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Vixere
CaptainBritton
The air felt... heavy, the young man thought, as he crawled through the underbrush. All around him, the morning fog clung like an oppressive sodden blanket, seeming to choke out any light and warmth the early morning sun sought to bring. Out there, somewhere in the thickets, rivulets, bracken, and other matter of underbrush, slunk the loathsome beasts that had continued to terrorize the Riverlands for decades. Laying on his gut, he notched the heavy barbed bolt into the groove, nestling it firmly against the release mechanism, siting the deadly menace downrange. The beast stood still, nose perked high as it sniffed out some far-off prey, before the oiled clink of metal resounded, followed by the dull thump and snarled tone of a death rattle, then silence. He sighed, exhaling the pent-up breath within, the heated vapor turning to almost a fog in the cool morning air. A small victory, he allowed himself to think, knowing that the dead beast was one of many that continued to haunt the land.
Lord Edmyn Tully broke his mind away from that far flung memory, the moment of reverie replaced with the present. His right hand absently stroked the fur of the beast he’d killed, still soft as the day it had died. The horse below him trotted along the well-maintained road, smoothly making its way on the final leg of a long winding journey to the Grand Birthday Tournament of Lord Robin Arryn. The weather was pleasant, warm yet not oppressive, a thankful lack of humidity that would help alleviate unnecessary perspiration. His clean-shaven face felt a gentle breeze coming off the ocean, a cool caress that brought a content smile. Exhaling softly, he tugged the reins of his horse gently, urging the creature onward with a bit of renewed excitement.
His eyes scanned the numberless banners, both lords large and small, great and mighty, the small and nearly forgotten. Among them were the flowing gold and black of the Greyjoys, the white and blues of the Arryns, the green and brown of the Mudds, the Roses of House Tyrell, the Stag of House Baratheon, and on the banners went. With a tensing of his heels, Lord Edmyn beckoned his horse through wagons, oxen, horses, the throngs of people happily making their way to the ever-growing festivities. Closely followed by his retinue, the Riverlanders made their way further into the settlement, and onwards towards the tournament grounds. Tents and pavilions lined the central trampled dirt road, until Edmyn arrived at an empty area that had been reserved for his retinue.
A perfect spot, near the end, and on the seaward side. Edmyn smiled, before wheeling his horse around once more, turning to head back towards the sea, and dismounted from his horse. His feet impacted the ground lightly, with a small swirl of dust kicking up, before making his way over to look intently at the sea. “It’s been too long since I last lay my eyes upon the endless waters of the Narrow Sea.” Letting out a content sigh, he set about helping his retinue set up their tents and campsite, cooking fires and pits, latrines, tethering lines, a site fit for fifty men and all the gear they could bring to last the duration of the festival. Such actions took the better part of the afternoon, afterwards, Lord Edmyn made his way to the sea, enjoying a refreshing swim to clean the toils of sweat from his body, and to clear his mind for the times to come.
Camp now set, clean fresh clothes upon his back, Edmyn first made his way to the pavilion of his host and first cousin once removed, though often simplified to being uncle due to their age difference. Lord Robin Arryn, a venerable and respectable man, family in the grand scheme of things, though time and territorial disputes had soured their relationships. Hopefully, here and now, these two powerful families could forever bury their animosity and become friends and allies once more. Making his way over to the Arryn campsite, Lord Edmyn made his introductions to the guards, and the steward that was there who was currently overseeing the site. Lord Arryn was not there yet unfortunately, though he would be arriving soon, and he would be informed of Lord Edmyn’s request for an audience and the gifts that Lord Edmyn wished to give to Lord Arryn would be delivered.
“Thank you for your time, kind Ser. I truly appreciate your help, and I look forward to meeting with Lord Arryn when he has arrived and is ready for guests. Send him my warmest regards and wishes, along with this personal gift from my family to his.” Edmyn finished, before handing to the Steward a beautiful and velvety smooth fur blanket, the silken strands glistening brightly in the late afternoon sun, the bold colors of white, brown, gray, and black contrasting to elicit a beautiful sight for all to see. “This blanket was collected from the great wolves that roam the Riverlands, large and fierce. May it keep Lord Arryn warm against the cold and coming winter, and may their strength and ferocity protect him against all those who would dare stand against House Arryn in anger. Seven bless you all, friends. I hope to enjoy a meal and a drink with you all in the company of Lord Robin Arryn.” Satisfied, Lord Edmyn bowed his head respectfully, before turning about face and heading into the greater festival grounds.
