Seat: Stonehold
Words: “Still We Stand”

Tyland Lannister "The Broken Lion"

Alias: Lord of Casterly Rock, former Master of Coin to the Greens

The younger twin of the late Jason Lannister, Tyland Lannister served the Greens as an able Master of Coin and administrator up until his mutilation at the hands of the Blacks in Kings Landing. Gelded, blinded, and crippled, Lord Tyland is currently recovering from his torture in a Septry just outside of Kings Landing.

A man of considerable personal charm and political talent, with a keen sense of justice, it was he who was responsible in dividing the Crown's treasury at the outset of the Dance- sending quarters of the wealth to the Iron Bank, Casterly Rock, and to the care of the Most Devout in Oldtown, while retaining a quarter for the Greens to use as a warchest.

His mutilations and the death of his beloved twin have left this previously honorable and forthright man embittered, and eager for revenge against the Ironborn who devastated his homeland. Secretly, Lord Tyland has become much disillusioned with Targaryen rule.

Even after his mutilation and during the slow course of his recovery, Tyland has maintained close ties to the Iron Bank of Braavos.

To say that House Hightower has seen better days would be an understatement. Their armies have been slaughtered, most of their noble line has either been found guilty of treason or killed in battle, and the lordship has fallen to a boy barely old enough to avoid a regency. Nonetheless, they still stand staunch and proud, Lords of Hightower, one of the oldest (and until recently, one of the richest and most powerful) houses in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

The Hightowers did not merely make the mistake of supporting the greens in the war, no: they had practically created the greens in the first place. Thanks to the desires of Queen Alicent Hightower to get her own son on the throne, the entire realm was thrown into chaos. Many still blame the Hightowers for the Dance of Dragons and think of them all as treasonous snakes. This is not an entirely unfounded reputation.

The Hightowers, even after their misfortunes, still hold sovereignty over Oldtown, as well as the lordly seat that is their namesake. These incomes should fill their coffers back up in time, but they are still sorely lacking in manpower, particularly knights.

Though no more handsome than any other young lord, Otto's pristine cleanliness and lack of battlefield scars give him an overall pleasant appearance.

Personality: A young man of six and ten, Otto is not quite the caliber of commander that his brother was, and is not taken seriously by older lords due to his age. Most claim he is “barely a man”, to the point where the mere utterance of said phrase annoys him. Otto boasts charisma and intellect beyond his young age, but lacks the wisdom and foresight that only comes with experience.

Though by no means a fool, Otto is easily influenced if one plays to his pride and desire to be seen as powerful a lord as his late father. He is painfully aware of House Hightower’s damaged state, though he cares far more about the opinions of others (and the affections of women) than a man in his position should. As of late, he has renewed his interest in swordplay, and has dispatched men to search for his family’s ancient Valyrian steel sword, Vigilance.

Biography: Young Otto, named for his great uncle, was raised among the Hightower children by his father Lord Osmund. Being the second son of Lord Osmund Hightower, he was not able to receive the same level of grooming and specific training as his older brother.

That said, trips to King’s Landing were not uncommon for Ormund’s two eldest sons, given the Hightowers’ strong ties to the Targaryens after Alicent’s marriage. Renald and Otto got along famously with their Targaryen cousins. He has a distinct memory of he and his brother being reprimanded for fighting with wooden swords in the presence of the royal family, only to have Prince Daeron himself join the fun shortly after. Daeron would become his father’s squire, not to mention one of Otto the Younger’s closest friends growing up. Eventually, the trio were joined by Osmund’s third son Leon, and constantly argued and boasted about who would slay the most enemies when they first went to war together.

Unfortunately, when Renald, Daeron and Lord Osmund left to fight at Tumbleton, they didn’t come back. Otto and Leon were alone now. Their father was dead, their brother and best friend with him, leaving Young Otto as the Lord of Hightower and only Tobias and Ruben to take care of them. This was two years ago, and yet Otto’s grip on the lordship is still tenuous, with his own advisors undermining his authority at every turn…

Tobias has seen nine and thirty namedays, though much like his sister, he has aged quite well. He wears the Hightower house sigil on his shield.

Personality: Tobias "Silvershield" is an experienced knight whose honour and dedication to House Hightower and keeping the King’s Peace makes him incredibly loyal and driven. Whatever the cost, Tobias will champion his house to the bitter end. People are slow to earn his trust, but will scarce find a more staunch friend and ally once they have.

Biography: Tobias, being Ser Otto’s son, had the privilege of studying under one of the wisest knights in all the Reach. He and Gwayne were fast learners when it came to the ways of battle, and Tobias took to rooting out bandits from Oldtown and the surrounding areas. Though it proved too costly to continue when the war broke out, Tobias created an equivalent to the City Watch known as the Silver Guard in order to root out crime, earning him the nickname “Silvershield”. He came to be revered highly by smallfolk and soldiers alike for his dedication to keeping the King’s Peace.

Because of his dedication to the King’s Peace, Tobias was personally opposed to his sister’s attempts to place Aegon II on the throne, as he saw it as a transgression of the realm’s laws and customs. Nonetheless, he fought alongside his his house. brothers and cousins... and of course, he was there at both Battles of Tumbleton, where he watched said brothers and cousins die.

With the death of Lord Ormund and Ser Otto the Elder, much of the responsibility to govern fell at least in part to Tobias, as he is currently the the eldest surviving member of House Hightower (excepting Lady Alicent, of course). He spent much of his time tutoring his cousin Otto the Younger, barely stopping to mourn the loss of his father and brother. He has been working constantly to prevent House Hightower’s collapse, and yet the only one who doesn’t seem to notice the toll it is taking on his health is Tobias himself. Tobias says defiantly that he will rest once his cousin’s lordship is secure and his sister is safe from the headman’s axe. “I will take a long, long vacation,” he has said, “And you will not see me for a year. At least.”

Ruben has seen two and thirty namedays, and looks particularly intimidating despite not being especially tall. His own personal sigil replaces the grey and white of House Hightower with red and black. (Ruben's eye is fine, but this picture was too good not to use.)

Personality: Ruben “Blacktower”, the youngest son of the late Ser Otto Hightower, is far more bitter and malicious than his brother. He have would loved nothing more than to see his sister’s children sit the Iron Throne so that he might have his own power swell. Ambitious and cunning, Ruben stops at nothing to get what he wants. Though he can seldom be found on a battlefield, he is a highly capable duelist, using a rapier in one hand and a parrying dagger in the other as he fights. Ever graceful, even Ruben's footsteps have become silent as a whisper as a result of the mysterious training he received in the free cities.

Ruben’s lack of subtlety in matters of intrigue is often to his own detriment. He is charismatic and sly enough, but shrewd individuals will be able to easily catch on when he is up to something... though exactly what he’s up to is never certain. House Hightower has found good use for him as an effective diplomat, and his negotiation skills have helped to cushion the blow of the house’s more recent misfortunes. Most agree he is far, far too successful a spymaster for someone so... blunt. A few people like Ruben well enough, but almost nobody trusts him.

