Tacitus, with some mostly helping each other during their studies and adding some levity to long boring lessons.

Growing up in such an environment made her rebellious in her teen years. Particularly when she came of age when she was politically useful even as a potential bastard due to her gender. In her mind, if her parent were so against her growing up, why should she play along with their plans for their family? In any case no suitor they brought particularly appealed to her. If being ignored had any benefits, it was the fact she could indulge in things, like sleeping around, enjoy and drinks. Soon, rumours of her party girl nature became as wide spread as her bastardy, adding to the rift with her family. The rumors did not help relationships with others either, she would often see people pretend to be her friends and talk about her behind her backs and had been a victim of the games for power more than once. One such situation almost had her run a fowl of banditry, almost getting her killed or a slave somewhere outside Westeros. Only Tacitus quick intervention allowed her to survive with only a scar in her cheek. Since then she was determined not to be fooled again and worked to be proficient in intrigue.

The death of Tacitus was a devastating blow to the Lannister family, particularly to Bethany, who lost the only person she considered a true friend and trusted person. Her hedonistic ways only became worse to the point of self-destructive, and more than once she was found close to death. After one such event, her father came and had a word with her and both reached a certain uneasy peace, and she agreed that her house needed to survive, and she had to take care of her younger brother Elon. He was the heir of the family and the only future they had, though a capable fight and diplomat, he needed help when dealing with the intrigues of the iron throne. She would protect him for his own good if not for the family.

​

 

[eloise]

!

alerie

tyrell

BASICS

FULL NAME

Alerie Allyria Tyrell

AGE

19

DATE OF BIRTH

(April) 18 262

GENDER

Female

HOUSE

House Tyrell

TITLE(S)

Golden Rose of Highgarden

RELIGION

Faith of the Seven

__________________________________

RELATIONS

PARENTS

--- Tyrell, --- Tyrell

SPOUSE

None

SIBLINGS

Lyarra Tyrell, --- Tyrell

OFFSPRING

None

AFFAIRS

None

RELATIVES

N/A

FACTIONS

The Reach

FRIENDS

Elaera Targaryen

ALLIES

House Stark

ENEMIES

House Baratheon

NEMESIS

None

__________________________________

APPEARANCE

HEIGHT/WEIGHT

5'7 | 134 lbs

NOTABLE CHARACTERISTICS

A sly smile, 'I know what you did' gaze
__________________________________

MENTAL
ALIMENTS

None

INTELLIGENCE

Alerie is one that considers herself to be intelligent, after all the smartest person in the room isn’t always the loudest. She has the ability to take everything in, seeing that others missed, like subtle patterns. Rather than being rigid and worrying about something that's out of her control, Alerie remains mentally flexible, open-minded, and can easily adjust to life, no matter what gets thrown her way. She does things with a purpose, she doesn't just ask a bunch of questions for the sake of asking questions. She does so in order to gain insight that can help her better understand what she's doing, thinking, feeling, and anticipating.
__________________________________

PERSONALITY
​

Alerie asks the right questions, draws the right pictures, and says the right words. By this, meaning she never regrets not asking someone that question she's had on the tip of her tongue or finds herself regretting not being more observant, she adapts well to new or difficult situations and she's able to think creatively. Socially graceful is what many describe Alerie as. A graceful person, in the first sense, is one who is unruffled, someone who can deal with trials and tribulations without breaking step. And a social person is someone who can speak with different kinds of people with ease and they use feelings, words, and ideas to work with people rather than physical activity to do things. Like butterflies dancing among the flowers, and that's exactly who Alerie is. She isn't often seen blowing up at people, saying things she knows she'll regret, or hurling furniture through windows. She's composed and doesn't let other people get to her and she knows when to take a breather if she feels herself getting angry. They aren’t seen ranting and raving or hurling insults at people, either. Alerie tends to be a bastion of serenity when others need her.

LIKES

Winter roses
Dancing
Gossiping (Secretly)
Sweets
Music

DISLIKES

Unpleasant smells
Bloodshed
Death
Horrible schemes
Chaos

WEAKNESSES

Vengefulness
Perfectionist
Prideful
Stubbornness

​

You, Alerie Tyrell, were an unexpected pregnancy. After suffering through a series of several miscarriages and stillborn births your mother, Lady Tyrell was despondent in her hopes that she'd ever produce another child ever again yet then you came along. Parties, feasts, festivities, every celebration known to man was thrown once news of your existence spread outside of Highgarden and into every inch of the castle. It was said that you were a blessing from the Seven, a gift from the gods themselves. 10 months later and you were born. The entire process was difficult for Lady Tyrell but she persisted. Her hard effort soon paid off as one of the midwives handed her a blooded babe. She cradled your newborn self within her arms, gazing down at you lovingly.

Fortune isn’t without misfortune, however. Because just a little over your first month in this world you fell terribly ill. Rumors quickly spread that you wouldn’t survive till the next season, the worse being that you had already succumbed to the sickness. Your mother was by your side day and night. She swore to the Seven that she would not lose another child, her daughter was only a month old. Why be so cruel and try to snuffle a newly lit light? Lady Tyrell called healers, doctors, or just about anyone with sufficient medical knowledge from all over the Seven Kingdoms, even reaching as far as the North. She had no care for how much the price would be. If she did she’d be putting the wealthy Tyrell family to shame.

It was a wandering sage that saved you. At first, your mother was cautious, practically hovering over the sage as he applied some sort of green salve onto your feverish forehead. Though when you actually showed signs of recovering she was overjoyed and went to profusely thank the sage but it was found he had disappeared into the night leaving behind only a ring and an open window. For the next thirteen years, your life was relatively uneventful; the only really interesting things happening were your name days and occasional visits to King's Landing.

The Golden Rose of Highgarden was a title you earned on your sixteenth name day, the story behind it was a curious one. Oldtown had run into a nasty problem. Redspots. This disease wasn't incurable nor particularly deadly. Only red dots that appeared on the victims face and body with an itching sensation. Not deadly.. for people who had past contracted the disease in their adolescence. Adults who never fell ill with redspots during infancy were susceptible to death should they catch the sickness.

In fear of it spreading, almost all trade in the city had ceased, children were orphaned and left wandering the streets to starve and paranoia was high. As tragic as it was, your eyes saw it as a matter of convenience. You pleaded with your parents to send healers, medicine, and food for the unfortunate souls in your name. They were confused mostly because Oldtown had nothing to do with the Tyrells and the Hightowers could easily deal with such ongoings.

To this, you only said one word. ‘Smallfolk.' It seemed like a simple word but that one word held much power. Perhaps many might not realize this but gaining the love and support of those below you in rank could greatly benefit you in a matter of things. And your plan worked. In a matter of days, the name Alerie Tyrell could be heard and talked about with praises and appreciation. It was a wonderful sight, for you at least. Oldtown was just the beginning. You wanted to be loved across all of Westeros. You wanted to be recorded down in history as the most adored woman in all of the Seven Kingdoms. So may the Seven help anyone who dared stand in your way because your story was just unraveling.

__________________________________​

♡design by neon reverie, coded by uxie♡

 

[MissPlastique]

Nymerion Martell
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
W.I.P
​

 

[a z u l a]

• .
• .

• Even a thousand armies couldn't help you now, see I've come to burn your kingdom down.

  Morrigan Targaryen

  enter
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  • play with fire

    sam tinnesz

    0:00

    3:01

    vitals

    morrigan viella targaryen.

    "mor".

    17

    264 AC

    female.

    house targaryen.

    princess. princess of ash. the silver flame. the dragonstorm.

    religion: faith of the seven
  • visage

    height

    5'4.

    weight

    120 lbs.

    hair

    
    Silver waves reach to about her mid-back and are almost always pulled back into intricate braids.
    
    

    eyes

    
    Morrigan's eyes are a strange mix of light periwinkle and silver.
    
    

    physique

    
    Morrigan is about average height with a slim, feminine build. Her skin is the typical Targaryen pale to match her hair and smooth like silk.
    
    

    distinguishable features

    
    Morrigan has the trademark Targaryen features, silver hair, purple eyes, and porcelain skin.
    
    

    face claim

    
    Freya Mavor.
    
  • likes

    
    the moon, stargazing, fire, horse-back riding, tea, learning from her brothers, Elaera, fresh meat.
    
    

    dislikes

    
    early mornings, the Baratheon, being told no, stale food, disrespect, being away from her sister, tradition, misogyny, unfairness.
    
    

    strengths

    
    Passionate, strength, resolve, determination, strategic.
    
    

    weaknesses

    
    Impulsive, stubborn, rash, short tempered.
    
    

    ailments

    
    A touch of the Targaryen madness. PTSD from her family's brutal murder.
    
    

    intelligence

    
    Being a royal, Mor is more intelligent than most of the general population. She wouldn't call herself exceptionally smart, but she has learned the art of strategy and is quite good at manipulation tactics.
    

    Morrigan's biggest strength is her resolve and determination, she is willing to do anything and everything to achieve her goals. No one can stop her once she sets her mind on something, she is as stubborn as a bull and has the heart of a dragon.
    
    She truly has no fear, willing to die for her own cause or kill anyone who stands in her way. This makes her a fearsome enemy, but it also makes her unhinged and will be her downfall when she doesn't weigh the consequences of her actions.
    
    The youngest and most difficult Targaryen, Mor was often ignored by her family, leading her to act out even more to gain her parents attention, even if it was for misbehaving.
    
    The only member of her family who really paid attention to her was her elder sister, Elaera. The oldest Targaryen daughter was the only thing Morrigan clung to, an independent little girl who refused help unless it was from her sister. The two are very close and Morrigan has learned everything about being a proper princess from her, though she doesn't always act like it.
    
    Mor has always been difficult, intense, and stubborn, but she was still always a sweet girl. She could always be heard giggling through the halls with her sister, braiding flower crowns together and baking pastries. She was known for being a kind girl among the Targaryen servants, playing with the servants children even when her parents told her not to, because the other royal children were too "boring" for her to play with.
    
    The murder of her entire family has brought out a different side of her, something dark that has always been boiling beneath the surface.
    
    

    mind

    mythos

    childhood

    Born the second daughter of King Aerys II Targaryen and Queen Rhaella, Morrigan's life was supposed to be easy. However, Morrigan herself was far from an easy baby, developing a collick and crying through all hours of the night her first year.
    
    The youngest and most difficult of the Targaryen children, Mor was often ignored by her parents. They already had four sons and a perfect daughter to marry off to strengthen their alliances, Morrigan was simply an extra daughter to marry off. Though their house was filled with five children and endless servants, it was still a lonely place.
    
    Luckily, Morrigan always had her older sister Elaera. Even when their father was off terrorizing the kingdom, their mother locked away, and their brothers off doing their princely duties, the two princesses always had each other.
    
    The two sisters often got into trouble, sneaking around where they shouldn't be and requesting to learn to fight just like their brothers. However, where Elaera would always apologize and appease their parents, Morrigan continued her rebelliousness with no regard for consequences.
    
    One day, after trying to sneak into her father's war room, King Aerys found her and accused her of betraying him and their people. She tried to explain that she had just wanted to see what her father was always so busy doing that kept him away from his children, but the paranoid King didn't believe her, striking her across the face and locking her in her room for a month.
    
    

    teenage years

    Her teenage years were even worse, with her mother almost permanently locked away, her brother dead, and on top of it all, Elaera was about to become a Lannister. When Mor had first been told of the canceled wedding, she had been elated. She had always dreaded the day her sister would be married off and sent to live with another family.
    
    That excitement was short lived, as King Aerys was now beyond paranoid and locked his oldest daughter away. With only her remaining brothers and insane father left, Morrigan was more alone than ever. She begged her brothers to teach her the same things they were learning, now that her only friend was locked away in her room she was bored out of her mind.
    
    Eventually her middle brother gave in, secretly teaching the youngest princess some combat strategy and training her the basics in using a sword. Morrigan had always watched her brothers and the other men training, so she picked up on the techniques rather quickly. Each time she mastered a skill she pestered her brother to teach her more, and while a few years ago he would've said no, things were changing around the Targaryen household.
    
    All the Targaryen's had noticed their father's decent into madness and her brothers were worried for both her and Elaera, deciding that teaching Morrigan a few things about battle wouldn't hurt anyone. Her brother even took her on a hunting trip once while their father was away to teach her how to survive on the land, in case the worst came to worst and she and Elaera had to survive on their own.
    
    

    present

    The mad king had finally gone too far, holding burning at the stakes on almost a daily basis, making an enemy out of everyone in Westros. Sixteen year old Morrigan was forced to watch peasants and nobles alike burned at the stake, the smell of burnt flesh ingrained into her senses, along with their screams.
    
    It was like living a nightmare, Morrigan avoided her father as much as possible and clung to her middle brother as much as she could. She hid in her room to avoid the constant feeling of dread, trying to read to pass the time but most often ending up pacing across the floor.
    
    On the morning of her father's murder, her middle brother woke her up in a panic, telling her in a hushed voice that she needed to run. He handed her a spare sword and told her to take Elaera and run. The youngest Targaryen stepped across bloodied bodies as she sprinted towards Elaera, however, when Morrigan reached her sister's room both she and the guards were gone. Unsure whether her sister had abandoned her or been killed, Morrigan fled the castle grounds and ran through the thick forest, unsure where she would go now.
    
  • gallery

    PARENTS: King Aerys II Targaryen and Queen Rhaella Targaryen.
    SPOUSE: None yet.
    SIBLINGS: Three deceased older brothers, and her older sister Elaera.
    OFFSPRING: None yet.
    AFFAIRS: None.
    RELATIVES: the Martells (their daughter married her elder brother, Daeron).
    FRIENDS: Elaera, open.
    ALLIES: House Stark(?), The Martells (?), The Velaryons, open to more allies
    ENEMIES: House Baratheon.
    NEMESIS: Open.
    
    Skills:
    Morrigan is a surprisingly good leader, able to improve team moral and rally them for a cause.
    
    She is also an expert at horse-back riding.
    
    She is deceivingly good at strategy and combat for a princess, due to her brother's lessons.
    
    Weaknesses:
    Her small stature and limited training make her weaker than most men and easy to physically overpower.
    
    The Targaryen madness makes her unstable, meaning she is willing to risk it all without considering the consequences of her actions.
    
    Weapons:
    One of her older brother's swords that she managed to save from the chaos of the dethroning of the Targaryen's. She has been carrying it around to feel closer to him, and also in the case that she runs into a Targaryen enemy.
    
    

    additional info

coded by natasha.

 

[uwupolice]

elaera targaryen

" my skin has turned to porcelain,
to ivory, to steel "

• .
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• .

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  full name

  elaera targaryen, first of her name

  nicknames

  ela, bunny

  age

  nineteen

  date of birth

  the 20th day of the second moon, 262 AC

  gender

  female

  religion

  faith of the seven

  house

  house targaryen

  titles/aliases

  princess, princess of the seven kingdoms, the last dragon princess, the hidden beauty, the silver princess, the gentle dragon, the dragon lily.. and a plethora of mean aliases
• i

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  height & weight

  5'0, 115lbs

  hair

  Her silver locks descend past her hips and are usually pulled up into a stylish bun with stray hairs framing her oval face.

  eyes

  Her doe eyes, the color of periwinkle, further accent how dainty and innocent she appears. Said eyes are framed by long, pale lashes.

  physique

  Elaera has more of a slimmer, mesomorph build with a pear-shaped figure. Her skin is fair and bears little to no blemishes - other than a mole/”beauty mark” resting below her left eye.

  notable physical traits

  Elaera is known for her soft appearance and Valyrian beauty. Another unique thing about her is that she formed an ear deformity called (in today's terms) Stahl's ear. This wasn't noticed by anyone until after the Red Priest left.

  face and voiceclaim

  All art belongs to wlop! Elaera is from a character they have made for their comic, Ghostblade! Her voice is akin to Emma Watson's

  ailments

  Nothing diagnosed. It is said that when a Targaryen is born, the Gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.. Hopefully, none of the remaining Targaryen children will be afflicted with the renowned Targaryen madness.

  intelligence

  Elaera is quite intelligent, partially "thanks" to her father keeping her mainly in her chambers and certain areas of the Red Keep. Since Elaera wasn't able to experience life as any other child (even royal children), she stuck her nose in books as escape and solace. She does have her spacey moments at times, but she’d make an excellent Queen if that was in her cards.

  reflections

  toshifumi hinata
• i

  ii

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  likes

  painting, learning something new, you probably, early morning dew on the grass, getting to know the people of her kingdom, sweets & spices, exploring, reading, herbs
  
  

  dislikes

  
  displeasing / disappointing others, injustice, war/any sort of violence, the feeling of being trapped, the thought of being married off to someone she doesn't love
  
  

  strengths + weaknesses

  + creative, compassionate, artistic, strategic, clear morals, herbal and medicinal knowledge, intelligence
  - physically weak, no combat knowledge, indecisive, tendency to overthink, sometimes too curious for her own good, a bit naive

  personality

  
  Elaera was always seen as this dainty flower. Poised, soft-spoken, humble, and to be the ideal princess of the Seven Kingdoms (and eventual wife of some noble). She was almost molded to perfection - but it hasn’t always been that way.
  
  Elaera has always been a curious child, which led to her getting in trouble a lot. She snooped where she shouldn't have and had a tireless taste for something new: adventure. It also sparked her creativity and led her into partaking in art and a variety of other hobbies that never lasted long. As she grew older, and her father slipped more into madness, this began to fade out and her curiosity and creativity were halted to a stop.
  
  She's a sweet and true soul, down to earth, and welcoming to all. She wants to be the type of princess that is there for her people and that will fully listen to them. Her charisma helps a lot with this, even being able to influence her parents and older siblings when she was younger. She also has a problem with injustice. She loathed when her father made a cruel decision and especially hated when the grips of insanity dragged him down. When she was younger, she’d probably try to do something about it... But she learned the hard way that she shouldn’t do that and it wasn’t her place. From there on, she tried to remain ‘neutral’ and attempted to please everyone and listen to her father.
  
  Elaera can be a bit.. spacey. it kinda links up with her perceptiveness and curiousness. She gets deep in her thoughts, off in her own world - usually when she shouldn't be. She picks up on a lot. The littlest of gestures, the slightest of movement, how that painting is tilted a little to the left - she'll dwell on it, point it out, or just continue to observe and act accordingly. Fortunately for her, some just view it as ‘philosophical pondering’. However, her spaciness can lead to just outright indecisiveness. She'll ponder too much on one thing and will be completely unsure on what to pick/conclude on.
  Some other downfalls about her are that she's rather gullible and overly trusting. If you're her friend, she'll trust you. No doubt. If you're even closer to her? Then you'd one hundred percent never lie to her.. right? Even if you happened to break her trust or lie to her, the perpetrator wouldn't see much - at first.
  
  She's very slow to show negative feelings. She just wants to be seen as this kind, fair princess that cares for her kingdom, but isn’t too opinionated and isn’t too soft-spoken. She hates showing anyone that she's not okay. She was taught to be a "perfect" princess and that's what she was set on being. She's rather reclusive/secretive when it comes to her true feelings and anything romantic. She'll just try to brush it off and bottle it up until it'll eventually explode.. and she rarely explodes. For romance, she just gets extremely flustered.
  
