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[TheFool]

Character Sheet
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Spoiler: CHARACTER SHEET

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Appearance
Your character’s appearance, whether a picture or description ( no anime ).

Name
Your character’s name. Example,
Ryman Tully
( Note : names should be canon, please refer to the wiki. )

Sex
Self-explanatory.

Age
Your character’s age.

Marital Status
Is your character married? Single and ready to mingle?

Family
Your character’s family.
Please, if you can, post a family tree.
( you can make one here. )

Biography
If you wish, you can write a short biography of your character's life up to RP’s starting point.
Not necessary if you don't want to.

Other
Anything else of interest?
Your character’s fear?
Your character’s talents?
Your character’s favourite colour?

Biscuit
And finally, if your character was a biscuit - what kind of biscuit would they be and why?
If you're stuck, just say fig roll.


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[High Moon]

Claim

 

[Optimus Princeps]

• Luthor Tyrell
• Biography
• Misc. Information

• 
  
  
  
  
  General Information
  
  Name:
  
  Luthor Tyrell
  
  Sex:
  
  Male
  
  Age:
  
  52 — Born in the Great Summer of 248
  
  Marital Status:
  
  Single — Never married
  
  Moniker:
  
  Lord of Highgarden
  Lord Paramount of the Reach
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Difficult: hard to deal with, manage, or overcome
  
  This word has been used to summarize Luthor Tyrell to even before he came into this world proper. His mother, Lady Shella Tyrell (formerly Dondarrion) groaned over the flippant mood swings caused by her pregnancy with Luthor, or the rambunctious efforts the fetus made during his many months in development. When delivering the young Luthor, Shella remained in labor for close to four days before the little lord finally slipped out into the world proper, much to the delight and aggravation of those around him. Idle rumors from those who have served House Tyrell all these years claim it was Luthor Tyrell who soured the relationship between Lord Malentine Tyrell and Lady Shella, the latter swearing off any further children after delivering two sons for her husband.
  
  Whatever stirred this conflict between husband and wife, lord and lady, it was to shape the formative years of Luthor and Belond Tyrell greatly. Arguments between their parents grew as frequent as falling leaves in Autumn. Soon, they stopped eating together, leaving the children to suffer the ire of one if they ate with the other. This had to break, and break it did, once Luthor turned five, Lady Shella Tyrell was no longer found living in Highgarden. It was announced that Lady Shella decided to take an oath to the Seven, devote herself to the faith now that her motherly duties were over with, and left to be a Silent Sister. Luthor's memory contradicts the story his father wove, featuring a hysterical Lady Shella as Lord Tyrell's cousins and kin dragged the woman into a wagon and latched it tight from outside.
  
  Not a year later, Dyanna Targaryen became their step mother, and before either boy truly understood the consequences of this action, they had two siblings on the way.
  
  Both boys soured on their father, taking silent and troubling methods to make Malentine's life more difficult. Belond, once he was old enough, pushed off marriage until he was dragged into the Starry Sept. Then, he took to drinking, and humiliating himself in the presence of noble guests. Luthor did not have the courage of his brother. Luthor moped, and argued, but did not drink himself into oblivion, or impregnate commoners with perverse glee, advertising his children to the Reach.
  
  Luthor pushed off marriage, much like Belond, but found the pull of his father tightening as he reached his third decade of life. A quick, hasty decision that Luthor was unsure of for years after was made. Further ruining Malentine's ambition of uniting powerful houses to his through marriage, Luthor joined the Seven, becoming a Septon. 33 years, he served as a Septon from cities such as King's Landing to Oldtown, and fell to little more than hay hamlets in the Marches or caves in the Vale. A wide traveling and well considered septon, Luthor grew to this life style, finding the love of a father in the father.
  
  It was a major shock to the order when, not a month ago, Luthor decided to abandon his vows and claim the title of Lord of Highgarden after his elder brother's passing.
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Spoiler: Family Tree

  
  
  Lord Tyrell's Hobby's
  Herbalism
  Mathematics
  Shore-line Fishing
  Record Keeping
  
  

• Cynthia Banefort
• Biography
• Misc. Information

• 
  
  
  
  
  
  General Information
  
  Name:
  
  Cynthia Banefort
  
  Sex:
  
  Female
  
  Age:
  
  17 — Born in the Spring of 283
  
  Marital Status:
  
  Single — Never married
  
  Moniker:
  
  Lady of the Banefort
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  Frail.
  Weak.
  Frightened.
  Introvert.
  
  Cynthia Banefort, daughter of "Sharp Eyes" Robert Banefort and Beatrice Payne, one of many children in their family but the first girl to the proud parents. Cynthia came early into live, nearly a full month ahead of schedule and eager to explore the world. Her birth caused certain complications, making Cynthia's growth elongated, her development strained, she couldn't speak until later in her second year and motor functions came and went with the days. Cynthia has always been considered a sickly girl, one who's survival was in constant question. Her many relatives dotted over her especially because of this, with cousins, second cousins and the even vaguer third and fourth cousins being forced to include the young girl in their play time activities, despite her physical inabilities.
  
  A timid but curious child, Cynthia and her large family were relatively happy. There was little to want. There were no immediate, life threatening feuds inside or outside the family. Loyalty to the crown and lion were not in question. In fact. Robert Banefort was an avid supporter of the Lannisters, toasting them and their good health every banquet he threw, regardless if the Lion revealed itself in their company. For this, it was truly a shame when a sickness swept through the Banefort, a carrion stench lingering where it trodded. The immediate family was decimated after weeks of anguish. Cousins, second cousins, and third cousins all stayed their distance while servants of even further familial ties were in constant care of the sick and dying.
  
  Robert Banefort went first, a fever taking him. Beatrice followed suit, grief collapsing her heart. The short-lived Lord Petyr Banefort pushed himself to recover, ventured to Lannisport to take part of a tourney as an esteemed guest, and died after his symptoms resurfaced. The other siblings did not last long. Curiously, only little Cynthia, twelve at the time, survived. She fought off the illness and managed to remain healthy, but sorrow for her family forever lingered on her, a foul stench that caused her heart to weep.
  
  Lord Robert's brother, Eddard Banefort, has been steward for the previous five years. Though as she grew in age, Cynthia has been allowed to weigh in on certain options. It's heavily believed Eddard Banefort intends to marry Cynthia to his son, Lucas.
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  Family tree
  
  Spoiler

  
  
  Cynthia's Hobby's
  Talking
  Listening to Stories
  Frolicking in the Fields and Hills
  Riding horses
  
  
  

 

[idalie]

The Stark of Harrenhal

​

Name: Dorren Stark, Lord of Harrenhal
Sex: Male
Age: 27
Marital Status: Betrothed to Lyanna Manderly
Family:

Appearance:
A broad, physically intimidating man standing around 6'3". His squared, masculine jaw is accentuated by a thick, groomed beard contrasting Dorren's pale Northern complexion. Shaggy hair is swept back, presenting high cheekbones and an often dangerous scowl gathered above a straight-bridged nose for a strong profile. Athletic and easy on the eye his physique is the result of rigorous exercise from a variety of his hobbies, that and the upkeep of skills in the name of self-preservation. Dressed in plain but rich tunics and earthy colours, supplied with good furs and occasionally given metallic trim, his perception of King's Landing and the King's court is one major eyesore.

Biography:
The youngest son of Osric Stark, Dorren was raised in Winterfell with his brother. Mentored to follow in the footsteps of great men and equally accustomed to living in their shadows. Constantly finding himself in and out of trouble, Dorren was noted as the hellraiser, a gifted swordsman and often found outside riding or hunting between more important lessons. He never took it too seriously, Benjen was the eldest - a constant, calming presence who reflected little of Dorren’s chaos. The elder sibling took his studies seriously, was better with words but barely adequate with a blade; the better behaviour made up for it.

Whilst his cousins were generally unproblematic, warm even, Dorren found more in common with his mother's family. Amabel, one of the Blackwoods, was his frequent partner in misadventures from youth to present. She was a sister to him, the closest friend he could’ve asked for and one who was willing to share in his half-baked plans. The exploration of the woodlands, drinking in Winter Town and stumbling back, those untamed days where he could have called himself a real fiend. It kept Osric busy enough, too busy perhaps. The boys were told to welcome their new sibling into the world, a daughter who died within hours of birth and remained unnamed. Dorren’s first real brush with death and it was within the walls of his own home, ones that he escaped ever more frequently.

His mother would pass around his sixteenth year, driving Dorren away from his family. Benjen only became angrier at how his brother handled it, unlike before where they had friendly banter it was fighting. Uneasy silences and words that weren’t so easy to take back. Their mourning wasn’t shared, but vastly distant and Dorren drank himself into plenty of fights with underhanded folks. The origin of his facial scars a punch-up gone wrong and testament to the stupidity of youth. His father didn’t ask questions when he dragged him home and Dorren didn’t complain when he was struck across the cheek for it.

The night became a significant turning point in who he was, for the next year, he’d meet the girl with golden hair. A Manderly, to the disdain of the Starks, but her name was Lyanna. He first thought of her as a lonely heiress who needed a kind face, for she was young - the tender age of twelve which had reminded him of Amabel. Her stay at Winterfell became something of a catalyst to their relationship, starting as admirable friends before he had realised she was more than that. The inkling was set, the seed planted, one which would flourish as they exchanged letters through the years. Her last day of that initial stay, Lyanna kissed his cheek in a memorable tip-toed stand and he reciprocated with lips that lingered on her hand.

After that, the letters flew back and forth to the disapproval of his father. They were of simple subjects, gradually affectionate and in keeping. A romance of words. That same year his Uncle passed and Winterfell grieved. Cregan, the new Lord, who would suffer his fair share of tragedy. Dorren tried to visit White Harbour when possible, the occasional trade trip or passing political errand. They were hindered but not hopeless. Upon the death of Lyanna’s mother, Dorren made the trip without ulterior motive and in compassion.

Their first real kiss would be held on the castle steps and a future was all the more visible. Every moment he spent with her, every stolen moment and the vision grew stronger. Within the next two years, Harrenhal would become his fathers, a gift from Cregan and thus began the Stark occupation. Pulling their funds to make it habitable, Osric took up residence. Benjen perished that year, tetanus had him a withered and drawn-out demise. Dorren tended his bedside with his brother's wife till he was no more. Osric suffered a minor stroke from the stress, yet survived to see his youngest boy betrothed.

With Lyanna’s father on his deathbed, his visits lasted longer and eventually, he promised that man he’d look after his daughter. Bestowed the blessing of two men who perished not long after one another. For Osric was found cold soon as he agreed to the matrimony some months later. The engagement was stretched between Harrenhal and White Harbour, long months of visitation and plenty of excuses over the two years they coordinated their feelings. Not enough time, not enough money, the materials and planning. Dorren was not quite the rebellious boy of Winterfell but a man, though he loves his betrothed - he can’t help but feel she is drifting. Their happy ending no place in sight. Questions arise more frequently of when they’ll wed, Lyanna’s disinterest suggests it may be best to break it off before his prime is lost; whether or not he can sacrifice his childhood sweetheart comes the cracks in his resolve.

Other:
He fears Lyanna betraying his trust and being wrong about his choices for the foreseeable future.

Biscuit:
Nice Biscuit - Argue about pronunciation, nobody goes out their way to buy it but equally like it in good measure, how nice is it really?

"Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."
​

***​

Mags the Skirt

​

Name: Margaret "Mags" the Skirt
Sex: Female
Age: 23
Marital Status: Unmarried
Family: Unknown

Appearance:
A buxom red-head of pale complexion, standing at an average height of 5'4". Her soft, rounded face is prone to flush with alcohol and heat, plump lips only accentuated by the pinching and slathering of balm. Small hands are well-manicured, ceremoniously worked with various creams to keep them free of any hark back to her labouring past. Perfume settles in the hollow of her collarbones, dabbed across her forearms and cleavage to give an air of cleanliness. A cheap scent that lingers among the candles and incense which hazes the room for customers to look slightly better than it may in daylight. Wearing loose cotton robes, easily dropped and rarely much too complicated on her nightly rush, during errands one might find her in a more form-fitting and sightly attire.

Biography:
A child of rape, Margaret was born in the field behind an inn. Swiftly untangled from her mothers' legs, covered in blood and left by the backdoor. Naked and wailing with a head of wispy red hair. The innkeepers raised her as their own although never out of love, something she would become easily accustomed to. She was raised to do the laundry and stoke the fires, cook the meals and make the beds. Whilst called all manner of names, her whispered origins said to have been beyond the wall or some wildlings forgotten bastard, she persevered. When it came to her knuckles thwacked for missing her chores, she persevered. You could either draw strength or fall to weakness and she had sworn never to abide by failure.

Like all children left to their imaginations, she often thought of where her mother had gone. If she would one day return, topped in ruffles and frills with balmy breath and expensive perfume to tell her she had married into the kind graces of a lovesick lord. Or perhaps her father, a dashing knight under the king who would search for her and refuse to rest until he was reunited with his blood. Neither came to fruition, but she would. From child to woman, her plump face thinned and hips widened, boys looked at the wildling girl with thrill instead of disgust.

Some of those men came through town and paid for her company, fifteen years old, the innkeeper pocketed it with the attitude of a priest. The first lie was that it was just one night, the second was she could trust them. Sold into the arms of paying customers by the man who had proclaimed to be her surrogate father. She was suddenly important, put on a pedestal to keep her hands soft, meals rounded down to keep her slim for the soldiers and workers. Any filth who stepped through the door. But Mags wasn’t like any smallfolk, she had her plans. It was understood that she would never marry well, no little lordling would look at her with love but she could make them look at her with desire.