Biography: Even as a child, Ruben showed little interest in knights and chivalry, instead turning to books. Ruben read incessantly, picking up bits and pieces of information about everything under the sun from a very young age. Most of his first “schemes” typically involved stealing rare books and scrolls. Some he took from the Citadel, others from his fellow nobles, and some he even stole from the personal collections of the Targaryens themselves. He came upon rarer and rarer books as he grew older, developing deft, sticky fingers, as well as a silver tongue.

When he was twenty-three, Ruben left on business to the free cities for four years with three hundred gold dragons. When he returned, he had over four thousand gold dragons, a baseborn daughter by a Lysene prostitute, a ship of his own, and a parrying dagger made of genuine Valyrian steel. He has rarely spoken about his trip since, though his dueling skill began to excel that of every knight in House Hightower, including Tobias.

Age: 57

Personality: An enigma even in the North, it's difficult to determine his true motives, assuming he has any at all. His reign over the Dreadfort has been with immense stability and security, as he rules his lands with ruthless pragmatism. The legendary cells deep below his mighty fortress once sat empty whilst under the reign of his predecessors, now there hardly passes a day that a new occupant is thrown in, no matter if the crime ranges from petty thievery to murder or rape. Being a cold and distant man, even to his own family, he's become a product of many rumors, and any rumor about a Bolton tends to never be pleasant. He has been accused of flaying his prisoners on many occasions, yet no proof has ever been brought forth to confirm this. He possesses a healthy tactical mind, as shown through his successes during the Skagosi Rebellion, but he's certainly more of a leader than a fighter. Lesser men are easily unnerved by him, once he casts his icy blue eyes upon them, and thus gives him an intimidating presence despite lacking the stature or bulk. He is loved by none, but feared and respected by some, and rather not thought about by the rest. He prefers this, since he seems content to keep House Bolton outside of the spotlight if possible, but more than capable of taking advantage of any opportunity should one ever present itself.

Bio: Lord Royce was the only child born to Lord Ronnel Bolton and his Karstark wife, who had only lived a few years after his birth before she succumbed to a sudden illness. His father hardly fared much better when a hunting incident took his life before Royce's tenth nameday. The halls of the Dreadfort was hardly the best place for any boy to grow up in, much less a young lord, but he was a Bolton, and there was definitely nowhere else in the world where he could possibly fit in better. The dungeons beneath the Dreadfort were vast, but usually strangely empty, something that would slowly change during the length of Royce's reign. Many men would soon find themselves within the bowels of the Dreadfort, a few are added to the ranks, while the rest would only meet a far more grisly fate.

No doubt, the Dreadfort has always seemed to attract the dredges of the North, and is perhaps a partial reason for the man that Lord Bolton now is, as well as the sinister reputation that the Dreadfort has always possessed. Anywhere else, the men who fill the Bolton ranks would most likely would be carted away to the wall, of the few that actually leave the dungeons, it isn't surprising to see them be added as soldiers or man-at-arms, guarding the very gates that they had once been dragged into in chains. One would normally question the loyalty of such men, but all seem to be completely submissive to the Boltons, nearly to the point of devotion, possibly a byproduct of what they experienced in the Dreadfort's torture rooms, though they and the Boltons are certainly not telling.

Former rapists, murderers, thieves, and more were the sort of lot that Lord Bolton had to contend with whilst growing up, as all other Boltons generally do, and it's probably quite strange when compared to the rest of Westeros with the sons of nobility growing up in lavish luxury. Eerily enough, Royce Bolton thrived in this setting, eventually building off the teachings of such horrible men to become the man that he is today. Perhaps a man that makes most uncomfortable and uncertain when in their company, but also one that has kept that usual stirrings in Bolton lands to a minimum.

Outside of spending time with the Dreadfort's outcasts, Royce spent a lot of time reading inside various hidden chambers within the walls of the Dreadfort. Many of which contained dusty old tomes that haven't been touched in centuries, and even one room that contained much more... sensitive items. Regardless, one had to appreciate the history that walls held, considering how long that the Dreadfort has stood for. Early on, it was clear that Royce wasn't of the type that rush headfirst into battle, which did happen occasionally when wildling raiding parties made it far enough south to cross into his lands. He had always been exceptional with a knife, and more than proficient with a sword, but it just really wasn't like him. His men possessed a ruthlessness that could be found nowhere else in Westeros. Why not use it to its fullest potential?

If anything, Royce is a lord that gives much attention to that of his realm, mostly now in his older age, as he spends equal time traveling throughout Bolton lands as ruling from the Dreadfort. Perhaps this is always a dread to the Whitehills, Overtons, and other houses sworn to the Dreadfort, but none have the luxury to complain about it, nor the gull to do so. Beyond this, he is present on nearly all councils in Winterfell, and is usually the first to arrive and leave, never one to overstay his welcome.

As of yet, he has been married multiple times, but it seems that most women simply don't agree well with the Dreadfort, with his last wife dying soon after birthing his youngest son. Ever since, he hasn't remarried, seeing little cause or desire to do so, though he's a man always willing to form a quick alliance if the conditions are right. His eldest son recently died due to a sudden fever, though in actuality it was certainly poison supplied by his son Roderik, considering that there are no plots or conspiracies that occur within the Dreadfort that Lord Royce isn't aware of. He could honestly care less since his eldest was sterile from a childhood accident, and the inheritance would become troublesome since his eldest would have left no issue behind.

Cold pragmatism seems to rule supreme over the Dreadfort with stunning efficiency.

Age: 26

Personality: In many ways, Roderik is a mirrored image of his father. In so many other ways, he is greatly different. His true self is hidden behind a thousand different masks, each and every one carefully crafted for the perfect situation. Should his true face be revealed, it would certainly be less than human- an unimaginable beast hiding within human skin. Once hidden behind these many guises, he charming and handsome, definitely the fantasy of many young maidens that he has met over the years. The reality is usually gruesome, as many men who have died within the confines of the Dreadfort can attest to. His father taught him how to use a knife with great skill, and all his cuts are clean and never made by mistake. It could be seen as artful, if one were to ignore the screams of agony that regularly echo throughout the ancient halls. Of all things that he indulges in, he only continues as long as he finds it entertaining, and he still has yet to become bored of some of the most vilest of pastimes. Roderik inherited his father's cunning and quick mind, though he possesses much more ambition and drive than his overly content father. Unfortunately, he tends to be much more reckless than his father, sometimes being overwhelmed by fits of uncontrollable rage, caused by the incessant headaches that were started by the wounds he had been given during the Dance. He can easily flip from being calm and collected from one moment to nearly collapsing from convulsing waves of pain throughout his entire head. As it appears, he's become more skillful when it comes to playing the game, falling behind his masks like a second skin, with very few men being any the wiser.