  
  
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  relations

  
  PARENTS: King Aerys II Targaryen and Queen Rhaella Targaryen
  SPOUSE: Was betrothed to Elon Lannister, but her father canceled the marriage.
  SIBLINGS: Three deceased older brothers, and a younger sister, Morrigan
  OFFSPRING: None yet
  AFFAIRS: None
  RELATIVES: the Martells (their daughter married her elder brother, Daeron)
  FRIENDS: Morrigan, Alerie Tyrell, Elon Lannister
  ALLIES: House Stark(?), The Martells (?), The Velaryons, open to more allies
  ENEMIES: Everyone who hates the Targaryens (though she doesn't really consider them an enemy)
  NEMESIS: Open
  
  

  biography

  
  Elaera is the first living daughter of King Aerys II Targaryen and Queen Rhaella. From the start, it seemed obvious that the girl was going to grow up happy, loved, and very privileged.
  
  On the day of her birth, however, fear struck. Infant Elaera came out with skin nearly as blue as the sky. Instead of the wail of a newborn emitting from the princess, she was still. Quiet... But she was still breathing. The King and Queen quickly summoned the doctors, religious leaders, and.. other ‘healers’ of the land. Many were able to keep her living, but she still remained so frigid and quiet.
  After a couple of agonizing days, baby Elaera let out a cry. Her skin faded from a deathly blue to ivory, her pale-golden locks turning into a dark silver, akin to a steel blade. It’s not entirely known what the Red Priest did to her or the dangers they dipped into from this.. But, they saved the Princess’ life. The Priest became wealthy and even more renowned - but they left these lands and never returned.
  
  Growing up, nothing seemed to hinder her! She actually got into quite a bit of mischief and more than troubled her dear parents. Little Elaera refused to take classes on being a ‘lady’. She wanted to be like her father and fight with them! She wanted to brandish a sword alongside him and slay enemies! She would try to sneak out into the kingdom often, which would lead to her getting in trouble.
  
  However, that joyful childhood of playing with Alerie Tyrell in the garden, climbing on dragon skulls, and painting with her hands would quickly dissipate. Her dear mother kept having stillbirth after stillbirth, miscarriage after miscarriage. King Aerys, having shown peeks of his paranoia, grew suspicious of his wife. Was she being unfaithful? Was she getting poisoned? King Aerys thus separated the Queen from their children for long periods of time and have her watched at all times. He wanted to ensure that all of his children, even the girls, would be safe from any sort of plot.
  
  Despite the Kings measures, his youngest son, died due to an illness. In his rage, he beheaded his wet nurse and then decided to poison his mistress, thinking it was her fault as well. Shortly after that, The Defiance of Duskendale took place (277 AC). King Aerys began to get more insane by the day - and Elaera was beginning to notice it.
  Elaera has been betrothed to a Lannister boy since her birth, the Council thinking it'd be a good idea to help strengthen his relations. However, days before her 16th birthday, King Aerys canceled the betrothal. King Aerys believed that the Lannisters were going to turn his daughter against him. Or they were going to kill her. Or they would use her to get more power. Regardless of reasoning, Elaera was a bit relieved that she wasn't getting married off. That relief would quickly fade once her father ordered her to remain in her chambers and restricted her to certain areas of the castle. If she was to leave her chambers, she would be accompanied by at least three guards. Four guards stood outside her door and all of her windows were barred so no one could enter.
  Elaera was able to escape this imprisonment by nearly every book at her disposal. She used them as a means to leave this world and become someone else through reading. She used this to gain knowledge - whether it be useful or not. She used it as a way to pass time and distract herself, most importantly. Elaera also occupied her time with painting, music lessons, and studying/helping in the infirmary when her parents weren't aware.
  
  Although her mother tried to protect Elaera and her siblings from the horrendous things that her father has done, it would promptly reach them. King Aerys grew.. a 'fondness' to burning people alive. His passion for it and paranoia grew so obsessive that he had hundreds of staches of wildfire built and stored underneath all Kings Landing. With his future plot to burn all of King's Landing, and his constant slaughterings (of commoners and nobles alike), it began to have a heavy impact on Westeros.
  
  One day, King Aerys was found stabbed to death in his bed. It appeared that nearly everyone at Dragonstone was slaughtered and soon the rest of the Targaryens in Kings Landing. Luckily for Elaera, her guards were trustworthy. They knew Elaera to be a sweet soul that was nothing in comparison to her father. Since they knew of the assassination plots, they prepared themselves with the help of House Velaryon. As safely as possible, Elaera was escorted out of the chaotic palace and promptly put onto a ship with the Velaryons. Elaera protested and screamed and cried for her siblings and mother, but they would not look her in the eye. They couldn't bear to tell her that everyone's been killed - even her young niece and nephew.
  
  Now, still mourning and dazed, Elaera has arrived in a very foreign place - a place she never though she'd ever set foot in.
  
  

  writing sample

  [this is from an old rp ! ]
  
  Soft, periwinkle eyes peered into the ornate mirror hanging above the vanity, someone else's hands delicately weaving and curling her silver locks. Her gaze doubtedly studied her features, skimming over her rounded face and pale features... to her pouty lips and doe eyes.
  "Are you sure I don't need makeup to make myself look more... better..?" Elaera queried nervously, clasping her hands together and shifting in her seat.
  "Oh, hush child. First of all, it's not 'more better', it's just 'better'. Secondly, you're a fool to think that this Lannister boy won't fall head over heels for your womanly and youthful looks!" Her handmaiden scolded her, shaking her head in disapproval.
  "I- I knew that! I'm just flustered is all.." Elaera sighed, trailing off. "And you're just saying that because you're supposed to.. but thank you, Loddie." She managed a sheepish smile, trying to regain her positivity.. but she just felt so anxious! She knew of the Lannisters' reputation, attractive locks and looks.
  Loddie smacked her upside the head. "You're right, but I'm not lying to ya, ma'lady." Her handmaiden corrected, Elaera rubbing her head where she hit her. "Hey! Don't go putting your grubby hands there, princess! You're gonna mess it up!" Elaera laughed in response. "Maybe I want to mess it up!" She joked. It's nice to have someone like Loddie. She respected her but also put her in her place. She treated her.. not less than.. but more than a princess. Loddie treated her as if she were her own daughter. Her father would have an absolute cow if he ever saw how her handmaiden truly treated her - and she knew that as well. Her mother appeared to be indifferent, but there was indeed some lingering jealousy from the Queen.
  
  Pushing those thoughts away, Loddie finished up her hair. Her snowy locks curled down past her waist, two pulled back rope braids descending from the crown of her head. Her signature, thicker strands framed her face, brushing her ivory cheeks. Elaera gave herself a look over in the mirror, then smiling back to the older woman. "It's beautiful, Loddie. Thank you." She awed softly, looking back to her handmaiden. "Ah, don't thank me child. It's me job.. but.. you're welcome." She chuckled. "Alright! Time to get that dress on!" Loddie patted her shoulder, trying to move her along.
  Once Elaera stood and got in place, Loddie began to untie her dress, letting the silk slip to the floor. "Is your corset tight enough?" She asked. The silverette quickly nodded. "Please do not tighten it- I'd rather take it off than keep it as is." She puffed slightly, Loddie tsking. "You already know the answer to that, ma'lady." Loddie chuckled, grabbing her dress and throwing it over her.
  The material is smooth, like a mixture of silk and cotton. It has two layers - a white-creamy underlayer and then a baby blue top layer. Her mother thought that the color would be more welcoming instead of the hostile red. Plus, this shade of blue seemed to compliment her eyes.
  It's a rather modest and flattering dress - though it does expose her shoulders and a bit of cleavage. The collar is in the style of a choker, made out of a sheer, lace material that connected to her sleeves. Said sleeves were like massive wings that dipped to the floor and dragged along with the already existing train. Indeed, it's a bit excessive, but she did feel magical in it! Plus it's such a pretty dress.
  
  Elaera shifted, ogling at herself in the mirror. Her nerves were getting the best of her, but she was trying her best to remain level-headed. Loddie murmured words of encouragement, beginning to lead her to her carriage.
  Once reaching the open doors of the black carriage, she slid into the velvet seats and was soon joined by her ladies-in-waiting and mother. Knights and advisors would ride alongside the carriage. It'd be a couple hours before nightfall when she'd meet her fiance.
  
  -----
  
  After hours of random chatter, the muffled clops of hooves, and the occasional bumps, they entered the gates of Casterly Rock. Elearas digits dug into the skirts of her dress, her ladies-in-waiting giggling and murmuring about the Lannister boys..
  
  She swallowed.
  
  The carriages came to a rough halt.
  
  The doors opened and a man loudly announced the Targaryens entrance. Elaeras mother, the Queen, exited the carriage, followed by Elaera and her ladies in waiting. She clasped her hands together and smiled softly, her azure gaze dancing around the castle. Her eyes glided across the stone and gold, and then met with a sharp, sapphire gaze.
  

coded by natasha.

click here for the full gallery !​

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

BASICS
full name
Rylen Reed

nickname (optional)
"Frogman"

age
20

birthday (the current year is 281)
261

gender
Male

house
Reed

titles
Heir to Greywater Watch

religion
The Old Gods

RELATIONS
parents
Arvin Reed (Father)

Kylis Reed (Mother)

spouse
None
siblings
Dainis and Callith Reed (Twin Younger Siblings)

Terren Reed (Younger Brother)

Chlowee Reed (Younger Sister)

Kevven Reed (Youngest Brother)

offspring
None

affairs
Absolutely none

relatives
TBD

factions
House Reed, Rebels

friends
TBD

allies
TBD

enemies
TBD

nemesis
TBD

APPEARANCE


height/weight
5'4, 130 lbs.

notable characteristics
He has extremely sharp features

MENTAL
ailments
Uh, do Green Dreams count?

intelligence
Rylen's intelligence is a funny thing. Ask him about literature, poetry, any sort of intellectual endeavor, he can't tell you shit. But ask him about hunting, archery, fishing, and he has a near encyclopedic knowledge of it. He can prepare a fish in less than four minutes, or tell just by holding it what kind of wood a bow is made out of.

PERSONALITY
personality
Addam is...odd. He's not rude, oh no, he's anything but. He's polite, loyal, and a hard worker, if a bit quiet. But he has his...eccentricities. He's known for going on impromptu hunting trips, usually spurred by just seeing an animal from the castle. He once chased a rabbit for two whole days, coming back dirty, bloody, and a nice rabbit. That brings to mind his greatest flaw. It's not stubbornness it's...foolhardiness. he refuses to ever give up. Once he starts something, he's gonna see it through, consequences be damned. And despite his tendency for off the wall antics, he's oddly lacking a lot of agency, preferring to be told what to do over making his own choices.

likes
-Hunting

-Fishing

-Swimming

dislikes
-Reading (or at least being forced to)

-Dry places

-Heat

weaknesses
-Loyal to absolute fault

-Extremely pigheaded

COMBAT
skills (can be more than just combat related)
He's an excellent archer and tracker, owing to his upbringing in the Neck. He's also quite good with a spear.

weaknesses
He lacks much traditional training. He can't use a sword or ride a horse to save his life, and prefers using ambush tactics over direct combat.

weapons
-A bow

-The family frogspear

BIOGRAPHY
Rylen was born the oldest son of House Reed. While often looked down upon, they had possibly the most important duty in all of the North. They were the guardians of the Neck, and by extension the North. If the Reed's did not want you to pass, you wouldn't, stopping dozens of invasions in the past. Rylen was raised in the crannogs of the Neck, hunting alongside his subordinates as if he was one of them. He would have stayed here his entire life, had it not been for his father rushing to the aid of Lord Brandon Stark during the Karstark Rebellion. As thanks, Brandon took in Rylen as his personal ward and squire...as much of a squire as he could be.

He seemed an odd fit for Winterfell, and it took a lot of adjustment. He hated the dryness of the place, often preferring to stay in the cellar where it was damp. And he hated his studies, often sneaking out to practice archery. Soon, Brandon understood that it would ge best if the boy had a more...personalized education. From there, Rylen had s fine time with the Stark's, being raised as if he was one of them. Even as Lady Stark passed, he stayed with the family, always watchful over the wolves, just as his ancestors before him. During the war, he stayed in the Neck, guarding against anyone e threatening to drag the Nortj into the war. Ironically, this led to him leading a series of attacks on a Frey delegation that led to the North getting involved. Regardless, he's recently returned to Winterfell, continuing his duties as Brandon's squire and ward.​

 

[Virani]

Aaaannnnnddd done! ​

​

Ashlyn Ellaria Stark​

​

​

​

BASICS​

​

Full Name​

Ashlyn Ellaria Stark

​

Nickname​

Ash

​

Age​

21

​

Birthday​

260

​

Gender​

Female

​

House​

Stark

​

Titles​

She Wolf
Lady Archer

​

Religion​

The Old Gods

​

RELATIONS​

​

Parents​

Brandon Stark
Arianna Stark Nee Arryn (deceased)

​

Spouse​

None

​

Siblings​

Younger Brother: Trystan Stark (heir)
Half Sister: Maeri Snow

​

Offspring​

None

​

Affairs​

None

​

Relatives​

TBA

​

Factions​

The North

​

Friends​

TBA

​

Allies​

TBA

​

Enemies​

TBA

​

APPEARANCE​

​

Height/Weight​

5’9/152 lbs

​

Noteable Characteristics​

​

Physical Description​

Ashlyn is tall with a curvy bust and hips and a slender waist. She wears her reddish-brown hair long and often keeps it in a braid or several braids. Her face appears quite delicate but her grey eyes show the strength of her character. She has pale skin and would burn easily if she spent too long in the sun.

​

MENTAL​

​

Ailments​

Ashlyn believes that she always has to be strong, strong for her troubled father, strong for her little brother and strong for House Stark. Because of this she buries her emotions and doesn’t allow others to see her pain. But nothing stays buried forever and there will come a time when Ashlyn won’t be able to bury everything and woe betide anyone nearby when it all comes to the surface.

​

Intelligence​

Above-average mainly due to having a very good education, her father ensured that she received lessons on everything from strategy and history to etiquette and running a household.

​

PERSONALITY​

​

Personality​

Ashlyn is a stark through and through, loyal, determined and far too strong-willed for her own good. She loves her family with everything in her but sometimes she wishes things were different. She wishes there was a way she could fix things, make her father be like he used to when her mother was alive. She does her best to be a caring and fun big sister and tries to shield her brother from her father’s behaviour. She is also a powder keg, bottling things up instead of dealing with them. She doesn’t know how to deal with things so she buries them and tries to pretend they are gone. She hides everything behind a smile and a witty remark using the sharp tongue she is known for. But though her dry humour can be cutting she is not deliberately cruel or unkind.

​

Likes​

Animals (especially her horse 'Argent' and her Direwolf 'Sable' (Named for his black fur)
Nature
Sketching
Archery
Horse Riding

​

Dislikes​

Embroidery
Mornings
Bullies
Animal cruelty

​

Weaknesses​

Her inability to ask for help or lean on others makes her more fragile than she realises.
The Starks are known for their loyalty and Ashlyn is no different, she’d do almost anything for her family and this can be used against her.

​

COMBAT​

​

Skills​

Archery
Horse Riding
Drawing
Healing (Knowledge of herbs etc, taught by one of the servants at Winterfell)
Etiquette (she is the lady of Winterfell since her mother died so she had to learn how to arrange and host formal occasions etc)

​

Weaknesses​

No good with a sword or other close combat weapons

​

Weapons​

Her beloved bow given to her by her father
Her sharp tongue

​

BIOGRAPHY​

Life as a Stark is not an easy one and Ashlyn has learned this the hard way, both from the loss of her mother and the terrible violence of war. Although too young to remember the Karstark rebellion she grew up under the cloud of pain and amongst the wounds the conflict had left behind.

But she always had her family to turn to...until she didn’t. Her mother’s death devastated Ashlyn and left her feeling adrift. It was only feeling the need to care for her younger brother and sister that prevented her from withdrawing completely. She couldn’t deal with the feelings and thoughts her mother’s death brought about and buried them behind her need to be strong for her family.

Perhaps in time, she could have allowed herself to feel, grieve and move on in a healthy way but then the rebellion started. Although not directly involved Ashlyn knew they would be dragged into it sooner or later. Something as big as the rebellion would consume the whole country eventually. Tensions were high and they came to a head when the incident at the Neck happened.

Ashlyn still didn’t truly know who had started the conflict between the Fray’s and the Reeds but it didn’t matter. As she had predicted her father, unable to remain neutral, joined the rebels. When they had won Ashlyn (naively) had hoped it would be over but the battle for the Iron throne has begun and no one is safe from it.​

 

[HumbugPie]

Lady Loralynne Tyrell​

Nickname - Lady Lora​

​

Age - 39-years-old​

​

Birthday - 14th of January 242 AC​

​

Gender - Female​

​

House - House Tyrell​

​

Titles - Lady Tyrell of Highgarden, Mother of the Golden Rose, Mother of Highgarden​

​

Religion - Faith of The Seven​

• Appearance
• Personality
• Biography
• Combat
• Relations
• Mental

• 
  
  
  Loralynne is 5'4" and 112 lbs. She has long dark brown hair that she has curled and styled by her maid, often adorned by beautiful headpieces. Loralynne wears floaty, fancy dresses of many colours and has a stunning collection of jewellery. Loralynne‘s skin is pale, with rosey cheeks and lips. Her dark brown eyes have a kind nature to them, but beware if you cross her or her loved ones, that kind look can and will quickly dissipate.
  