So she drew strength once more from the bruises on her pale arms and in the night, fled her place of birth with only the clothes on her back and what money she’d saved from her meagre tips. Caught trying to escape on a cargo ship outward bound, she was ransomed. Paid and bought for by the infamous Ser Gwayne Kettleblack to work with his girls. She wondered if it had been a cruel trick of fate to bring her from one brothel to another. Kings Landing was a world away from what she knew, it left her with stars in her eyes and whisked her into a decent set of clothes and cheap perfume.

It was a dirty place, but she made a name for herself. The wildling for men who wanted a challenge, the red-head for those who liked it flat on the bed. Six years she's worked for Kettleblack, avoided one too many pregnancies to get rid of and kept herself clean for her regulars. They keep the promise that the debt will be cleared someday, some girls still believe it. Mags has her own schemes of how to escape the brothel, starting with keeping her tips and working up to being one of the favourites. During her time she's now in charge of the newbies, gives explanations, keeps them in order. But the young mind has plans and machinations, her heart has since abandoned its rightful place.

Other:
Fears being unable to escape the lot shes landed with and bearing an unwanted child.

Biscuit:
Shortbread - Rich, favoured by old white men, melts in your mouth.

"I wanted fine dresses and pretty pearls, so they wrote me a contract and gave me a bed."​

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[dendygar]

Amabel Blackwood reserved

 

[dendygar]

Name
Amabel Blackwood

Sex
Female

Age
24

Marital Status
Betrothed to Jon Baratheon

Family


Biography

Amabel was the baby of the Blackwood family, Braeden being born two years before her, and Conran four. Her mother passed away during childbirth, something that Amabel deeply blamed herself for as well as Conran. Braeden and their father were very close with Amabel and always took the upmost care with nurturing her as best she could, as well as the maids and septons. The Blackwood's weren't very religious up until the weeks preluding their ultimate demise, in which Amabel was visiting her cousin in Winterfell for some time to get away from the suffocating atmosphere of Raventree Hall. Her entire family caught the flu, as well as a huge amount of servants and council members- and out of them, the Blackwood family perished. Amabel returned home to have her entire life uprooted and had to begin living an as orphan as well as the head of House Blackwood.

Until Deston came along. Her father had slept with a tavern wench named Greta Rivers shortly prior to meeting the love of his life Marta. From their union came Deston, and when he had heard that his father and the rest of the family had been wiped out, he offered to step up to the plate as Lord of Raventree Hall since the laws forbade his half-sister from claiming full rights. Amabel is deeply upset by this, and she has been forced to live with a stranger for the last seven years. Even though Deston is a soft spoken, pious and well-meaning man, Amabel cannot stand him for coming in and taking the claim that she feels like she rightfully has. She often butts heads with the council over this, as well as Deston. In spite of this, he tries to be the bigger person, but Amabel is ruthless and goes for the throat. The only time they seem to get along is if they hunt together, and if they train together.

Other
Amabel bears scars on her body from being nearly mauled by a bear as a young teenager. She fears of losing her family name and bringing shame upon her house and not following her deceased family's wishes. Amabel is an amazing archer and rider, able to shoot from horseback at nearly any target. She's very athletic beneath those dresses, and can run for long distances without tiring. Her favorite color is some variation of a rich, deep blue.

Biscuit
A drop biscuit! She's coarse in appearance and personality, and she can't be kneaded or rolled (swayed one way or another).​

 

[ReverseTex]

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"You cannot enjoy the pleasures of heaven without indulging in the pleasures of Hell... "

[/div]​

» THE CROW
Name: Syreo Essaar
Nickname(s): The Crow (originated from his mother calling him “Little Crow”)
Age: 30
Gender: Male

Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Marital Status: Single

» family;

NOTE: The only common knowledge here is the occupation & status of his parents.

• Lazio Essaar ~ Father ~Fisherman ~ Deceased
• Saeila Essaar ~ Father ~Jeweler~ Status Unknown
• Aero Essaar~ Younger Brother ~ Child ~Status Unknown
• Dorira Essaar ~ Younger Sister ~ Prostitute ~ Alive (according to letter received 6 moons ago)

» skills;

• Adept at mercenary work (investigation, combat, stealing, exc...)
• Womanizer
• Drinking & Gambling

» biography;

NOTE: None of this is common knowledge (minus the first & last bullet)

• Syero was born in the port city of Ebonhead, a city encompassed by the Summer Isles.
• He worked with both of his parents throughout childhood: either by a deckhand or as a smith. Syero preferred his mother’s work, as it provided him a chance to play with fire.
• His younger brother, Aero, was kidnapped at the age of 10 by slavers. His father was murdered in the altercation, as the incident occurred aboard his father
• At the age of 17, Syero left home in pursuits of a career in Myr. During his stay, he committed multiple crimes for pay. At age 20, he joined the Golden Company
• At age 28, Syero sailed for Westeros in search of new adventure & opportunity. His tenure with the Golden Company led to his recruitment as a Goldencloak for K Landing

» biscuit;
A biscuit in the United States and parts of Canada, is a variety of small baked goods with a firm browned crust and a soft, crumbly interior. They are usually made with baking powder or baking soda as a chemical leavening agent rather than yeast. They developed from hardtack which was first made from only flour and water, with later first lard and then baking powder being added.

Syero is this biscuit because he is foreign to the lands of Westeros. As am in this server since everyone is a Brit. He’s yummy like a southern biscuit, and soft. The end.

» other;

• Syero wears twin golden earring: They were handcrafted by his mother with gold he smelted
• He also wears 8 golden armbands to symbolize his time with the Golden Company
• Syero also has a intriguing back tattoo of a pair of wings: done in the style of Summer Isles tree carving.

[/div]

codedbycrucialstar ​

 

[RayPurchase]

♛ ♛ ♛
The Coming Storm
Our’s is the Fury

Appearance

Name
Ormund Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands

Sex
Male

Age
29

Marital Status
Single

Family


Biography
The eldest son of Boros Baratheon, Ormund was destined to lead from birth, to have have sovereignty over the Stormlands, the hard rugged lands that had been gifted to the creator of their house, Orys Baratheon the bastard brother of Aegon the Conqueror, taken from the cold, dead hands of the last Durrandon Storm King. In their place House Targareyn had a loyal vassal, a house through which they had some shared blood. As such Ormund and his father growing up were a frequent presence at court, his time split almost equally between the two, becoming a relatively known figure at King's Landing. The Baratheon link was further forged by the appointment of his uncle Rogar (his father's younger brother) as a member of the King's Guard. Ormund had always been close to his uncle, a mountain of a man who's ability with the blade could be matched by few, his raw strength teamed with a speed and agility seemingly unnatural for such a large man. Given his skill and House Baratheon's loyalty, being chosen to the King's Guard was not altogether surprising. Ormund was particularly close to his uncle, unlike his father he was far more gregarious and open, one of the perks of being the younger brother and the proverbial spare to the heir.

Occasionally sitting in his father's place at Storm's End, Ormund forged a reputation of a fair ruler, granting clemency where possible, or less harsh sentences. This was said to be from his closeness to his uncle, Lord Boros was quite the opposite of his brother. He spent his early years split between the Stormlands and King's Landing, he did several tours of his father's vessels and time spent soldiering in the Dornish Marches, in times gone by this would have been far too great a risk for the heir of Storm's End, but given the stability in the region with the ‘Conquest’ of Dorne, the once great Vulture Kings were now little more than glorified bandits. As such it was here that he learnt the ways of war. Not of great armies clashing under magnificent banners, glorious charges and tales of heroics, but of the type of war that does not create heroes or great sagas, just victors crowned in blood. Flushing bandits from remote hilltop and desert villages, where the old man who greeted you cheerily by the well could easily have a dagger behind his back, ready to skin you as soon as smile at you. This hardened Ormund, and began the development of a vicious streak within me, as well as granting him several scars, both physical and emotional. What boyhood naivety remained was largely stripped from him, however it was 5 years ago that it was truly removed.

Word arrived from King’s Landing by Raven, it contained no explanation, no attempt to assuage broken hearts or hot heads, it stated the facts simply. Ser Rogar Baratheon, Knight of the King’s Guard, was dead, executed as a traitor for what was described as illicit meetings with the Queen. Lord Boros was not even given the chance to plead his brother’s case or ask for clemency. In fact it was weeks later that word filtered down of the manner of Ser Rogar’s passing, it being neither clean nor quick. In their reaction the Baratheon’s were united, Lord Boros and his two sons withdrew from wider realm. Summons went unanswered, Ravens returned letterless, and for all intents and purposes The Stormlands were shut off from the Capital. Trade still flowed and taxes continued to paid, but there was little word, and the young Lord who had been a staple of court, simply disappeared into the craggy hills and rough wilderness of his homeland. He continued his path to succeeding his father, colder and harsher than before. Tales filtered out of whole villages in the Dornish Marches put to the sword. Of course such things couldn be put down to idle gossip, but then again it was noted that bandit raids into Dorn and The Reach were noticeably subdued.

In 298AC, at the age of 27, his father and Lord, Boros Baratheon, passed from this world, journeying to The Father’s Golden Hall. Ormund kept up his father’s policy of isolationism, though word was sent to many lords throughout the land of the rise of the new Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, the message to the King was noticeably late. This exile may well have continued, for 2 years it did, with his closest confident being his youngest brother, elevated to the position of Captain of the Guard, content to remain in Storm’s End, brooding like the dark clouds that often whipped up the sea’s fury below them. In their work of solidifying The Stormlands and turning from the world, such things as marriage and family fell by the wayside, instead Ormund threw himself into maintaining and protecting his home with a near enough zealous energy.

And then a Raven arrived. One announcing the death of the King that he so loathed.

Other
Ormund is a fine swordsman. Whilst his brother is an unstoppable force, Ormund is the more refined fighter, preferring the blade to the warhammer. That is not to say that he is a clean fighter however, more than willing to fight underhand to win, not just in a physical fight either.

His relationship with his brother is particularly strong, given the fact that they are the only family they have. He trusts Jon explicitly and did not consider any other candidate for the position of Captain of his guard. He allows Jon to fill the role of the blunt and intimidating instrument, allowing him to keep his own hands clean to a certain extent.

He stands at just about 6 Foot, and is well built and broad of shoulder, even if not to the extent of his brother, and so appears almost slender when next to him.

Is known for his temperance around food and wine, in fact it has been some time since any feast of note was hosted at Storm’s End.

Biscuit
Ginger Nut - A bit of a rarity and not often seen. Packs a hell of a punch though.


♛ ♛ ♛​

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Name
Addam Stark


Age

21
Marital Status
Married

Family
Your character’s family.
Please, if you can, post a family tree.
( you can make one here. )

Biography
Born as his brother's junior, Addam was never expected to amount to anything. At best, he'd be a bannerman to his brother, and marry a woman of decent standing. His entire life, Addam felt inferior, unwanted, especially by his father. Something that would have his brother be lightly punished would have Addam thrown in the stables for a night. This favoritism, mixed with feelings of inadequacy, caused Addam to develop an intense resentment towards his father. He'd always known that the illusion of the honorable Stark was false, a ruse. His views were different than those before him. Addam did not believe in some ideal view of life. The world was a cold, cruel place. House Stark was built on the bones of the old King's, and it's history inked in their blood. Yet he still retained the same belief in honor. That was until his sixteenth name day.

Upon becoming a man, Addam was given a small detachment of retainers to deal with some brigands in the nearby forests, as a way for him to prove his masculinity. After tracking them for several days, the young Stark came across their handiwork. An entire village razed to it's foundation, it's men slaughtered, it's women violated and left to rot. His eyes were opened that day. Once those responsible were found, Addam ordered their camp burned to the ground, with soldiers stationed at the entrances to kill any who fled. Those who surrendered were hung with no trial. Addam returned a changed man, hardened and determined. He would do anything for his family, and he dedicated himself to serving his brother and the North. Somehow, a woman warmed Addam's heart, Giya Mormont, to be exact. They married several years ago, and have been blessed with a single daughter, who just had her first name day. Addam loves his wife and daughter more than anything in the world. They are his everything, and a North without them is a North not worth protecting.



Other
-Addam is a skilled swordsman, and almost never leaves without his sword
-He has crippling claustrophobia, due to cold, cramped nights in the Winterfell stables
-He has a love of riding, and feels trapped when unable to be outside for long periods of time
-Addam has a hidden love of reading and philosophy, something he wouldn't dare admit to his siblings


Addam would most likely be a molasses biscuit. Plain and hard on the outside, but a bit sweet on the inside. Just don't expect anything fancy.​

 

[Togy]

♛ ♛ ♛


Appearance

Name
Lord Ethan Arryn

Sex
Male

Age
39

Marital Status
Single, occasionally

Family

Biography
Growing up in the eyrie alongside his brother Eustice, life had been good. He’d read his books like a good little boy before running off with his older brother to have some fun around the keep. The two would come up with schemes to raid the pantry or sneak into court, have little duels near the moon pool, and play fake court.

Unfortunately for the dynamic duo, it turns out that with age comes distance. Due to rapidly growing differences in views and fastly growing flaws, the two built up a sizable distance relationship wise. Ethan believed that if they wanted to improve their house's standing, they needed to do so themselves, through whatever means. This obviously lead to disagreements between the two, eventually leading to an argument that resulted with their relationship being torn apart. Words were said and punches were thrown.

Desiring nothing more than to get as far away from Eustace as possible, Ethan hoped to the gods that his father left him ownership of Gulltown, but of course that was too much to hope for. Because his father died before Ethan and Eustace's falling out, they'd been under the impression that the two were still inseperable after he died, so he left Ethan ownership of the Gate Of The Moon, or as Ethan's taken to calling it, "The Bloody Gate". So, whenever his brother is heading out to anywhere important, Ethan has to see him. Fantastic.