Bio: Few children are born with evil intention, so perhaps Roderik is an exception. It seems that Roderik always had some kind of strange fascination with pain and suffering, first dealing it out the Bolton hunting hounds, much to the annoyance of the kennelmaster, who could do little lest he meet with a terrible fate. It was hardly long before his own father took notice of this, which was slightly odd, for a man who generally cared little of the welfare of his own sons. He saw Roderik as a special case, seeing how he seemed to be wasting good talents on worthless dogs, and refocused his urges and desires onto much more practical things. That was the day that his father first gave Roderik a flaying knife.

Roderik always remembered that day vividly. How natural it felt in his hand- just the right amount of weight, heft, and sharpness. It would be many long days and nights, having his own father teach him how to properly skin the wildlife that the huntsmen always seemed to bring in. His father always reminded Roderik that there were more reasons than one that their banner was that of a flayed man. If you could not flawlessly skin an animal, then the art of flaying a man alive would be lost to you. It was emphasized that the flaying of a man was a secret that had to be kept within the walls of the Dreadfort, unless he wished to jeopardize the peace that his father had spent so long to achieve. Lord Royce had never bothered to teach Roderik's elder brother the art of flaying, since he always knew that he never had the mettle for it. Roderik on the other hand, he could easily see the urge and desire in his eyes.

The first actual man that Roderik flayed was a loud one. Screaming and screaming, with Roderik absorbing it all. It felt like the beautiful notes of a lute to him, and he never missed a stroke, with Lord Royce always nodding in approval. Boltons no long wear the skin of men as cloaks, as they once did, nor do they display the skins of petty prisoners like trophies. No, it is tossed in with the rest of the dead that comes out of the Dreadfort, with a few sometimes going missing in the middle of the night.

In between this quality time Roderik often had with his father, even a Bolton is expected to do as any lord's son does. As such he often trained rigorously with Ser Jesper 'Crookjaw', the master-at-arms and captain of the guard whose face was always locked into the same scowl. His way of swordsmanship was ruthless and unforgiving, with the young boy barely lasting for any length of time. If the entire garrison was expected to train under Crookjaw, then Roderik certainly was of no exception. His bones were often broken, and he still has scars from the training, making the maester constantly patch the him up. The days came and went, but finally came the moments where Roderik managed to defeat Crookjaw, proving himself to be much more talented in swordplay than his father, though his victories almost always came with underhanded methods- after all, there's no such thing as fighting honorably among the soldiers of the Dreadfort.

Roderik eventually grew to be an very handsome man, save for his icy blue eyes, that can probably peer into the confines of most men's souls. He is undoubtedly an outstanding catch, if there existed a woman alive that could possibly survive him... stranger things have surely happened. Killing women is no different than killing men, though they tend to sing a sweeter tune.

When the Dance finally reared its ugly head, Roderik was a second son, and perhaps had an obligation to join the Winter Wolves to find adventure down south. Certainly nothing forced him to travel into the fires of hell, save for a desire to taste a different kind of blood. Perhaps, that's where he rightfully should have met his end, in the glory of battle, or not, but that would be far too happy of an ending.

If he cared for glory, he would have found it it aplenty, surviving Tumbleton with only a few light wounds to show for it, and he left those he had faced in pieces. It was the bloodbath that was the Butcher's Ball, even this demon couldn't overcome a single arrow that struck true and took his left eye away from him. Roderik remembers none of it, and his fallen body was tossed in with the rest of the dead, and it wasn't long before the looters came over them all, looking valuables, armor, and anything else of worth among the fallen. A looter was met with a dagger in the eye, and Roderik arose from the mass grave that was once a battlefield. A man once left for dead, forgotten, and cast aside, stronger than ever, and wracked with the same appetite that always seems to refuse to be satisfied.

Since that day, perhaps you could argue that the beast within Roderik is calmer, but it still lurks and still hungers for more. So, perhaps it was natural that he would lead Bolton men when the Northern host began to march south. There's definitely more fun to be had whilst hidden behind one of his many charming masks.

Age: 8

Personality: Maron remains quite the contrast when generally compared to his brother Roderik and even his father, Lord Royce. He seems to have legitimately kind tendencies, almost entirely the opposite of his older brother, Roderik. Oddly enough, like most boys of his age, he dreams of one day becoming a great knight like the heroes in the many stories that he reads and told by his elderly woman who served as the midwife during his birth. Even so, he certainly isn't a meek boy, facing dark terrors deep within the Dreadfort with an impressive amount of fearlessness and bravery. Even though he should have long ago been beaten down in such a place, he's only grown stronger, facing down the darkness of the Dreadfort with a surprising amount of adversity and a sense of justice. He's a stubborn boy, never hiding or shying away from anything, certainly not the monsters that call the Dreadfort home. He already possesses a natural talent for martial-related skills and his father's own quick wit, as well as horse-riding, hunting, and exploring.

Bio: Lord Royce always considered his former wife and Maron's mother as a timid and weak woman, and he long felt that his youngest son to be cut from from the same cloth, though as the years go by, it's clear that Maron is a much stronger boy than he previously thought. For such a boy to survive within halls often occupied with rapists and murderers is certainly impressive, and his father hasn't been as intrigued by something to this extent since his brother Roderik, and that was for far different reasons. He has the icy blue eyes that all Boltons have, but instead of sending chills through other men, it seems to possess an unprecedented strength and determination. One that possibly foreshadows future greatness.

Despite his young age, those sworn to the Boltons have quickly learned that despite how different Maron is to the rest of his family, he's definitely not weaker for it, and that's been completely clear since a very young age. When he often practices his swordsmanship with Crookjaw, even the wiry old captain has less of a scowl upon his face. He cares little for the dungeons, disliking the many horrible things that happen within in them, and already detests the brother who so greatly enjoys them. Of course, this doesn't stop him from exploring the deep bowels of the ancient fortress.

Therefore, it isn't out of question for Maron to spend time alone or with Worm- a pathetic stable boy that his father basically handed to young Maron for company. Worm is mostly submissive and barely possesses his own independent personality, but having him around seems to sometimes alleviate a bit of the loneliness that occasionally plagues the young lordling. So, honestly, it isn't uncommon for the two to be off on some kind of adventure together, though it is always initiated by Maron, since Worm lackx the willpower to really do anything by himself. One of the common sights within the Dreadfort is Maron dragging Worm into some sort of scheme.

Maron has never had any real relationship with his brothers. The age difference being far too vast with both, but his father seems to be beginning to take notice of Maron, probably only for his own amusement. Even his cold father doesn't stir the young boy, who seems to be ready to face off against anything that the world can throw his way.