  
  ​
• 
  Personality
  
  ​
  Amiable​
  If you are on her good side, Loralynne is a kind woman with a pleasant aura about her. She’s a social person, enjoying good conversation, hosting dinner parties and balls at the Tyrell estate. Throughout her life, Loralynne has often felt very lonely - during her father‘s illness as a teenager, her first miscarriage and the ones that followed. This is likely why she prefers to be in the presence of others.​
  ​
  Tenacious​
  If Loralynne wants to achieve something, she will do everything she can to do so. She’s a very determined woman, perhaps cultivated through her difficult past. She is unshakable in her ambitions and those of her children’s, helping them in anyway she can to achieve their dreams, wherever possible.​
  ​
  Motherly​
  It was always Loralynne’s dream to become a mother one day. Unfortunately she struggled to get pregnant and experienced miscarriages, which made her depressed and longing for a family of her own. When the time finally came and she had her first child, she was overjoyed and swore to do everything she could to protect and make her precious children happy. Loralynne is very caring of those who reside in Highgarden too, recognising that she would not be in the position she is without them and that those who have less than her family materially are not lesser human beings. She often arranges charitable deeds to support those in need, which has earned her the loving title ‘Mother of Highgarden’.​
  ​
  Fiercly Protective of Her Family​
  Loralynne will do just about anything to protect her family and their emotional and physical well-being. Both her father’s and her daughter’s illnesses and her experiencing miscarriages, she views her family as the most precious thing she could ever have.​
  ​
  ​
  ​
  
  
  Likes
  
  
  • Spending time with her daughters
  • Embroidery
  • Horses & horse riding
  • Jewellery
  • Playing chess
  • Wine
  
  
  Dislikes
  
  
  • Anyone hurting her daughters in anyway
  • Hunting
  • Being around anyone who is ill that isn’t her family
  • Surprises
  
  
  Weaknesses
  
  
  Nosophobia​
  Loralynne is terrified of her family catching illnesses, so much so that she does everything she can to make sure none of them come into contact with anyone who is visibly ill. Her children and family are very precious to her because of all the loss and struggle having children she has experienced.​
  ​
  Paranoid​
  Loralynne is a very anxious and paranoid woman surrounding illness and disease. Very often, she is worrying about what could happen in the future, catastrophising frequently. The trauma from her father’s and Alerie’s illnesses left her with paranoia that fluctuates from day to day, triggered by certain things such as rumours and gossip about ill people, coughing, sneezing, etc.​
  ​
  Perfectionist​
  Loralynne is a perfectionist, becoming flustered if she thinks she hasn’t done something correctly or to a high enough standard.​
  ​
  Over-thinker​
  Before making any decision, Loralynne will have thought about every possible outcome, even those that are very far from reality. She has a tendency to catastrophise, often thinking of the worst possible outcome first. She does her best to hide this from others, but when she is stressed, her loved ones will absolutely be able to tell that she’s experiencing anxiety.​
  ​
  ​
  ​
  
  
  
• 
  Biography
  
  
  
  Loralynne was born to the Larelle’s, a noble family, with two younger sisters, Lyra and Faelyn. Her family had acquired a small amount of wealth, enough to own a small estate, from her grandfather's farming business that had been passed down to her father. Highgarden is a place with fertile ground and Loralynne’s Grandfather knew that he could make plenty of money if he were to be the main seller of seeds and propagated plants in the area. The business gained wealth over time until he was able to purchase land and build a house.​
  ​
  At the age of 17, Loralynne‘s family were experiencing a depletion in their wealth due to her father contracting an infection that meant he had to have his legs amputated and could no longer run his business. Her parents had to come up with a plan in order to keep their family home and land, otherwise, they would all be titleless and homeless. Loralynne was friends with a son of the Tyrells and so they planned to arrange a marriage between the two - this would give Loralynne safety and wealth that she could also look after her family with. Little did her parents know that Loralynne and the son had already been secretly courting and she was with child. The father of the Tyrell son had overheard a conversation between the two about what could possibly be done about the pregnancy. Loralynne had told the son that her parents were planning to ask for an arranged marriage between them and that this could possibly conceal the fact that she had fallen pregnant out of wedlock.​
  ​
  Scandal would absolutely arise for Loralynne‘s family if anyone were ever to find out, but even more so for the Tyrell family due to their status and wealth. Due to this, the Tyrells agreed for them both to be married, never telling Loralynne’s parents or their son that they knew about their secret for fear of it getting out. Unlike many other arranged marriages, both Loralynne and the son were in love and excited that their parents had agreed to the marriage. Preparations began for the ceremony - a dress was bought, heirloom rings from the Tyrells were passed down to their son, the venue was decorated and the Tyrell home was getting ready to welcome Loralynne, a new member of the family to their home.​
  ​
  Just before their marriage, unfortunately, Loralynne had a miscarriage. Both her and the son were devastated and Loralynne spiralled into a depression. Only eight days later, the marriage ceremony went ahead. Although both bride and groom were devastated by the loss of their first child, they were consoled by the fact that today they were joining hands at last. After the wedding, Loralynne moved into the Tyrell castle with her new husband.​
  ​
  In the years after their wedding, the couple experienced two more miscarriages and Loralynne’s father had unfortunately passed away from his worsening illness. Loralynne’s depression worsened, causing her to spend most of her time indoors, away from people and away from questions. Another pregnancy followed and this time, a healthy baby was born to the Tyrells. Highgarden rejoiced and a big party was thrown to celebrate the birth of their child. Finally, Loralynne had the child she had always dreamed of right in her arms.​
  ​
  ​
  Over the next few years, Loralynne had another miscarriage and a still born birth, but the family were blessed with two beautiful baby girls. Highgarden rejoiced with every new birth and the Tyrells threw large parties, dinners and balls, sparing no expense to celebrate new lives entering into their family. At this time, Loralynne was of course overjoyed and so in love with her babies, but she mourned those she had lost. Although her depression was beginning to lift, there were days that it almost paralysed her.​
  ​
  The first daughter, Alerie, unfortunately fell gravely ill just a month after her birth. Though she wasn’t a planned child, any baby that entered this world into Loralynne‘s arms was a miracle, so she did all she could to save her precious daughter - searching far and wide for doctors, healers, anyone who had medical knowledge that could possibly cure her. Finally, she came upon a sage who said he could rid Alerie of this deadly disease. Loralynne, although incredibly cautious, had tried every possible outlet already and so put her last bit of faith into the sage. To everyone’s surprise, Alerie slowly but surely started to show signs of recovery.​
  ​
  Though Loralynne knows that life will have its ups and downs, after everything she has been through, she swore to protect her children in anyway possible. She won’t bubble wrap them (except when it comes to illness), understanding that we all have to have life experiences in order to grow, but she will do her best to give them the life they deserve - spoiling them with beautiful gifts, love and affection.​
  ​
  ​
  Spoiler: Writing Sample

  Pearl nodded to Pyrrhus, offering him an encouraging expression as the group walked into the ballroom. The warm sunlight coming from the large glass domed roof hit her dress, creating a beautiful waved effect on the floor; as if those around her were under the sea. It danced about, painting turquoise and azure tones onto the chequered flooring.
  
  Taking her partner's hand, she looked around in utter amazement, until the signs of Evereach and Summenan culture hit her: the sculpture of the centaur made her heart drop into her feet and the exotic fruit bowls reminded her of home - she knew of trading between the Crystal Islands and House Brynson, but to think the Evereachs would literally be eating the fruits of her people's labour hit like an arrow to the chest.
  
  Bringing her out of her daze, the loud, booming voice coming from the balcony made her hair wave much more dramatically. She clenched Crow's hand tighter. Maybe they'll think I'm stunned by the appearance of the Evereachs... That I am, but in a very different context. Pearl listened closely to what the leader of House Brynson had to say: the most high house? You've got to be kidding me. In all her shock, the tall ears, blond hair and elven hight of the high elves made her wonder if there were any of her kind to be seen. If there were, she hoped they'd be just as angry at the Evereachs as her, but she knew that'd be a stretch. Though the scandal in Sapphire Shores had caused outrawr, there were still those who defended the dispicable actions of House Evereach and those were most likely to be the ones attending the occasion.
  
  The appearance of the slaves made Pearl's eyebrows arch downwards. She swayed her head toward Pyrrhus, his despair turning her watery blood from a warm, tropical temperature to a cold, unappealing one. The realisation of how horrible it must be to see those of the same race as you be in such a hopeless situation and being unable to help made her want to turn around and run away, but they were there for a reason. And maybe their efforts would lead to equality for all.
  
  Her eyebrows still arched like that of someone experiencing agony, the sudden and unexpected darkness made Pearl blind for a while. She grabbed onto Crow's arm, darting her head about until her eyes came round; severe panic filling her brain. This was the first time she had experienced darkness. It was terrifying and extraordinarily beautiful at the same time. The dim glow of the lights made her relax, each magical pulse of their flames calming her nerves, but she still kept a rather strong grip on her partner's hand. She knew that the show was to keep those around her preoccupied and that she must keep her eyes on the ball.
  ​
  
  
  
• 
  Skills
  
  
  Great at Tracking​
  Loralynne is excellent at tracking with her bow and arrow due to all the practice she has had hunting.​
  
  
  A Sharp Eye​
  Hunting made Loralynne incredibly observant - listening out for crunching leaves on the forest floor, looking out for movements past the trees and footprints and droppings left by the animals.​
  
  
  Agile​
  Due to being small and slender, Loralynne is agile. She dodges and dances in combat, using the objects around her to gain cover.​
  ​
  Horseback Archery​
  Loving both horses and archery, horseback archery is the best match in combat for Loralynne. She got professional tutoring for horse riding and eventually was taught how to use her bow and arrow on horseback.​
  
  
  Weaknesses
  
  ​
  Small in Stature & Not Very Physically Strong​
  Being only 5’4” and 112 lbs, Loralynne is quite small in stature. She could be easily overwhelmed in close-up battle, which is why she uses archery in combat.​
  
  
  Weapons
  
  ​
  ​
  ​
  Bow & Arrow​
  Loralynne father taught her how to hunt as a young teen, teaching her how to use a bow and arrow. She never really enjoyed the hunt, so when she was older, she turned to targets to practice instead. Loralynne has a sharp eye and is very proficient at using her bow.​
  ​
  Dagger​
  Loralynne would help her father prepare the animals after the hunt for eating as well as their furs for blankets and clothing. If she needed to, she would absolutely know how to use her dagger to defend herself or her loved ones.​
  
  
• 
  Relations
  
  
  Parents - Gwenyth and Falern Larelle (both deceased)
  
  Spouse - Head of House Tyrell
  
  Siblings - Lyra (34) - Faelyn (deceased)
  
  Offspring - Alerie Tyrell & Lyarra Tyrell
  
  Affairs - N/A
  
  Relatives - Above
  
  Factions - TBD
  
  Friends - TBD
  
  Allies - House Stark
  
  Enemies - The Enemies of House Tyrell
  
  Nemesis - TBD
  
  
  
• 
  Ailments
  
  
  PTSD​
  Due to her father's illness, her miscarriages and Alerie's illness as a baby. Triggers for her PTSD are hearing about serious illness, coughing, sneezing or seeing someone who looks ill.​
  ​
  Nosophobia​
  Loralynne is terrified of her family catching illnesses, so much so that she does everything she can to make sure none of them come into contact with anyone who is visibly ill. Her children and family are very precious to her because of all the loss and struggle having children she has experienced.​
  
  
  Intelligence
  
  
  Loralynne is rather intelligent. Her many life experiences have meant she has a very different perspective on life to others, having to grow up much faster than her peers and take on more responsibilities. She has also spent a lot of time studying, reading and learning during the most difficult times of her life to stay occupied by something. More than anything, she is very emotionally intelligent and observant of others’ feelings, expressions and body language.​
  ​

 

[VisiblyInvisible]

Conor Baratheon

Lord of Dragonstone, Heir to Storm's End

• .
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  full name

  Conor Lyonel Baratheon, first of his name.

  titles

  Lord of Dragonstone, Heir of Storm's End, and the Wise Stag.

  age

  23

  date of birth

  7th day of the 4th moon, 258 AC.

  gender

  Male

  sexuality

  Heterosexual

  religion

  Faith of the Seven

  house

  House Baratheon
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  height & weight

  6'1" and 171 lbs.

  hair

  His hair, black as night, is long, reaching down to his shoulders, and wildly unkempt. He does little in the way of styling it, but will occasionally tie it back if it gets in his way.

  eyes

  Conor's eyes are a deep blue that shine in the light, like the restless waters that surround his home.

  physique

  As a Baratheon, Conor was born to be a strong, limber man that stands a mountain-high. Despite his best efforts, he’s an eye-catching and formidable man, although he’s still more lean and lithe than his father. Of all his features, his sharp, chiseled chin is the most distinct.

  ailments

  A slight limp from an old injury, but it's barely noticeable.

  intelligence

  Conor is considered to be quite intelligent, at least by Baratheon standards. He takes his time to think things through and plan ahead as much as he can, which is a stark contrast from the majority of his family, and, to his father’s dismay, he prefers a good book over an exhilarating battle.

  face claim

  George Blagden.

  combat skills + weaknesses

  Skills: Trained from childhood on how to fight, naturally strong and tough, knows a variety of different tactics and strategies, and he can read people pretty well.
  Weaknesses: Poor duelist, difficult for him to make decisions under pressure, and he's miserable with a bow.

  weapon

  Tempest, a polished, star-shaped mace that hangs at his side.

  House Baratheon Theme

  Omar Adel
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  likes

  
  His facial hair, reading (particularly about history), the sea, sweet and savory foods, politeness, being right, and he loves a fine wine.
  
  

  dislikes

  Being talked down to, liars and traitors, being alone, unreliability, hates feeling stagnant, wary of Targaryens and their allies, and he despises tight spaces.
  
  

  weaknesses

  Can be considered arrogant, overthinks things, can be easily overwhelmed, he’s unforgiving and holds grudges, reclusive, a little paranoid, and he’s quick to judge people.
  

  personality

  
  As with most Baratheons, Conor is a proud and foolishly stubborn man. Ours is the fury, and his is the way. Once he sets his mind to something, he’ll see it through or die trying. His boldness in the face of battle is of note, although he’s not the strongest fighter in his family. And, as with all Baratheons, Conor has a mercurial temperament, like the storms for which his home is named. Of his family, he does the best at keeping it in check.
  
  Because of his “unnatural” reclusive and soft-spoken personality, he’s seen as a bit of an outcast within his family. A black sheep, if you will. Despite this, he’s still the heir to Storm’s End, and he spends many a day studying his father and reading of the long-dead Lord Paramounts of the Stormlands. He knows that he’ll rule Storm’s End soon enough, and now is a time of great change. With the right leader, Conor believes his House could become the greatest of them all.
  
  He doesn’t believe his father is that leader, but follows his commands without question. His father’s wrath is fearsome, and Conor would rather die than suffer it. So, he plays yes-man to his father and watches him rule.
  
  Despite his shortcomings, Conor is a strong leader with high ambition. His House is perhaps the most important thing to him, and he’ll do whatever it takes to see it succeed. The characteristic Baratheon bravery and loyalty course through his veins like blood, making him a respected and admirable leader. However, his tendency to overthink and seclude himself from his peers makes others suspicious of him, and perhaps even think of him as weak.
  
  For as long as the rebellion has lasted, Conor has been told of the atrocities committed by the Mad King and the Targaryens. However, much of what he’s been told conflicts with the many tomes and historically works within the libraries of Storm’s End. It’s caused him to be wary, perhaps even distrustful, of his father and even more so of any Targaryen.
  
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  relationships

  parents: — Baratheon, — Baratheon
  spouse: N/A
  siblings: TBD
  offspring: N/A
  affairs: N/A
  relatives: TBD
  friends: TBD
  allies: Allies of House Baratheon
  enemies: Enemies of House Baratheon, specifically the Targaryens and the Tyrells.
  nemesis: TBD
  
  

  biography

  Conor Lyonel Baratheon was the first child born to the Lord and Lady of House Baratheon and, although he was quite heavy at birth, he was healthy as could be. As soon as he was old enough to carry a weapon, Conor was taught to fight. Everything from swordplay to archery. He was adequate, even quite good at some things, but never good enough to make his father proud.
  
  When he was at the young age of ten, he broke his right leg in a climbing incident. It never healed properly, despite the maesters best efforts. So, ever since, he walked with a slight limp and tends to favor his left leg despite being right-dominant. During his time in recovery, one of his older servants would tell him tales of the days of old, long before House Baratheon. This started his fascination with history. His growing obsession with reading only upset his father more.
  
  “Live in the present, boy! Practice with a sword, cause mischief, do anything but hole yourself up in the damned library!” His father scolded him.
  
  It was difficult knowing that his father wasn’t proud of him. The Lord of Baratheon wanted an heir as mighty and strong as the fabled giants of the North, not the average, timid boy he was given. But Conor learned there was more to a man than just his physical strength. And if he couldn’t be the strongest Baratheon, he would be the smartest.
  
  Nonetheless, his father would personally oversee his training. It was grueling work, and it was never enough. Even as Conor improved, he still fell short of his father’s expectations.
  
  “Harder!” His father would shout, “You must learn to kill a man with a single blow, boy! If you don’t, he’ll do it to you.”
  
  That was something his father always said. It was a mindset that Conor found himself admiring at times. You must defeat your enemy with a single attack, or else they’ll regroup and strengthen and come back twice as strong. Perhaps his father had some wisdom to share after all.
  
  The library within Storm’s End was quite small, at least compared to some of the other castles. By the time he was in his late teens, Conor had read nearly every chronicling of Baratheon history, every tale of a bygone era, every memoir and biography of notable men and women, and everything in between. Some of the more outspoken members of his House began calling him the “Wise Stag” as a joke. But he liked the name, and it stuck. Soon enough, it became part of his title. Conor Baratheon, the Wise Stag. And he felt it was true. He was wise and intelligent and a gifted tactician. He knew it.
  
  During the Rebellion, the Baratheons were at the head of every battle, and Conor was no different. The Battle of Ashford was his first taste of real war, and it was horrific. They Loyalist forces crashed into the flanks of the Rebels with incredible ferocity and bloodlust. And they were met with a fury unmatched. In the end, the Rebel forces were forced to withdraw and many losses were suffered on both sides. Conor killed his first man that day. More than that, he saw dozens of men he’d grown up with killed and left to rot on a blood-soaked field. It’s a day that still haunts his dreams, and will for as long as he lives.
  
  “That’s war, my son.” His father told him, “Good men will die. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vain.”
  
  The next time Conor saw the battlefield, he was leading his own regiment of men. It was a pyrrhic victory, but a victory nonetheless. This was followed by a much more decisive, albeit much less important, victory during his campaign in the Reach.
  
  Swelling with confidence after his successes on the battlefield, Conor rallied his men and marched on Ashford once more. He was merciless in his siege of the town. It was a show of dominance, a proving of his worth to his father, and a display of what was to come for the monstrous Targaryens. Fields of flowers and orchards full of ripening fruit were made ash. He laid siege to Ashford Castle for several days before more Loyalists, notably a large force of Tyrells, arrived. It was a massacre, and once again the Baratheons were forced to retreat.
  
  He choked. When the Loyalist forces came, he choked. In the heat of the moment, with the adrenaline rushing through him, Conor couldn’t make a decision. He gave no orders to his men. For a long moment, he only watched as they were cut down by the soldiers of the Reach. From that day forward, Conor doubted every move he made. Was it right? Was it the best course of action? Would he be made a fool again? He would spend hours, sometimes even days, reflecting before making a decision. His army in the Reach stagnated until he was summoned back to Storm’s End.
  
  When Conor returned to Storm’s End, he was informed by his father that, because of his service in the Reach, he would be rewarded with the lordship of Dragonstone, the former stronghold of the Targaryens. It didn’t feel like a reward, though, as many of the lords of Blackwater Bay were loyal to the Mad King and he was to keep them in line. But, even so, Conor held Dragonstone for the Lord of Baratheon, quelling the loyalist uprisings and revolts with an absolute fury.
  
  

  writing sample

  A little post I made for a Star Wars roleplay I was in like a year ago. Some of my best work, if I do say so myself.
  
  Kashyyyk. A planet dominated by lush forests as far as the eye could see, forming a dense canopy of green broken only by the most ancient of wroshyr trees that stood like living bastions overlooking an ocean of green. Sunlight barely broke through the trees and onto the cities that sprung from their trunks like artificial branches, housing hundreds of the Wookiees that call Kashyyyk their home.
  
  Trekking through the mires of Kashyyyk, Klaasch watched the edges of the vast jungle in silence. The clamor of the various Kashyyykian fauna formed a peaceful, albeit disorderly, ensemble. It very much reminded him of Trandosha. He breathed in the thick, humid air that settled across the marshes and formed a dampness that Klaasch was familiar with — perhaps even fond of. As much as he despised the Wookiees, they lived under circumstances much more similar to his own people than he realized.
  
  It had been several standard months since Vehement and his division of Sith soldiers arrived on the beaches of Kashyyyk. They were met with fierce opposition and very few Wookie clans were willing to abandon the Republic in favor of the Concordance, but those that did were quickly rewarded with military support and resources. Klaasch wasn’t much of a diplomat, especially when it came to the Wookiees, so ambassadors and Sith Lords were sent in his place to secure the union between the Concordance and the Kashyyykian natives. In a mission to control a planet with as little violence as possible, negotiation and diplomacy was a strong asset. And as much as he may prefer to take a more drastic approach to quell a rebellion, he dared not disobey the Imperator without cause. That would lead only to a fate worse than death.
  
