Supermaxx

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Cowboys And Aliens: Issue #1

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Warpath, Texas

Jaime Reyes woke with a start when he found himself thrust through a wound in reality and falling through the sky. "Ah, hell- not this again!" Visions of white, puffy clouds and a sea of blue sky rushed across his vision as he spun and tumbled through the air uncontrollably. Jaime flailed his arms and legs in a desperate bid to find some sort of object to grab hold to and anchor himself to; a useless gesture, given the fact that he was somewhere in the lower atmosphere.

He had no idea how he'd gotten here. Some...monster had appeared and thrown him into a portal to hell or something- where the air screamed and the sky bled, and nothing made even a shred of sense. Reyes wasn't given even a second to celebrate escaping it now that he was sent plunging toward the earth at record speeds for the second time that week.

'Dios mío, when does it end?'

There wasn't time to lament the never ending chaos. He had to find a way to control his descent. Reyes stopped flailing, instead choosing to thrust all of his arms and legs out like he was about to make a snow angel. After a few moments of observation, he could tell that he was falling backward. 'Gotta spin around.' He realized. Awkwardly he plunged half of his body downward, letting the wind catch him and do the rest of the turn for him. Reyes felt slightly sick as he twisted through the air, contorting his body like he'd seen people do in sky diving videos.

Was now a bad time to admit he hated heights?

"KHAJI!" Jaime shouted over the sound of rushing air. "You wouldn't happen to remember how to fly now, would you?!"

'I do not.'

"Helpful as always!" Reyes fired back. 'Come on, Jaime. Think. You've got a whole alien arsenal to work with. Gotta be something you can do to keep from going splat.'

'I do not understand your panic. We already survived a fall from a similar height; there is no need to worry.' Khaji Da's voice was as dry and disinterested as ever, as if the idea of slamming into the earth at reentry speeds was going to be a pleasant experience to walk away from.

"Wait! Do we still have that engine you had me steal from that jet?!" Reyes's panic subsided slightly, a tingle of hope washing through the tips of his fingers.

'We do. I must remind you, however, that I am unable to assist you in piloting-'

"Yeah, yeah-" Jaime waved it off. He didn't need this useless extraterrestrial's help anyway. "Just deploy 'em! I have an idea!" The Scarab, for it's credit, didn't hesitate, the plates of chitin on Reyes's back parting to allow the weaving tendrils of living metal to form an identical pair of jet engines. He could feel the power humming through them radiate down his spine; it was an odd sensation, but it gave him an equally odd sense of confidence as he continued to plummet toward the earth. There wasn't a whole lot of time for him to doubt himself in the moment.

Slowly he forced his arms down from his side, pushing against the immense pressure of the air blasting up against his spread limbs to point his hands downward. "Right. Here we go." He breathed. With a thought he transformed the material around his fists into a pair of plasma cannons. Each pulsated and twitched like living flesh, seeming to beat with the pace of Jaime's own elevated heart rate as he turned them toward the ground. He had broken through the clouds by now, and he hadn't made any significant progress toward slowing his descent.

"Alright. Alright. Okay." Jaime could see the sand and dirt below. There didn't look to be any bodies of water or trees to aim for- on the bright side, there looked like there was a settlement of some kind not far from his current trajectory.

'What is your plan, Jaime Reyes?' The alien asked, it's curiosity piqued in the worst possible moment.

"Stick around and you'll find out!" The next step in his master plan involved swinging both of his legs down. It was easy enough to accomplish, though keeping his body pointed in a straight line was unsurprisingly difficult given the turbulent forces bashing at him from every angle. "Do I have control of the engines?!" He yelled to the voice inside of his head.

'You do. Simply think it and they will activate, as all our adaptations do.'

Reaching inside of his own mind, Jaime felt for this control that Khaji Da spoke of. Sure enough, it was there; it was like searching for feeling in a hand he'd slept on all night. It was odd, the say to least, to discover what amounted to a fifth and sixth limb attached to his lower back. "I've got it." He confirmed with a slight nod. Now all that was left to do was to concentrate. To focus on his guns and the jets on his back.

He pulled the trigger on all four at the same time. A series of clicks sounded in his ear as each ignited in quick succession, the energy stored within flaring to life. There was enough, longer drone that came with them climbing up toward maximum power. He'd never fired them off with everything they had before- he figured it would be quite the show.

The duel beams of light exploded out from his hands in tandem with the first pulse of his back-mounted rockets, flashing across the sky with such brilliance that one might mistake it for the heavens opening up to reveal the pearly gates. It painted the air a deep, bright blue that bounced across the clouds like the flashes of lightning.