Other
Is quite a good swordsman, has a lot of friends in very low places who don’t care how much lower they go, is an adept medieval politician, has no other fears than being burned alive, obviously has a terrible relationship with his brother that he has no intention of fixing, and uses very controversial methods in getting what he wants.

Biscuit
If Ethan ever became a biscuit than he’d at least be a biscuit with a razor blade in it. His last act of spite would be enacted once you took a bite out of him. The biscuit itself would be soft and doughy as well, so you wrongly feel safe in eating it right before you chomp on the razor blade.


♛ ♛ ♛​

 

[ailurophile]

• R. TARGARYEN
• S. MARTELL
• E. STARK
• M. WESTERLING
• T. WATERS
• R. FLORENT
• L. ???

• 
  
  
  NAME Rhaenyra Targaryen.
  
  SEX Female.
  
  AGE Twenty-one.
  
  MARITAL STATUS Married to Guy Stokeworth.
  
  FAMILY See Targaryen family tree.
  
  APPEARANCE With her classic Valyrian features, Rhaenyra is ethereally beautiful. She allegedly has not cut her hair since childhood and prides herself on its (difficult to manage) length. Though excessive, the jewelry she accessorizes her outfits with is something to behold, although it tends to weigh her down.
  
  BIOGRAPHY W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT Macaron: sweet, expensive, too much of her will make you sick.
  
  OTHER
  - Despite being a grown woman, Rhae is known to throw full-on tantrums, some of which last for days on end.
  - Since she was a little girl, Rhae has been fascinated with amateur dramatics and fancies herself as an actress: she used to practice with visiting troupes and would perform her own - original monologues outside her father's door.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  NAME Sylva Martell, a.k.a Sylva the Fair.
  
  SEX Female.
  
  AGE Forty.
  
  MARITAL STATUS Widowed, previously married to Edmyn Tully.
  
  FAMILY See Martell family tree.
  
  APPEARANCE The beauty of Dorne, Sylva is known for her good looks. Notably, her age is difficult to guess just by looking at her: she prides herself on maintaining a youthful appearance but refuses to divulge her secret.
  
  BIOGRAPHY W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT A gingersnap: spicy.
  
  OTHER
  - Now that her husband is gone, Sylva has a preference for younger men.
  - She drinks a lot of wine.
  
  
• 
  
  
  NAME Erena Stark, a.k.a The Virgin of Winterfell.
  
  SEX Female.
  
  AGE Twenty-four.
  
  MARITAL STATUS Unmarried.
  
  FAMILY See Stark family tree.
  
  APPEARANCE W.I.P.
  
  BIOGRAPHY W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT Jaffa Cake: relatively appealing on the outside, party on the inside.
  
  
  OTHER
  - Despite it being unusual, Erena has refused any proposal of marriage due to a reluctance to leave her home.
  - Erena is a talented singer, and loves animals, particularly rodents.
  
  
• 
  
  
  NAME Myranda Westerling.
  
  SEX Female.
  
  AGE Twenty-nine.
  
  MARITAL STATUS ???.
  
  FAMILY See Westerling family tree.
  
  APPEARANCE In her teenage years Myranda was hailed as a beauty, however stress and grief have taken their toll. She had recently lost a lot of weight and does not sleep as much as she needs to. Essentially she is pretty but a shell of her former self.
  
  BIOGRAPHY W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT Rich tea: bland and sad.
  
  OTHER
  - In her spare time, Myranda writes terrible (and often mournful) poetry.
  
  
• 
  
  
  NAME Tyana Waters.
  
  SEX Female.
  
  AGE Nineteen.
  
  MARITAL STATUS Unmarried.
  
  FAMILY See Kettleblack family tree.
  
  APPEARANCE Tyana’s main insecurity is that she resembles the Kettleblacks, but misses the mark just slightly. She’s not quite tall enough, and her hair is several shades too light.
  
  BIOGRAPHY W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT Viennese Whirl: pretends to be expensive but you can get a packet on offer for like £1.
  
  OTHER
  - While Tyana has managed to find herself a good position, she still operates as though she has no idea where her next meal will come from: therefore she is prone to stealing from customers, employers, and passersby.
  - Tyana is a talented dancer and contortionist.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  NAME Rosaline Florent.
  
  SEX Female.
  
  AGE Sixteen.
  
  MARITAL STATUS Unmarried.
  
  FAMILY See Florent family tree.
  
  APPEARANCE Ros is known for being small for her age in a way politely described as ‘dainty’, but which is more frail than anything else. Her eyes are a greyish-green, with her fiery hair being arguably her best feature.
  
  BIOGRAPHY W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT A brandy snap: brittle but sweet.
  
  OTHER
  - Aside from being petite, Ros is known for being incredibly shy, and prone to fainting.
  - She has a talent for embroidery.
  
  
• 
  
  
  NAME Ludd.
  
  SEX Male.
  
  AGE Unknown, presumably around sixteen.
  
  MARITAL STATUS Unmarried.
  
  FAMILY See Florent family tree.
  
  APPEARANCE Short, round, and rosy-cheeked: Ludd is about as tall as he is wide.
  
  BIOGRAPHY W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT Chocolate-covered marshmallow teacake. Obviously.
  
  OTHER
  - Ludd is over-indulgent and can be persuaded to do almost anything if he is bribed with sweets.
  - As well as being a teenage glutton, Ludd is rumoured to be unusually handsy with young women.
  - Aside from Lord Florent, Ludd is also always seen with his ridiculously overweight cat, Carrot.
  
  
  

 

[Yarrow]

Name
Damon "The Wise" Redwyne, Lord of the Arbor

Sex
Male

Age
28

Marital Status
Unmarried

Family
Redwyne Family

Biography
Damon was a prick in his childhood. Together with his twinbrother he pulled many pranks on the people living in the castle. Most of the time they got away with it, since people didn't really knew who pulled the prank. The twins were inseparable. When Damon got older he became more serious, much to the irritation of his twinbrother. Damon was being prepared to become a Lord of the Arbor one day. When his father died, Damon took over as Lord of the Arbor

Other
He's pushed by his mother to find a wife and start making a family.

Biscuit
Digestive

Name
Jason "The Charming" Redwyne

Sex
Male

Age
28

Marital Status
Unmarried

Family
Redwyne Family

Biography
Jason and Damon were inseparable. But when Damon was prepared to take over as Lord of the Arbor, Jason decided that he would go on a voyage. During a timespan of five years he visited the Free Cities and Slavers Bay. While doing this, he required knowledge about sailing and formed a small fleet of ships. He also enjoyed the many pleasures these cities offer. With his charms he persuaded many people.

Other
After years of traveling he returned back to Westeros, not to the Arbor but to King's Landing where he was appointed Master of Ships.

Biscuit
Sultana

 

[ailurophile]

NAME Mya Karstark (née Torrent).

SEX Female.

AGE Eighteen.

MARITAL STATUS Married to Jeor Karstark.

FAMILY W.I.P.

APPEARANCE Most notably, Mya is so short in stature that from a distance she is usually mistaken for a child. She has fair, slightly curly hair and deep brown eyes, with freckles across the bridge of her nose. As of late her nose has been pink at the tip, as have her cheeks, from a generic common cold she's dealing with.

BIOGRAPHY One of seven daughters, Mya grew up on the island of Littlesister. Rather than being indifferent towards her the way he was towards most of her sisters, Mya's father particularly disliked her: this did not seem to bother her too much, possibly because she never caught on properly, but her childhood was still relatively unhappy. She spent an unusual amount of time, tragically, playing with crabs and making up backstories and drama for them. Her sisters fondly remember when she locked herself in her room to mourn the breakup of two married crabs. Crabs.

The first eighteen years of Mya's life were especially uneventful, save for the sickness-related death of one of her infant sisters. Jeor Karstark's unexpected arrival in her home was not unwelcome and, after snubbing her arguably more intelligent elder sister, he took her home to become his wife through a short private ceremony. It was a whirlwind affair and all happened too quickly to process. So far, Mya has been unsuccessful in her attempts to train any woodland creatures.

BISCUIT Cadbury's Animals: small, fun, unpredictable.

OTHER
- Mya is something of an eccentric, and while very friendly and well-meaning, is naive and prone to daydreaming. On a more positive note, despite being mildly confusing, she's usually said to be oddly charming.
- She stands at approximately 4'9" tall.


(Name and love story written by Hypnos. Picture chosen by Mooj.)

 

[Braddington]

• T. Tully
• T. Kettleblack
• E. STARK
• A. Velaryon

• 
  
  
  

  
  ​
  NAME: Tommen "Tom" Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident
  
  SEX: Male.
  
  AGE: Twenty-three.
  
  MARITAL STATUS: Unmarried
  
  FAMILY:
  
  BIOGRAPHY: W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT:
  
  OTHER: W.I.P
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  NAME: Ser Triston Kettleblack, Brother of the Kingsguard
  
  SEX: Male.
  
  AGE: Twenty-five
  
  MARITAL STATUS: Celibate
  
  FAMILY: See Muhammad Mooji for the Kettleblack tree
  
  BIOGRAPHY: W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT: W.I.P
  
  OTHER: W.I.P
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  NAME: Edric Stark
  
  SEX: Male.
  
  AGE: Twenty-four.
  
  MARITAL STATUS: Married, estranged from wife.
  
  FAMILY: See Stark family tree.
  
  BIOGRAPHY: The spare, as the second child of a Lord was often called, Edric was born moments after his twin Erena came into the world. The Maester had either been too incompetent or the Gods were just playing tricks for no one to have noticed before hand. The family were expecting a daughter, nothing more. At the news of a son, however, the bells tolled across the North to hail the arrival. Though the birth was a difficult one and his dear mother was weakened to the point where many did not think she would make it through the next few months. She did. Never the same. As his father held him aloft in his arms, raising him to the moon in the northern sky, it was clear he did not feel the same way about his new son as the realm did. A wolf, aye, but one that would steal away the chickens if kept too close to the coop. An unnatural distrust of his son formed from the moment he tore open his mother to enter this world. If he was to have any semblance of trust, he would have to work for it.
  
  And work he did. For years he tried harder, pushed further to be everything his father saw in his elder brother. Everything he apparently was not. Yet every milestone he achieved was barely noticed, every achievement was nothing more than a tool to fault him on and as another brother came into the world the distrust and hate only grew. Finally, when his father passed around his sixth name-day, the final straw had been reached for even his mother. He was blamed for it. His was the only birth that was hard, his was the only birth that was cursed. He was of a damned line, he had doomed his father and her with his tainted blood. The curse of House Whent lay in him, and she could not accept it was carried through her as well. He was tossed away from family events, trained under the worst swords in Winterfell as to not gain the skill he would no doubt use to one day tear the family apart as he had already done. Yet to everyone else there was nothing there. His mothers demeanor did not change, the honorable Lady Stark stood strong. A good woman with a good family who had lived through the hardship of a husbands death. What lay beneath could tell a different story.
  
  As time went on he simply accepted his life. Withdrawing into himself, spending vast amount of time away from the castle. The news of his engagement, however, meant he could no longer hide. Why the deal had been struck he does not know, it hardly made sense. A Tarth? What on earth kind of match was that for a Stark? The Sapphire Isle was distant and warm. Distant was the word that struck. When it came to light the engagement had been planned by his father years before his death, it mayhaps made some sense. Maybe he thought she'd grow tired of the wintry cold and take Edric with her never to return? It mattered not. He married her. A woman he had never met. In a ceremony where he pledged everything to her for eternity.
  
  The marriage was not a good one.
  
  They were opposites in every way, his heart was cold whilst hers was full of southern life. She was probably more cursed than he in this union, for he did not go south and she was cursed to stay with him in Winterfell. It was perhaps no surprise when rumours of her having an affair swept through the castle. Rumors he did not bother investigating. He had no right to impose on her a love he did not have. It was around this time that his twin came into his life in earnest. He had never been close to her, an oddity among twins, yet his situation did not seem to make their friendship viable. Then he realised she was the only woman on this planet that understood him. Knew what he was going through. Knew what he felt. She was him, after all. Thus begun a relationship no one could know about. A relationship that continued even after Jeyne of Tarth's departure. A relationship that is forbidden by Gods and Man. A relationship he would kill for.
  
  BISCUIT: An Oreo - Dark and hard on the outside with the soft white snows of winter inside.
  
  OTHER:
  - Can barely swing a sword, his training having not really helped in that regard. Though he has some skill with a bow, self-taught.
  - Is multilingual having learnt the corrupted High Valyrian of the Lyseni
  
  
• 
  

  

  
  NAME: Aemon Velaryon - The Hunchback of Driftmark
  
  SEX: Male.
  
  AGE: Forty-six
  
  MARITAL STATUS: Has been rejected multiple times
  
  
  
  BIOGRAPHY: W.I.P.
  
  BISCUIT: W.I.P
  
  OTHER: W.I.P
  
  

 

[BELIAL.]

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"True to our word"

[/div]

» LADY OF WHITE HARBOR;
Name: Lyanna Manderly
Nickname(s): Lyee (L-ee), Lady Manderly, Lady Lyanna
Age: Twenty-two
Gender: Female

Eye Color: blue-grey
Hair Color: dirty blonde
Marital Status: Betrothed to Dorren Stark

» appearance;
Though fairly average in height, Lyanna stands out for the flush to her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye. Her fine hair is long, at about her waist, but she keeps it braided in a bun at the nape of her neck. More oft than not, wispy strands escape and tangle in her long eyelashes. Her frame is average, if a bit on the lean and petite side, and she holds herself tall and strong. Never would you catch Lady Manderly without clutching something in her hand, be it a trinket or a rock. When she was younger she used to fidget with her hair and her teeth, but she keeps herself composed these days. She smells of saltwater and a warm hearth, but often she'll dab a bit of rosewater at her pulse points.