  Violence, however, was an inevitability, a fact that Klaasch was eager to exploit. When Yundar, the large inlet that acted as a major base of operations, was attacked, he was quick to make it an excuse to adopt a scorched-earth policy. It was Klaasch’s plan to destroy as much as possible in an attempt to force the rebellious Wookiees out of hiding before exterminating them.
  
  Vehement always preferred to lead from the frontlines. Today was no different. In the wetlands far below the safety of the trees, thousands of Concordance soldiers marched through heavy vegetation and ankle-deep mud behind him. Forests burned in their wake, artillery pounded the jungles in their path, and explosives paved the way for vital supply lines. Klaasch set the precedent that the Sith Order would not show mercy to those who oppose its will. Still, the Wookiees were resistant and Vehement’s annoyance grew exponentially. It became an obsession to find and crush the insurgents, to wipe them out and prove his strength. If he couldn’t capture them as slaves, then he would slaughter them. He even went so far as to conscript a regiment of Trandoshans, all of which were eager to hunt the Wookiees and earn the favor of the Scorekeeper.
  
  But something was wrong here. He could feel it, even without the Force. Hidden within the thick foliage around them, Wookiees began to fire down upon Vehement and his detachment.
  
  “Kill them, leave no sssurvivors!” He commanded as he ignited Bane and Fury before sprinting forward into the brush. He cut through the undergrowth and slashed at two of them with a furious roar, drawing the attention of a handful of Wookiees around him. Bolts from their bowcasters burned through his cloak and soared past his face as he twirled his lightsabers to block as many as he could. Klaasch leaped towards the closest Wookiee, impaling him with both blades. He kicked the dying Wookiee before pushing him into another with the Force. He threw one of his sabers with a snort, "Your deathsss will earn me many Jagannath pointsss!”
  
  He rushed towards another pair of Wookiees, striking one to the ground with his hand before slicing through the other. Catching his second lightsaber, he brought the blade down into the other Wookiee. A searing pain washed over his shoulder and Vehement howled, snapping his head back towards the Wookiee that shot him. As he was preparing to dash towards his foe, he felt something deep within him. A devastating loss, a tragedy unlike any he’s experienced before. A disturbance in the Force.
  
  Another bolt to his chest snapped Klaasch out of his trance and he snarled at the Wookiee before racing past him, using the Force to aid his speed. He could feel something was terribly wrong but he didn’t know what. As he blurred past his soldiers, Vehement forced himself to ignore the burning sensation from his injuries and focus instead on the potential catastrophe that he sensed. For the first time a long time, he felt unease.
  
  Vehement slid to a stop towards the end of the convoy, causing several troops to question him, “Sssilence!” He shouted, “Sssend a message to Yundar. Tell them I’m on my way.” Before he received a response, Klaasch was already sprinting towards the Sith headquarters.
  

coded by natasha.

 

[Qwertycakes]

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• ...
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• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  trystan.

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  Winter is Coming

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  character name

  
  

  Trystan Torrhen Stark

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  nickname(s)

  
  

  Trys, the Wolf Pup

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  age

  
  

  19 years

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  gender

  
  

  Male

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  house

  
  

  Stark

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Titles

  
  

  N/A

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  religion

  
  

  The Old Gods

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  appearance

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair style

  
  

  Glossy, soft black locks that are naturally a bit unruly. He favors short-cropped hair so it's easy to keep neat and out of his face, though it often looks rather tousled anyway.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  modifications

  
  

  None.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  physique

  
  

  Naturally slender and lean, his build is sturdy, athletic, but not overly muscular. While not the biggest or strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms, his nimble frame is exceedingly quick, dexterous, and agile.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  attire

  
  

  On any given day, he'll eschew all fine garb for his most comfortable and well-worn tunics and trousers. Valuing comfort over style, his overall look is rather plain and scruffy for a highborn fellow, and he never opts to dress up fancy unless specifically told to do so.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  height

  
  

  5'11"

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  weight

  
  

  167 lbs.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  eye colour

  
  

  pale green

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair colour

  
  

  black

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  personality

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  personality

  
  
  
  

  
  Trystan is scrappy and mischievous, a fun-loving fellow who's just a bit too immature for his age and status. Charming and flirtatious, he has a seemingly endless inner well of confidence that some would interpret as cocky or arrogant--and they wouldn't be too far off, though his cocksure attitude is balanced out by a playful puppy-like demeanor. Trystan has little to no interest in his position as heir of Winterfell and all that it entails. He would rather be goofing off and having fun than seeing to his responsibilities, and seems to rarely take anything seriously. That's not to say that he doesn't care about anything, however. He's adoring and affectionate towards his loved ones, and is quite protective of his family, especially his sisters. In true Wolf form, Trystan is fiercely loyal to those he holds dear, and wouldn't hesitate to fight to the end for his allies and the people of Winterfell.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  positive traits

  
  
  
  

  
  + Charming
  + Earnest
  + Clever
  + Loyal
  + Easygoing
  

  
  
  
  
  

  negative traits

  
  
  
  

  
  - Immature
  - Shiftless
  - Cocky
  - Impulsive
  - Possessive
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  background

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  early life

  
  

  
  

  Trystan Stark, the first of his name, was born to Lord Brandon and Lady Arianna Stark, their only son and heir of Winterfell.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  later life

  
  

  
  

  Trystan was but a toddler when Lady Stark passed away from a plague that spread through the North. Despite growing up with no mother and a depressed father overcome with grief, he was a happy-go-lucky child, forever climbing the Walls of Winterfell, causing mischief, and practicing archery with his elder sister, Ashlyn.
  
  He remained well-rounded mainly thanks Ashlyn, who had to grow up way before her time in order to keep her family from falling apart, and always made sure her little brother was loved and cared for. When an affair between Lord Stark and a staff member at Winterfell resulted in a child, young Trystan was thrilled to have a baby sister as well, and never saw her as a bastard or half-sibling. To him, Maerie was nothing less than a true-born Stark, just like Ashlyn and himself.
  
  While life in the North could be harsh, Trystan loved his home of Winterfell. He lived a mostly carefree life into his adolescence, going on hunting trips with his father and sisters and scheming up ways to avoid his studies. It wasn't until whispers of a rebellion started to drift up North that his peaceful life would be threatened, and soon a full on war was breaking out miles away in the South. Soon enough, it was clear Lord Stark would no longer be able to stay neutral. He eventually sided with the rebels, and marched into battle with Trystan and his bannermen in tow.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  even later life

  
  

  
  

  Luckily, Lord Stark chose the right side, as the rebels won the war. While he was happy to make it out alive and beyond relieved no harm came to his father, Trystan saw countless men fall, and was struck by just how easily one's life could be ripped away from them. Fighting in the rebellion only solidified the boy's belief that life is too short and fragile to be spent doing anything besides having fun and living it 100% to the fullest.
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  gallery

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  misc

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Likes
  Drinking
  Hunting
  Stargazing
  Hugs
  Girls
  
  Dislikes
  Planning
  Tedium
  Reading
  Politics
  Losing
  
  Weaknesses
  Marty McFly syndrome; can be goaded into just about anything if it's suggested he's a coward
  Easily manipulated by women
  
  Intelligence
  Fairly clever and quick-witted despite his resistance to learning and failure to absorb much of his studies growing up
  
  Combat Skills
  Swordplay
  Archery
  Horseback riding
  
  Weapons
  Valyrian steel sword with a grey wolf hilt, given to him by his father
  Bow
  Usually carries a lucky dagger that he won in a bet
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  relationships

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Brandon Stark

  
  
  
  

  Father, Lord of Winterfell
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Arianna Stark

  
  
  
  

  Nee Arianna Arryn
  Mother, Lady of Winterfell
  Deceased
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Ashlyn Stark

  
  
  
  

  Elder sister
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Maerie Snow

  
  
  
  

  Younger half-sister
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Rockley

  
  
  
  

  Trystan's pet direwolf
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

♡design by natasha., coded by uxie♡

 

[Qwertycakes]

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  maerie.

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  Winter is Coming

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  character name

  
  

  Maerie Snow

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  nickname(s)

  
  

  The Bastard of Winterfell

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  age

  
  

  14 years

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  gender

  
  

  Female

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  house

  
  

  Stark

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Titles

  
  

  N/A

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  religion

  
  

  The Old Gods

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  appearance

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair style

  
  

  Her soft, silky locks are baby fine and wispy, a lustrous light brown with a touch of ginger. Maerie often tries to emulate the intricately plaited styles worn by glamorous southron ladies but has no clue how to execute them, her efforts amounting to a few messy braids randomly weaved throughout her hair.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  modifications

  
  

  None.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  physique

  
  

  At just under 5'0, Maerie is tiny pixie of a girl, and her round face, waifish figure, and diminutive size make her look slightly younger than her true age of 14.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  attire

  
  

  Usually favors a darkly romantic, witchy style of gown in dark colors like black, maroon, or blood red, but will occasionally wear dresses in softer shades like blush pink or cream. Loves weaving flower crowns and will wear them sometimes when she can pick enough wildflowers. Always wears a silver direwolf pendant necklace, a gift from her father that she secretly pretends is a magical amulet.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  height

  
  

  4'11"

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  weight

  
  

  102 lbs.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  eye colour

  
  

  hazel green

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair colour

  
  

  auburn

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  personality

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  personality

  
  
  
  

  
  Maerie is just as gentle and innocent as her petite frame and soft features would suggest. She's kind and accepting, a sweet, amiable soul who revels in any opportunity to make new friends. While bookish and well-read for a girl, she's grown up rather sheltered from the world outside Winterfell and much the harsh realities of life in the North, and can be extremely naive because of it. Maerie also loves nature. When not curled up with a book, you can often find her outdoors, horseback riding through the godswood, wandering the forest with her direwolf, Jinx, or picking mushrooms and wildflowers if the capricious Northern weather permits. She also loves fanciful novels about witches and magic, and will often neglect her studies to read or daydream about such things instead.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  positive traits

  
  
  
  

  
  + Kind
  + Curious
  + Helpful
  + Erudite
  + Imaginative
  

  
  
  
  
  

  negative traits

  
  
  
  

  
  - Naive
  - Childish
  - Frivolous
  - Clingy
  - Scatterbrained
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  background

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  early life

  
  

  
  

  Maerie Snow, Bastard of Winterfell, is the product of a tryst between Lord Brandon Stark and a lowborn woman. Darlessa, a petite brunette member of the kitchen staff, grew up with Brandon, as her own mother also worked in the kitchens of Winterfell. Though they never harbored any romantic feelings for one another, they were good friends and remain so to this day.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  later life

  
  

  
  

  Despite her status as a bastard and not a true-born daughter, Maerie enjoyed a pleasant childhood with the Starks. She always adored her older siblings and would do anything to spend time with them. This meant the bookish girl would learn things like riding and archery, though she's still nowhere near as good at the latter as her athletic sister and brother.
  
  As she was always tiny for her age and lacking in physical strength, Maerie was more of a bookworm type. Even before she could read, she'd beg anyone who was willing to read her a story. As she grew up, she devoured more and more of the books in the library of Winterfell, especially fantasy stories of wizards, witches, and magical powers. Maerie was also fascinated by maesters and reading about their many duties and scientific/medical pursuits.
  
  Unlike Lord Stark's other children, Maerie was and is lucky enough to still have her mother around. Darlessa has always been very harsh and critical of her daughter though, especially her lackluster performance in her studies of the domestic arts. Not to mention the girl's interest in science and medicine, finding such things unbecoming of a lady and future obedient wife. Her mother would often force Maerie to help out in the kitchens of Winterfell learning to cook as a life/work skill, as Darlessa was convinced her daughter's position as a bastard was a precarious one with no guaranteed future, especially if something should ever happen to Lord Stark.
  
  However, much like the Stark children, Maerie is very attached to Brandon. Since she was a small child, she would follow him around whenever allowed, babbling endlessly of the latest facts or fiction she'd recently read. Maerie always thought the world of her stoic father, and has made it her life's mission to attempt cheering him up daily via hugs, jokes, or any silly story she could conjure up on the spot.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  even later life

  
  

  
  

  Maerie has a secret dream of becoming a maester one day, though well aware she doesn't have a chance in seven hells of achieving it. In reality, she will most likely be married off to a son of a less prominent house. Knowing this is the best arrangement a girl in her position could hope for, Maerie is happy to be a good daughter and do what's expected of her without any fuss.
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  gallery

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  misc

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Likes
  Reading
  Horseback riding
  Animals
  Sweets
  Gathering herbs, plants, mushrooms, etc. for "potions" (mostly things like healing salves and other remedies found in various books)
  
  Dislikes
  Sewing
  Needlepoint
  Helping her mother in the kitchens
  Boring lessons like etiquette
  Disappointing her parents
  
  Intelligence
  Loves learning, but only really about subjects she's interested in like science or medicine. Would no doubt be considered book smart thanks to an ongoing formal education and the countless tomes she's consumed on many different subjects.
  
  Weaknesses
  Very small, physically weak and pretty much useless in a fight
  
  Combat Skills
  N/A
  
  Weapons
  None, unless you count Jinx
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  relationships

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Brandon Stark

  
  
  
  

  Father, Lord of Winterfell
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Darlessa

  
  
  
  

  Mother, kitchen wench at Winterfell
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Ashlyn Stark

  
  
  
  

  Elder half-sister
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Trystan Stark

  
  
  
  

  Elder half-brother
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Jinx

  
  
  
  

  Maerie's pet direwolf
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

♡design by natasha., coded by uxie♡

 

[VisiblyInvisible]

Lucaerys Velaryon

Lord of the Tides

• .
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  full name

  Lucaerys Taelor Velaryon, first of his name.

  titles

  Lord of Driftmark and the Tides.

  age

  20

  date of birth

  19th day of the 2nd moon, 261 AC.

  gender

  Male

  sexuality

  Heterosexual

  religion

  Faith of the Seven

  house

  House Velaryon
• i

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  height & weight

  5'11" and 159 lbs.

  hair

  His hair is short and silvery, although slightly darker than that of the Targaryens. It's typically ruffled and windblown.

  eyes

  Lucy's eyes are a soft lilac with flecks of gold, and always show a hint of melancholy.

  physique

  Lucy brings with him the faint scent of the ocean everywhere he goes, which mixes with his honey-like perfume to create a subtle salty-sweet aroma around him. He’s slender and unimposing to most, but his delicate features mask the muscle gained from years of manning ships. His arms are especially defined and his hands are rough from sailing. His Valyrian blood has gifted him a serenity and elegance fitting for the son of a Lord.

  ailments

  None diagnosed.

  intelligence

  Lucy has an average intelligence, for the most part. He was never an especially studious child, nor was he very attentive during his tutoring. Instead, his mind wandered to the sea and the Targaryen princess he'd long to see again.

  face claim

  Jamie Dornan.

  combat skills + weaknesses

  Skills: Excellent shipmaster and leader, practiced with swordplay/dueling, well-balanced and agile, and he's not afraid to be "dishonorable" in a fight.
  Weaknesses: Smaller than most, inexperienced in real combat, and he doesn't really enjoy killing.

  weapon

  Sorrow's Edge, a curved, Valyrian steel shortsword sheathed in an ornate scabbard. It was an heirloom passed down by Lucy’s father to his brother, and given to him after their deaths.

  We Shall Sail Together

  Robin Beanland
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  likes

  
  The ocean, sailing, absolutely loves honey and salty foods, most people, the rain, telling stories, singing and dancing, admiring the marine life.
  
  

  dislikes

  Fighting/killing, responsibility, silence, not a fan of horse-riding, being forced to learn, chocolate (unless salted), despises the Baratheons and Greyjoys.
  
  

  weaknesses

  Acts arrogantly, can be too friendly, gets attached easily, self-doubt, he's impulsive, and a little naive and too trusting of others.

  personality

  Lucy exudes a certain boyish charm, gentle and warm and curious, with words like the sweetest honey. He’s a bit of a flirt, but mostly just kind and genuine. He forms relationships with people easily, and has a bad habit of becoming attached to everyone he meets. This makes him a much better diplomat than a warrior.
  
  Despite not being much of a fighter, he exhibits a notable bravery and grit in combat. This, however, does not mean that he fights with honor. Lucy knows when he’s outmatched, and will do whatever it takes to even the odds.
  
  Although he often has a small smile on his face, Lucy has suffered much loss in the past few months. His heart weighs heavy most days, and what little hope he has left rests on the shoulders of the Targaryen princess and the Northerners. He is determined to see Elaera on the Iron Throne. Even after the acts committed by the so-called Mad King, Lucaerys and his House remained loyal to the Targaryens, and he believes, however naively, that a Targaryen ruling once again will solve all of his problems.
  
  Lucy is outspoken, but still well-mannered, and seems self-assured to the point of arrogance. He feigns his confidence, however. Most of the time, he doesn’t know what he’s doing or how he’ll do it. He was never supposed to be the Lord of Driftmark or the protector of the fleeing Targaryen princess, but the responsibility fell to him and Lucaerys struggles with his uncertainty and self-doubt often.
  
  Lucaerys is most at home on the sea, sailing across the open waters. If nothing else, he truly is the Lord of Tides.
  
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  relationships

  parents: Taelor Velaryon - Deceased. Vysella Velaryon - Living.
  spouse: N/A
  siblings: Jacaerys Velaryon - Deceased. Naerys Velaryon - Deceased.
  offspring: N/A
  affairs: N/A
  relatives: A few cousins born from his only aunt.
  friends: Elaera Targaryen
  allies: Allies of House Velaryon, namely the Targaryens.
  enemies: Enemies of House Velaryon, specifically the Baratheons and the Greyjoys.
  nemesis: TBD
  
  

  biography

  Born the second of three children to Lord Taelor Velaryon and his Lady Vysella Velaryon, Lucaerys grew up living a comfortable life. He was educated on everything the son of a Lord should be, not that he paid attention very often. Why should he? His brother would take his father’s place as Lord of Driftmark, not him. Other than that, Lucaerys was taught the ins and outs of sailing and managing a ship. He always had a love of the ocean, and would often go on sailing trips with his older brother.
  
  As close friends and allies of the Targaryens, he and his family would visit King’s Landing and the Red Keep often. Lucy made quick friends with the Targaryen children, but he was closest to Elaera. Whenever the two were together, chaos and mischief ensued. And he enjoyed each and every second he spent with her.
  
  As the years went by, however, Lucaerys was able to see his close friend less and less, much to his sorrow. By the time he was seventeen, it had become nearly impossible to see Elaera.
  
  When the Rebellion began, House Velaryon backed the Targaryens. Lord Velaryon and Jacaerys left with a fleet of ships and sailed towards Storm’s End. Lucy wanted to join his brother and father on the battlefield, but his mother insisted that he stay on Driftmark with her and Naerys. A few months later, Lord Taelor Velaryon returned to Driftmark with the news that his eldest son had died in battle. After that, the Lord of House Velaryon had become volatile. Half the time, he was locked away in his chambers, sobbing so loudly that it would echo throughout the castle. The rest of the time, he was filled with a rage that Lucaerys had never seen before, but one he understood.
  