It certainly didn't feel like heaven when all the force of his fall was abruptly thrown back against Jaime's extended hands. There was an immediate jolt backward, his momentum all but halted as the atmosphere collided with his upper body. He let out a harsh series of grunts and curses at the force exerted on his wrists in particular. "JESUS!" He howled.

Reyes nearly panicked again when he felt himself begin to ascend back up into the sky. "Nononono- shit- fuck!" He cut the power output down to a quarter, but even then he could still feel himself starting to head up with increasing rapidity. Jaime repeatedly cut down on the power flowing to the quad-sources of thrust until he felt his momentum halt again. Eventually he was able to work himself into a hover.

He was hovering. In the air. Hundreds of feet above the ground.

Jaime was actually flying.

"YES! YES! Hahahaha- yeah!" He roared out a laugh in victory, all the tension in his body melting away to be replaced by sheer exuberance. Everything that had led up to this- the pain, the exhaustion, the rage and the grief- it was forgotten in that one, quiet moment as Reyes looked out onto the horizon. He could see for miles in every direction. Sure, there wasn't much to see out here- wherever out here was- but it was still the best feeling he had experienced in...well. Maybe ever, the more he thought about it.

Each of his arms shook and trembled as Jaime fought to keep himself stable. Both of the cannons seemed intent on sending him flying off course the moment he dropped his guard, so he was forced to pay them both a good deal of mind even as he simply hovered there for a few, precious minutes.

"Right. Well. Time to land." As much as he would like to stay in the sky forever and forget the problems of the world below, Reyes had a great deal of things he needed to do. Like find out where he was, and what had happened to Brenda and Paco- if they were even in Caulder's dungeon at all, and not just mental projections meant to keep him off balance. Jaime only hoped they were back safe and sound in Washington, probably worried sick about him. 'God, Brenda's gonna punch me in the mouth the next time she sees me.' He thought with a smile. It was probably the first time he'd looked forward to being punched in the teeth.

"Um..." He glanced around, blinking. "How am I going to get down?"

Superboy's Shitty Characters

Cowboys And Aliens: Issue #1

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Warpath, Texas

Jaime Reyes woke with a start when he found himself thrust through a wound in reality and falling through the sky. "Ah, hell- not this again!" Visions of white, puffy clouds and a sea of blue sky rushed across his vision as he spun and tumbled through the air uncontrollably. Jaime flailed his arms and legs in a desperate bid to find some sort of object to grab hold to and anchor himself to; a useless gesture, given the fact that he was somewhere in the lower atmosphere.

He had no idea how he'd gotten here. Some...monster had appeared and thrown him into a portal to hell or something- where the air screamed and the sky bled, and nothing made even a shred of sense. Reyes wasn't given even a second to celebrate escaping it now that he was sent plunging toward the earth at record speeds for the second time that week.

'Dios mío, when does it end?'

There wasn't time to lament the never ending chaos. He had to find a way to control his descent. Reyes stopped flailing, instead choosing to thrust all of his arms and legs out like he was about to make a snow angel. After a few moments of observation, he could tell that he was falling backward. 'Gotta spin around.' He realized. Awkwardly he plunged half of his body downward, letting the wind catch him and do the rest of the turn for him. Reyes felt slightly sick as he twisted through the air, contorting his body like he'd seen people do in sky diving videos.

Was now a bad time to admit he hated heights?

"KHAJI!" Jaime shouted over the sound of rushing air. "You wouldn't happen to remember how to fly now, would you?!"

'I do not.'

"Helpful as always!" Reyes fired back. 'Come on, Jaime. Think. You've got a whole alien arsenal to work with. Gotta be something you can do to keep from going splat.'

'I do not understand your panic. We already survived a fall from a similar height; there is no need to worry.' Khaji Da's voice was as dry and disinterested as ever, as if the idea of slamming into the earth at reentry speeds was going to be a pleasant experience to walk away from.

"Wait! Do we still have that engine you had me steal from that jet?!" Reyes's panic subsided slightly, a tingle of hope washing through the tips of his fingers.

'We do. I must remind you, however, that I am unable to assist you in piloting-'

"Yeah, yeah-" Jaime waved it off. He didn't need this useless extraterrestrial's help anyway. "Just deploy 'em! I have an idea!" The Scarab, for it's credit, didn't hesitate, the plates of chitin on Reyes's back parting to allow the weaving tendrils of living metal to form an identical pair of jet engines. He could feel the power humming through them radiate down his spine; it was an odd sensation, but it gave him an equally odd sense of confidence as he continued to plummet toward the earth. There wasn't a whole lot of time for him to doubt himself in the moment.