» family;
✦ Edmund Manderly; father - deceased
✦ Alarra Manderly nee Glover; mother - deceased
✦ Cley Manderly; older brother - alive
✦ Alaric Manderly; younger brother - alive
✦ Anya Manderly; younger sister, twin to Alaric - deceased
Family Tree

» skills;
✦ adept at apothecary type demands and abilities; including herbalism, foraging, and an extensive knowledge of applications for poultices, salves and potions.
✦ careful hand; great for sewing, stitching and writing
✦ very strong grasp of trade and managing the affairs of White Harbor
✦ less strong grasp on the intricacies of politics

» biography;
As the second eldest, but a daughter at that, there was an emphasis on Lyanna being a good wife one day-- especially one that would be representative of the Manderly house. Still, she remained privy to the lessons that Cley got on running White Harbor as well as the network of cities that they mandated. Her and her brother were close, always covering up the other's shenanigans. It was his goodwill that got her acquainted with the inner-workings of the trading boats and merchants that came in and out of the port, despite her position as a woman. She took that power for her own good, pursuing her own interest in herbs and healing. She would sneak out with one of the servant’s daughter’s out beyond the walls of White Harbor. There they would forage and pick roots and flowers, leaves and nettle. Lyanna found purpose with whatever came from the sea as well, pouring over apothecary books and extensive accounts of the different purposes that these natural agents had. Despite pursuing other interests, when she was younger she truly looked forward to marrying one day. She envisioned something out of a fairytale. Seeing her own happy parents, and the love they displayed for their children, inspired her as well.

She was chipper and romantic for a time. On a particular trade related trip to Winterfell, the children were granted permission to come along as well. The latitude was slight, but the temperature decreased drastically from White Harbor to Winterfell. The two children, like fish out of water, weren’t sure how to cope. Keeping to themselves for the most part, one morning Lyanna ventured out and came across one of the wards: Dorren Stark. A cousin to the family there, or something like that, she felt drawn to his mischievous ways. He invited her on a couple of his shenanigans, probably out of pity to the younger girl. Entranced by how strange and exciting he was, she fell head over heels. In her young stupor, she daydreamed about the Dashing Dorren whisking her away from the saltwater prison she called home. (Pitiful, really.) On the eve before leaving, after that short visit, she gathered the courage to press a cold kiss against his bare cheek.

They wrote back and forth for some time after. Her brother teased her daily about her affections for the Stark, and Lyanna dispelled them with a haughty glare. In her heart, however, she knew otherwise.

Her mother died when the twins were born, and when Cley and Lyanna were about fifteen and fourteen, respectively. It bludgeoned the children already, but more so when the smaller twin died a few days after their own mother. The other twin, Alaric, was the last thing that the family had of their beloved mother. The dynamic changed a bit after that, with Lyanna beginning to pick up a bit of the slack of running the house. Their father, who had been so in love with his wife, began to show signs of weariness after her passing. Cley was beginning to take more of the pressure off of ruling, and Lyanna slipping between the cracks to help him along. Their father, who was old already, began to fade away-- mentally and physically.

In between all the mishaps and ordeals overtaking New Castle, Lyanna was visited by her suitor. Perhaps it was then that the idea of marriage between the two really became a reality. Shaped by death and molded by this newfound support from, her views matured a bit. There was an underlying fear however, but she chose to bury it for now. She feared for her future, but there was comfort in Dorren Stark being part of it.

It was relatively smooth sailing after that, for a time at least. Lyanna continued to send her secret letters to her lover, and in return cultivated her own aspirations and tasks. A future, tied down for the rest of her life, slowly edged as a resentment in the corner of her mind. She sought to busy herself more and more, to try and forget about it. Often she wished she could indulge with her father on the situation-- for another voice, at least. Cley was little help.

Then, some years later, Edmund Manderly passed away. A heart attack stripped him, already weak, of what life he had left. His children clutched his hands as he passed, a sentimental goodbye, but the final crack in Lyanna let the dam flow. It turned out that the marriage to Dorren had been cemented, and she had been excited… She kept a brave, and a happy face. She was elated that she and Dorren could be together, after all these years. It would be a dream to leave White Harbor, for a final time, and Westeros on the trip down to Harrenhal.

Cley, newly appointed Lord, slipped through Lyanna’s fingers. Her younger brother, absent-minded and strange, did not supply the same relationship dynamic that she and Cley had had. Alaric dyed his hair green and was obsessed with picking barnacles from the docks.

For two years longer she stayed in New Castle, and skirting around White Harbor keeping tally of things. For two years she delayed the marriage, coming up with excuses at a whim and busying herself to baby the deluded younger brother. How much longer she could keep up with this, not even Lyanna knew.

But she is determined to delay the wedding until she has decided.


» biscuit;
Pfefferkuchen: simplistic at a wider scale, but with intricacies much finer and more complicated than your standard cookie.

» other;
Lyanna, although matured from her years, still has a romantic heart at her core. She's weak to stories of love, adventure and otherworldly allure.

[/div]

codedbycrucialstar​

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"I'm good at keeping secrets, but better at finding them."

[/div]

» AN UNASSUMING ALLY;
Name: Wylla
Nickname(s): Will, Willo, Hey You, Girl
Age: Sixteen
Gender: Female

Eye Color: dark brown
Hair Color: black-brown
Marital Status: Single

» appearance;
Wylla is short, especially for her age. She keeps her curly black hair either as tight as it can be in a plait or ponytail at the back of her head, or strewn about her head like a halo of darkness. Her tanned skin is peppered with freckles, heavy on the cheeks on nose. She has thick black eyebrows that emote strongly, much to the girl's chagrin. Her dark eyes, however, portray nothing. She is, as well, not very shapely for a young woman. Just close to starving most days, she appears gaunt in the faintest of lighting. She wears grey clothing, mostly from her mother, and uses it to hide her breasts and what little curves she has. Wylla keeps her head down in public, but will tilt her chin up to meet the eyes of someone in private.

» family;
✦ Alys [unknown]; mother - deceased
✦ [unknown]; father - [unknown]

» skills;
✦ very dexterous and nimble
✦ self-taught eavesdropper and excuse-maker
✦ knows a lot of the people in Flea Bottom
✦ remarkably adept at stealth and staying in the shadows

» biography;
Wylla never knew her father, but her mother was a proud and aloof woman named Alys. Her mother, as well, made a living off of a few different occupations, dragging the child around until she could pick up a broom herself. When Wylla was a few years old, everyday she would ride out of town with her mother, on the back of a cart, to the old farm they would tend to. It was half a day’s ride out of King’s Landing, and the job was two times a week. Wylla enjoyed these trips, mostly because she could see the city, and the streets, and the stretches of land outside the city walls. One day, she vowed she’d make enough to get her and her mother out.

They spent their days in Flea Bottom, struggling at the bottom of the food chain. Wylla made a point of memorizing the windy roads, and all the establishments. She’d stick around outside, peeking in windows, hiding behind doorways. It started off as a game for the girl, mostly to see what sorts of trouble she could get into without outwardly getting killed or locked up. Eventually she found that people sort of stopped noticing, especially the ones that she saw often. Either they assumed she was there or gave up looking for her. Wylla found this talent to come in handy when it came to pickpocketing and looting.

When she was ten, her mother died. Killed in a petty argument, with a block of stone bashed into the back of her head. Wylla was lucky to get anything from her mother’s corpse before it was taken away-- she didn’t know by who. All alone, Wylla persisted her vow. She worked day and night, eventually making her way to be a servant in the Red Keep.

For the most part, that’s what she’s been doing for the last six years. There have been, however, a few side jobs… but she wouldn’t tell you anything about it if you asked. In fact, you probably wouldn’t even know about her if you didn’t look for her. In fact, that’s what she proved best at-- especially with the Master of Whispers at the tail end of her inconspicuous ventures.


» biscuit;
Snickerdoodle - often left ignored by the majority, but extremely reliable for parties and get-togethers.

» other;
Wylla still dreams of leaving King's Landing, and will do what it takes to get herself out

[/div]

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[JPTheWarrior]

• The Priest
• The Banker
• The Mob Boss

• 
  
  FULL NAME: Luceon Celtigar
  APPEARANCE: Of pale blonde wavy hair Luceon is the one who most resembles the stereotypical valyrian features. Standing at 5'10'' with a muscly torso and arms, his looks couldn't be further from the other priests that serve the Seven under the dome of the Sept of Baelor. Luceon is a dazzling young man, with a cocky but playful smile that steals the hearts of the many women of the King's court.
  TITLES: The Blessed One, Lord Celtigar, Voice of the Seven
  AGE: Luceon is 27, being born in 273 AC
  SEX: Male
  FAMILY:
  - Naerys Celtigar (Mother)
  - Daerys Celtigar (Older Brother)
  BIOGRAPHY:
  Son of the greedy Lady of Cracklaw Point, Luceon's destiny had been drawn the moment he was born. Just like his father and brother, Luceon would have to take on a role that could support his family's ambitions. So he turned to the Seven-Pointed Star, where he didn't stop until he could quote every line from the holy book. Of course to him it was all gibberish, merely a tool to influence and manipulate the less bright, a path that would raise House Celtigar's already immense wealth. But what helped his rapid ascension in the hierarchy of the holy church was not only his incredible memory, but also his ease at reading and influencing others through charismatic words. In just a couple of years, Luceon became one of the High Septon most trusted priests and after the latter's death, the King named Luceon Celtigar the new head of the Faith of the Seven, partially because the previous High Septon gave a letter to the King advising him to give Luceon such a title, despite his youthfulness. Having been the High Septon for 8 years, Luceon has built a good reputation among the common folk, clouting them with ideas of forgiveness equals payment from the sinner, payment that serves as a foundation to the prosperity of the Faith. Or at least that is what they are told, for the money's true ending is to fill House Celtigar's vaults. At court, his charisma always overwhelms the room, people often striving for his attention and interactions, specially the women, with whom he often speaks with small and some may even say innocent traces of flirtation.
  OTHER:
  - Luceon has a strong charisma that has made a positive impact on the other Houses and the common folk.
  - He's experienced at lying and deceiving people, whom he can often read like reading lines of a children's book.
  - Hidden under his priest's clothes, Luceon wears a set of chained armor, with a plate chest piece that protects him from any commoner that might try and take his life.
  BISCUIT: Ostia
  
  
• 
  
  FULL NAME: Naerys Celtigar
  APPEARANCE: Already far from her prime, Naerys' face is marked by years of stress and sleepless nights. Despite her age and wrinkles, she still shows a fierce and strong look, despite her back now being constantly curved and having to walk with the aid of the a cane. Her light purple eyes still mirror her pride and dignity and her hair still remains white, as clean as it was when she was young.
  TITLES: Lady Celtigar, Lady of Crackclaw Point, Mistress of Coin, Naerys the Avaricious
  AGE: 63, being born in 237 AC
  FAMILY:
  - Daerys Celtigar (Older Son)
  - Luceon Celtigar (Younger Son)
  BIOGRAPHY: W.I.P.
  OTHER:
  - A mathematical genius, there is no man or woman who can match her prowess when it comes to algebraic and numerical problems.
  - She has been serving has Mistress of Coin for over 30 years.
  
  
  
• 
  
  FULL NAME: Daerys Celtigar
  APPEARANCE: Born of black hair and the characteristic violet eyes that came with the valyrian blood, Daerys' appearence resembles more of a fiend told in horror stories than the elegant and divine image of the Targaryens. Standing at 5'11'', he embraced his brutish by exercising daily, building his muscles up. Has a small scar on his lower lip, courtesy of himself getting his face too close to a crab.
  TITLES: Lord Celtigar, Heir to Cracklaw Point, 'Avarice'
  AGE: 29, being born in 271 AC
  FAMILY:
  - Naerys Celtigar (Mother)
  - Luceon Celtigar (Younger Brother)
  BIOGRAPHY:
  Firstborn of the Mistress of Coin, Daerys acquired his mother's craving for wealth, making sure his purpose would be to raise his family's status and wealth. While he didn't have the raw talent of persuasion and deception his brother had, nor had the mathematical prowess to follow his mother's footsteps, he did have a certain ease at assuring authority with his posture. It was no surprise that he ended up being the one who made sure people payed what they were required to. In order to cut all connections between the acts of violence against those who didn't meet the deadline and House Celtigar, he made a small journey to Essos, acquiring the services of the Company of the Cat. Secretly, a small group at a time, the Company made its way to King's Landing, becoming citizens of Westeros and working in all varieties of small time jobs during the day and as mercenaries at night. In order to not expose House Celtigar, when they have to mention the man who hired them they always speak of him as "Avarice". Besides the employer of the mercenary group, Daerys also acts as the envoy between the Banks of Essos and Westeros, acting on his mother's behalf and forging certain deals.
  OTHER:
  - Daerys is quite good at forging signatures and write with other people's handwriting.
  - He can both write with his left and right hands.
  - A man of culture, he's quite fond of poetry, music and plays, his court filled with artists that can provide him those.
  - Daerys has trained in the arts of fighting, but only shows any real talent with the crossbow and hand to hand combat. That's why he also likes to fight with iron knuckles placed in his fists.
  
  
  
  

 

[Yahhah]

Appearance


Name
Jon Baratheon

Sex
Male

Age
Twenty-three

Marital Status
Betrothed to Amabel Blackwood

Family
see Baratheon family tree

Biography
Jon was born the second son of Boros Baratheon he was raised at Storm's End. Jon had always been a rowdy child, he loved the stories of great warriors of old and swore he was going to be greater then all of them. Jon was trained by the master at arms and though he never became more then an average sword fighter, he excelled with blunt weapons such as maces and warhammers. He never seemed to envy his brother's place as heir to Storm's End and seemed to be on a path to knighthood. Until the word that his uncle Roger Baratheon had been executed for having an affair with the king's wife reached Storm's End. Jon like his family was angered. Jon's anger manifested in a violent way, at that point he was into young adulthood. He would often leave Storm's End with nothing but a horse, armor and a hammer. He would always return with a bloodied hammer and a quenched blood lust. Jon took out his anger on many an outlaw over the course of a year until he took the title of Captain of the guard. Jon has settled down a bit after that, as he seems content to defend his home and what family he has left.

