House Crakehall
Seat: Crakehall, Westerlands
Lord Ralf Crakehall, The Goretusk
Ralf was the first of many quarreling siblings within the Lord family that resided, and ruled, over Crakehall and its lands. The boy was known to have a temper from a young age, beating other children bloody should they test his patience. He always won the fights. Why? He was the heir of Crakehall, and the strongest. Though, when he began training with arms and learn more of the world, his temper had calmed, somewhat. Ralf gained a sense of honour and respect for his kin and for those in battle, oft requesting to hear a story of a mighty warrior. He certainly had the family genes within him. As the teen years came to an end, the Heir had already grown a beard few of his age could compare with. Large he was as well, in both height and width of his shoulders. If there was one thing the man wasn’t, then it was pretty. Quite ugly, in fact.
The heir had been combat-tested several times during his growth. There wasn’t much of war during those ages, but bandits there were plentifull of. The man actually got excited by the news of bandits roaming the land, requiring justice for their crimes. But as his lust for glory grew, so did his thirst for fine wine, and there was no shortage of that.
During the end of his twenties, Ralf and two of his brothers went for a hunt by the north-coast of their lands. A pack of boars had been sighted in the area by a farmer. A delightful meal that’d make, the trio thought as they scoured the woods. There was no boars to find, only screams. The horrid screams of a man in pain and wailing of women came from a road not too far from them. They investigated. A sight and stench of blood welcomed the trio, several dead from cuts and slashes from a blade. With four living standing by the small pile of dead folk. All armed and looking for trouble. Bandits or raiders no doubt. The Boars of Crakehall knew what they needed to do.
Ralf arrived at Crakehall a day later, bloodied from top till toe and was mounted on horse. With two corpses huddled ontop of the horse, just behind where Ralf sat. That wasn’t the issue that made folks gasp as he rode past. It was the four heads that was tied onto the horse. Local bards and small-folk began calling Ralf for “Goretusk” ever since that day. Heartbroken with grief, his mother died not soon after. Ralf’s father, Roderick, abdicted from the Lordship when the sickness he had received from the Gods made him incapable of ruling. Now the old lord laid bed-sick within his tower. While the new lord, Ralf, prepares himself for lordship during a dark time, during The Dance of Dragons.
History:
The Crakehalls originate from Crake the Boar killer, from the Age of Heroes. House Crakehall of Crakehall is one of the primary noble houses from the Westerlands. Their seat, Crakehall, is located along the Ocean Road, at the south of the Westerlands, between the Sunset Sea and a large forest. The Crakehalls are known for their uncommon robustness. They’ve even been compared as the Northerners of the South for their ‘brutish’ looks. Long have the men of Crakehall done battle with the reavers from the Iron Isles. A strong hate for the reavers runs deep within the population of the land, but they also fear the day when the reavers will descend upon their lands in full force. For vengeance after the actions of Ser Aubrey Crakehall, whom shortly claimed kingship to the Iron Islands after defeating King Hagon Hoare. The folk that live on Crakehall lands work upon the trades of fishing, trading and lumber from a large forest in the vicinity. For all recorded history by the Maesters of the Citadel, Crakehall have always been loyal and fierce in their loyalty for House Lannister. Where the Lannisters go, those of Crakehall follows. This goes for their allegiance to the newly coronated king, Aegon ll Targaryan.
Seat: Crakehall, Westerlands
Lord Ralf Crakehall, The Goretusk
Ralf was the first of many quarreling siblings within the Lord family that resided, and ruled, over Crakehall and its lands. The boy was known to have a temper from a young age, beating other children bloody should they test his patience. He always won the fights. Why? He was the heir of Crakehall, and the strongest. Though, when he began training with arms and learn more of the world, his temper had calmed, somewhat. Ralf gained a sense of honour and respect for his kin and for those in battle, oft requesting to hear a story of a mighty warrior. He certainly had the family genes within him. As the teen years came to an end, the Heir had already grown a beard few of his age could compare with. Large he was as well, in both height and width of his shoulders. If there was one thing the man wasn’t, then it was pretty. Quite ugly, in fact.
The heir had been combat-tested several times during his growth. There wasn’t much of war during those ages, but bandits there were plentifull of. The man actually got excited by the news of bandits roaming the land, requiring justice for their crimes. But as his lust for glory grew, so did his thirst for fine wine, and there was no shortage of that.
During the end of his twenties, Ralf and two of his brothers went for a hunt by the north-coast of their lands. A pack of boars had been sighted in the area by a farmer. A delightful meal that’d make, the trio thought as they scoured the woods. There was no boars to find, only screams. The horrid screams of a man in pain and wailing of women came from a road not too far from them. They investigated. A sight and stench of blood welcomed the trio, several dead from cuts and slashes from a blade. With four living standing by the small pile of dead folk. All armed and looking for trouble. Bandits or raiders no doubt. The Boars of Crakehall knew what they needed to do.
Ralf arrived at Crakehall a day later, bloodied from top till toe and was mounted on horse. With two corpses huddled ontop of the horse, just behind where Ralf sat. That wasn’t the issue that made folks gasp as he rode past. It was the four heads that was tied onto the horse. Local bards and small-folk began calling Ralf for “Goretusk” ever since that day. Heartbroken with grief, his mother died not soon after. Ralf’s father, Roderick, abdicted from the Lordship when the sickness he had received from the Gods made him incapable of ruling. Now the old lord laid bed-sick within his tower. While the new lord, Ralf, prepares himself for lordship during a dark time, during The Dance of Dragons.
History:
The Crakehalls originate from Crake the Boar killer, from the Age of Heroes. House Crakehall of Crakehall is one of the primary noble houses from the Westerlands. Their seat, Crakehall, is located along the Ocean Road, at the south of the Westerlands, between the Sunset Sea and a large forest. The Crakehalls are known for their uncommon robustness. They’ve even been compared as the Northerners of the South for their ‘brutish’ looks. Long have the men of Crakehall done battle with the reavers from the Iron Isles. A strong hate for the reavers runs deep within the population of the land, but they also fear the day when the reavers will descend upon their lands in full force. For vengeance after the actions of Ser Aubrey Crakehall, whom shortly claimed kingship to the Iron Islands after defeating King Hagon Hoare. The folk that live on Crakehall lands work upon the trades of fishing, trading and lumber from a large forest in the vicinity. For all recorded history by the Maesters of the Citadel, Crakehall have always been loyal and fierce in their loyalty for House Lannister. Where the Lannisters go, those of Crakehall follows. This goes for their allegiance to the newly coronated king, Aegon ll Targaryan.
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