Slowly he forced his arms down from his side, pushing against the immense pressure of the air blasting up against his spread limbs to point his hands downward. "Right. Here we go." He breathed. With a thought he transformed the material around his fists into a pair of plasma cannons. Each pulsated and twitched like living flesh, seeming to beat with the pace of Jaime's own elevated heart rate as he turned them toward the ground. He had broken through the clouds by now, and he hadn't made any significant progress toward slowing his descent.

"Alright. Alright. Okay." Jaime could see the sand and dirt below. There didn't look to be any bodies of water or trees to aim for- on the bright side, there looked like there was a settlement of some kind not far from his current trajectory.

'What is your plan, Jaime Reyes?' The alien asked, it's curiosity piqued in the worst possible moment.

"Stick around and you'll find out!" The next step in his master plan involved swinging both of his legs down. It was easy enough to accomplish, though keeping his body pointed in a straight line was unsurprisingly difficult given the turbulent forces bashing at him from every angle. "Do I have control of the engines?!" He yelled to the voice inside of his head.

'You do. Simply think it and they will activate, as all our adaptations do.'

Reaching inside of his own mind, Jaime felt for this control that Khaji Da spoke of. Sure enough, it was there; it was like searching for feeling in a hand he'd slept on all night. It was odd, the say to least, to discover what amounted to a fifth and sixth limb attached to his lower back. "I've got it." He confirmed with a slight nod. Now all that was left to do was to concentrate. To focus on his guns and the jets on his back.

He pulled the trigger on all four at the same time. A series of clicks sounded in his ear as each ignited in quick succession, the energy stored within flaring to life. There was enough, longer drone that came with them climbing up toward maximum power. He'd never fired them off with everything they had before- he figured it would be quite the show.

The duel beams of light exploded out from his hands in tandem with the first pulse of his back-mounted rockets, flashing across the sky with such brilliance that one might mistake it for the heavens opening up to reveal the pearly gates. It painted the air a deep, bright blue that bounced across the clouds like the flashes of lightning.

It certainly didn't feel like heaven when all the force of his fall was abruptly thrown back against Jaime's extended hands. There was an immediate jolt backward, his momentum all but halted as the atmosphere collided with his upper body. He let out a harsh series of grunts and curses at the force exerted on his wrists in particular. "JESUS!" He howled.

Reyes nearly panicked again when he felt himself begin to ascend back up into the sky. "Nononono- shit- fuck!" He cut the power output down to a quarter, but even then he could still feel himself starting to head up with increasing rapidity. Jaime repeatedly cut down on the power flowing to the quad-sources of thrust until he felt his momentum halt again. Eventually he was able to work himself into a hover.

He was hovering. In the air. Hundreds of feet above the ground.

Jaime was actually flying.

"YES! YES! Hahahaha- yeah!" He roared out a laugh in victory, all the tension in his body melting away to be replaced by sheer exuberance. Everything that had led up to this- the pain, the exhaustion, the rage and the grief- it was forgotten in that one, quiet moment as Reyes looked out onto the horizon. He could see for miles in every direction. Sure, there wasn't much to see out here- wherever out here was- but it was still the best feeling he had experienced in...well. Maybe ever, the more he thought about it.

Each of his arms shook and trembled as Jaime fought to keep himself stable. Both of the cannons seemed intent on sending him flying off course the moment he dropped his guard, so he was forced to pay them both a good deal of mind even as he simply hovered there for a few, precious minutes.

"Right. Well. Time to land." As much as he would like to stay in the sky forever and forget the problems of the world below, Reyes had a great deal of things he needed to do. Like find out where he was, and what had happened to Brenda and Paco- if they were even in Caulder's dungeon at all, and not just mental projections meant to keep him off balance. Jaime only hoped they were back safe and sound in Washington, probably worried sick about him. 'God, Brenda's gonna punch me in the mouth the next time she sees me.' He thought with a smile. It was probably the first time he'd looked forward to being punched in the teeth.

"Um..." He glanced around, blinking. "How am I going to get down?"

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

I am honestly hoping that more characters are going to space in season two.