Other
Skilled fighter.
Enjoys drinking and jesting.
Carries an imposing presence with his large height of 6' 6 and muscular build.
Often goes into battle with an antlered helm.

Biscuit
If Jon was a biscuit he'd probably be a biscuit made of rocks with booze poured over it.​

 

[Tiny]

Name II Sex II Age
Giya Mormont II Female II 18

Marital Status
Betrothed to Addam Stark

Family
Lya Stark (young Daughter of Addam Stark and Giya)

WIP​

 

[RayPurchase]

Appearance


Name
Grand Maester Barrian

Sex
Male

Age
55

Marital Status
Single

Family
None

Biography
The bastard son of a minor noble house of the Crownlands, Barrian was shipped off to Oldtown at the age of 16 for an education, better to be a burden on the Citadel instead of his own family. Never much of a fighter, a rider or good with his hands, Barrian luckily found his skills lay in learning and with a pen instead of a blade, taking to the numerous lessons and teachings like a duck to water. He was a fully fledged Maester by the age of 27, impressive given the drawn out nature of the education provided. He ended up serving several houses during his travels around the country, the principle houses being the Yronwoods and Royces. At the age of 45 he returned to the Citadel to continue his studies within the confines of Oldtown. His specialism lay in medicine and learning the functions of the Human body, hence the Silver chain being the principle link of his chain. It was expected that he would take a seat on the Conclave as Archmaester, if fate had not intervened. With Barrian having just turned 50 the Grand Maester passed away. At this point King Lucery’s as of yet futile desires to sire an heir were well known, and it was decided that with his knowledge of the body, if anyone was best suited to aid his attempts to carry on the Targareyn Line, Barrian was it. As such he was elected by the Concave to take on the task of applying his knowledge to try and bring about this goal, and at the same time bring royal prestige to the Order of Maesters should he succeed. After much difficulty and loss it appeared that finally he and aided the King, yet this has quite quickly flipped on its head with the disappearance of the boy, and the murder of the king. The odd rumour rumbles in the lower parts of King’s Landing that Barrian was in fact the cause for the King’s inability to birth a healthy son, and that with this success he was part of the faction that removed the pair. Such words are surely nothing more than idle conversation and heresay however, and the venerable Maester pays little attention to such gossip.

Other
Despite the public perceptions of Maesters as being similar to Septons in eschewing worldly possessions and delights, Barrian is a fond lover of Dornish Red and Arbor Gold, and there are stories that he still ‘entertains’ women smuggled into his quarters in The Red Keep

Standing at little more than 5 foot 5, Barrian is not a physically impsoing man by any stretch, and his now fully white hair is of a man past his physical prime. His mind however is as alive as ever, and his tongue is like a whip, able to lash out at an unsuspecting foe with ease. Known in the small council as being surprisingly combative for a Grand Maester, holding his own position and willing to fight for his point of view to an extent that some believe to be unbecoming for a Maester.

Biscuit
Plain Digestive - Doesnt look particularly exciting but a good strong pillar of the biscuit tin.


♛ ♛ ♛
​

 

[Mion]

Name:
Cregan Stark

Sex:
Male

Age:
32 (Born in 268AC)

Marital Status:
Twice Wed
Married to Lady Eliza Stark nee Tyrell.
Formerly married to Lady Gwyn Stark nee Glover, now deceased.

Titles:
Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North.

Biography:
The first born of four siblings, Cregan Stark was well looked after by his parents and considers both of them to be very positive role models in his life. Some of his earliest memories are that of his father teaching him to properly hold a spear and draw a bow, and his mother helping him along with his reading and writing. Cregan was a quiet but driven youth. He was not what one would call timid or shy but neither was he particularly loud or energetic. He took well to physical activities like hunting and swordplay and for the most part was not one to neglect his duties as the eldest son of the Lord of Winterfell. Not only as the future Lord but also as a close family member. Cregan was conscious of his position as something of a guide and a role model to his younger siblings. There was some gap in age between him and them, but even so he tried his best to make time for them, acting as a goodhearted older brother who would encourage them in whatever it is that they wished to do.

One day when Lord Stark, his brother (Cregan's uncle), and Cregan, were hunting in the Wolfswood outside of Winterfell, they were set upon by a pack of wolves after they felled a particularly large elk. The pack was led by a wolf that was larger than any that the Starks had ever seen. As the wolf bounded towards his uncle the party froze, well, all except Cregan. The young heir of Winterfell cast his spear and it struck true. With their leader dead the rest of the pack scattered. The wolf was taken back to Winterfell along with the elk which they had for dinner that night. The pelt of the wolf would eventually be fashioned into a dark wolfskin cloak that was gifted to Cregan on his 18th nameday. It was at this very same 18th nameday celebration that Cregan met a young woman by the name of Gwyn Glover. By this point the Lord of Winterfell had been looking for a suitable match for his son and heir for some time but that ended after this night. Although the girl was a few years younger than himself, Cregan was smitten at first sight and asked for her to accompany him to the Godswood, where he pronounced his love for her.

The two got on splendidly and loved each-other truly, it was the same year that they would later get married and the whole of the North was invited for the wedding. For nine months the couple were inseparable, only parting for activities that it was deemed risky for the new Lady Stark to partake in. However the Gods had decided that their time together would be a short one. For nine months after their wedding Lady Gwyn died in childbirth, unfortunately so did the child, who they had decided would be named Osric, after his uncle.

The death of a loved one can effect all sorts of people in all sorts of ways. For Cregan his method of coping seemed to be to act as if it never happened. It would appear as far as he was concerned he never had a wife, never had a child. The heir of Winterfell continued to put on a face that everything was alright, albeit one that was slightly more somber than before. He had been a quiet youth, but never a melancholy sort.

There was rumors that Cregan had gone on to be romantically linked to several young ladies of the North, however none were proven to be true. Now adays he spend even more time with activities like hunting swordplay than before. That was until the year of his 22nd nameday. The year that his father had passed away. Cregan knew that his father was not a perfect man, he had his flaws, but then so did everyone did they not? He was a man that Cregan respected and as far as he was concerned had treated his family well enough, and kept him and his people safe. He had taught Cregan a lot and so in his honour he invited the families closest friends so that they could see the old Lord Stark off into the crypts with the Lords that came before him and where Cregan would one day go himself.

As the new Lord many thought it was time for Cregan to marry again, for he still needed an heir to continue on his line. This however seemed not to be, whether the topic was too painful to be discussed properly by Cregan himself or if the Lords of the North were worried they might offend him by bringing such a topic up is unknown. All that matters is that by the time he was 24 he was yet to be remarried, this was the year that his beloved mother passed away. Some say the grief that came from House Whents collapse was what caused her death, others believe that it was the cursed Whent bloodline. Either way the result was the same and Cregan had to truly take charge of his family now that his parents were gone.

Shortly after the death of his mother, Lord Cregan traveled down to Kings Landing, where he made his case to the King of the Iron Throne that by rights Harrenhal belonged to him and his kinsmen. Cregan's arguments seemed to be a sound one to the King and so Harrenhal was granted to House Stark. Now Lord of Winterfell and Lord of Harrenhal, Cregan made his way to the Riverlands, to see his mothers home. He spent some time in the infamous castle and the lands around it, some rumors even say that he spent a fair amount of the visit on the isle of faces. It would appear that whatever sort of experience Cregan had at Harrenhal, it was not a pleasant one. For not long after he returned to Winterfell he granted the lordship to his Uncle Osric. Some say he was fearful of the course, while others say it was merely an act of kindness towards his uncle who he held dearly.

For 7 years Lord Cregan ruled in Winterfell alone. By all mean he was a good Lord to his people in the North, his acts were seen as just, honourable, as they should be. However there was a loneliness to him that would not seem to go away. Even when surrounded by those that would be called friends and family, there was still something missing. Something was incomplete.

But then there was a sudden announcement. One that surprised but was met with great joy in the North. Lord Cregan had chosen to marry again. To a Tyrell girl nonetheless. Daughter of Hand of the King Rickard Tyrell. Eliza Tyrell was her name, and she was more than half Lord Cregan's age. Some might call into question the motives and intent behind the marriage. But it would seem that Lord Cregans feelings were true to his new wife. And it was unthinkable to the North that their Lord would mistreat the new Lady of Winterfell. With Lady Eliza it seemed that Lord Cregan had truly moved beyond his past.

Not long after their marriage it was announced that the King of the Iron Throne was dead and that his son had disappeared. There was accusations claiming that the King had been assassinated and that there would be a jury from the most powerful men in Westeros to look over the case. Lord Cregan was one of those men.

Now Lord Cregan and his wife Eliza ride south to Kings Landing to take their part in this trial to whatever ends it may meet.

Other:
- Stands at 5'10
- Exceptionally skilled with sword and spear
- Formidable hunter
- Well read, enjoys folk tales and fantastical stories in particular.
- Enjoys riding his horse.

Biscuit:
Jammie Dodger - don't ask why.

 

[Hypnos]

• Rickard Tyrell
• Myrielle Lannister
• Tygett Lannister

• 
  
  *But with brown hair
  
  Name:
  Rickard Tyrell
  
  Sex:
  Male
  
  Age:
  45
  
  Title(s):
  Hand of the King, Heir Presumptive to Highgarden
  
  Marital Status: Married to Victaria Hightower
  
  Family:
  
  
  Biography:
  Though born to the blood of the dragon, few could be further from the visage of a King than Rickard Tyrell, a boy whose mere birth proved to be a fracturing force within the most paramount family of the Reach, and whose upbringing was marred by similar unpleasantries. His mother had been a Targaryen Princess: Dyanna, the second wife of Lord Malentine Tyrell, and although the exact nature of his parent’s partnership was not known to Dick when he was a lad, he could still feel the effects of their cursed union from a very young age.
  
  Despite growing up in near proximity to his two elder brothers: Beldon and Luthor, there was little of the love that one might expect from close kin, a lingering resentment for the fate of their own mother, a fate of which Dick was hardly aware, let alone complicit in. For his part, Lord Malentine himself seemed equally withholding in regards to affection, and with a mother who seemed more focused on her status as the second wife of an aging lord, whose children would not bear the titles of their father, than raising him, Dick found himself remarkably lonely as a child, the only exception to his solitude being his sister Aerea, a year or so his senior, yet the only person in Highgarden equipped to understand the particular circumstances in which Dick found himself.
  
  It was the pair of them versus the world, and although Aerea herself could occasionally find solace in other friends, such as the ladies her own age, Dick never quite grew accustomed to the company of his peers, a fact that made the little lord far more accustomed to the inside of a sewing circle than a castle yard, and left his swordsmanship rather lacking, though Dick himself has never mourned the life of a warrior.
  
  As the pair of them grew older, Dick became more studious, and although he was never the smartest lad, he made up for his shortcomings in hard work and determination, willing to work long nights to ensure that he achieved results. The castle Maester became a second father to him, or rather filled the significant hole left by the first, and provided a well needed additional companion when his sister found herself too busy to be by his side. Aerea had grown popular in a way that Dick never could, and although his sister had many times attempted to introduce him to her own friends, Dick had always lacked the communication skills required to make solid connections with people, and was often described as grating or unpleasant, something that only further served to drive Dick deeper into his studies.
  
  As a young man, he might have hoped to become a Maester himself, and join the Citadel, though that choice was swiftly removed from consideration when Dick’s elder brother Luthor opted to join the faith, and with Beldon’s growing alcoholism, Malentine Tyrell was more conscious than ever of his need for a spare, should his eldest prove to predecease him. It was perhaps this worry about the future of House Tyrell that made Malentine so eager to pick him a bride, Lady Sharis Ambrose, the daughter of one of Malentine’s boyhood friends, and a woman of proven fertility having already sired a son by a previous husband. The marriage was not particularly one of love, though neither party particularly despised the other in any real way, it was an arrangement of convenience, and the pair seldom even shared a bed, after their eldest daughter was born.
  
  It was around this time that Dick began to care for another, Victaria Hightower a friend of his sister’s who seemed to find his personality more charming than offputting, and appealed to Dick in all the right ways. Of course, Dick was married at this point, and Victaria betrothed to another, his dearest elder brother Beldon, though by this time there were few that were unaware of Belond’s more hedonistic nature. Perhaps a lesser man might have capitalised on the situation, a woman so clearly trapped in an unhappy engagement who shared at least a little affection for him. There were times when even Dick thought his resolve would crumble, and the pair would often take strolls in the gardens of the Reach that lasted long into the night, though every time they would end with Dick delivering her back to the chambers of his brothers so that the drunken slob could have his way with her. Some might call it honour, though Dick himself would never use such a flimsy excuse. In truth, the cause was the same one that had made him agree to his own marriage and forgo a life of scholarly academics: he was a follower first and foremost, and no amount of dragon’s blood could change that fact, be it his Lord father, or the laws of the land and the church, Dick Tyrell knew to always fall in line.
  