Name: Rolland Dayne
Age: 37
Appearance: Rolland is large and muscly. While perhaps not greatly skilled with weapons, his fists packs a mean punch and he looks the part. Finely trimmed and kept hair and beard helps reimbursing the aura of discipline and strictness that surrounds Rolland, while his purple eyes makes sure no one forgets his heritage.

Personality: Honorable and commanding, Rolland is a natural leader. He holds his word and expects others to hold theirs. He is kind and loyal, yet strict in his charge and direct in both action and thought. Most consider him a practical man who gets things done, and Rolland lives by these words. He has been not just involved but by and large responsible for the prospering state Starfall and it's surrounding lands now find itself in, a result of his excellent organizational skills. Often considered the most intelligent of his house, many of his subjects are glad that Rolland is the heir to their beloved and soon-to-be late Lord Mallor. He has a weak spot for his younger brothers, often consciously or sub-consciously refusing to see Tregar for what he is.

Biography: Rolland was born when his grandfather Ulrick Dayne was at the height of his prime. Ulrick was considered one of the greatest knights of his generation, and Rolland's father Mallor did everything he could to live up to Ulrick's expectations. As such, Mallor came to expect a lot of his firstborn son, and Rolland was in his turn steeped in the same mold as those before him. He learned to take initiative, be active and always think two steps ahead. As the boy grew older, it was evident that while he was as big as his father and grandfather, he didn't have the same affinity for swordplay. While by no means a weak combatant, the brilliance of his elders simply wasn't there. He did however prove capable in learning the tactics and strategics of warfare, and was named Commander of the Starguard - the soldiers of Starfall - at a tender age of 18. It was mostly symbolical at the time, but Rolland has held the title ever since, gradually starting to perform its duties.

It was at this time, when he was 18, that Rolland was married to Nymeria Vaith in an attempt to strengthen the relation between the distant houses, While Rolland was immediately taken by his wife's beauty, it would take years until his feelings were reciprocated. Nevertheless, their first child was born a mere year after their marriage, with two more soon to follow. As Lord Mallor was severely wounded in battle during a raid in the marches, Rolland came to be the acting ruler of Starfall in all but name, with his uncle Criston serving as a mentor and advisor. As time passes, Rolland is growing increasingly comfortable and proficient in his role, and now that House Dayne has been stabilized once more, he seeks to weed out the remaining threats.

Name: Tregar Dayne
Age: 31
Appearance: Of average height, Tregar is athletically built with strong, wiry muscles and an innate capacity for agility. He sports black hair - unusual for a Dayne - that is a starch contrast to his violet eyes, and is generally considered very attractive. A long, vertical scar above his left eye, courtesy of Ser Drayton Dayne, seem to only strengthen this notion. Typically dresses in black and gold.

Personality: While Tregar retains his older brothers intelligence, they share little else. Whereas Rolland is stern but kind, Tregar is humorous but callous. While Rolland is just and honest, Tregar is arbitrary and deceitful. Though capable enough, Tregar isn't as good in command as his brother, and far from a natural leader. He is, however, a terrific combatant, unlike his brother. Wielding sword as well as spear with deadly purpose and precision, Tregar would often fight toe-to-toe with his equally talented cousin Drayton when the two were younger. When Drayton then was named the new Sword of the Morning by Rolland and Tregar's uncle Criston, Tregar's pride was immensely wounded.

Disillusioned and hurt by this, in his eyes, betrayal, Tregar has become an increasingly violent and cruel man, doing little to hide his natural affinity for blood, death and chaos now that he no longer stands to gain Dawn. Putting the blame on his goody two-shoes cousin, Tregar is visciously determined to make not just his brother and uncle, but Drayton especially, pay for their sins.

Biography: Known as "The Black Steed" for his hair, riding abilities, skills in fighting and success with women, Tregar has ever since being but a boy been profoundly fond of two things: combat and women. He would often compete with his younger brother Edric in winning the opposite gender's affections. Tregar viewed women as little other than objects, things to be gained and disregarded, while his brother seemed to love each and every one of them. While their competition often ended in stalemate when they were younger, Tregar's callousness did him few favours as the brothers and their prey matured, Edric eventually coming to outdo Tregar on a general basis as the two left their teens. Since then, Tregar has been nearly wholly focused on his other hobby in life - fighting.

Much like Tregar fought Edric over girls, he literally fought his cousin Drayton over who was the best warrior, and who deserved Dawn more. As children, it was more of a game than anything else, but as they grew older it became more and more reality, especially for Tregar. The young man was shorter and weaker, having to outdo his skilled cousin in every aspect to match him. After having lost one sparring too many, Tregar challenged Drayton to a real duel using real swords rather than wooden ones. With the old Ulrick Dayne watching and knowing such an emotional duel being against the Sword of the Morning's wishes, Drayton refused to duel, sparkling an attack from Tregar. The two fought intensely, with the outraged Tregar gaining the upper hand. As Tregar successfully disarmed Drayton, the latter managed to punch Tregar in the face. Drayton had then reached for his knife and slashed the bewildered Tregar across the face, effectively ending the duel as Tregar's vision was blurred by his own blood, and Drayton, refusing to kill the man, knocked him out.

At this time, the two were 24 years old. After that it was a fact set in stone that Drayton would be the next Sword of the Morning, a reality Tregar refused to accept. As Lord Mallor slips deeper and deeper from reality with every year that passes, Rolland is soon likely to officially be named Lord, with Tregar likely to take up the command of the Starguard. Refusing to acknowledge that he was ever defeated by Drayton (he had disarmed him!), much less not being deserving of Dawn, Tregar has been very disciplined in his training and adamant about receiving the title of Commander, as a means to lick his wounds. He has still not married and is not in the least interested in doing so, yet fears that Rolland will require him to do so if he is to be the new Commander. Due to Tregar's famous reputation as a fighter and womanizer, any woman who ends up being his bride will be in for a grim surprise.

Name: Belgrave Dayne, though he goes by Belgrave alone since leaving Starfall.
Age: 30
Appearance: While rather short, clearly below average height, Belgrave has broad shoulders and a thick frame, making him imposing to most even if he has to look up to see them in the eyes. He has dark-blond, unkempt hair and beard and, much like his father, lacks the violet eyes so typical for his house, instead sporting bleak blue ones. He has a very sturdy handshake and is in general a physical man, doing little to appear otherwise. His body is marred in all sorts of scars. Some by swords, some by arrows, some by accidents and one by fire.

Personality: As wild and ferocious as they come, Belgrave appears little more than a rabid dog. He angers frequently and irratically, becoming absolutely furious at mundane things while remaining perfectly calm at times he should be angry. He is in general as unpredictable as is temper, and changes his needs and ambitions on the fly. While being a hurricane of emotions and desires, there are a few things Belgrave is consistent with; he hates other people, he invariably enjoys hurting others, and he is madly in love with Lady Nora Tyrell after spotting her at a tournament, even though they've never actually met.