  Once his father returned, however, Lucy was free to visit King’s Landing, where he was working up the courage to go to the Red Keep and offer himself to King Aerys Targaryen. He was going to swear the loyalty of his House and himself, and ask that the King allow him to be the sworn shield to Princess Elaera. If that didn’t work, Lucy would demand that he be allowed to protect them. At least, that’s what he imagined he would do. Before he had the chance to, he received word that his young sister, only ten years old at the time, had contracted a fatal disease.
  
  In the same message, his mother requested that he return home. So, he did. And he found his mother grieving at Naerys’ bedside while his father was locked in his chambers, along with the men of his council. Once his sister was at rest, his mother became a hollow shell of a woman and his father separated himself from her and Lucy even more.
  
  A short month after that, Lucaerys was woken in the middle of the night by the distant sound of ship bells. Looking out from his window, he could see at least a hundred men, sailors he had known all his life, preparing at least half a dozen ships to set sail. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he could make out more ships in the distance coming from King's Landing. Lucy assumed the worst and prepared himself for battle.
  
  As he rushed down the halls of Castle Driftmark, Lucy began to feel a knot forming in his gut. It was deathly quiet in the castle, not a single soul stirred but him. He let out a sharp squeak when a pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders. His father’s steward turned him around and shoved a sheathed blade into Lucy’s arms, which he recognized to be Sorrow’s Edge, the Valyrian blade held by the Lord of Driftmark. Lucy stared at it for a moment, gripping it tightly. It was his father’s blade, then his brother’s before his death. It was never meant to be his, so why was it in his hands? Before he could ask what was happening, the steward demanded that Lucy follow him. He did so without question. As they sped down towards the docks, Lucy heard the steward murmuring to himself, words of panic and fear, and saw sweat pouring down from his hairless scalp. It made the knot in Lucaerys' stomach tighten.
  
  Once they reached the harbor, Lucy was all but shoved into a boat moments before it set sail. His father's steward frowned and spoke seven final words before turning away from the ship.
  
  “You are the Lord of Tides now.”
  
  Lucy glanced at the curved shortsword in his hands and then back towards Driftmark. He had a thousand questions, and no answers to satisfy them.
  
  A handful of other ships left with them but began to disperse once they left the bay. Lucaerys dropped Sorrows Edge, which he had been holding to his chest as he watched his home drift farther and farther into the night. In the end, only about three ships continued sailing North, including Lucaerys’ own.
  
  The Master-At-Arms of House Velaryon told Lucy about the events of that night during their trip to the North. He told of the plan made weeks in advance, how the King was assassinated, as was most of his family, about the plan going awry and his father dying at Kings Landing, and how it was now Lucaerys’ duty to protect the princess. It was a lot for him to take in all at once. He felt lost and lied to and fearful. Somehow, part of him was even happy that he could see Elaera, that she was okay. But how could his father not tell him about any of this? How could Lucy be the Lord of Driftmark? Why would the North want to help the Targaryens? Nothing made sense to him tonight. Nothing would make sense again for a long time, he supposed. At least not until he saw Elaera on the throne.
  
  

  writing sample

  A little post I made for a Star Wars roleplay I was in like a year ago. Some of my best work, if I do say so myself.
  
  Kashyyyk. A planet dominated by lush forests as far as the eye could see, forming a dense canopy of green broken only by the most ancient of wroshyr trees that stood like living bastions overlooking an ocean of green. Sunlight barely broke through the trees and onto the cities that sprung from their trunks like artificial branches, housing hundreds of the Wookiees that call Kashyyyk their home.
  
  Trekking through the mires of Kashyyyk, Klaasch watched the edges of the vast jungle in silence. The clamor of the various Kashyyykian fauna formed a peaceful, albeit disorderly, ensemble. It very much reminded him of Trandosha. He breathed in the thick, humid air that settled across the marshes and formed a dampness that Klaasch was familiar with — perhaps even fond of. As much as he despised the Wookiees, they lived under circumstances much more similar to his own people than he realized.
  
  It had been several standard months since Vehement and his division of Sith soldiers arrived on the beaches of Kashyyyk. They were met with fierce opposition and very few Wookie clans were willing to abandon the Republic in favor of the Concordance, but those that did were quickly rewarded with military support and resources. Klaasch wasn’t much of a diplomat, especially when it came to the Wookiees, so ambassadors and Sith Lords were sent in his place to secure the union between the Concordance and the Kashyyykian natives. In a mission to control a planet with as little violence as possible, negotiation and diplomacy was a strong asset. And as much as he may prefer to take a more drastic approach to quell a rebellion, he dared not disobey the Imperator without cause. That would lead only to a fate worse than death.
  
  Violence, however, was an inevitability, a fact that Klaasch was eager to exploit. When Yundar, the large inlet that acted as a major base of operations, was attacked, he was quick to make it an excuse to adopt a scorched-earth policy. It was Klaasch’s plan to destroy as much as possible in an attempt to force the rebellious Wookiees out of hiding before exterminating them.
  
  Vehement always preferred to lead from the frontlines. Today was no different. In the wetlands far below the safety of the trees, thousands of Concordance soldiers marched through heavy vegetation and ankle-deep mud behind him. Forests burned in their wake, artillery pounded the jungles in their path, and explosives paved the way for vital supply lines. Klaasch set the precedent that the Sith Order would not show mercy to those who oppose its will. Still, the Wookiees were resistant and Vehement’s annoyance grew exponentially. It became an obsession to find and crush the insurgents, to wipe them out and prove his strength. If he couldn’t capture them as slaves, then he would slaughter them. He even went so far as to conscript a regiment of Trandoshans, all of which were eager to hunt the Wookiees and earn the favor of the Scorekeeper.
  
  But something was wrong here. He could feel it, even without the Force. Hidden within the thick foliage around them, Wookiees began to fire down upon Vehement and his detachment.
  
  “Kill them, leave no sssurvivors!” He commanded as he ignited Bane and Fury before sprinting forward into the brush. He cut through the undergrowth and slashed at two of them with a furious roar, drawing the attention of a handful of Wookiees around him. Bolts from their bowcasters burned through his cloak and soared past his face as he twirled his lightsabers to block as many as he could. Klaasch leaped towards the closest Wookiee, impaling him with both blades. He kicked the dying Wookiee before pushing him into another with the Force. He threw one of his sabers with a snort, "Your deathsss will earn me many Jagannath pointsss!”
  
  He rushed towards another pair of Wookiees, striking one to the ground with his hand before slicing through the other. Catching his second lightsaber, he brought the blade down into the other Wookiee. A searing pain washed over his shoulder and Vehement howled, snapping his head back towards the Wookiee that shot him. As he was preparing to dash towards his foe, he felt something deep within him. A devastating loss, a tragedy unlike any he’s experienced before. A disturbance in the Force.
  
  Another bolt to his chest snapped Klaasch out of his trance and he snarled at the Wookiee before racing past him, using the Force to aid his speed. He could feel something was terribly wrong but he didn’t know what. As he blurred past his soldiers, Vehement forced himself to ignore the burning sensation from his injuries and focus instead on the potential catastrophe that he sensed. For the first time a long time, he felt unease.
  
  Vehement slid to a stop towards the end of the convoy, causing several troops to question him, “Sssilence!” He shouted, “Sssend a message to Yundar. Tell them I’m on my way.” Before he received a response, Klaasch was already sprinting towards the Sith headquarters.
  

coded by natasha.

 

[slim]

☁Syndra Rahja Martell☁​

18 years old, born October 30, 263 AC​

Titles: Princess Martell, The Desert Storm, Mother Rhoyne's Chosen​

House Martell​

Religion: Follower of the Mother of Rhoyne​

☁about☁​

RELATIONS
parents:
spouse: none
siblings: Jhaevaro Martell
offspring: none
☁☁☁☁☁
APPEARANCE
~5'5
~143 pounds
Syndra has charcoal black hair and the browned skin known for the people of both Dorne and Rhoynar. She shares most of her personality and features with her mother, especially her dark "dragonglass" eyes. She has a slender frame with little muscle and curves, and her skin is partly unblemished save for freckles scattered across her shoulders. Her lips have a light blue stain from her ingestion of shade of the evening from her time with the warlocks.
☁☁☁☁☁
MENTAL
ailments: none
intelligence: Among the teachings of magic, the warlocks taught her many subjects and she is quite intelligent.
☁☁☁☁☁
PERSONALITY
personality: Syndra carries herself as if she’s walked the earth for far longer than she truly has. She a serious and intense character, who laughs very little and only says what she thinks needs to be said. The only person who can get a more relaxed, casual side is her twin. She refuses to doubt herself and stands firm in what she believes, as she does with her faith in her deity, Mother Rhoyne. Sometimes she feels very distant, even if she’s sitting right next to you. She doesn’t care too much to be surrounded by company, but her father’s blood still runs through her veins, and the girl is still a charmer when she wants to be. Man, woman, or anything between, she can make you feel like you’re the only person in the world she’s ever cared for. Very rarely does she get sentimental, but some people still leave a mark in her heart, although she will never show it.

likes: spending time with family, swimming, seeking knowledge, horseback riding, travel
dislikes: targaryen house & their allies, commitment, most conversation, cooking
weaknesses: Physically, the girl would do poorly in a fight due to nearly no muscle or prowess. Regardless, she still is too confident in her abilities and this can cause some bad judgement on her end. In regards to her abilities, Syndra is only able to manipulate water in its pure form (for example, she cannot suck water out of plants, manipulate blood, etc). As for her dreams, gods hate being on mortals beck and call. She is never promised that what she dreams will come into fruition or when she actually needs them.
☁☁☁☁☁

☁background☁​

The Martell twins future was sealed as soon as their father had locked eyes with their mother who had been selling her wares on the Greenblood river. Unlike his prior conquests, his interest in her had been genuine and quite unexpected. She was beautiful in a rough way, without any finery or etiquette he was used to in Sunspear, but she held herself with dignity and commanded respect with those dark eyes. "Eyes like Dragonglass" he would say fondly, which she always sneered at. Her would abandon his duties to visit her if only to talk to her as she weaved nets or did healing work on those who came to her raft. Eventually, one thing led to another and soon the twins were conceived.
The week prior to the Martell twins' birth was overcast with giant rainclouds that refused to pour on the river below. Their mother had refused to come back to Sunspear with their father, and so the prince found himself in a raft with the midwives as the woman went into labor. As the younger twin's cries joined his sisters, the rain finally raged down in torrents.
With his lover's adamant devotion to her way of life on the river, the prince was forced to leave his children in her care as he went about his duties. He still visited often with all sorts of gifts, which he began to notice had been gifted to her fellow orphans of the Greenblood━ much to his annoyance. The twins were healthy and strong, and soon were able to scramble on the raft and help their mother as she taught them their way of life. Their father would join them, but there was always a sadness when he had to leave.

While her brother had his father's charm and fire as did Syndra, the girl was the one who came out of her shell where the other could not. She was always too forward, too confident in her abilities. While her brother was fine with holding his tongue, Syndra refused to be quieted. As they grew up, her brother began to represent their father as Syndra did her mother, especially when it came to their beliefs. Syndra would listen to every tale her mother told them of their home and culture in the Rhoynish language she had taught to her children. The family would pray to the Mother, and one day, she answered.

The orphans of Greensblood were the last pure descendants of Rhoynar who refused to assimilate into Dorne. Their rafts had been crafted from the ships their ancestors had used to flee their homeland after the Valyrian's razed it to the ground with their army of dragons. Their mother and her people worshipped the Rhoyne river, whom they referred to as Mother Rhoyne whom they had been "orphaned" from due to the destruction of their home back in Essos. Their ancestors were have said to have used water magic to defend their cities as they stood by their faith in their goddess. This magic hadn't been seen in generations, but had it awakened in the twins.

Syndra had felt the Mother even when she was young, and mother noticed as well. While Jhae was less intrigued by their Rhoynar heritage and connection to their homeland, Syndra devout to the Mother, and her magic only grew. The goddess chose the young girl as her champion, but Syndra was still mortal, and a child at that━something gods don't understand. She was 8 when the dreams would come: vivid images of a gleaming red castle, a man with hair of steel and crazed eyes that flickered with green flame, blood that poured down the castle steps in a river, and a wisp of a girl with those same steel locks with 4 dire wolves surrounding her. She didn't know what the goddess was trying to tell her, but she could feel anger whenever the vision of that girl was shown. It was such a primal and unfathomable feeling of rage that swallowed her all at once that had her writhing in uncontrollable fits. He mother tried using cures and praying that the mother would relent, but the goddesses decision was final and Syndra was to carry the burden as was her destiny and the future of Rhoynar. The fits were too much as she started unwillingly using her gifts while unconscious and the river would begin to froth and rise, pitching the rafts and capsizing a few. Against her will, their mother finally asked their father to take them in and find help for their daughter. Jhae was finally exposed to the Dornish culture he had been interested in and his role as a prince which he didn't exactly like as much, but Syndra was in no fit to lead either. Their father finally found a solution━have her learn amongst the warlocks of Qarth.
It was risky business, but the warlocks were as wise as they were powerful despite their waning prestige. She was sent to a warlock named Oshia in his home in Qarth, and for 8 years she years studied under him.

Syndra wasn't sure if it was the warlocks teaching, the shade of the evening she occasionally drank, or the fact she was in Essos that calmed the Mother. Regardless, the fits quietened, and the dreams still came but began to vary and show less and less of the strangers with silver hair. She grew up as did her capabilities and in turn, her restraint and connection with the goddess.
In the final year of her tutorage, the warlock took her to the river Rhoyne as a parting gift. As they passed the ruined city of Chroyane, Syndra was overcome with a fit she hadn't had since she was but a child.
This vision more vivid than she had ever experienced. Gone was the fog and sunken stone structures. Golden columns and statues rose to take their place that the now visible sun, gleamed off of the twisting spires. The orphans of Greensblood walked along the glittering streets with their kin, finally returned to their mother. The water was crystal clear, so clear that as she peered down she could see the bones of the drowned dragonlords nestled in the mud below. The same girl from before was among them now, her lips parted in a silent scream as the silver strands wafted around her face. She could feel the Mother, her hope coursing though Syndra. This was their destiny━Rhoynar would be once more and the age of dragons would finally be washed away.

Syndra returned to Sunspear as a woman and mage━ a powerful, determined one at that. She was rejoined with her twin who had also grown up into a prince despite his shy, more laid back nature. Regardless of his laxness, the twins were destined for so much more than they could have ever realized, and as long as they have each other they won't let down their people.

© pasta​

Spoiler: text since this stupid code is cutting off my words

RELATIONS
parents:
spouse: none
siblings: Jhaevaro Martell
offspring: none
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APPEARANCE
~5'5
~143 pounds
Syndra has charcoal black hair and the browned skin known for the people of both Dorne and Rhoynar. She shares most of her personality and features with her mother, especially her dark "dragonglass" eyes. She has a slender frame with little muscle and curves, and her skin is partly unblemished save for freckles scattered across her shoulders. Her lips have a light blue stain from her ingestion of shade of the evening from her time with the warlocks.
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MENTAL
ailments: none
intelligence: Among the teachings of magic, the warlocks taught her many subjects and she is quite intelligent.
☁☁☁☁☁
PERSONALITY
personality: Syndra carries herself as if she’s walked the earth for far longer than she truly has. She a serious and intense character, who laughs very little and only says what she thinks needs to be said. The only person who can get a more relaxed, casual side is her twin. She refuses to doubt herself and stands firm in what she believes, as she does with her faith in her deity, Mother Rhoyne. Sometimes she feels very distant, even if she’s sitting right next to you. She doesn’t care too much to be surrounded by company, but her father’s blood still runs through her veins, and the girl is still a charmer when she wants to be. Man, woman, or anything between, she can make you feel like you’re the only person in the world she’s ever cared for. Very rarely does she get sentimental, but some people still leave a mark in her heart, although she will never show it.

likes: spending time with family, swimming, seeking knowledge, horseback riding, travel
dislikes: targaryen house & their allies, commitment, most conversation, cooking
weaknesses: Physically, the girl would do poorly in a fight due to nearly no muscle or prowess. Regardless, she still is too confident in her abilities and this can cause some bad judgement on her end. In regards to her abilities, Syndra is only able to manipulate water in its pure form (for example, she cannot suck water out of plants, manipulate blood, etc). As for her dreams, gods hate being on mortals beck and call. She is never promised that what she dreams will come into fruition or when she actually needs them.
☁☁☁☁☁
The Martell twins future was sealed as soon as their father had locked eyes with their mother who had been selling her wares on the Greenblood river. Unlike his prior conquests, his interest in her had been genuine and quite unexpected. She was beautiful in a rough way, without any finery or etiquette he was used to in Sunspear, but she held herself with dignity and commanded respect with those dark eyes. "Eyes like Dragonglass" he would say fondly, which she always sneered at. Her would abandon his duties to visit her if only to talk to her as she weaved nets or did healing work on those who came to her raft. Eventually, one thing led to another and soon the twins were conceived.
The week prior to the Martell twins' birth was overcast with giant rainclouds that refused to pour on the river below. Their mother had refused to come back to Sunspear with their father, and so the prince found himself in a raft with the midwives as the woman went into labor. As the younger twin's cries joined his sisters, the rain finally raged down in torrents.
With his lover's adamant devotion to her way of life on the river, the prince was forced to leave his children in her care as he went about his duties. He still visited often with all sorts of gifts, which he began to notice had been gifted to her fellow orphans of the Greenblood━ much to his annoyance. The twins were healthy and strong, and soon were able to scramble on the raft and help their mother as she taught them their way of life. Their father would join them, but there was always a sadness when he had to leave.

While her brother had his father's charm and fire as did Syndra, the girl was the one who came out of her shell where the other could not. She was always too forward, too confident in her abilities. While her brother was fine with holding his tongue, Syndra refused to be quieted. As they grew up, her brother began to represent their father as Syndra did her mother, especially when it came to their beliefs. Syndra would listen to every tale her mother told them of their home and culture in the Rhoynish language she had taught to her children. The family would pray to the Mother, and one day, she answered.

The orphans of Greensblood were the last pure descendants of Rhoynar who refused to assimilate into Dorne. Their rafts had been crafted from the ships their ancestors had used to flee their homeland after the Valyrian's razed it to the ground with their army of dragons. Their mother and her people worshipped the Rhoyne river, whom they referred to as Mother Rhoyne whom they had been "orphaned" from due to the destruction of their home back in Essos. Their ancestors were have said to have used water magic to defend their cities as they stood by their faith in their goddess. This magic hadn't been seen in generations, but had it awakened in the twins.

Syndra had felt the Mother even when she was young, and mother noticed as well. While Jhae was less intrigued by their Rhoynar heritage and connection to their homeland, Syndra devout to the Mother, and her magic only grew. The goddess chose the young girl as her champion, but Syndra was still mortal, and a child at that━something gods don't understand. She was 8 when the dreams would come: vivid images of a gleaming red castle, a man with hair of steel and crazed eyes that flickered with green flame, blood that poured down the castle steps in a river, and a wisp of a girl with those same steel locks with 4 dire wolves surrounding her. She didn't know what the goddess was trying to tell her, but she could feel anger whenever the vision of that girl was shown. It was such a primal and unfathomable feeling of rage that swallowed her all at once that had her writhing in uncontrollable fits. He mother tried using cures and praying that the mother would relent, but the goddesses decision was final and Syndra was to carry the burden as was her destiny and the future of Rhoynar. The fits were too much as she started unwillingly using her gifts while unconscious and the river would begin to froth and rise, pitching the rafts and capsizing a few. Against her will, their mother finally asked their father to take them in and find help for their daughter. Jhae was finally exposed to the Dornish culture he had been interested in and his role as a prince which he didn't exactly like as much, but Syndra was in no fit to lead either. Their father finally found a solution━have her learn amongst the warlocks of Qarth.
It was risky business, but the warlocks were as wise as they were powerful despite their waning prestige. She was sent to a warlock named Oshia in his home in Qarth, and for 8 years she years studied under him.