  It was not long after his own marriage when his sister would find herself also betrothed, though Malentine Tyrell had more lofty ambitions for his only daughter than he ever had for his sons. She was to marry the King: Lucerys I, and Malentine was convinced that one day it would be his grandson that sat upon the Iron Throne. The wedding celebrations were large, and Dick followed his sister to the capital, remaining in a capacity as an attendant and sworn sword to the new Queen, though Aerea had more use for his company than his blade in this city of strangers. Dick was able to keep himself occupied during this time carrying out odd jobs for the court, and it was through his sister’s influence that he was able to receive first a commission in the judiciary as a judge, and later, through much hard work and determination, the position of Master of Laws, following the dismissal of Ser Edmund Rosby, under accusations of embezzlement, though most agree that his dismissal had more to do with the King personally growing to dislike him.
  A life at court proved to be a stable one, never an uneventful day, and though Dick grew adept at keeping up appearances and maintaining his work, his sister remaining his most trusted companion. Of course, with time, many things change, and though Aerea Tyrell had given her husband three children, they had all been girls, only one living long past infancy. Rumours around court began to grow that Aerea was incapable, and unable to provide the son that King Lucerys desperately needed, even as grew pregnant for the fourth time. Much like in childhood, it was once again Rickard and Area against everyone else, and Dick stood by his sister until the end. Until she birthed her child.
  
  It was a boy, that much nobody disputed, though whether it was human was drawn into question. It was a monster, with scales instead of skin, and a tale akin to that of a reptile. The boy didn’t suffer for much longer than a half-hour, though Aerea Tyrell wouldn’t prove so lucky.
  
  As a member of the King’s council, Dick was privy to much information regarding the future of Lucerys’ marriage with Queen Aerea, information that filled him with dread. It was clear that she had to go, that was what everyone was saying, the King half convinced that she had an affair with some other man, because he would not accept that monster as his own child, and no amount of protestation from Dick could change the verdict that was made.
  
  Aerea Tyrell was still weak from the pregnancy when her neck was on the block.
  
  A more dignified man might have resigned over such an insult. A braver man still might have sought revenge for his kin against the man who had killed his sister. Dick Tyrell did neither. Much like he had bent over for his father years before when given the command, Dick Tyrell followed his King.
  
  Life went on much the same as it always had after that, and the King was eager to tell his advisor that he did not blame him for his sister’s failings. Dick remained in the court, for he didn’t have anywhere else left to go, with Beldon Tyrell seemingly uncaring of his half-sister’s death. The only relief came from a simple fact. Beldon was aging, and had fathered not a single legitimate son upon his wife: with Luthor still in the faith, it stood to reason that Dick would be heir presumptive of the Reach. It was perhaps in anticipation of Dick receiving this title that he was named Hand of the King, following the dismissal of Lord Glendon Stokeworth, so that his grace would have a powerful ally in the Reach, though like always, things did not go to plan.
  
  With Beldon Tyrell’s death came both good, and bad. Dick’s claims to the castle of Highgarden were contested by his elder brother, who renounced his vows to the faith to usurp his younger brother’s title, as one great final insult. It was however, also the death of Lord Beldon that gave Dick something else that he had wanted: Victaria Hightower.
  
  Sharis Ambrose had proved to have an aversion to the capital, and had opted instead to live with her father, rather than her husband. She had passed away not long after the birth of her second child, following complications caused by a fractured rib recieved from a fall from her horse riding the hills of the Reach. Dick Tyrell had not seen fit to remarry following that incident, even if he had yet to father a son of his own, that was, until his brother’s widow found herself outside of his door, many miles from her own home in the Reach. Their own marriage was a small, private ceremony in a tiny Sept a few leagues away from King’s Landing, a simple joy.
  
  Then King Lucerys died.
  
  Biscuit:
  Hardtack: salty and not very tasty, but also inexpensive and functional for long travels.
  
  
• 
  
  *But a little older
  
  Name:
  Myrielle Lannister
  
  Sex:
  Female
  
  Age:
  40
  
  Title(s):
  Lady Consort of the Vale
  
  Marital Status:
  Married to Eustace Arryn
  
  Family:
  
  
  Biography:
  They say that a good sailor has a bride in every port, and seldom has that been more true for any man than Lord Cerion Lannister. In his youth, the Lord of Casterly Rock had been a seafarer and adventurer, modelling himself after the great heroes of old such as the Seasnake: Corlys Velaryon or the Progenitor of the Arbor: Gylbert of the Vines, and attempting his own great voyages to win not only the wealth that these men had been famed for, but also their renown. The legend that had most sparked his interest had been that of King Tommen II Lannister, whose great fleet had sailed all the way to the depths of Old Valyria, never to return, taking with him the ancient sword Brightroar, an heirloom that Lord Cerion had always dreamed of reclaiming.
  
  Corlys Velaryon had made nine great voyages, and ever the egotist, Lord Cerion had ambitions for ten, the last of which would have seen him achieve what no Lannister, nor any man, had achieved before and return unscathed from the graveyard of dragons with the untold treasures of old.
  
  He only completed seven.
  
  It was during his eighth voyage that Cerion Lannister found himself trapped upon the island of Lys, a storm preventing any forward progress at least until the weather cleared, though the raging typhoon seemed as if it were to be without end. Lord Cerion found himself hosted by the local Magister, Mereo Haen, for there were few who would reject the company of a Lannister of Casterly Rock, and during this time Cerion took a liking to the Magister’s daughter: Serenei. It was an old sailor’s trick to bed a woman with false promises, or to even take her hand in secret to convince her to visit your chambers at night. Ss long she kept her mouth shut, you would be out of port before she realised that she was only one of many ‘wives’ across the open seas, and by that time you could be half-way to Asshai.
  
  Of course, Cerion Lannister only made it as far as Qarth before repercussions were felt. It turns out, his dalliance with Lady Serenei had left her pregnant, and her father was none too pleased to find out that Lord Cerion was the father. The Magister was willing to look the other way from this diplomatic insult as long as Cerion took the child for his own and acknowledged his secret marriage. The Lord of Casterly Rock had little choice but to accept.
  
  Sending ravens between Qarth and Lys is a long and arduous process, and boats were slower still, and by the time that Cerion Lannister returned to collect his new bride, the child had already been born, a beautiful baby girl with golden hair and emerald eyes.
  
  Her mother had called her Myrielle.
  
  The little Lady Lannister served as an anchor that kept her father firmly in port, and prevented him for voyaging off again, with a new wife to care for and a child to raise, though if Cerion ever resented his daughter for that fact, he never let it show.
  
  Myrielle was showered in praise and affection from a very young age, denied almost nothing and spoilt rotten as a child, though she never had much cause to complain. She was a Lannister and grew up knowing exactly what that meant, and the great virtues of her family and its well known reputation.
  
  In exchange for such lavishes, Myrielle herself proved to be an exceptional young lady, doing all that was expected of her as the daughter of a great lord and carrying herself with grace and dignity, learning to sew, weave and dance, and taking great pride in her singing voice, much to Lord Cerion’s joy.
  
  It was only a few years after Myrielle was taken to Casterly Rock that her first brother was born, Tygett Lannister, and though at first the two butted heads due in part to jealousy over Tygett’s position as Lord Lannister’s heir, and therefore heir to the Westerlands, they soon overcame such differences and learned to play together in peace, though Myrielle would never yield her place of authority as the eldest child.
  
  One brother soon became two when Damon was born, and later three with Lancel, though by this time Myrielle was quickly growing out of childhood and into a young woman in her own right, and Lord Cerion soon had to begin thinking of suitable husbands for his little girl, though he was not bereft of options. Myrielle Lannister had blossomed into a beautiful woman, with her mother’s Lyseni features (her maternal grandmother had been a high class courtesan that had caught the attention of the Magister) and her father’s golden hair, and Cerion Lannister wanted nothing but the best for his only daughter.
  In those days, Ser Eustace Arryn had been young and handsome, with a full head of hair and a smile that could make a maiden melt, at least, that was how Myrielle had seen him. In her youth, she had been a romantic, and though her brothers often teased her about such a fact, she had always dreamed of a gallant knight coming and wiping her off her feet, to her, that knight was Ser Eustace.
  
  Lord Cerion had been weary of the match, due in part to the soiled bloodline of House Arryn when Eustace’s predecessor had married a savage, and had offered plentiful alternatives: Edmyn Tully, the young Lord of Riverrun, Ser Runceford Hightower of Oldtown or one of Malentine Tyrell’s boys, but Myrielle resisted each and every one, until her father finally relented and allowed the match that she had wanted.
  
  The problems with such expectations for marriage, however, were that they were most certainly not going to be met. For a period, Myrielle found herself happy with the union, whilst they honeymooned in the Westerlands, but soon it was time for them to turn to her new home in the Vale, and she found it somewhat underwhelming.
  
  For a woman that was used to being gifted anything, it was a great shift to be living in the mountaintops of the Vale. The Eyrie was very beautiful, that much was true, however it was also very cold, and supplies could take many weeks to arrive after getting past the savages in the hills, and up the Mountains of the Moon. Eustace too proved to be less valiant than she had initially hoped, and though at first Myrielle attempted to to keep up the appearance of contentedness, as the weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, she began to care less and less about pretending.
  
  It was during this period too, that Myrielle suffered great tragedy when her brother Damon was killed when his carriage was ambushed on his way back from visiting her in this dreary hellhole, the aftermath of which was a heated fight between herself and her husband which involved several insinuations about Eustace’s family history, and resulted in the pair not speaking for almost a moon, though they eventually reconciled as best they could, if nothing else for the sake of their daughter, Ashara, and the child that they were soon expecting.
  
  Life progressed in a similar fashion, fighting and making up, in a marriage held together by a single thread, though few arguments could compare to that which resulted from Eustace’s proposal to marry off their only daughter to the King. By this point, Lucerys Targaryen had already dispatched two of his wives, and it seemed that Eustace wanted to make their own daughter the third, for what? To repair the broken legacy of his family? That was something for which Myrielle never forgave, even if she might have pretended to have forgotten.
  
  Then King Lucerys died.
  
  Biscuit:
  Fox’s Chocolatery Milk Chocolate Round: the best biscuit in an otherwise just kind of okay selection.
  
  
• 
  
  
  *But with blonde hair
  
  Name:
  Tygett Lannister
  
  Sex:
  Male
  
  Age:
  38
  
  Title(s):
  Heir to Casterly Rock
  
  Marital Status:
  Married to Selyse Fossoway
  
  Family:
  
  
  Biography:
  Broad of shoulder and strong of arm, Tygett Lannister was not built for a life of scholarly pursuits, and though his father might have initially attempted to push him into a life of counting coppers and organising lands, it soon became apparent that Tygett’s passions remained elsewhere. It wasn’t that he didn’t try to keep his father placated, by participating in the planned lessons about rulership and governance, by Tygett had great trouble latching on to such concepts, and understanding the finer details of what was being taught, having trouble especially with numbers, and even simple mathematical functions. Not that Tygett allowed himself to be perturbed by such simple set backs, and he was eager to learn if it meant keeping his father happy, though it was painfully apparent that he would never excel in such a field.
  
  The training yard was a different matter. It wasn’t that Tygett was particularly more skilled than the other boys, that he was simply larger, and bulkier, and had the strength to easily knock people down into the mud with great ease, though with training came a degree of more finess to this technique. Whereas with the Maester, Tygett merely went along with what he was told to do, he took a great deal more initiative in the yard, and learned to fight quite handedly, something that Lord Cerion soon began to encourage.
  
  Tygett would squire under his uncle, the Lyseni Ser Silvario Haen, who had come to Westeros with his sister (Tygett’s mother), and had been knighted following a conversion to the faith of the seven, and would travel for a time back to his mother’s home in Lys to experience the world outside of the confines of the Westerlands, though Tygett found his time overseas to be more boring than he had anticipated, as the son of a powerful Westerosi Lord was always kept far away from any kind of real danger.
  
  Upon his return, the Lannister came back to Westeros a Knight, eager to show off all that he had learned, taking for a squire his youngest brother and going off to fight in tourneys across the country to win at least a taste of glory.
  
  The Lannister heir became somewhat prolific throughout Westeros for his skill, though also for his somewhat reckless approach, and he often put himself in a lot of harm to achieve victory, something for which his father would often scold him. It was this constant damage that he was putting upon himself that caused Tygett great injury at the Tourney of Cider Hall (to celebrate the birth of Lord Fossoway’s new heir), and it was this great injury that caused him to be bedridden for several days, during which he was tended to by Lord Fossoway’s sister, Selyse, the woman who would eventually go on to be his bride.
  
  Much like his father before him, marrying and having children of his own served as a mellowing force for Tygett, and with people now relying on him, he knew that he would no longer be able to participate so openly in tournaments, though of course he never lost the taste for the thrill, even after he had retired himself from the joust.
  
  Of course, being absent from Casterly Rock for so long, off on his own world of adventure meant that Tygett had been fairly blind to the going’s on of his home, and the Rock to which he returned was very different from the one which he had left. His sister Myrielle had long been married off, to Lord Eustace Arryn in the Vale, and he had no so much as spoken to her in many years, despite their closeness as youths. His brother Damon had also taken a wife, and had proved to share much of the abilities which Tygett lacked in terms of rulership and governance, a fact for which Tygett was relieved, as he was not eager to shoulder that burden alone when his father passed.
  
  The biggest difference came from his mother, Lady Serenei, who had been ill when he had left for Lys, though her symptoms had only seemed to grow worse over time, her mind seemingly decaying in a way that charred her memories nad left her often babbling to herself alone. Lady Lannister was often left to her own devices.
  
  As time went on, Cerion Lannister grew older, and began to give more responsibility to his eldest sons, and it was thought that he might be gearing off to leave his lordship behind him and following the adventures of his youth, though the death of Damon was certainly enough to dash that possibility.
  
  Damon Lannister’s demise came as a shock to everyone, especially Tygett, who had grown to rely on his brother’s sound judgement, though now it became apparent that he was going to have to go at it alone,
  
  Then King Lucerys died.
  
  Biscuit:
  Triple Chocolate Cookie: these used to be hot shit, but now you look at them and all you can see is diabetes.
  