Belgrave is a very martial man. While not originally of notable skill, Belgrave has learned his trade as mercenary and thief by practical experience, as his many scars makes evident. When Belgrave enters a fight he does so with little regard for his own life, and only one man will ever leave it while still breathing. So far Belgrave has been that man every single time. He prefers the versatility of swords, but sometimes resorts to axes as they are easier to come by. He is a terrible rider, completely incapable on a horseback in battle, and prefers to travel by foot or boat whenever possible.

Biography: As his mother died giving birth to him, Belgrave's path in life has always been set in blood and despair. He was wild as a child, often picked on by other children because of his small size and the way his mother died. Never backing down, Belgrave fought his enemies with tooth and nail, often ending up the winner by simply never giving up, despite the pummelings he received. He would often take out his wrath on animals, torturing various little creatures to release the ever building pressure of angst and anger.

His father served as a sworn sword to Ulrick Dayne, often carrying out missions in various cities and settlements around Dorne, and sometimes beyond. Criston usually took Belgrave with him, and this was how Belgrave would come to spend most of his childhood - on the road. Even as the boy came to be a man Criston would bring him along every time, all the time, as the father feared what his son might do unsupervised. Belgrave became fond of this travelling, always moving and never stopping, and so when Lord Mallor suffered his wounds and Criston settled in Starfall, acting as mentor for Belgrave's cousin Rolland, Belgrave was far from happy. Confined to the walls of Starfall, he soon began lashing out violently once again.

Although always violent and blood-thirsty, these feelings were inflamed once again as Belgrave felt like a captive. And when he started picking fights this time around, the results were much more severe. He'd get in tavern brawls, not seldomly ending up killing the other combatant or combatants, and the craving among the public for his blood grew, as did the dark rumours - that held true - about the man. As such, Belgrave finally decided to simply leave Starfall one day, with no intention of returning.

The last three years on the road has been the best of Belgrave's life, and arguably the worst of those he has met. Leaving his noble name behind him and moving into the Reach, Belgrave has taken up command of a small group of rag-and-tag thieves, rapists and murderers that roam the countrysides of the Stormlands as well as the Reach in a continuous search for gold and victims. Belgrave has bigger ambitions than that, however, often ranting to his gang about his plans to sail to Essos and become a pirate. Whether these ambitions are anything but the bullshit that usually stems from Belgrave's mouth remains to be seen.

Personality

Ser Olyvar grew up awkward and quiet, until he found himself in the training yards of his father. Even when he could beat other noble Northern lordlings of his age in the yard, they could always beat him by reminding him he was no lord, and not even a Knight. Olyvar grew determined as a result, not only to become a Knight, which he did after proving himself a true killing machine in the Skaagosi rebellion, but to one day become a real Lord.

Though ambitious and possessing a certain cunning, Ser Olyvar is far from a scholar. He does not enjoy Cyvasse, or discussing the ancient histories of the Valyrians, let alone Westeros. His tastes tend towards the simpler side, and few that would come across him on a city street or in a castle corridor would assume him one of the foremost knights in all the Realm. He wants only to pick the right High Lord to use his talents for so that his dreams of Lordship will come true.

Biography

Olyvar Condon was a mistake, a child never planned, one that nearly cost his mother her life. Fortunately for everyone, Lady Ashana survived and little Olyvar was spared. But he would not be spared for long; at the age of seven years Lady Ashana would be lost to failing health. By then Olyvar was well entrenched as his elder brother's apprentice, all under the watchful eye of their father Ser Polyvar Condon. His father and elder brother were such outspoken and aggressive individuals it led young Olyvar to quietness and dreaming.

It would last for his entire upbringing, even when other young squires might have chirped about unseating their elder brother and father in training sessions. Or disarming their domineering elder brother--but even then Olyvar had only quickly jogged over to his brother's sword, and retrieved it for him. Olyvar wanted a knighthood, and his vision always narrowed to whatever he wanted, when he wanted something bad enough. Of his own future beyond Knighthood, Olyvar never thought much about it.

At least until the Skaagosi rebelled, and the Lord of Winterfell called his bannermen. The resulting fighting cost Olyvar his father, but the old Knight was able to bestow Knighthood upon him before falling to his wounds, Olyvar's older brother, and the new head of House Condon, finishing the abridged battlefield version of the knighthood ceremony. After returning home, Ser Olyvar saw no place for himself with his elder brother and his brother's three children, inlcuding two young boys. Like many Northern young men feeling like just an extra month when winter came harsh and deadly, Ser Olyvar joined the Winter Wolves under Lord Dustin.

While Ser Olyvar fight at a spectacular level, Lord Dustin's host was lost. Olyvar helped order the retreat, allowing SOME of the Northmen to escape into the Riverlands. During his time wandering the Riverlands Ser Olyvar would be put into moments of moral dilemma again and again, and always choosing to protect the weak or work to help feed the hungry. For these acts and his kindly demeanor, Ser Olyvar became known among the southern Riverlands as Ser Olyvar the Good. It was enough for the Lords of the Riverlands joining the new Northern army to invite Ser Olyvar with them.

Though Ser Olyvar arrives at King's Landing with the She-Wolf's army, he doesn't intend to ever go back home to the North. Somewhere he'll find an opportunity, where it's in King's Landing, or somewhere else.

House Darklyn of Duskendale has ruled the town of Duskendale and the surrounding lands in the Crownlands for centuries. Their keep is the Dun Fort, at the top of a hill that dominates the town.House Darklyn is an ancient and noble House that prides itself on it's unwavering loyalty to the Targaryen's, and maintain that they were the first to bend the knee to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. They suffered the first casualties during the civil war, their lands being attacked by the green's in the Sack of Duskendale 129 AC. Duskendale was unprepared for such an attack, and although they fought valiantly they could not stop the plundering of their lands, nor the butchering of Lord Meric. Three years after the attack and House Darklyn has recovered slightly from the attack, having repaired damages to their holdings and recouped some of their military forces.

The Darklyns had been petty kings of the First Men during the Age of Heroes. Their closest allies were their bannermen of House Hollard, who served them loyally and provided brides three times for the Darklyn kings of old. Even after their small realm was swallowed up by larger Andalkingdoms, the Darklyns' power sometimes reached as far as Crackclaw Point.
During the War of Conquest, Aegon I Targaryen and his half-brother Orys Baratheon defeated the Darklyns of Duskendale and the Mootons of Maidenpool. The Darklyns bent the knee to the Targaryens and served their new kings as the proud Lords of Duskendale.
During the Targaryen rule, the Darklyns were close allies to the dragonlords to the point that seven sons of Darklyn joined the Kingsguard, more than any other house, a fact which is referred to in the Darklyns' coat of arms. Ser Steffon Darklyn was a member of the Kingsguard of King Viserys I Targaryen and became Lord Commander of the Queensguard for Rhaenyra Targaryen when the realm was divided between supporters of Rhaenyra and supporters of her half-brother Aegon II Targaryen. Lord Darklyn attended Rhaenyra's coronation and sat on her black council; in retaliation Aegon's Hand Ser Criston Cole sacked Duskendale and had Lord Meric Darklyn beheaded during the Dance of the Dragons. Lady Meredyth Darklyn briefly sheltered Queen Rhaenyra after she fled King's Landing.