Women and man danced and drank, music played loud and boisterously, the very air itself was alive, as Lord Edmyn meandered about the tournament grounds, greeting nobility and small folk alike, partaking in dancing, drinking, eating, and signing all in equal measure, simply enjoying the world for all it had to offer. The light breeze blew through his hair, and caressed his face, while the smells of food, salt, and life whirled all about, exhilarating to say the least. Soon, Lord Edmyn found himself enjoying a kabob, perfectly seared meat and vegetables paired delectably, a smile playing across his face as he listened to one of his knights telling the story of his adventures in the Stepstones, when he spotted a familiar sigil. Laughing aloud, before waving his free arm in the direction of this new face, Lord Edmyn called out in a hearty voice, “SAPPHIRE!!! Mychel Mudd, come hither my friend, join us in drink and food, about time I see another proper Riverlander here. These kabobs are phenomenal.” He chuckled again, smiling brightly at seeing one of his chief vassal’s kin here, a chance to see what Lady Catelyn was up to these days.
Skilled Tactician - By no means the best there ever was, still, Edmyn has attained an adept understanding of war, the flow of armies, supplies, and how terrain and perceptions play into the logistics of war. Furthermore, he is a skilled fighter, having been trained by Ser Axel Tully himself on numerous occasions, and other skilled fighters.
Quick - Edmyn has shown to be a smart man, quickly understanding concepts and studies, and applying them to everyday life. More than most, he had to learn to rule with all due haste after the death of his elder brothers. Lord Edmyn displays a keen ability to be taught something, and then carry out that teaching without needing further help.
Groomed - Always clean shaven, bathed, and clean clothes, Lord Edmyn takes pride in his personal appearance, and the general improvement to his overall health that comes with taking care of ones self.
Attractive - More than money and power, than the titles, Edmyn is considered to be an attractive man, standing six feet and two inches tall. His strong chin, cheeks, face, and perhaps the warmth of his smile, has earned him on more than one occasion the fawning of women.
Stategist - War has been a part of the Riverlands for centuries. Even more so, is the lack of geographic boundaries to protect the Riverlands, something that Edmyn has studied greatly, to learn how best to use these weaknesses to his own strength and benefit. After becoming Lord Paramount, Edmyn spared no expense and time to be educated in the art of war and strategy.
Diligent - None can say Edmyn, once he puts his mind to something, gives up. He sets his goals, and steadily works towards attaining those goals. 
Ambitious - Edmyn desires to set himself above and beyond the previous Lord Paramounts of the Riverlands, he seeks to permanantly cement his name, and his family's name in the history books. Good enough is not in his vocabulary, to Edmyn, best to do it right, or not at all.
Just - The law is the law, however it is not blind nor without heart. Edmyn holds court often to hear of his subjects disputes, complaints, and crimes. The law treats all men equal, no matter their birth, and it is something he has placed great faith in.
Scarred - Some wounds never heal, and the cut Ser Axel recieved on the Stepstones is worn with honor and pride. The man who gave it to him has long since passed, but it serves as a reminder as to Ser Axel's line of work, and his duty to protect the Queen.
Formidable Fighter - The skill with a sword Ser Axel posses is rivaled perhaps by a few others who currently live, but for those who saw him upon the fields of battle during the Stepstones Rebellion, it took six men against him for him to even recieve a wound, and all six of those men lie dead. He chooses to fight from the ground, on his own two feet, rather than atop a horse. Some might think this a weakness, yet to him, it just means his foe has a longer fall to the ground.
Brawny - Ser Axel has spent years of his life devoted to protecting and serving the Iron Throne, his body a weapon in its own right. He is no small man, nor some pushover.
Duelist - A sword and shield is all he needs, and his foes will fall before him like freshly cut wheat. Ser Axel, perhaps, could be counted among those that are considered the greats who have served within the Kingsguard, and worn the white.