  

 

[Yahhah]

Appearance


Name
Garth Florent

Sex
Male

Age
30

Marital Status
Single(Kingsguard)

Family
\(0.0)/

Biography
Garth was born on Brightwater Keep. Though he was never a well muscled boy he was always quick and wiry. He squired at the age of fifteen and quickly proved his valor. He was knighted at the age of twenty earning the title the Foxknight. He became a part of the Kingsguard at the age of 28. He was patrolling the halls the night the king was murdered and was furious at his failure in duty. He is adamant that whoever murdered the king be brought to justice.(Not much, but I hope it works).

Other
Takes his duty as a Kingsguard very seriously.
Though a knight doesn't give a shit about honor.
Is normally quiet and thoughtful.
Small for a knight, standing at around 5' 5, but with a lean strong build.

Biscuit
Blueberry biscuit.​

(Probably gonna be my last character sheet. Can't think of enough character for Tarly).

 

[TheFool]

• Ashara Arryn
• Eustace Arryn
• Garon Darklyn
• Jaehaerys Targaryen
• Mariya Tully

• 
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
  
  Lucerys’ Third
  
  
  
  
  
  Appearance
  Her mother’s daughter, entirely. Ash is The Vale’s flower. A mountain rose. She is 5’7, with a thin frame. As a child she was quite overweight and though she shed that weight in her adolescence - she is still self conscious of it. Her hair is fair, like Myrielle’s. Her eyes are a mix of blue. Her worst feature would likely be ( in her opinion ) her nose, which she has never ever liked the shape of. Her best feature are her cheekbones. Most definitely.
  
  Name
  Ashara Arryn
  
  Nicknames / Titles
  Queen Of The Seven Kingdoms
  “Ash”
  
  Sex
  Female
  
  Age
  17
  ( 282AC )
  
  Marital Status
  Recently widowed.
  
  Family
  
  
  
  
  Biography
  
  Ashara Arryn, and to an extent, her brother Hugh, is the only thing in the way of her father and her mother never again speaking to one another. She knows that, though she’d never say that she does. She’s a clever enough girl, if not a bit naive and a bit too trusting. For she’d not had a reason for any sort of distrust in The Eyrie. Marrying a King and spending the last ten months in King’s Landing changed that. Definitely.
  
  Her childhood was one without worry.
  A pleasant one, spent mostly in her home but she would often accompany her father on his trips to Riverrun. Though there was roughly a year in difference of age, she became fast friends with Mariya Tully when they were girls. Mariya would always look up to her and Ashara liked that. She liked being seen as a role model of sorts.
  
  Marriage has not been easy.
  Not at all.
  Though she has survived it up until now. Managing to appease Lucerys enough so that he’d usually leave her alone. A part of Ashara isn’t sure how she feels about becoming a mother. A small part of her is glad it happened so quickly, for who knows what would’ve been done to her if she hadn’t become with child. Another part is… apprehensive. Scared, even.
  
  For if the child isn’t anything up to her husband’s standards,
  Ashara knows that it will be done away with.
  Alongside she.
  
  
  
  Other
  She has a trio of handmaidens who follow her every move : her closest friend, Jeyne Egan, her cousin, Lyarra Corbray, and a girl from The Westerlands, Elissa Algood. Alongside the girls, she was accompanied to King’s Landing by her sword and shield, Ser Renfred Broome. She trusts them all dearly.
  
  Ashara loves to sew, and finds herself to be quite adept at it.
  
  She has an immense crush on one of her husband’s Kingsguard, Ser Garth Florent. Though ‘tis but a crush and something Ashara would never act out on.
  
  Ashara often has nightmares about the savage mountain men of The Vale. A reoccuring one being them attacking and torturing her while she sleeps.
  
  Biscuit
  Although not particularly a “biscuit” - Ashara would be along the lines of a French fancy. Pretty and light and full of goodness, even if you have to bite into it to get that goodness.
  
  
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
• 
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
  
  Warden Of The East
  
  
  
  
  
  Appearance
  Even in his youth, Eustace’s always been… plain. In fact, his aging may’ve even exacerbated said plainness. Though women always agreed that he had an odd charm about him. He stands, still plainly, at 5’10. His hair - what’s left of it - is a light grey, accompanied by a scraggly beard. His eyes are a darkened hazel with hints of blue. His worst features ( described as such by himself ) are his ears, which have always been quite big. While, alternatively, his best feature is - and always has been - his smile.
  
  Name
  Eustace Arryn
  
  Nicknames / Titles
  Lord Paramount Of The Vale
  Warden Of The East
  Lord Of The Eyrie
  Ser
  “Stacey”
  
  Sex
  Male
  
  Age
  42
  ( 258AC )
  
  Marital Status
  Unhappily married to Myrielle Lannister.
  
  Family
  
  
  
  
  Biography
  
  As a boy,
  Eustace was a mischievous fella’. He was always up to no good, alongside his younger brother Ethan. Their sisters, especially, got the worst of it. One time, Eustace tricked little Alysanne that the mountain men had come to take her to their hovel. She cried for a week. The pain from his mother’s smack lasted just as long. Eustace was an active boy. Playing games and rolling around in the dirt. A boy’s boy. He always found it strange, however, that the children ( that weren’t his siblings ) would never join in. They’d always stare… and whisper. It wasn’t until he was older that he knew why.
  
  All the fun and all the games stopped during his adolescence however.
  When his father grew ill. The old man still had some years left in him, sure, but it was time for Eustace to settle himself. To truly put his mind towards what was meant of him. To rule The Vale.
  His uncle introduced him to sword and bow training.
  His mother introduced him to the knowledge found in books.
  Eustace grew up.
  
  He was soon betrothed to Myrielle Lannister. A woman who he thought more beautiful than any other. Until they returned from their honeymooning and she began opening her mouth. His father passed shortly after the wedding. Myrielle fell pregnant shortly after that. Eustace wanted to make sure that his children - his line - would do great things. For as he grew older, he learned more and more of his family’s past and how much it troubled his late father.
  So much so that it began troubling Eustace.
  
  Presently,
  Eustace’s troubles have become… dormant. His daughter is Queen and his son is healthy and strong. A man with a name that was once blackened could not ask for more.
  
  All is well.
  
  
  
  Other
  Eustace fancies himself a good bowman, though he has grown rusty in the last decade or so. He will, the odd time, still go out and try to hunt with the other lords of The Vale.
  
  There are oft days where he nor Myrielle will exchange more than thirty words to one another. Something he wishes to improve upon now that they are expecting a grandchild.
  
  Eustace is a worrywort, through and through. If there’s something that someone could possibly worry about… he’s worrying about it. A saying amongst smallfolk in The Vale is that “Eustace tries his best. Even when his best isn’t better than theirs.”
  
  He is sometimes called “Stacey” by his siblings.
  Something which annoys him.
  Greatly.
  
  Biscuit
  Eustace is nothing more than a rich tea, no matter what you may try to spread on it. Plain and soggy when wet.
  
  
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
• 
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
  
  The City’s Shield
  
  
  
  
  
  Appearance
  A strong man with an even stronger presence. Something he definitely does not get from his father. Garon is 5’11, even though he seems to tower those in any room. His hair is a plain brown, usually tied up. He wears a beard which he keeps kempt enough. His eyes are a murky ocean blue. His worst feature ( if he had to choose something ) would be the bit of a beer belly he has. His best feature is, without a doubt, his voice. One that deeply drips with seriousness.
  
  Name
  Garon Darklyn
  
  Nicknames / Titles
  Heir To Duskendale?
  Captain Of The Gold Cloaks
  Commander
  Ser
  “Gaza”
  
  Sex
  Male
  
  Age
  26
  ( 274AC )
  
  Marital Status
  Married to the job.
  
  Family
  
  
  
  
  Biography
  
  Garon was a carefree child.
  He’d often spend his days running around Duskendale, pretending to be a town guard - wooden sword in his hand. He had a big heart. Always giving the coins his grandmother would give him to those less fortunate. Those born without a silver spoon. His grandmother, Lady Meredyth, shared this view.
  And anything Lady Meredyth thought or said or did, Garon would follow suit and do the same.
  She was a big part of his life.
  
  Until she wasn’t anymore.
  
  A sickness swept through Duskendale when he was ten. Taking the lives of his dear mother and even dearer grandmother.
  That was when Garon’s life sloped downwards. His carefreeness transformed into an angerness. He would pick fights with other little lordlings. Vicious, vicious fights. It was also during this time that his father remarried. He was wed to Maegelle Targaryen, the sister of Lucerys. She was a right bitch to Garon. Talking down to him any chance she got. It did not help that the marriage was so soon after his mother’s passing and it did not help that there were so many rumours about how his father had been having an affair with the Princess while Garon’s mother was still alive.
  
  Maegelle hated him.
  And her hatred for Garon spread, finding itself in his father too soon enough.
  
  At age fourteen, he blinded Malentine Velaryon.
  He didn’t truly mean to.
  But he did.
  That was it. That was enough.
  
  Garon’s father banished him from Duskendale, threatening that if he ever returned - he would face the consequence.
  
  Garon found himself in King’s Landing soon enough.
  He was, luckily, given a home by Maegelle’s younger brother, Maekar. The home was a whorehouse. A fine establishment but a whorehouse all the same. Garon loved it there though. The women were always fair to him. They treated him like a son of their own. The men who came to visit would teach him things too. Like how to fight dirty and how to swing a sword without any sort of honour to it. Garon picked up these skills in a quickness.
  One of the men, a knight, decided to take him as his squire.
  And before seventeen -
  Garon himself was a knight.
  
  He made a name for himself.
  For getting things done.
  
  And soon enough he found himself as a recruit for the citywatch.
  
  And the rest is history.
  
  
  
  Other
  Garon has the nickname “Gaza”. A name he picked up in his early days as a city watchmen. He says that he himself has forgotten its origin, though many of the smallfolk that know and appreciate him call him by it.
  
  He is a virgin.
  Surprisingly. He’s come close to it - a lot. But something in him wants to wait until he finds the right woman.
  
  Garon, while having a hard exterior, finds himself a bit misunderstood now and then. Sometimes he wishes he could just drop this sort of persona he has and be that carefree child he once was again. But there’s no going back to that anymore.
  
  While he is STILL technically banished from Duskendale,
  He is still, as far as he knows, its heir. He has a theory that the town will pass to his father’s child with Maegelle, however. Something that, at the end of the day, he doesn’t seem to care about.
  Duskendale is no longer his home.
  
  Biscuit
  A teacake. All good and gooey on the inside, with a strong and hard biscuit base. You have to individually unwrap it to discover this, however.
  
  
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
• 
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
  
  The Prince
  
  
  
  
  
  Appearance
  Born with a clubfoot,
  Jae is rarely seen without his weirwood crafted cane. Without it, he hobbles. And his mother once told him that a Prince must never hobble. He is 6’0 tall. He likely would’ve been taller if not for the aforementioned malformity. He looks strong, with broad chest and shoulders. He has his father’s luscious Valyrian hair while his eyes are of his mother - them being an oak brown. His worst feature is the obvious - his limp - though he’d never admit it. His best feature is ( in his humble opinion ) is his face, which is a handsome one… even with the scars.
  
  Name
  Jaehaerys Targaryen
  
  Nicknames / Titles
  Prince Of The Seven Kingdoms
  Ser
  “Jae”
  
  Sex
  Male
  
  Age
  30
  ( 270AC )
  
  Marital Status
  Very single.
  
  Family
  House Targaryen
  
  
  
  Biography
  
  Jaehaerys prides himself on his blood.
  He is that of Old Valyria.
  He is important.
  
  As the youngest of nine siblings ( some of which he never actually met before The Gods took ‘em ), he always struggled with making his mark. His early days as a boy stumbling around The Red Keep were hard on him. He would be made fun of by everyone. His brothers, his sisters, the guards and the cooks. The other children were the worst. They would call him the most awful of names. A part of him was glad when his mother told him that she’d be bringing him to live in Dorne.
  Another part of him was disappointed.
  Disappointed that he couldn’t prove the namecallers wrong - and shove it in their faces.
  
  He had a lot of anger in him upon travelling to Sunspear.
  
  That anger, in his words, soothed. While he didn’t necessarily like everything about Dorne, he always said that the people were the friendliest people he’d ever met. And the bravest. It was in his years as an adolescent that he found himself. He thanks The Dornish for that. It was also in Dorne where he made his closest friends. Jaehaerys’ entourage was almost infamous for the shenanigans they all got themselves into. One particular story that Jae often recalls is the one in where they all stole Lord Dalt’s prized horse.
  
  He returned to King’s Landing at the age of six and twenty.
  Better than ever.
  A man of utmost charm.
  
  He has since developed the kindest of reputations. A foil to his older brother, King Lucerys. Where Lucerys is mean spirited and recluse, Jaehaerys is always polite and outgoing.
  
  He cares for his people.
  
  
  
  Other
  There are many rumours surrounding Jaehaerys, his goodness aside. The smallfolk ( and the court, to an extent ) gossip about how he has yet to marry. He was betrothed, for a time, to the daughter of Lord Dayne - before she herself decided to call off the engagement for unknown reasons. The people whisper that Jaehaerys prefers the company of men a little too much -
  Though he laughs these claims off when approached.
  
  Jaehaerys was knighted by his uncle, Nymor Martell, at the age of nineteen. For no other reason other than the fact that Jae was the only man who would stay up and drink with Nymor until dawn.
  
  He is always at practice when it comes to his swordsmanship. Jae feels as if, due to his disability, he always has a lot to prove to others. Ever since he was a boy, he dreamt of being one of the best swordsman who ever lived.
  He isn’t.
  But he still hasn’t given up on that dream.
  
  He is fond of the arts and has a love for playing the high harp.
  
  Biscuit
  An after-eight. Rich and extravagant. Something you don’t often try, but when you do - it’s good. Has a minty freshness to it. And a dark ( chocolate ) side.
  