House Hollard

Name: Meredyth Darklyn
Age: 47
Appearance: http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2014/124/8/8/25_by_dandelion_s-d6gkted.jpg

Affiliation: House Darklyn

Personality:
Meredyth was once a proud and fierce woman who would have gladly died to preserve her House and children. A quick wit and an iron will attracted Lord Meric to her, and she was fearless in the face of danger. Her free spirit was tempered only by her unwavering loyalty to House and Crown.

However the loss of her husband and beloved son has taken it's toll on Meredyth. She is but a shell of her former self and is in a near constant state of mourning. She is silent and withdrawn, only speaking to call for food or water. The burning passion for which she was once known has been reduced to little more than smouldering ashes, and her wails can often be heard through the Dun Fort on the eve. She regards those around her with suspicion, and spends most of her days locked away in her room, waiting for a husband and son that will never return. On the occasions when she does emerge, she can be heard muttering about that “damned queen” who caused the deaths of those she once held dear.

Biography:
From birth to death, Meredyth was to have her entire life planned out for her. As the niece of Lord Hollard, it was determined that she would marry into the Darklyn's to maintain the ancient bonds between the two Houses. As such, the entirety of her youth was geared towards her destined role. While her brothers played with wooden swords and learned to ride, Meredyth was confined to the interior of her home and forced to study proper etiquette befitting a lady of her standing. Her days were filled with courtesies and her nights with histories and geographies of distant planes. It was a comfortable life, but Meredyth longed for something more, something greater; she longed to carve out her own path in life, much to the chagrin of her superiors.

Over time, this rebellious attitude only festered, and increasingly she would sneak out on rides with her brothers, or spar with them in the yard. Her father grew rather tired of her continued defiance, and decided that it was best she be moved to the Dun Fort to meet her future husband, before she did something that would jeopardize her chances of finding a husband. Thus, at the age of ten and eight, Meredyth was ripped from the teat of her home and family, and forced to suckle on the toxic milk of life as a noblewoman.

Upon arriving at her new home, Meredyth was greeted with the first sight of her new husband. Bryen Darklyn was his name; a loud, brutish man with no love for anything but women and war. It was obvious from his smirking lips and wandering eyes that he was interested in only one thing, and Meredyth had no desire to give it to him. During the first week of her stay she avoided Bryen at all costs, talking long walks around Duskendale during the day and exploring the Dun Fort at night. It was during one such excursion that she met Meric, Bryen's brother and the heir apparent to House Darklyn. Meredyth was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Where Bryen was arrogant and slobbish, Meric was confident and elegant. They quickly grew close, but their courtship did not go unnoticed.

Bryen was many things, but he was no fool. He could see that Meredyth was more interested in his brother, and he grew increasingly jealous as they spent more and more time together. Eventually he could take it no longer, and one fateful night he cornered Meredyth in her bedchambers. He was determined to take her for his own, and when he reached for her gown, Meredyth broke a vase across his face. He stumbled back, stunned, and she ran from the room. While fleeing she came across Meric and fell sobbing into his arms. When Meric learned of his brother's deed he was furious and demanded an audience with his father, the Lord, immediately. Lord Darklyn was outraged when he heard, and sent Bryen away to live with his relatives in King's Landing. The question remained as to what was to be done with Meredyth. For a time, it was suggested she would be sent back to her family, but Meric spoke out. He proposed a new marriage between himself and Meredyth, and reluctantly Lord Darklyn agreed.

Their marriage was to be a long and prosperous one, and Meredyth remained fiercely devoted to her husband until his death. Even as his head lay on the chopping block, she threw herself towards him, prepared to take the blow of Ser Criston Cole's blade so her husband would not have to. Her resentment grew towards Queen Rhaenyra as the civil war drew on, and she prayed to the Seven everyday for her son's safe return. When she learned of his death, it was to be a crushing blow from which she would not recover. Since his death she has retreated into herself, and left the day to day affairs of the castle to her sons, who grow increasingly concerned by her deteriorating health with each passing day.

Name: Jasper Darklyn
Age: 28
Appearance: http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2011/058/b/b/bb447d258026326d79c9398547f003b7-d3aiuvr.jpg

Affiliation: House Darklyn

Personality:
Jasper certainly defies all conventions when it comes to what personality traits one would expect to see in a Lord. Unlike his brothers and sister, Jasper is a quiet and reserved individual who is more prone to follow the ideas of others than pursue his own course of action. He is no great public speaker, and gets anxious around loud crowds, preferring to retire to his room to read.
Further, Jasper is rather timid and shrewd, and prefers to seek peace and reconciliation when able. He has no great love of war or conflict, and would prefer to watch from the sidelines if the mantle of leadership had not been thrust so forcefully upon him. What he lacks in leadership ability he makes up for in knowledge, having a sound understanding of the history, geography and economics. However despite his faults, Jasper is not an evil man and genuinely tries to do the best he can in the position he is in, but given his limited abilities this has proved challenging.

Biography:
The second child of Meric and Meredyth, Jasper was never the healthiest of children. Born prematurely and underweight, his first year of life was spent in a struggle for survival that left him physically weak and malnourished. This was certainly not helped by the fact that his mother tended to mollycoddle him, and refused to let him out of her sight during this early stage of his life. While his older brother was allowed to explore and play, Jasper was confined to the interior of his room in the Dun Fort.

With age came wisdom for Jasper. A series of debilitating diseases left him bed-ridden for large parts of his childhood, and so he would often occupy his time by reading books from the House library with abandon. As the other boy's Jasper's age learned to fight with sword and shield he remained indoors poring over dusty tomes, while his mother warned him of the dangers of the world. Jasper's ill health worried Meredyth constantly, and her over-protective nature meant that Jasper was raised in an environment largely free from any obstacle or challenge. Unlike his older brother Steffon, he was not expected to someday lead the House, and so he was never groomed for leadership; most assumed he would someday become a wise Maester, but circumstances dictated otherwise.