Brave - Let no man doubt Ser Axel Tully's bravery, for he would charge a thousand foes if it meant saving the Queen or the Princess.
Stubborn - The last of Ser Axel's notable traits, is his stubbornness. Ever the last to leave, and the first to enter, he rarely if ever gives in, save for a direct order from the Queen, and depending, the Princess as well. Ser Axel has been jokingly referred to as the trout ever jumping up an endless waterfall. 
Attractive - Being of the blood of Old Valyria, Rhaenyra is decidedly beautiful. Her fair features, silver hair, stunning eyes of pale blue-green, define the beauty that is Lady Rhaenyra, who with her regal bearing, cuts a memorable figure for those who lay eyes upon her. Her fair looks are owed to her father, mother, and the old bloodlines of yesteryear. 
Kind - If one thing can ever be said of Lady Rhaenyra, is that she is very kind. Her heart is large, and she cares for those around her with great compassion and love. Being mean or angry is hard for Rhaenyra, and holding onto negativity is something that she has never been able to do well, instead, she looks at the good and positive.
Diligent - Ever the one to always finish a task, Rhaenyra sees anything and everything through to the end. She enjoys the adventure and reward of completing meaningful endeavors that she sets her mind to.
Shy - Those that know her closely will note Lady Rhaenyra's lack of enthusiasm when it come to speaking with others. She much prefers to watch and listen, rather than offer her input. When asked, she will answer, but usually, one must press in order to break Rhaenyra out of her shell.
Trusting - Perhaps a flaw, perhaps a sign of a good and uncorrupted heart. Either way, Rhaenyra is very trusting, within reason, of others at first. More than anything, she trusts her father, Lord Aegon Velaryon implicitly, and sees no reason as to why he would ever lie to her.
Gardener - Lady Rhaenyra enjoys the fresh open air and the warm kiss of the sun. More than that, she is an avid gardener, who enjoys the process of growing flowers and fresh food for herself and her family. The work and effort involved give her a sense of pride and accomplishment, that her little garden is there because of her hard work and diligence.
Family Person - The last of Rhaenyra's defining traits is her importance that she has placed upon family. To her, there is nothing more important than the love and devotion to one's family. They are, at the end of the day, all you have to rely and trust upon. She hopes one do to have her own family, should the God's allow it.
Scarrred - When one chooses to ignore caution and live a more adventurous life, accidents happen, or rather, life happens. Across the left side of her face, from the middle of her nose to slightly below her eye, is a scar from one of her first real battles. Now, the old wound has healed, and seemingly added more beauty to Baela than before. 
Ambitious - For Baela, she is not content to idly wait by for the world to come to her, nor for opportunity to present itself. Rather, she seeks out her own future, charting a course to have her rise higher in the world, and place her name in the annuals of time and history.
Brave - Part of being ambitious and adventurous is being brave. Many a foe expects a woman to cower before them, to beg and plead, not Baela, she happily charges in, sword drawn, a vicious predatory look on her face, and the knowledge that those self-important men, well, their courage is quickly running down the side of their leg. The unknown shouldn't be feared, and for Baela, she respects it, while actively choosing to rush forward into the dark to see what lies within.
Ruthless - While few ever see or know of such actions, Baela is ruthless when it comes to defending her sister and family. Those that dare to insult her sister, well, they are lucky when they wake up from the floor. Baela wants to reach her goals, and will damn near do whatever it takes to achieve them.
Skilled Duelist - From a young age, she showed signs of martial prowess. Aegon, perhaps on a whim of amusement, allowed her to train with his sons, her brothers. The rest, as they say, is history. She fights with two hands, favoring her right with a long sword, while in her left, a short sword or an axe, depending on the situation. Thus far, her foes have all made the same mistake, underestimate her, and they payed with their lives for that foolishness.
Pirate Captain - Much to her father's everlasting annoyance, though he has yet to specifically command her not to be a pirate and smuggler, Baela Velaryon command a modest ocean going vessel called "Sea Snake", which she uses to prey upon the traveling ships of Westeros, stealing their cargo and selling it off to send a message that she remembers what the Queen did to her family.