  
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
• 
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  
  
  Trout In The Tower
  
  
  
  
  
  Appearance
  Pale and frail and sickly skinny. Mariya, while having an odd beauty to her, has always looked ill. Many of the children in Riverrun even jest that the real daughter of Edmyn The Lame died years ago and that this girl is only her memory. Her ghost. She is short, at 5’1. Her hair is a muddy brown. Her eyes a similar colour with flecks of grey. Her worst feature would probably be her hands which she has always thought to be quite masculine looking. Her best feature is…
  
  Well, she’s still trying to figure that out.
  
  Name
  Mariya Tully
  
  Nicknames / Titles
  Lady
  Little Mariya
  
  Sex
  Female
  
  Age
  17
  ( 283AC )
  
  Marital Status
  Eligible.
  
  Family
  SEE House Tully
  
  
  
  Biography
  
  Mariya feels as if she’s spent her life inside the walls of Riverrun. It’s tallest tower especially so.
  She was born there.
  She grew up there.
  She prayed to The Seven for the first time there.
  And asked for their forgiveness when she received her first kiss from Tom Rivers there.
  
  She’ll die there.
  
  And that is her greatest fear.
  
  She has, as of recent, come into her own however. Blossoming into an elegant young woman. She wants to use this blossoming to get out of Riverrun. To leave her brother, Bennifer, and her bastard brother, Almos, behind. To go and see the different corners of the world and meet the people that inhabit those corners. She wants to swim in open water and be swept off her feet by the most dashing Prince imaginable.
  
  With her father’s sudden demise.
  Her time starts now.
  
  
  
  Other
  She has a great fondness for her mother, Sylva, and her older brother, Tommen. Even if they have not spent much time with her throughout her life. She admires them and the fierceness they have within.
  
  Mariya prays thrice daily.
  She’s never had too many friends at Riverrun, thus at a very young age she pledged to develop friendships with The Seven.
  
  She was born prematurely.
  As a babe, she was so small that her father, Edmyn, and her mother worried day and night over her survival. She made it through those days and those nights though. Earning her the nickname “Little Mariya”.
  
  Mariya despises, and I mean DESPISES, fish. Finding their beady little eyes quite frightening.
  
  Biscuit
  A hobnob. They’re alright. Weak. Bit crumbly. Could be a lot better as a biscuit. Just like Mariya.
  
  
  ♛ ♛ ♛
  

​

 

[RayPurchase]

♛ ♛ ♛

The Lord Commander

Appearance

Standing at 6”00 and broad of shoulder, he is now arguably past his prime. His once brown hair is now fully grey as is his beard. He looks after himself however and has not gone to fat, in fact in his white cloak and armour, he still looks the part of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and that they say is half the battle.

Name
Ser Quenton Hightower - Lord Commander of the Kingsguard - The Vigilant

Sex
Male

Age
50

Marital Status
Single (Celibate and Unmarried)

Family
House Hightower (will leave the Family Tree blank in case anyone wishes to take the role of Lord Hightower)

Biography
Quenton was born as the youngest of Lord Hightower’s 3 sons, as such despite receiving the Hightower name, short of several accidents, he was likely to receive little else but this. Whilst his brother’s were destined to rule, he went down and altogether different path, taking advantage of his combination of high born upbringing and training, and the freedom allowed by his position in the line of succession. Already marked out as the best swordsman out of his brothers by Hightower’s Master at Arms, he spent his early years as a young man plying his trade in the Disputed Lands, in various sellsword companies, as a fully trained and self-equipped Westerosi Knight, employment was not hard to come by in these parts. The Windblown, the Company of the Cat, The Bright Banners, were but to name a few of the companies he spent at least some time with, carving out a reputation as a no nonsense and mighty warrior, even if coming across as prideful and something of a glory hunter.

Having turned 28 he returned to Westeros, having had his fill of the near constant warfare that plagued the bickering city states of Essos. After 10 years he had solidified both his martial skills, and earned several scars, those physical and mental. On his return he was recruited by the new Lord Hightower (His brother) as commander of the Hightower Levys. This soon brought him into contact with Rickard Tyrell, the heir presumptive to Highgarden, first making his acquaintance at a Tourney held within the grounds of Highgarden, with the pair sharing several cups of wine as the night wound down. They were an odd pair, Rickard with his studious and abrupt nature, and Quenton, hot headed and loud, and yet somehow it worked. It was success at these tourneys throughout the 7 Kingdoms that helped him garner further fame, ‘The Flame of Highgarden’. Even though he crowned many a Queen of love and beauty, none of them conquered his heart, the swaggering knight simply journeying to the next town. As such with the passing of one of the Kingsguard, his name was thrown into the ring, noble birth, a proven warrior, a well known name to keep the smallfolk happy. Thus he obtained his white cloak and his name was entered into The White Book. For 6 years he served, without any real blemish, in fact on two separate occasions he prevented attempts on the King’s life, earning himself the moniker ‘The Vigilant’, as noted in The White Book. After 6 years he was joined in the Red Keep by his old friend, Rickard Tyrell, still heir assumptive to Highgarden following his Brother assuming the Lordship in his place, but now holding the position of the Hand of the King. That year also saw the passing of the Lord Commander, and it just so happened that with the rise of his friend to the position of the Hand of the King, Quenton also saw himself rise to the position of Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Many of the smallfolk, and the Lords and Ladies at court put 2 and 2 together. It seemed beyond coincidence that these 2 events came at the same time, many viewed this as Rickard putting a Reachman, and one of his own allies, in this position of power. But given the fact that final authorisation came from the King, it was difficult to prove.

However after 6 years as Lord Commander, it has been difficult to fault the choice of Quenton. He may not be the greatest warrior to wear the white, or the most inspiring leader, but he is a solid leader, and even as he hits his 50th birthday, still a formidable fighter, even if some of his younger brothers could probably best him. Despite some personal misgivings about the King and his actions, including the execution of one of Rogar Baratheon of the Kingsguard for an alleged affair with the Queen, Quenton has carried out his orders to the letter without question or hesitation, safe in his position and holding the King and the Hand of the King’s favour.

Then the King was murdered.

Other
Quenton is rarely seen out of the armour of the Kingsguard, his weapon of choice being a castle forged steel longsword, the pommel containing the heraldry of House Hightower.

Is quick to anger at actions that he sees as insubordination, expecting those under his command to follow his orders without question. Questions about his competence or honour is also sure to get a rise out of him.

Biscuit
Raisin Cookie - You take a bite into that sweet sweet chocolate cookie and…. What’s this!?! Raisins! SUCH TREACHERY!!


♛ ♛ ♛​

 

[Awesome_Nemo]

Godric Stone, The Bastard of House Dutton​

Appearance

Spoiler: Appearance

Godric has a strong face. A face that can be described as looking similar to the statue's of heroes around King’s Landing: Hard, but handsome. Sharp, but noble. His features are not out of place in the Vale, though his harder look leads some to assume relation to the mountain clans. The man's eyes are intense, seeming to bore into what they look at, as a lance would into a breastplate, and the bright blue of them can be considered very off putting to some. His short, dark brown hair, is kept short, blending into the stubble on his face. Of course, many do find him rather pleasing to look at, and very obviously as belonging to noble stock, though the at times harsh look in his face can be off putting to some. Godric is a tall, at around 6'5", and quite muscular man, being well proportioned and powerful enough that some small folk assume him to be a powerful scion of a great house, upon first laying eyes on him. Godric carries himself with pride and purpose, as only a knight could, and makes a point not stand aside for most anyone, giving his movements an unstoppable quality to them, though his swagger and grin can help disarm people from all but running when they see him marching towards them.

Sex
Male.

Age
25, born in a Winter of 275

Marital Status
Unmarried

Biography

Spoiler: Biography

It was during a hunt that when Damon Dutton was told of his daughter, Deanna being held by the mountain clans, her coach having been ambushed as she returned from the Eyrie. Being an old, yet disenfranchised house, Lord Damon being unable to pay the ransom, rode out with his house guard and rescued his daughter, though lost his arm in the fighting. It was within the next few months, during Winter, that Godric was born.

Godric’s birth brought a cloud over the Dutton’s household. The child was a reminder of a dark time in the lives of the Duttons, and being thought to hold the blood of the mountain clansmen, a tainted lineage. Beyond that, politically speaking, to add salt to the wound, Godric’s very existence as Deanna’s child harmed her marriage prospects, and given house Dutton’s state, the possibility of a lower marriage would greatly harm the house’s existence. To preserve both Deanna’s chastity, and the House’s honour, Lord Damon bribed those present and claimed that was his own, raising him as such, naming him Godric and giving him the surname Stone.

During his youth was Winter, and being a bastard child, his survival was not of primary concern to the remainder of the house, and if not for his mother, he assumed to be his sister’s, charity, he likely would have starved. His treatment by his uncles and cousins were far less from pleasant as well, with him enduring their bullying and hatred at what he represented, sometimes forcing him into damaging and life threatening situations. In fact, it was only thanks to his place as a noble and his mother’s pity that he wasn’t thrown to the wolves at birth, and instead given an education.
Because of his treatment by most of his family, Godric spent much of his time among the small folk, taking on friends, and eventually lovers as he aged. During one of his trips among the markets and roads he heard a rumour of his birth, and upon confronting his perceived father over it, fled in shame and self loathing.

It was while he wandered the roads of the Vale aimlessly that he was set upon by a group of bandits, and being barely in his teens and without coin, the vegabonds planned to kill him for sport. Before they could commit to their dastardly plan however, as if sent by the seven themselves, came a knight who drove the bandits before him with his flashing sword. This hedge knight, Harrold of the Sister Isles, was a good man, honest and righteous. Godric all but begged to be taken on as his squire. From that point on, the two travelled through the Vale, Riverlands, Reach, Crownlands and Westerlands, with the duo battling bandits and renegades, rescuing maidens and winning tournaments, and slaying foul beasts and the occasional large rodent. It eventually became clear to Godric that to Harrold, it was the journey that mattered more than lands and titles, to do for the realm the best one could. It was sometime in his mid teens that Godric first killed a man, a simple bandit that had made the mistake of turning his back to the squire when attempting to take a woman hostage, though after the would be kidnapper laid butchered, the woman seemed far less enthused with her rescue than planned.

During one attack the pair performed on a bandit den, While Godric was in his late teens, Harrold was grievously wounded when the two nearly finished off the bandits, as one had been hiding behind a rock during the fighting, by a knife to the back. After they dispatched the assailant, Godric did his best to help Harrold to the nearby Sept that had told them of the bandits, eventually carrying the man when his mentor’s legs gave out. Upon arriving, the squire was heartbroken that Harrold, his teacher and the closest thing he had to a father, had died of his wound. The Septon, as a thanks for ridding the nearby wood of the bandits, performed rites for Harrold, and went even further as to knight Godric (one of the brothers conveniently once being a knight themselves).

Now officially a Knight, Godric continued travelling to uphold his vows of chivalry, though in contrast to his mentor, was more materialistic in his ambition to earn a title and land, and to become more than a simple bastard. His brief moment of fame came early in his career, and seemed to exemplify that Dutton Bastard’s skill and luck. Unable to properly afford a full suit of armor, outside his dented breastplate and helmet, and being forced to use a donkey as his steed, Godric could look like a knight in the barest idea of the concept. In fact, when he joined a tourney at maidenpool, he was nearly laughed off the field when approaching the joust. All the more surprise when he unseated his opponent, taking his armor (which of course had to be refitted for a promise of the prize money) and horse for himself, and eventually winning the tournament now that he was brought to an equal playing field.

His journey eventually brought him to King’s Landing, shortly after King Lucerys’s death, and perhaps while here, as a hedgeknight, he may be able to do something of renown or meet the right lord, to become a household knight, and eventually landed so as to finally scrub the stain of bastardry from his person.

Other

• Talented climber from the many times he had to climb back to the castle after being thrown from it by his family members in his youth.
• Has a soft spot for helping women and children, finding himself going into a blind fury when someone would take advantage of them.
• Is accustomed to sleeping uncomfortably, spending days without removing armour when on the road.
• Seeks to make the eight, with Dorne, the Iron Islands, the North, and the Stormlands left to go.
• Those who know of the Duttons have heard rumours of the bastard hedgeknight, with his parentage being a grand source for rumours among those who care, including one that guesses Deanna as his mother and that his father was an Arryn- though they are only rumours after all.
• He is terrified of snakes, having been tormented by his uncles with one as a child.

Family and House

Spoiler: Family Tree

Spoiler: House Dutton Information

House Dutton

Sigil
A Centaur Rearing whilst holding a Dothraki Arakh on a field of Blue with a border of gold

Words
First to field, last to rest

Brief description
A house founded by a Dothraki mercenary that accompanied the Andal invasion, he soon distinguished himself on the field of battle, and so as to marry a woman that he had fallen in love with, forsook his heathen gods to instead follow the faith of the seven. After their marriage he was knighted by Artys Arryn. Over the centuries, the family would slowly decline, till reaching a shadow of their former selves, having very little outside of an old name and a castle in disrepair. Despite this they still hold great pride, and still look to the rusty and blood stained Arakh of their ancestor as a reminder of ancient and more proud days.

Castle
Far Climb. Situated at the top of a rising hill that ends with a sharp cliff face, Far climb is a fortress first, as that is what it had began as. Facing West towards the High road on the cliff side, and having it’s rolling farmlands extend east towards the Vale of Arryn, it is a strategic point simply for it’s important placing as an outpost on the Vale’s territory. Though despite being an important fort, it is still simply one of the many lines of defense to breach the Vale, and it’s battlements in this age are manned by a small force, and it’s hilly fields are more sparsely plowed.

Biscuit
Likely a broken one from all the times he had fallen from a window. Though maybe a strawberry shortbread one, as he is a lover of sweets.