Meric, Jasper's father, became concerned that his sons had not yet produced heirs. Steffon was focused entirely on his squireship to worry about petty things such as love, and the other boys were too young to sire children. That left only one option if Meric was to secure his bloodline-Jasper. This presented somewhat of a difficulty as Jasper had so far been rebuffed during his brief attempts at courtship with the local women. Although he had been blessed with a handsome face, he severely lacked in the innate charm that seemed to come as second nature to his kin. No matter what his father tried, he could not persuade any of the Lords to marry their cherished daughters to his mild-mannered and tame son, and it seemed that Jasper would remain without wife until the end of his days. Jasper grew frustrated as time passed, as his father's machinations were holding him back from his own pursuit of knowledge; he vowed to marry the first chance he got, simply to appease the demands of his father.

It was to be shortly after Jasper had reached the age of ten and nine when fate would intervene to find him a partner. Lord Crabb was visiting Duskendale with his youngest daughter, Serra, a young maiden who was discontented with her lowly status within her House. She had heard tales of the young Darklyn seeking a bride, and so desperate was she to gain power and escape her father that she was prepared to wed the weak noble. She propositioned herself to Jasper during her third night at the Fort, and Jasper leapt at the chance to be free of his father's stern gaze at last. The two were wedded the following year, and their marriage was an empty one, devoid of any great love. Serra saw Jasper as a stepping stone to power, and played on his weak nature to dominate and manipulate him. On his part, Jasper did harbour some small affection for Serra and was prepared to do what she asked of him; he did not have the will to fight her, and as long as she allowed him peace to study then he was content. The birth of a young son provided both Jasper and his father with a great deal of joy, and Jasper made an admirable effort to care for the child; even Serra's cold heart was warmed by the sight of the newborn.

Jasper may have continued this simple life for the rest of his earthly years, had civil war not erupted across the four corners of Westeros. With his brother and father engaged in the war, Jasper was left to run the House under the guidance of his mother. This suited Serra well, and she forcefully pushed her husband to assume the mantle of power, despite his feeble protests. He was entirely unsuited to the position, as he would demonstrate during the Sack of Duskendale. While his father tried to muster a counter-attack to combat Criston Cole's force, Jasper was crippled with fear and retreated to the safety of his study. He watched the slaughter of his father, and raised not a single finger to stop it. It was only when he learned of his brother's death that Jasper finally realised he would never again be allowed to return to his life of comfort; he was reluctantly crowned the new Lord of Duskendale.

With his mother a shadow of her former self, his siblings braying at each other's throats, and his wife whispering dark words in his ear, Jasper's role has not been made easier, and he has struggled to lead effectively thus far.

Name: Eleanor Darklyn
Age: 20
Appearance: http://36.media.tumblr.com/f119ba3c7fadf18cf1832433b11cc02c/tumblr_narsu72h6S1r2344uo1_1280.jpg

Affiliation: House Darklyn

Personality:
Eleanor certainly takes after her mother in terms of personality. A boisterous and brash young maiden, she bows to no man (or woman). She is confident to the point of arrogance, and highly competitive in everything she does. Further, she is prideful in her abilities with a sword, and takes it as a slight to her honour should anyone dare to test her mettle.
Eleanor is also protective of her House and family, and is highly distrustful of anyone she suspects could upset either one. When angered she becomes very aggressive, very quickly, and often her first port of call when things get tough is her sword. She does not mince words, and tends to blurt out what she thinks, without any regard to the consequences. The game of politics is not one that Eleanor plays well. In the presence of her husband-to-be she softens somewhat, however.

Biography:
Born the only daughter and youngest child to Meric and Meredyth, Eleanor did not lack for affection in her youth. Both her mother and father loved her dearly, but unfortunately it seemed that Eleanor had inherited her mother's rebellious streak. No amount of coercion or persuasion could force Eleanor to sit still long enough to learn neeedlework or the correct way to courtesy, and time and time again she would escape the confines of the Fort to play at soldiers with her brothers. Long summer days were spent charging wildly through the forest, laughing, shouting, yelling; the joys of youth were many for Eleanor and her brothers.

As she grew older, and her brothers were squired off to knights, Eleanor attempted to follow them. Her parents denied her however, claiming that it was not her place to ride into battle; she was to remain at home and continue being instructed in the mannerism of a lady. As time passed Eleanor began to resent her parents, who she saw as imprisoning her while her brothers got to ride freely. Her mother tried her best to calm Eleanor's restless spirit, but to no avail. Increasingly she would take long rides into the surrounding forests of Duskendale, taking with her a sword and shield of Steffon's to practice her swordsmanship. Nothing could prevent her from doing what she loved, and the rift between parent and child widened with each passing day.

A month before the outbreak of civil war, and Eleanor and her parents were barely on speaking terms. At that time, Steffon had returned home with one of his oldest friends, Olyvar Celtigar. Eleanor relished the chance to practice sparring with her brother and his friend, and she spent every waking moment in their company. She quickly grew close to Olyvar, and the two spent many a passionate night together. Unfortunately with the outbreak of war, Olyvar was called to fight for his House and the blacks. Before he left he vowed to wed Eleanor on his return. When her parents learned of his betrothal they were outraged, but could do little to intervene until the end of the Dance.

Eleanor waited eagerly for her lover to return, but before he would arrive, tragedy stuck a double blow. Her father fell to the hands of Criston Cole, and later her brother at the hands of a dragon. Eleanor was filled with a vengeful anger and longed to ride out with a sword and shield and cut down as many of the enemy as she could. The only thing that stalled her hand was her desire to see Olyvar again, and hold him in her arms. As the war drew to a close, Olyvar did indeed return, but he returned a broken man. He had been injured in the fighting, and his legs were damaged beyond repair. Never again would he ride a horse, and he was burdened with an eternal limp. Eleanor's love did not waver, however, and she embraced him with undying affection and warmth.

Name: Garlan Darklyn
Age: 21
Appearance: http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2014/169/7/1/maric_by_nathanparkart-d7muxrr.jpg

Affiliation: House Darklyn

Personality:
Garlan is everything his brother's are not. Relaxed and care-free at all times, he rarely allows events around him to influence his light-hearted manner. First to laugh and last to frown, Garlan is rarely serious or stoic. His animated face betrays his razor sharp wit, and he is fully prepared to trade words and well as swords with his opponents.
Garlan is confident, but not to the point of arrogance. He knows his limits, and exactly how far he can push them before he will collapse. Unlike his borthers, Garlan cares little for honour or gallantry, and if he can do something that ensures his survival for another day, then you can be assured he will do it without hesitation; others have accused him of playing dirty, but he prefers to think of it as playing smart. He has little loyalty to anyone but himself, and is a free and independent spirit that refuses to be tied done by anything and anyone for too long. His carelessness has only seemed to increase after the death of Sybelle, and there are hints of cynicism in his behaviors.

Biography:
The oft overlooked and forgotten fourth son, Garlan had to fight for every bit of affection he could as a child. While his brothers natural strength made them destined to become knights, Garlan was not so blessed. He had none of the raw power of his siblings, but instead a great agility. His lithe frame allowed him to move quickly through the Fort's halls a skill which came in useful given the mischief he often involved himself in.