Syndra wasn't sure if it was the warlocks teaching, the shade of the evening she occasionally drank, or the fact she was in Essos that calmed the Mother. Regardless, the fits quietened, and the dreams still came but began to vary and show less and less of the strangers with silver hair. She grew up as did her capabilities and in turn, her restraint and connection with the goddess.
In the final year of her tutorage, the warlock took her to the river Rhoyne as a parting gift. As they passed the ruined city of Chroyane, Syndra was overcome with a fit she hadn't had since she was but a child.
This vision more vivid than she had ever experienced. Gone was the fog and sunken stone structures. Golden columns and statues rose to take their place that the now visible sun, gleamed off of the twisting spires. The orphans of Greensblood walked along the glittering streets with their kin, finally returned to their mother. The water was crystal clear, so clear that as she peered down she could see the bones of the drowned dragonlords nestled in the mud below. The same girl from before was among them now, her lips parted in a silent scream as the silver strands wafted around her face. She could feel the Mother, her hope coursing though Syndra. This was their destiny━Rhoynar would be once more and the age of dragons would finally be washed away.

Syndra returned to Sunspear as a woman and mage━ a powerful, determined one at that. She was rejoined with her twin who had also grown up into a prince despite his shy, more laid back nature. Regardless of his laxness, the twins were destined for so much more than they could have ever realized, and as long as they have each other they won't let down their people.

 

[a z u l a]

• .
• .

• Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.

  Jhae Martell

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    jhaevaro martell.

    "jhae".

    18

    263 AC

    male.

    house martell.

    prince of martell.

    religion: faith of the seven
  • visage

    height

    5'11.

    weight

    180 lbs.

    hair

    
    Dark brown locks fall just past his chin.
    
    

    eyes

    
    Jhae’s eyes are dark and intense.
    
    

    physique

    
    Just like most Dorne men, Jhae has a muscular build and callouses on his hands from hard work. His skin is the color of sand from long days working outside in the heat.
    
    

    distinguishable features

    
    All Dorne people are distinctly different looking than most people in Westros, with darker skin and features.
    
    

    face claim

    
    Avan Jogia.
    
  • likes

    
    sailing, swimming, horses, a good meal, beautiful women, parties.
    
    

    dislikes

    
    boredom, conflict, poverty, confrontation, competition, enemies of his father.
    
    

    strengths

    
    charming, good at talking his way out of things, athletic.
    
    

    weaknesses

    
    hedonistic, arrogant, not strategic thinking, push-over, obedient to a fault.
    
    

    ailments

    
    None.
    
    

    intelligence

    
    Jhae has always preferred combat to reading, but his mother was adamant that he be educated and well-versed in ancient texts. He wouldn't call himself particularly smart, but he tends to be quite philosophical.
    

    Though Jhae and Syndra are rather close, they are very different in their disposition. Where Syndra is strategic and optimistic, Jhae is impulsive and realistic. Unlike his sister, he doesn't follow their mother's believes. If it weren't for their father, they would've remained poor their whole lives. He seeks something greater than the water has to offer, power.
    
    He has spent most of his life trying to impress his father, to prove that he is a worthy heir despite not being full royal blood. He watched the poverty around them his whole childhood, saw the orphans begging on the streets and knew that it very well could be him one day. He didn't appreciate his mother's way of life the same way that his twin did.
    
    Despite his lineage, Jhae can be quite cocky and out of touch sometimes. He makes up for his own insecurities by appearing more confident than he truly is, if he acts like a true king than no one will question him. Though he is not afraid to stand up for himself, Jhae is not as confident and outspoken as his sister. Always focused on self-preservation, Jhae knows when to hold his tongue and pick his battles. Though he doesn't always agree with his father, he never argues with him in fear of losing his favor.
    
    

    mind

    mythos

    childhood

    The Martell twins were conceived from two opposite sides of Dorne. Their father, a prince, and their mother, a market vendor on the Greenblood river. It was their differences that attracted them to one another, creating two very different children in the process.
    
    The week prior to the Martell twins' birth was overcast with giant rainclouds that refused to pour on the river below. Their mother had refused to come back to Sunspear with their father, and so the prince found himself in a raft with the midwives as the woman went into labor. As the younger twin's cries joined his sisters, the rain finally raged down in torrents.
    
    Despite their differences being their initial attraction to one another, it tore the two lovers apart as the prince returned to his royal duties and their mother refused to abandon her way of life. The twins grew up with mostly their mother's influence, though their father still visited and showered them with gifts.
    
    This made young Jhae look forward to his father's visits, to the tales his father would tell and the sparkling treasures he would bring. it was a vast difference to the poverty along the river, and Jhae began to resent their mother for not allowing them to live in the safety and luxury of their father's palace.
    
    

    teenage years

    Growing up on the river taught Jhae many skills that a royal palace could not, it made him sharper and more accustomed to working with his hands. It also taught him the talent of a silver tongue.
    
    Where his sister had learned from their mother to always speak her mind, Jhae learned to bite his tongue and become whoever put him at a better advantage. He was well known for his haggling and bargaining in the market area, he could talk just about any vendor down to half price. Allies meant power, and if it meant pretending to be someone he was not than so be it.
    
    The older he became, the more he started to chase after his father. The river wasn't where he wanted to be, and a market vendor or fisherman wasn't who he wanted to become. Jhae had royal blood running through his veins and he was going to capitalize on it.
    
    When Mother Rhoyne called to the twins, Jhae ignored the call. It was his sister's new and uncontrollable power that finally helped Jhae get his wish, to be a prince of Dorne.
    
    Unfortunately, this also meant that Syndra was to be sent away, to learn under the Warlock's of Dorne to control her powers. With his sister gone and no longer being in his mother's care, Jhae's father could mold him into the prestigious prince he had once dreamed of becoming.
    
    

    present

    Years passed and Jhae had become a true prince, one of his father's most loyal followers. He was a man now, not the weak peasant boy he'd once been.
    
    He had finally been set upon the path for greatness that he'd always dreamed of, though he couldn't imagine just what fate had in store for him and his twin sister.
    
  • gallery

    PARENTS:
    SPOUSE: None yet.
    SIBLINGS: Syndra Martell.
    OFFSPRING: None yet.
    AFFAIRS: None.
    RELATIVES: the Targaryens (their son married his cousin).
    FRIENDS: open.
    ALLIES: open.
    ENEMIES: House Targaryen.
    NEMESIS: Open.
    
    Skills:
    Good with directions, good swimmer, fishing, sword fighting.
    
    Weaknesses:
    He is a follower, not a leader. He follows orders without thinking. He is of little faith.
    
    Weapons:
    A sword from his father.
    
    

    additional info

coded by natasha.

 

[Kovacs]

• .
• .

• He who listens to the salt waves and watches the night stars will never lose his way.

  Daerion Greyjoy

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    wellerman

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    Daerion Greyjoy

    "Dare", "Ian", "Erion"

    24

    257 AC

    Male

    House Greyjoy

    the Sea Wolf

    religion: the Drowned God
  • visage

    height

    6'1.

    weight

    185 lbs.

    hair

    
    Daerion's locks are a vivid, sun-kissed blonde that he often keeps shaven along the sides while the crown of his head remains long and drawn back. Thanks to most of his days being spent aboard ships, his hair is nearly always tousled with salt water and looks darker than it really is. Clean-shaven isn't a look he dons often either; he keeps a well-trimmed beard that often grants him the illusion of handsome, rugged age.
    
    

    eyes

    
    a captivating mix of winter gray with specks of murky sea-blue
    
    
    

    physique

    
    As is with anyone in the prime of their youth, Daerion is the picture of health and vitality. He stands in over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular frame borne out of a very active, sea-faring lifestyle.
    
    

    distinguishable features

    
    Daerion has a long, stocky facial shape with broad, open features that stand out quite a bit compared to the oft more narrow, elven-like features of the Greyjoy line. Much like it is for his sister, his smoke-grey eyes are a staple. But for Daerion, it is the remarkable strength and endurance he has built over the course of his life that are sail above the rest, complimenting his equally robust, hardy attitude.
    
    

    face claim

    
    Charlie Hunnam.
    
  • likes

    
    a good old-fashioned brawl ; the thrill of mapping out a new territory ; raiding ; hiking through raw terrain ; fighting off slave-traders for their exploits ; whale-trapping ; good rum or beer ; the maritime trades ; the smell of a freshly-built ship ; a good-looking thrall or barmaid ; the idea of settling down (but is he actually capable of it?) ; receiving a good omen for naval battle or to plunder a territory ; an odd appreciation for the mainland
    
    

    dislikes

    
    blatant disrespect of his authority ; long, unnecessarily drawn-out executions ; mainlanders (though this is more of a playful derision) ; being told something is 'off-limits' to him ; killing a man without at least having given him a fighting chance ; doesn't care for the idea of 'salt wives' ; the isolated nature of the Iron Islands
    
    

    ailments

    
    None.
    

    Daerion is a natural daredevil; fearlessness and ambition run through his veins. Nothing Daerion does is done half-heartedly, especially when it comes to surmounting a challenge. By virtue of his quietly stubborn nature, he is not an easy one to bend or break in the face of competition, or worse, an enemy. Unlike his sister, Daerion has yet to fully master the subtle art of wordsmithery. More often than not, he means what he says and he says what he means. Archmaester that he may not be, Daerion still possesses a sharp mind for battle and naval tactics, as well as the physical strength to execute them, and execute them well. His charisma and a rather harsh sense of justice that makes him a natural leader in all but speech deliverance, which he is not fond of doing. He is the kind of man who makes a habit out of looking death in the face with a good-natured sparkle in his eye, and say the common Bravos saying, "Not today."
    

    mind

    mythos

    birth

    The birth of the Greyjoy twins was anything but a happy affair. The Lord and a pregnant Lady of the Iron Islands had just come back from the infamous Black Banquet. A historical event uniting royals from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms for a fortnight full of festivities and diplomacy ended not only in the deaths of many good Ironborn and non-Ironborn alike, but the death goodwill itself between the mainland and it's belligerent island vassal. They had nearly lost their lives escaping the massacre. While Lord Pyron Greyjoy attended to the significant loss of his numbers, Lady Mirrena Greyjoy wept deeply, mourning not only the loss of their men, but of her own hopes and dreams of a happy life, clutching the only souvenirs she had left in her possession of her Stark lover: her growing womb and his bloodied sword.
    
    Three months later, preparations were made for what was to be a grueling birthing process. Daerion was the second of the twins to be born in the wee hours of that winter morning. The birth was indeed a special kind of hell all through the night; by the time his older sister was wrapped in the midwife's shawl, their mother the Queen was almost too weak to hold her properly. By the time he followed close behind and began to breathe his first, their mother softly blew her last, leaving forever behind the legacies of the love between her and Harren Stark in the bitter arms of her husband.
    
    

    early years

    
    From a young age, Daerion was always quite a naturally bright and charismatic boy, with a ferocious appetite to match his love for the outdoors. The last place any world-weary servant would catch the young prince spending his days would be Maester Uwell's library, where his older sister often was. Instead, Daerion's sanctuary was the harbour of Lordsport, the city nearest to his castle home of Pyke, where he would often watch the great merchant ships fat with sugar, spice and rum dock or take sail, igniting the first spark within the boy of what could lay beyond their cold, dreary little corner of the Seven Kingdoms.
    
    Having lost his mother so young, there was virtually nothing of her for Daerion to remember and yet, her absence still rang clear and true. When he'd scrape a knee, there was no one to tend it with love for him, or when he'd take a beating, there was no one to dry the tears off his cheeks. There was only ever his father, and what a figure he cut.
    Lord Pyron was as bitter as seawater and as distant as the horizon at the edge of the world. Though he wasn't as quick to raise a hand or fist as some, his tongue was vile enough and twice as damaging. For most of his childhood, Daerion chalked it up to grief, but it didn't make the words sting any less or the looks his father would give him at times: full of suspicion, as if cursing the boy for stealing breath that was meant for his mother all those years ago. Of course, it wasn't all stormy seas; there were days where a tamed Pyron would take his seat on the Salt throne and offer an odd praising word to Daerion on his excelling swordsmanship or gruffly nod and tell him to catch a bigger fish next time. But these moments were admittedly sparse, and soon Daerion began looking for approval, love, and most importantly escape, elsewhere.
    
    

    adolescence

    
    Escape was not easy to find on the Iron Islands, being one of the most secluded kingdoms in Westeros. But Daerion was not without friends; throughout his early adolescence, Daerion maintained a close bond with Rogun Drumm, the eldest son of House Drumm. Together, they spent many, many months off at sea, where Daerion fully immersed himself in the sea-faring life. He enjoyed learning and mastering every grueling and fascinating aspect: from ship function and crew camaraderie to naval navigation tactics and the mapping of trade routes, Daerion had finally found his home.
    But whale-trapping and maritime trade only told one part of the tale. Daerion was fifteen years of age when he first bit metal against slave traders off the coast of Slaver's Bay. The raid had been enormously successful - and while Daerion enjoyed his first taste of the gold, he was reported to spend most of the trip back home down in the ship's hull, where the foreign-born, now newly captured as thralls, were kept. By the time they arrived on Ironborn soil, Daerion could hold a basic conversation in Meereen's dialect of Low Valyrian and had a case of puppy love.
    
    Her name was Feryna. She was two years his senior, a Meereenian and as Daerion grew older and wilder, she was far from the last to warm his bed during his many expeditions. Alongside his list of lovers, grew his reputation as a fierce powerhouse of a warrior and soon, a skilled captain of his own section of the Iron Fleet. His older sister Tarja would often join him as his closest confidant and advisor, carving out her own brand as a skilled healer, though her brutal sacrificial methods, eerie religious practices and skinchanging ability would soon earn her a much darker reputation as the Iron Witch or the Pythoness of Pyke.
    
    

    adulthood

    
    But not all was well in paradise. It seemed that no matter how much reputation or respect Daerion could garner among the Ironborn, the one Ironborn that refused to be pleased was Lord Pyron himself. Titles that should have been Daerion's long ago were stalled and continuously postponed, as if proving how much his father refused to recognize his heir's merits.
    And despite the relative raiding and reaving successes the twins managed to reap and bring back to the Islands, life and the economy still suffered and suffocated. It was no secret why; under Lord Pyron's restrictive, xenophobic policies, trade from the mainland had slowed to a trickle for years now. Worse, despite his scorn of the mainland, Lord Pyron still paid tribute to their mad Targaryen overlord, if only to preserve what little grip of rulership he had left.
    
    Many fights were had, many insults were thrown, yet Daerion could not convince his father to change his course. The deep-seated hatred of the mainland his father filtered his world view through was impossible to shake off, and it was through these eyes the old, decrepit Lord viewed his late wife's son, the heir that bore his name, but not his face. Fury burned through Daerion's veins, and before he knew it, he had struck the old man. It was a hard fall, but nowhere near fatal. But it was enough to send the old lord into a rage, declaring Daerion's banishment from the Iron Islands.
    The next day, the young exiled prince gathered as much as he could in supplies and loyal men, setting sail for the Free Cities at dawn. The night before, he had spent trying to convince his sister to join him, but she refused. "Nagga and the Drowned God are with us, brother," she whispered. "Nagga herself spoke. Your banishment will be swift."
    
    Like many of her eerie prophecies, they rang with the ring of truth. By the year's end in Westeros, bodies began to burn and chaos reared it's great, big, ugly head. The writing was on the wall, written in the Mad King's blood and true enough, two years into Daerion's banishment, fortune struck. Mad King was dead.
    
    And so was Lord Pyron.
    
    It was so fleeting, so quiet that in all the calamity of the Mad King's murder, almost no one noticed and almost no one questioned it. But before he knew it, Daerion's banishment was no more and mere days after he landed, he was crowned Lord Daerion Greyjoy, first of his name, Lord Reaper of Pyke, King of Salt and Rock and Son of the Sea Wind.
    
    
  • gallery

    
    

    parents

    
    Lord Harren Stark of the North and Lady Mirrena Greyjoy of the Iron Islands
    
    

    spouse

    
    None yet.
    
    

    siblings

    
    Tarja Greyjoy : older twin sister and princess of the Iron Islands
    
    

    offspring

    
    One or two bastards borne out of dalliances done during raids along the Free Cities and Slaver's Bay
    
    

    affairs

    
    Can't have affairs if you don't have salt wives to speak of!
    
    

    relatives

    
    None
    
    

    friends

    
    Rogun Drumm, open
    
    

    allies

    
    Do trade partners count?
    
    

    Enemies

    
    House Mormont of Bear Island, House Targaryen of King's Landing, House Stark of the North
    
    

    nemesis

    
    TBD.
    
    

    skills

    
    mapping, navigation, fishing, sword-fighting, some fluency in Low Valyrian and a rudimentary knowledge of Dothraki, TBD.
    
    

    weaknesses

    
    TBD.
    
    

    Weapons

    
    Stormbringer | the war sword of his true father, Harren Stark of the North. The sword was meant to be melted down, but the smith, a loyal servant of the late Lady Greyjoy, kept it instead on the orders of his Lady to gift it to her son when the time was right. This was done, and the smith gifted it to a young Daerion before he went off on his first raid.
    
    

    additional info

coded by natasha.

 

[Castello]

Myle "Spots" Frey

Keep in mind he has severe scarring on his face. Though it has healed immensely, it is still very visible.

• Basic
• Appearance
• Mental
• Combat
• Biography

• 
  age.
  17
  
  birthday.
  2nd day of the 2nd moon, 264 AC
  
  gender.
  Male
  
  house.
  Frey
  
  titles.
  Squire of House Lannister
  
  religion.
  The Faith of the Sevem
  
  RELATIONS
  
  parents.
  Seldan Frey and Sarissa Swift
  
  spouse.
  N/A
  
  siblings.
  Seldan II Frey (older brother/Twin of Crann)
  Crann Frey
  Coren Frey ✝ - Died 280 at the age of 14 due to illness
  Several younger siblings
  
  allies.
  Elon Lannister - the knight he squires for
  House Swift - Support his seat to house Frey.
  