As Garlan grew older he became less concerned with pleasing his parents, whose pride was directed towards his elders, and more concerned with pleasing himself. Often he would pinch food from the Fort kitchens before nabbing a mount from the stables and riding into the nearby woods. Here he spent hours dancing through the trees, climbing amongst the leafy canopy far above. He had no great desires and ambitions, and was content to spend his life ignored but free.

Unfortunately, his father had other ideas. Meric was disheartened when Jasper showed no signs of swordsmanship, and he became convinced that Garlan should fulfil his knightly role instead. While Garlan would have much preferred to learn to play the lute than swing a sword, he did not protest overly against his father. Becoming a knight was a tradition for the Darklyn boys, and Garlan reasoned that if he became a knight quick enough he would be allowed to return to his simple life.

So it was that Garlan undertook training along with Steffon and Edwyn, and while he could never truly match their combat abilities, he had a certain skill with a blade. When it came time for his brothers to be squired off to knights, Garlan was deemed too young and inexperienced. Instead, he was to remain at Duskendale and continue his training. As it happened, this suited Garlan rather well as he recently become infatuated with a barmaid working in the town proper of Duskendale. At every available opportunity he rode into town to visit her, and tune on his lips and a whistle in his step.

Garlan knew his parents would never approve of his courtship of a common bastard girl, and so he kept their relationship a secret from all. In all his fantasies he imagined sailing away with her to Bravo or Yunkai, and ridding himself of all responsibility. Truly he yearned for freedom, and as the days bled into months and weeks, he grew discontented with his future as a knight.
However, circumstance intervened, and with the outbreak of civil war his training was put on hold. With the return of Edwyn to the Fort, and the preparations for war, Garlan was once again free to do as he pleased. Every night he indulged in the bodily pleasures of flesh with Sybelle, and each night he came closer and closer to asking her to sail away with him. Shortly after he reached the age of ten and eight, he finally proposed his plan to her. She was overjoyed, and the two made preparations to leave within the week.

However, suddenly and without warning, their plans were dashed to a million pieces. Ser Criston Cole marched on Duskendale, and in the Sacking, Sybelle was slaughtered. Had Garlan been by her side to protect her, perhaps things would have been different, but he had taken refuge on a ship docked in the harbour during the attack. When he learned of her demise, his world crumbled around him. A void filled the space where once his hopes and dreams had lain, and he began to blame himself for her death. He could not stand to remain in the land which was soaked in her blood, and driven by guilt, he fled Duskendale.

For the next three years, Garlan spent his time wandering where the winds took him. He hired himself out as a sell-sword to keep him in coin, and travelled across Westeros, and as far as Essos. He tried to forget Sybelle, and his family, but always he was plagued by the memories of what had happened. Hearing that the Dance was drawing to a close, he decided to return once more to Duskendale to face his demons; he arrived a week before the crowning of Aegon III.

Name: Ser Edwyn Darklyn
Age: 24
Appearance: http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2011/270/8/5/lord_by_dandzialf-d4b2usa.jpg

Affiliation: House Darklyn

Personality:
Edwyn is the model example of a knight if both his actions and words. Honourable and courageous, he upholds virtues of dignity and respect at all times. Courteous to the extreme, he would never dare to besmirch another's honour, no matter how much they deserved it. Furthermore, Edwyn is dutiful and performs what is expected off him without hesitation. His near unlimited reserves of patience ensure that he rarely grows angry, and despite his fearsome abilities with a blade, he is a gentle and caring man.
In addition, Edwyn is loyal to a fault, and will blindly follow those who have earned is trust to the ends of Westeros if they asked it of him. A devoted and caring husband, he prioritises his duties as protector of his family above all else. Only the Seven could ever come close to the reverence Edwyn holds for his family, as he is a devout follower of the faith. He takes personal offence to any attacks on his House, and is certainly not one to forget a slight.

Biography:
Edwyn was born in the long and dark shadow of his elder brother Steffon. From a young age Edwyn was always expected to live up to the standards set by Steffon, and so for much of his youth he strived to emulate his elder brother. Where Steffon went, Edwyn followed, and the two developed the closest bond out of all the Darklyn siblings. The only person Edwyn admired more than his brother was Ser Rodrick, a noble knight from a bedtime tale his mother often read him. These two role models inspired in Edwyn the desire to become a famed knight, an upholder of the King's justice, and it was in fact Edwyn who first convinced Steffon to embark on the path of knighthood.

It seemed almost natural, given their relationship, that the two brothers would undertake their training together. The two sparred against one another hundreds of times over, honing their skills and tuning their craft. Steffon was always the better of the two, but Edwyn was not deterred. He cared little for rivalry, and his only wish was to become skilled enough to enter the knighthood.

During this time it happened that a tourney was being held in Duskendale, to celebrate the birth of Lord Meric's first and only daughter. The surrounding Lords were invited to attend, and Edwyn and Steffon were to participate in the dueling. As the day of the tourney arrived, Edwyn decided to take a stroll around Duskendale to see the celebrations before his fight later in the day. It was during his walk that he first met his future wife, Alayne Hollard. Edwyn had reached the harbor and was resting near the water's edge when he heard a cry. Turning, he saw a young woman slip beneath the waves, and without thinking he leapt into the blue depths to save her. Struggling, he managed to drag her to safety by the harbor, where her father had arrived, out of breath and rather red. Lord Hollard, for that was her father, thanked Edwyn a thousand times over, and asked him what he would have as reward for his heroics. He was too humble however, and would not accept a single token in return for his efforts; he was enraptured by the beauty of the woman he had just saved.

Edwyn fought well in the tourney that day, and as the eve settled in, he chanced upon Alayne once more. Alayne thanked Edwyn for saving her, and asked if he would do her the courtesy of visiting her again someday. Edwyn accepted, and the two began a courtship, which after several years resulted in marriage and two beautiful children.

During this courtship, Edwyn had completed his time as a squire and acceded to full knighthood. His duties kept him occupied for many months, and he spent only snatches of time with his wife and newborns, who had moved into Fort Dun. It was with a mixture of relief and disappointment then, when Edwyn learned that he would remain in Duskendale during the outbreak of civil war. While Steffon was fighting for his Queen, Edwyn remained steadfast in Duskendale, caring for his wife and preparing the House for war.

All his preparations come to naught however, when the lands of Duskendale were sacked by Ser Criston Cole. Edwyn fought admirably during the battle, but was no match for the superior force of the greens; he was lucky to escape the same fate as his father.

Now, as the Dance draws to a close, Edwyn remains committed to both House and Crown. While he mourns the losses of his House, he understands that these are the sacrifices of war. Never once has his loyalty faltered, and while he may not agree with everything that his brother, Lord Jasper does, he holds his tongue and does his duty as a knight.