• 
  Spots is a tall, yet slim built young man. His nickname he so adoringly wears comes from the many small circle-shaped scars across his face of which he incurred due to illness. Spots has arid, grey eyes, often veered away from others, along with dirty, brown hair. He has a closed posture, hands often crossed, chin tilted down as he were begging away other's attention. His clothing speaks of his birth, old, passed down leather, a torn clothed undershirt, and the same pair of brown trousers are worn to every occasion. When armored, he wears a thick gambeson and a simple steel helmet. As expected of a child of Frey, he has meek facial features, ailing to a unstructured face, which is surely compounded as he stands by his Lord, Elon. Despite his basic appearance, Spots bears an aloof air to him, the kind of visage that keeps others eyes off him--perhaps he likes it this way.
  
  height/weight. 6'3", 140 lbs.
  
  notable characteristics.
  - Several spotted scars on his face, some larger than others.
  - A small ring he wears on his left pointer finger. While a simple band with subtle etchings, it is most certainly Lannister gold
  
• 
  ailments.
  - He has the inability to fully trust those around him
  
  intelligence.
  Spots is not the sharpest person in Westeros, but he makes up for this in his ability organize himself and research his surroundings. Spots is perhaps most known for his incredible memory, including skills such as the ability to recollect any detail of the Houses of Westeros, including information about Essos. He is not well educated, but has the writing and speaking ability one might expect of his status. Spots, however, is rather keen in his street smarts. He is a clever barterer and knows his way around a fight. While not suave in politics or charisma, he is excellent at choosing his fights and avoiding trouble. One might describe his boon as a mode of social stealth.
  
  personality.
  Spots can be seen as weird, even cold and aloof. He for sure does not talk much and the phrases he strings together are often straight and to the point. This being said, rarely does he ever intend to be impolite or blunt, rather it is his inherit stiffness that causes misunderstanding. Despite, this, Spots is not without his uses. He is a diligent soul, always looking to impress and go beyond. If he does not know something, he will be the first to the library to try and figure it out. He is inquisitive, with his adolescent bombast shining through in his adoration of historic stories, yet it is in this area he shows his childishness. He bases much of his opinion on historic profiles, admiring idols of a forgone present, and can be incredibly inflexible.
  
  Spots will also do what it takes to get a job done or preserve his life, even if he needs to dirty his hands. He is a Frey, after all. While not overly ambitious, he does show an interest in power and control. He believes he has a claim to Frey's seat and is looking for a way to claim it. Myle is also incredibly cautious, to the point of it being his main vice. He never fully trusts those around him, even those whom he calls friends. Of course, this is not a rare trait to see in a Frey.
  
  likes.
  - Horse Riding/Jousting
  - Reading stories
  - The Targaryens
  - Dragons
  
  dislikes.
  - His family
  - Extravagant social events
  
  weaknesses.
  - Lack confidence and experience
  - Naïve
  - Developing social skills
  
• 
  Spots is a very one dimensional fighter, executing what he knows from what he has read. He is well disciplined, patient and meticulous when he fights. While not overly skilled, he has the theory of battle well understood, making him a challenge for any opposition. He takes no risks and does not relish the fight, rather seeing it as another rock to jump over. This being said, he does enjoy horse riding, and has recently begun to fancy jousting as well. As a Frey, he is also fairly familiar with a Crossbow, but by no means is he a perfect shot.
  
  skills.
  - Memory
  - Horse riding
  - Lance and spear use proficiency
  - Jousting
  - Crossbow use
  
  weaknesses.
  - Low constitution
  - Low stamina
  - Little experience
  
  weapons.
  A standard issue Lannister spear, along with a shield boasting House Swift's sigil
  
  
  Spoiler: Armor

  
  (obviously his actual helmet allows him some visibility)
• 
  There is a brutal irony to the words Frey has carved to their legacy, "We stand together." Myle can only find humor in those words, as his older brothers sleep in opposite ends of the twins, and his father, straggling upon his final breaths. Fratricide and Matricide, those were the terms that brought Myle to where he is now, cowering for his life, seen not as a member of the family, but yet another vermin to be stamped to the ground, another soul to add to Frey's seat.
  
  Myle had been a fragile youth, struck by not one, but two plagues. The latter had caused large boils to puff up on his face, burst into puss as the young lad fought for his life. He had ultimately survived, but the disease had caused permanent scars to be kissed upon his face. The initial grotesqueness had earned the young boy his moniker, Spots, given to him by his older brothers. Initially done to lower the young boy, the scars had healed and with it, the word Spots had found new meaning to Myle.
  
  The current head of house Frey is Seldan, a man who is both disliked, yet obediently respected throughout the Riverlands. The river toll has only risen throughout his reign, making the Freys richer than they had ever been, poised to be one of the largest powers in the region. Even lord Tully is sure to show his respect when he crosses between the Twins, in fear of the amount of capital the Freys have the potential to raise. Along with power, Seldan has created a powerful lineage, with a total of four wives. Myle's twin older brothers Crann and Seldan II were born to a Tully woman who died shortly after giving birth. Myle would be the next of Seldan's sons, born to a woman who came from House Swift, a vassal of House Lannister to rally their support in the south. Myle has very little recognition of his mother, other than the few spare moments where she would take him horse riding. The story goes that Myle's mother had vehemently disagreed with Seldan's decision to increase the River Toll, resulting in her being poisoned. To Myle, it would appear as if his mother died of nothing short of the common sickness. Whether or not such a rumor is true, conspiracies have risen with House Swift and Seldan has become a polarizing figure within the vassals. Myle has since become more acquainted with his family in House Swift, specifically his Uncle. After Myle, he has over a dozen younger siblings, some from Seldan's two other wives and others comprising his ever increasing roster of bastards.
  
  Most of Spots' youth was spent reading, hid away from the rest of his family. It is here where gained an obsession with the Targaryens. Despite his own life being filled with troubles, he could always escape through the old tales of dragons, and beautiful white-haired women. His father did not seldom recognize the boy, rarely addressing him during dinners or events. It was perhaps his disdain towards Spots' mother, to the point where courting Myle was never even attempted.
  
  Yet, the year is 281 and Seldan's lavish lifestyle has made his body weak and ill, now nothing more than a dying man. Crann and Seldan II have now begun their battle for succession, sleeping on opposite ends of the Twins, to each their own supporters. One would think Spots would have his own rallying force, yet, he has made an abrupt decision to abandon the Twins for House Lannister’s keep in Casterly Rock.
  

 

[WorldWeaver]

Ser Broki Vinteroks, the Giant of Winterfell​

BASIC DATA
Full Name: Broki Vinteroks
nicknames: TBD (Feel free to come up with any nickname you want for him)
age: 21
birthday: November 8th, 260 AC
gender: Male
house: Stark
titles: The Giant, The Snow Bear, Ser Broki Vinteroks
religion: The Old Gods



RELATIONS
parents: Rolff "The Woodland Man" Vinteroks, Freya "The Shieldmaiden" Vinteroks (Deceased)
spouse: None
siblings: None
offspring: None
affairs: None
relatives: None
factions: "I serve House Stark first and foremost"

friends:
Trystan Stark (I figured his quiet, stoic demeanor would play as a nice foil to Trystan): "He's foolish sometimes, but fun to be around Plus, without him, I wouldn't be as close to the Starks as I am now."
Maerie Snow: "Her cheer helps get my spirits up, and her mind is as bright as her attitude."
Ashlyn Stark: "I see much of her father in her. All of the honor and strength of a Stark, yet beautiful as fresh-fallen snow."
Rylan Reed: "Frog's alright; reckless, but reliable. I can always count on him to have my back, and that's why I call him 'Shield-Brother'."

allies:
Lord Brandon Stark: "I owe my life to Lord Stark. I'd be dead if not for him."
House Stark

enemies:
Lannisters (Distrusting of them): "They call themselves lions, but act more like snakes"
Baratheons (More Distaste than full-blown enmity): "Much as I respect their courage, I hate their arrogance"

nemesis:
TBD



APPEARANCE
General Appearance: Broki, as you might guess from his most prevalent title, is a very large man with a muscular build. His skin is fair in color, and his hair is a dark reddish brown, long and messy mane braided back at the sides and center to keep hair out of his eyes in battle. His dark brown eyes are stoic and fierce. When off-duty, he goes about in a simple tunic, pants, boots, and for rough weather, a fur cloak. He also wears a necklace of the bottom teeth of a bear he had killed, as a reminder of the start of his service to House Stark, and a symbol of his undying loyalty (The significance of this will be explained more in the Biography).

When on duty or in battle, Broki wears plated armor with steel-plated boots and gauntlets, the latter of which having two-inch curved, bladed spikes above the knuckles like bear claws. He also dons a visored helmet (Kind of like the one the Box Cover Dragonborn from Skyrim wears, but with no horns), and his most significant piece of clothing, his Snow Bear mantle, the hide the bear he had killed, with the forelegs draped over his shoulders, and the head over his helm like a hood. He also paints his body with wode (the blue paint celtic warriors are known for wearing into battle), with animal symbolism playing into the design; a wolf to represent loyalty, a bear to represent strength. Combine this with his size, and the large two-handed axe he carries into battle, and it makes a terrifying visage to behold, especially when you hear this bear's bone-chilling roar.

Height: 7'
Weight: 280 lbs
notable characteristics: His signature necklace of bear teeth ending in a bear figure of wood, three large scars going across the right side of his face



MENTAL
ailments: Not sure if there's a name for it, but he's prone to outbursts of blind rage, especially if someone he cares about is hurt or offended.

intelligence: Broki is a man with a simple view of the world. He's not very knowledgable about art... or literature (He can read, but he learns better by doing than reading or watching)... or music (though he does enjoy it). As for other houses, he never really cared much for their affairs unless they align with or go against House Stark's. As such, his knowledge of them is based on what he's heard from passers-by and other members of the castle. He never really understands nor cares to understand court intrigue. With all this in mind, it's easy to think or forgive others for thinking that Broki's a bit of an idiot. However, in the battlefield or at an anvil, Broki's talents shine. He's no tactician or leader, mind you, but he's capable of thinking for himself on the field of battle instead of relying on orders from someone else. He forged his own gauntlets and weapons with a practical design, the axe having a large hammer-shaped weight on the opposite side of the blade (so he can wield it as both an axe and a warhammer), and the gauntlets were designed to have the bear claw spikes not just as a means of intimidation, but a built-in backup weapon. He's also emotionally wise with others, able to understand what they're feeling with just a glance.



PERSONALITY
Personality: Otto Von Bismarck once wrote to his wife: "I am learning the art of using many words to say nothing at all". Broki takes the opposite approach, saying everything on his mind with as few words as possible. He very rarely speaks more than ten words at a time, and that's if he speaks at all. As stated before, he's a man with a simple outlook in life, and when he thinks someone he cares about needs help, he'll try to help them, even if they didn't ask. Broki is also very loyal and dutiful to House Stark, putting their needs before his own whenever he can, and doing whatever he can to help Lord Brandon, or help out around the castle, as a saying in his village goes: "The road to oblivion is paved by idle hands". He is also an open book, easy to read most of the time and honest about what he thinks or how he feels. Despite his often quiet and gentle demeanor, Broki has a fierce temper and a somewhat short fuse. This especially shows in battle, where his ferocity is put on full display.

likes:
-Metalworking and Smithing: "It's a useful hobby, and it's satisfying when done right."
-Animals (except bugs): "They don't care for your sins, only your heart"
-Music: "I can't play it, but I like listening to it."
-Exploring: "The North is a large province, with much to see"
-Courage: "A human's resolve says much about them"

dislikes:
-Spicy food: "I just can't handle that fire in my mouth!"
-Laziness: "Idle hands pave the road to oblivion"
-Excessive Pride: "I don't care how noble you are, human is human."
-Bugs: "No. Just...No."

Strengths:
-Easy to understand
-Trustworthy and Loyal
-Hard-working and Dutiful
-Strong of Character
-Practical

weaknesses:
-being so open and honest around others isn't always a good thing, and can be either exploited, or come off as insulting
-his short temper can cloud his judgement
-his loyalty to the Starks is nigh absolute, making that a possible exploitation
-his simple life view isn't exactly a strong fit for court intrigue or political machinations



COMBAT
skills:
-Physical Strength: Broki's size and build aren't just for show, and he puts all of that muscle and mass to use in and out of battle.
-Two-handed Weapons (Preferably axes and warhammers): His father was a lumberjack and carpenter. He himself would take smithing as a hobby. As such, he comfortably wields heavier weapons, especially the ones that can be compared to the tools his parents used.
-Decent Enough Tactical Thinker, Versatile Combatant: He's no general, but he can think for himself on the field of battle, and make crucial decisions based on what his allies need. He can go head-to-head in duels or take on multiple opponents at once. He tries to get a read on his foe based on his foe's movements and emotions.
-Throwing Axes: Broki's had a little practice in throwing axes, and he's fairly skilled with them.
-Hand-to-hand Combat: Broki has taught himself basic boxing techniques. While his normal punches are devastating enough, when he has his gauntlets on, they become lethal.
-Sailing: Broki was taught how to sail smaller boats, and uses celestial means to navigate at sea.

weaknesses:
-Polearms and Long-Range weapons: It's hard to miss a big target like Broki, making his size a double-edged sword. He also has trouble getting past spears and other long-reach weapons unless he can take them out before the wielder. Furthermore, Broki has terrible aim with bows and crossbows. Rylan once tried to teach him how to shoot a bow in the courtyard, and Broki did hit something...the rump of the Master-at-Arms, who would forever hold a grudge against the giant for that.
-Slow movement: That Plate Armor Broki wears makes him a tank in battle, but like every tank, he's not very maneuverable. Broki's been trying to design a new set of armor to fix this issue, but he hasn't finished it yet.
-Jousting and Horseback Riding: Broki considers himself too large to ride a horse (though he does love working with them), and doesn't really care for Jousting by extension.

weapons:
-Glacier: Broki's trusty battleaxe. The weight on the back of the weapon not only adds to the momentum of his swings, but is shaped like the head of a warhammer, so if he needs something blunt to bash skulls or armor, he needs only turn it around. The blade itself is decorated in runes that spell out his virtues: Loyalty, Duty, Honor. The end of the handle is decorated with a charm made from the feathers of falcons and ravens he found in the castle aviary (where they keep messenger ravens) and in the forest.

-Throwing Axes: Broki carries two of these into battle, and can accurately hit a target up to forty feet away.

-Gauntlets: As stated before, Broki designed the gauntlets of his armor to have a built-in weapon in case he's disarmed. the Bear Claws on them are sharp and make the giant's punches deadly.



BIOGRAPHY
Birth
In a town called Moskstraumen, in the mountains north of Winterfell nearby the Bay of Ice, a woman struggled to give birth to her first child. She was a renowned hero in the village, Freya Vinteroks, the "Shield-Maiden", known for her inextinguishable courage in battle. Outside the house waited a man, her husband, Rolff. A simple man, if not vitally important, for the winters of the mountains were harsh, and his lumber not only kept the hearths ablaze, but constructed and maintained ships and houses. He was talented at his craft as well. However, only one of them would get to meet Broki. Freya died giving birth, her strong body finally giving out, and Broki was born via c-section. His father grieved at the loss of his wife, and the village grieved the loss of their heroine.

From Babe to Giant
As Broki went through childhood, he would learn how to cut down trees and brances, set beams, chop firewood, and build for both houses and ships. In his younger years, he would run simple errands like delivering firewood and bringing needed tools to his father. As he grew older, his tasks became more hands-on. During one assignment, when he was 12, his father was called forth to Winterfell Castle for a repair job. During this time, he would first meet the Stark Children and Lord Brandon himself. He had heard stories of the man, but seeing him with his own eyes filled the boy with awe. He would do his best to get along with the Stark Children, first doing so when Trystan invited him to join their fun, saying "We need a giant to slay!" Despite being slain by the great heroes, Broki still had fun.

Broki would eventually return for a second job at the age of 14, this time more involved with the work, but still enjoying the time he did have with the children. At the age of 17, Broki, now 6'6", and considered a man, returned to Winterfell once more for a job. This time, he came alone, his father busy back at home getting the ships ready for fishing season. During one of his breaks, he went with Maerie and Trystan into the woods. The giant didn't know it yet, but this day would change the course of his life. Before this day, it seemed his fate was simply to take up his father's trade and live a simple life. But it seemed the Old Gods had other plans for this giant.

The Snow Bear is Born
During their trip, a bear attacked the Stark children. Maybe they had accidentally wandered into it's territory, or maybe it was desperate for a meal, unable to find food and seeing the humans as a chance worth taking. Regardless, it was a threat to his friends Broki would not let go unanswered. Throwing himself at the beast, he yelled out for Trystan and Maerie to run back to the castle and get help. He wrestled with the beast for what felt like hours, and was slashed across the face at one point by it's claws. Bleeding heavily and out of breath, Broki struggled to stand as the bear prepared to finish him off. Anger built up inside of him, until finally...all he could see was red.

Broki met the bear's roar with one of his own as he picked up a large stone and rushed at it, adrenaline pushing him to his limits. with all the strength he could muster, he struck the bear's head with the stone. Over...and over...and over. When the guards arrived to help Broki, they found the giant standing over the bear, both their blood staining the snow. Broki's first words to them were: "Trystan...Maerie...are they...alright...?" He wouldn't hear the response. He crashed to the ground himself a moment after he asked, everything fading from his senses.

When he woke up, his father was kneeling over him, and Brandon and his children behind his father. He had been brought to the castle to recover, having only been an inch away from Death's doorstep. While Broki recovered, Brandon spoke at length with Rolff, and for his courageous service to Winterfell and the Starks, Broki would be knighted at 19 after two years of training under the Master-at-Arms. Stories around the castle circulated over what had happened, and he was given the title: Broki the Snow Bear.

Trivia
-Broki is designed to be opposite to Tyrion Lannister, my favorite GoT character, in a number of ways. Tyrion was a dwarf, Broki a giant. Tyrion is a master of speechcraft and deception, Broki is honest and to the point with his words, and not eloquent. Tyrion is an intellectual, Broki is simple.
-Broki and his family tree hold strong Scandinavian and mild Celtic inspirations in their naming and culture. I wanted to base Broki's culture off the Nords of the Elder Scrolls Series. Plus, while Westeros is mostly based on Britain (the island, not the country), Scandinavia has a lot of history in the British Isles (The raids, yes, but also the Danelaw, where the Northmen actually ran a kingdom in Britain, starting with Guthram and ending with Erik the Red).
-The name "Broki" comes from an Elder Scrolls fan story. In the story, Broki is a Nord who leads a band of mercenaries to help a Dunmer (Dark Elf) wizard unlock a vault inside of a Dwemer (Dwarven) ruin.
-"Vinteroks" means "Winter Axe" in Norweigan. At least, according to Google Translate.

 

[Athanas]

Rogun Drumm, The Returned​

BASIC DATA

full name: Rogun Drumm
nickname: The Drowned God’s Bosun, The Returned, Old Wyk’s Carcharodon, The Revenant, The Sea Giant, The Eightscarred.
He plans to add more to the list. Feel free to ask him how he got each one if you don’t mind long stories.
age: 26
birthday (the current year is 281): 17th of November, 255
gender: Male
house: House Drumm
titles: Lord of Old Wyk, The Bone Hand
religion: The Drowned God


RELATIONS

parents: Dunstam Drumm. He never knew his mother.
spouse: None
siblings: Two infant sisters
offspring: None
affairs: None. At least, not in that sense.

relatives: None living apart from his sisters. His uncle perished during a raid, and his Father was claimed by the sea.
factions: He, and his House, are vassals of House Greyjoy.
friends: Killion Greyjoy-Though initially slightly distrustful of Greyjoys, given their association with western houses, the young heir has proved Rogun wrong on more than one occasions, being a good warrior and an even better drinking buddy. Admittedly, there are still some things Rogun has not managed to impart on the man yet, but in general he values Killion greatly.

allies: House Codd, House Wynch
enemies: Anyone who doesn't particularly appreciate the Old Way, probably
nemesis: After a particularly brutal raid on Bear Island, A woman named Adira Mormont vowed bloody vengeance against him and his house. He finds the concept of a mainlander woman defeating him laughable, but the enmity between them is present all the same.

APPEARANCE

Spoiler: Rogun Drumm

height/weight: 6”8/ 255 lbs

notable characteristics: The first thing anyone would notice about The Bone Hand is his colossal size, unmatched by most other men. Coupled with his Endomorph build, it gives him a terrifying aura, bringing to mind the tales of the giants the first men fought against. His black hair is loosesly organized in a long braid, revealing the first of many runic markings and tatoos on the sides of his scalp, pointless scribbles and images to the unaware. His eyes seem to have heterochromia, though it is odd and unnatural-a scar over his right eye, and it's milky, clouded appearance are common amongst those that have lost vision as a result of injury, yet he can see unimpeded through it.

The truly disturbing features, however, begins when someone moves their gaze lower, towards his torso. The countless scars on there alone are incredibly alarming, speaking a tale of a reckless combatant with many brushes with death. Yet the more worrisome part comes when one notices the handiwork of the proud House of Velaryon. Gashes so deep and so jagged, even if someone were to survive them they would be crippled by pain and threat of sickness forever. Not the Bone Hand, who seems to ignore the debilitating pain without any hindrance.

MENTAL

Something is, admittedly, not quite alright with Rogun. Even beyond his brutish exterior and difficulty navigating social situations that do not involve the Finger Dance, there are other odd mannerisms that defy explanation. Twitches and reflexive tensing, even when in a safe and calm environment, Inability to sleep, and a tendency to mumble at random intervals(some of his closest mates swear that this mumbling is actually him talking, though they could never see to whom) are just some of the many derangements observed in the man. The longer someone looks, the more apparent this...wrongness becomes.

intelligence: Rogun is by no means a genius, but he is not stupid, either. Years upon years of studying old texts and listening to the sermons of the Drowned Men have left him with more knowledge than that of the average Ironborn, and particularly in matters of shock warfare, he is unsurpassed

PERSONALITY
Rogun is in many ways the typical example of the Ironborn Reaver that most mothers scare their children with stories of. He has a laughably short fuse, always quick to anger and not at all easy to calm down. Even when in relative calm, he demonstrates a rather mean streak, delighting in causing harm to his foes.

Amongst allies, this behavior does improve, somewhat, but there are still no doubts about his moral character. He revels as if tomorrow will never come, drinking, trading stories, and even performing the finger dance. He frequently acts rashly, refusing to take even a moment to consider the consequences of his actions.
Perhaps cause for most concern are his mental derangements, which, some claim, are actively worsening over time. Rogun’s obsession with both his deity and the ancient magic has developed into a full-blown obsession, a mania that is impossible to quench.

likes: Raiding, Spending time at sea, Fighting, Researching, ritual sacrifices, drinking, The finger dance, sharing stories

dislikes: Peace, legerdemain, stewardship, “New-Way” Ironborn, Degenerates, House Tully, House Mormont

WEAKNESSES(mental):

Due to his impulsive nature and spartan upbringing, it is easy to goad him into unfavorable actions, or to distract him and captivate his attention.

Rogun knows nothing about how the Game is played-he is politically inept and has no grasp of intrigue.

Whatever it is that consumes his mind causes him to act erratically, which is unlikely to give him allies.

COMBAT

SKILLS:

Deadly Juggernaut: A life spent fighting, combined with his Insurmountable strength has left Rogun with a great deal of experience and practice in the act of violence-he is an unmatched warrior, capable of carving a bloody path through the opposition with colossal force.

The Revenant: His title is not only representative of his history-Rogun has time and time again laughed off injuries that would have caused normal men to keel over in shock. To kill him is no easy task.

The Bone Hand: Being a dabbler in the odd practices of his ancestors and a zealot of the Drowned God have allowed Rogun to manifest some powers many would call bizzare. Still, everything has a price…

Arch-Reaver: There are no people as competent in seafaring as the Ironborn, and Rogun is most definitely more competent than the average of his kinsmen. Shock tactics, hit-and-run battles, and naval combat are all parts of warfare that he has mastered.

WEAKNESSES(combat):

Rogun has always found ranged combat to be the stuff of cowards-beyond throwing axes, he has no talent for it.

Due to lack of experience, he struggles when it comes to actual tactics for more organized field battles-he's a raider, dammit, not some Marshal!

Though his colossal size gives him many advantages, there are some drawbacks-for one, his dexterity and agility have taken a notable hit, and secondly, hiding is all but a pipedream.

WEAPONS:

Red Rain, the ancestral greatsword that Hilmar Drumm took from a Knight of Westeros. A terrifying weapon for a terrifying man.

Half a dozen throwing axes, for catching fleeing enemies

A long, rune painted blade, for more ceremonial purposes than actual use in combat

BIOGRAPHY

Each Noble House, no matter how small or big, chooses a sigil, an avatar, that it symbolically tries to emulate, a legacy that they try to reach. Starks have the wolf, a vicious pack hunter, with strong bonds to his own allies but a terrifying threat to his enemies. The Targaryens chose a dragon, a terrifying creature of immense majesty and even greater power, so all could know their superiority over the people of Westeros. This legacy is both a blessing and a curse-everyone, for better or for worse, associates the member of said house with the concept they are trying to imitate.
One cannot escape this shadow. No matter how gentle or kind, a Targaryen is always a dragon. No matter how resourceful and collected, a Clegane is always a bloodhound. So will others always perceive them. Such will be the legend they are forced to carry.

This was one of the first things Rogun was taught as a boy by one of the Drowned Men. And he remembered looking at the banners strewn about Old Wyk, of seeing that skeletal bone hand, the mark of a revenant, of a necromancer. At the time he loathed it. He was a proper Ironborn, yes, and he loved to train with blade and axe, he loved to sail and listen to the old Reavers speak of tactics and raiding targets. But much to his Father’s anger, he never cared much for the customs. He rarely listened when the Drowned Men spoke, and though he studied Old Wyk’s history, he did so only out of fear of punishment from him.

The first indication that this attitude might be all too wrong came when he was but fourteen years of age. One of the Drowned Men shook his Father from his slumber, bringing him portents of doom regarding his brother-Rogun’s uncle, who was currently away on a voyage. The priest urged him to perform a sacrifice of thralls, bleeding them dry into the sea so that the Drowned God might win out and aid the warrior with his raids. Dunstam Drumm immediately promised the priest and the God two dozen sacrifices, naming each thrall that would be killed.

One of those named, however, was a beautiful girl, barely older than Rogun, that had caught the young man’s fancy. Balking at the idea of her dying for what he considered to be foolish superstition, he ran to her, warning her, and helped her hide from the Ironborn that had come looking by lying to them, offering up a different thrall, banking that the Ironborn wouldn’t really care enough for the identities of the thralls.
The ploy was successful. With the deafening chants of the Drowned Men filling the air and the light of Bonfires lighting the coast, the thralls were one after another bled dry like stuck pigs, their blood and flesh flowing freely into the Drowned God’s grasp.

Rogun thought nothing more of that night until about two months later, when news reached Old Wyk. His uncle was dead. A colossal storm had destroyed many of his ships, and forced the rest to seek the nearest shore. Unfortunately for them, A contingent of Baratheon soldiers happened to be in the region. Tensions quickly escalated and the Ironborn, horribly outnumbered and battered as they were, were killed to the last man. A shameful death on land, away from the Drowned God’s gaze. His father was inconsolable.

On his part, Rogun tried really hard to rationalize it. It was just a bout of bad luck, no different than losing at dice or having bird shit fall on your armor. But still, something inside his mind told him that this was all somehow his fault. He had disregarded the rules of Old Wyk, and weakened the Drowned God as a result. Though he would still not admit it, he began spending longer and longer listening to teachings and diving into ancient parchments and scrolls. At first he told himself he was doing it just so his Father would be proud. It soon turned into quieting his own fears of having been wrong, of there being more than pointless spiritualism behind these actions.

Two years passed. Rogun was bloodied and joined several raids, but none of them were really successful-though none were a crushing defeat, either, something always went awry, either there being more enemy soldiers than expected, or the sudden coming of bad weather forcing them to disengage early. That was, until one of them, where through a combination of unforeseen circumstances he was captured and tortured by Velaryon soldiers throughout ten days, which left him with eight aggravated, gruesome scars on his torso.
After a costly rescue mounted by his second, he managed to make his way back to Old Wyk with the remainder of his crew and without any loot or thralls to show for it. His father was furious beyond compare, and he roared at his son with unbridled fury, telling him of how far the House of Drumm had fallen because of men like him, men who were too weak to make the Drowned God proud. Rogun did not mind-after what he had endured, a scolding was nothing.


He did mind, however, when his Father woke him up that night. He was not furious, or aggressive, like Rogun had expected. He did not strike him or yell at him further. His father instead mumbled, teary eyed, that he had failed. He knew Rogun did not really believe in the Old Way, in the ancestral magic, in the Drowned God. Everything that had gone awry for their house was because he had rejected his legacy and instead tried to pretend that he was something he could never be.

There was no way he could make this right, he continued, as a stunned Rogun stared in confusion. There was nothing more he could do but join the Drowned God and hope he would forgive him for this most grievous of errors.

And he left, without another word. It took Rogun a minute to understand what he meant, but by the time he stumbled out of the Keep the silhouette of Dunstam Drumm was already halfway inside the water. Rogun dove in the tumultuous sea, desperately swimming towards the rapidly sinking figure, just out of reach no matter how quickly he moved or how much energy he expended.
It could have been the stress, hypoxia, or the fact that a sea at night, even when bathed in the light of a full moon, is an incredibly dark place where the movements of fish can send the mind in a paranoid daze and the shadows dance as if with a mind of their own. It might have been any of these things, but Rogun saw something. Something from the depths grasped his father, pulling him down with the strength of a million men. Rogun didn’t even have time to blink before he disappeared completely, but whatever...that was had far too much mass to hide out of the light’s reach.
It turned, and stared directly at Rogun. He felt it’s presence bore into his soul like a harpoon, obliterating his defenses, leaving him stuck as if he was a hapless fish

The next thing he remembers is the sensation of drowning, of coughing up water that filled his lungs as a startled Drowned Man knelt next to him. For several minutes, he could do nothing but retch the liquid out of his lungs with a horrified look in his eyes.

The Drowned Man was just as concerned. Rogun had been dead for far longer than anyone he had ever seen. He had only performed the kiss of life on him out of desperation, without any real hope that it would actually resuscitate him, and yet the young man was alive. A miracle from the Drowned God, he exclaimed.

Rogun paid little attention-his mind now scarred as horribly as his body, yet filled with a singular purpose, a glimpse of understanding about what his legacy meant. The narrative he was supposed to fit into.

In the years to come, many coastal towns and ports learned to fear the coming of the Bone Hand, a colossus that towered above most men and tore into the opposition with a blood-mad shark’s fury. Rumors abound claimed that arrows bore into his flesh and mauls battered his bones, yet every time he would return, unimpeded, with only a new scar in his battered body to show for it.

 

[lilypollen]

(Let me know if I need to add a bit more or anything extra! I will make everything prettier later on, just wanted to have something down for now)

BASICS
full name: Aislynn Celestina Lannister

Nickname: Azzie

Age: 22

birthday: 259

Gender: Female

House: Lannister

Titles: Lady Mystery, The Trainer, Sharp Point

Religion: The Faith of the Seven

RELATIONS

Parents: NPC

Spouse: None yet

Siblings: Elon Lannister (Younger brother), Bethany Lannister (Older Half-sister)

Offspring: None yet

Affairs: None yet

Relatives: NPC

Factions: The West (Westeros area)

Friends: OPEN

Allies: OPEN

Enemies: OPEN

Nemesis: OPEN

APPEARANCE

height/weight: 5’5/125 lbs.

notable characteristics: Long, blonde hair and blue eyes

MENTAL

Ailments: Aislynn suffers from extreme anxiety. She attempts to conceal how she feels by way of putting out a hardened and tough exterior. Her confidence and stature have been affected greatly since the death of her eldest brother.

Intelligence: Aislynn is average when it comes to intelligence. She could definitely exhibit more intelligent tendencies, but she doesn’t allow herself to overstep any bounds for fear of causing an unexpected disturbance. She likes to be prepared. She only makes contributions to more critical matters at hand when necessary.

PERSONALITY

Personality: Aislynn is headstrong and sassy most of the time. She comes across this way upon meeting strangers and discussing matters of the like that demand her full attention. She is, however, loving and kind to her family. She adores her siblings especially and would do anything for them. She doesn’t allow people to walk over her, but she attempts to prevent that from happening in the first place anyways. Let’s just say that she has a way with words but could use them more to her advantage if she’d allow herself.

Likes: The ocean, the smell of an incoming storm on the horizon, animals (She has a small Russell Terrier dog named Skipper who she plays and trains with often as a pastime)

Dislikes: bigots, those who insult her or her family and/or attempt to tarnish the Lannister name, death

Weaknesses: Deep down, Aislynn can be extremely sensitive. She fears death and the death of her loved ones. She’s never experienced it firsthand as a witness, but any sort of grave news in relation to the family is what could set her off. Any threat that’s been made to the Lannisters, she will be trembling at the core. Throughout these episodes, she will attempt to maintain stoic composure. It's almost as if she's desperately trying to prove she can cheat death.

COMBAT

Skills: Just as she can secretly have a way with words, Aislynn has a way of interacting with simple animals because of her joy and passion that she exudes into Skipper. She has trained him well enough to the point that he is at her beck and call for almost anything. She secretly admires the talents of the Targaryens with raising and taming dragons. She is also quite adept at swimming because of her love for the ocean that brings her peace and tranquility, and is best at fighting in VERY close, yet sneaky combat.

Weaknesses: Her ranged combat skills could use some work as she isn’t that experienced. She’s attempted utilizing a bow and arrow but has failed to accomplish usage of this weapon, which could ultimately be used against her in a potential downfall if she isn’t smart enough to out-maneuver it. She also tends to be quite impulsive when any situation revolves around her family. This in turn can also be used against her.

Weapons: A small dagger with an inscription: “maeg nass aen estar nin dagnir in yngyl im” - translates to “They call me sharp point. I am the slayer of spiders.” ~ This is meaningful to her. She was gifted this piece due to her interesting nature personality and skill-wise.

BIOGRAPHY: Aislynn was born as the younger sister in the Lannister household. She was a child born very in tune to her feelings and emotions and used those to her advantage when caring for her loved ones. Growing up, she was considered “daddy’s little princess.” She got everything she wanted, but she always wanted to ensure that her elder brother, Elon, and Bethany were never left out….especially Bethany. She was a very generous sort, which could sometimes land her into trouble if her father caught her “sharing the wealth” whether that be through word of mouth or by other means. Her father always tried his hardest to raise her “the right way.” She was trained in more ways than one - how to be a proper lady, how to communicate when appropriate, and how to be an individual who shows no mercy when the timing demands it, using the basics of course. Aislynn never understood the third point of view as she believes in understanding reason as it deems necessary. Why was the pressure so high on her to act and behave a certain way compared to Bethany? Oh right….because there was that obvious “difference.” Freedoms seemed limited to Aislynn on occasion because of those expectations. This has always been different though when comprehending any harm that would come to her or her family. Her tone had usually changed in that aspect when she would address others/outsiders or train. Nothing was more outrageous to set her off than the death of her elder brother. With her in-tune emotions running wild all over the place, Aislynn was set over the edge and became an anxious, depressed mess of not conforming to any further ideals and subsequently isolating herself away from that morbid reality. It took her quite some time to recover from the incident. Acknowledging that her brother was gone was the most difficult thing she ever had to do in her life. She would go about each of her days wondering more and more about the details of his death, how it happened, what if it happened to her or anyone else she loved, etc. Disguising her emotions afterward during the healing process was even more challenging. That was and is remains to be the only constant battle she has been facing, a war-driven mind she was gifted with the possibility of no internal resolution. Her skills have been affected, she has visited her peaceful spot near the ocean more, relying on the comfort of nature. Confiding in her siblings has always been something she’s been comfortable with, but even they can’t understand the inner conflict she struggles with daily. Nonetheless, Aislynn has been pushing forward ever since the turn of events to support the Lannister House in any way she can. To her, life is but a reckless yet unfortunately normal turn of events, but to others, she remains to be a mysterious sort to crack.
__________________________________

 

[Kovacs]

• .
• .

• Her blood made these shores; her bones the beams, her jaws the throne and her teeth, the very Crown of the Ironborn.

  Tarja Greyjoy

  enter
• • .
  • .
  • .
  • .

  • her theme

    song for the sea

    0:00

    3:01

    vitals

    Tarja Greyjoy

    "Tari", "Ria"

    24

    257 AC

    Female

    House Greyjoy

    the Pythoness of Pyke, the Iron Witch, Nymph of Nagga

    religion: the Drowned God
  • visage

    height

    5'1

    weight

    105 lbs.

    hair

    
    Tarja's tresses are long, uninterrupted waves of angelic blonde, unbridled and wild. They run like a river past the small of her back, forming naturally into loose, silky ringlets. Various braids, woven with the bones of small sea creatures, tangle in alongside the rest of her hair.
    
    

    eyes

    
    Tarja's eyes are an alluring, arctic grey shade with specks of murky dark blue.
    
    

    physique

    
    Tarja is a small yet sensuous beauty; with a slender, nymph-like frame and comely figure, she is indeed a rare contrarian against the stolid, thickset shapeliness of the typical Ironborn woman.
    
    

    distinguishable features

    
    Thanks to her height, Tarja appears to be much younger than her twenty-four years, complimenting the naturally coquettish way she maintains herself in speech and manner. Her beauty is her most distinguishable and indistinguishable weapon. It's ethereal yet feral nature cuts sharp like sea water against jagged cliffside rock, and is often the kind of poison that men are drawn to, like bears to honeycomb. All these aspects seem to crystallize as the very windows of the human soul: her wolfish eyes, which glisten like silver daggers, ready to plunge themselves into you, if you'd dare let her.
    
    

    face claim

    
    Thea Sofie Lock Neass.
    
  • likes

    
    TBD.
    
    

    dislikes

    
    TBD.
    
    

    ailments

    
    sadistic personality disorder
    
    

    TBD.
    
    

    mind

    mythos

    childhood

    TBD.
    
  • gallery

    
    

    parents

    
    Lord Harren Stark of the North and Lady Mirrena Greyjoy of the Iron Islands
    
    

    spouse

    
    None yet. (Gods have mercy)
    
    

    siblings

    
    Daerion Greyjoy : younger twin brother and heir of the Iron Islands
    
    

    offspring

    
    Gods' no!
    
    

    affairs

    
    She is the most skilled cocktease in all the Seven Kingdoms
    
    

    relatives

    
    None
    
    

    friends

    
    Rogun Drumm (to be expanded on), open
    
    

    allies

    
    Herself, her twin brother and the great sea serpent Nagga
    
    

    Enemies

    
    Any and all mainlanders
    
    

    nemesis

    
    Those who oppose the restoration of the Old Way
    
    

    skills

    
    TBD.
    
    

    weaknesses

    
    TBD.
    
    

    Weapons

    
    TBD.
    
    

    additional info

coded by natasha.

 

[uwupolice]

ADIRA MORMONT, REGENT OF BEAR ISLAND

THE HUNTRESS, SLAYER OF IRONBORN, THE ARCHER OF THE NORTH

​

HERE WE STAND

HERE WE STAND ADIRA MORMONT “ THE HUNTRESS ” “ We are not a large House, but we’re a proud one. And every man and woman from Bear Island fights with the strength of ten mainlanders ” [ 12/16/20] @uwupolice ...

docs.google.com

​