@Star Lord

Superboy's Shitty Characters

Violin-based

Irondust - Expels a small pebble from the end pin of Tiferet’s violin, very quickly. Cast by either adding a small violin flourish to her current song, in which case it takes on an effect based on said song, or cast by playing a single violin note while not playing a song. Extremely small (<1 second) cooldown time. (Duration: N/A)

Kronos - Provides a small buff to both movement speed and skill/spell cast times. Lasts for as long as the song is being played, unless Tiferet plays it in its entirety, in which case it lasts for another 1.5 minutes. Fairly long cooldown time. Irondust is slightly faster, though the difference is such that there’s no noticeable effect. (Duration: 3:14, 4:44 with completion bonus)

Hestia - Makes all allies’ attacks fire-aspected. If the song is played to completion, Tiferet gains one small fireball orbiting her for each ally, which she can fire at enemies as a small fire-aspected attack or keep around her as a shield. Unused orbs dissipate once the battle is over. Middling cooldown time. Irondust is fire-aspected. (Duration: 1:52)

Olympia - Makes all allies’ attacks lightning-aspected. If the song is played to completion, each enemy currently aggroed on Tiferet or a party member takes 100 lightning damage, divided by the number of aggroed enemies. Middling cooldown time. Irondust is lightning-aspected. (Duration: 2:31)

Ineffabilis - Grants allies a universal reduction to damage, starting at 5% and increasing to 10% if the song is completed. Longish cooldown time. Irondust gains the ability to pierce through up to three targets. (Duration: 2:32)

Fallen Angel - Grants Tiferet and allies smoky-looking, intangible wings, allowing them to fly decently quickly while the song is playing. An extremely powerful buff, with an accordingly long cooldown time. Irondust fires three projectiles at once. (Duration: 3:30)

Imprinting - Grants Tiferet and allies information on the weaknesses of their current enemies, including any physical weak points or similar. Information does not go away once the playing stops, but rather is gathered slowly as the song plays. Fairly short cooldown time. Irondust homes in on enemies, going for weak points if any are identified by the spell. (Duration: 2:00)

Parousia - Resurrects one defeated party member. Must be played fully to work properly; if Tiferet is interrupted, the spell fails. Can only be cast once per day. Irondust heals instead of harms, for the same amount of HP. (Duration: 4:38)

Voice-based

Man With The Hex - Grants one target greatly increased strength and speed, while also allowing Tiferet the ability to influence their minds and implant suggestions. Suggestibility scales with how intelligent the target is; an animal could be easily convinced to turn on its allies, but your average wayfarer would be difficult to convince (unless someone else managed to most of it already). Fairly long cooldown time. (Duration: 3:00)

The Visitation of the Ghost - Solely a self-buff, unlike Tiferet’s other spells. Similar to Midnight, the spell grants Tiferet increased strength and partial invisibility, as well as intangibility and a terrifying, ghostly appearance. However, the intangibility lasts for the duration of the song, rather than for a few seconds. Mostly used when solo adventuring to clear out groups of enemies with her sword, or to really freak someone out. (Or both.) Intangibility can be bypassed by magic and enchanted weapons. Extremely long cooldown time, owing to the strength and fairly long duration of the spell. (Duration: 4:24)

Violin and voice-based

Midnight - Grants Tiferet and allies increased strength and the ability to become invisible for several seconds at a time. In addition to only lasting for the song’s duration, Midnight must be cast at night in order to work. Effect scales inversely with the amount of ambient light in the area; total darkness produces the strongest effect. Rather long cooldown time. Irondust becomes invisible. (Duration: 3:42)

Eat You - Transforms an ally of Tiferet’s choice (including herself) into a vampiric monster. They grow fangs, become notably more muscular, and get a rather gaunt, ghoulish cast to their skin and face. They also become afflicted by a terrible bloodlust, and will attack the closest monster to start with, but if none are left, they will begin to turn on their party. They can use their fangs to consume blood from living targets, and will do so instinctually, which heals them for about ⅓ of the damage they inflict. The various buffs and special attacks this spell provides are fairly potent, but are offset by the penalties to intelligence the buffed person takes; they become little more than another monster, albeit one that’s allied until there aren’t any more opponents. In addition, once Tiferet begins casting this spell, she cannot stop; someone would have to rip the violin from her hands, gag her, or otherwise attack her to stop the spell early. Middling cooldown time. (Duration: 3:52)

DK/Decay - A potent damage over time spell, rather than a buff. All targets currently aggroed on Tiferet or a party member begin rotting, suffering heavy damage over time while the song is being played. Much more difficult to play than other songs, due to being difficult to both sing and play. Extremely long cooldown time. Irondust causes the same rotting effect in the target, spreading outwards from the impact point. (Duration: 2:32)

Pariah Online | Season One

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• Tʜᴇ Dᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ •

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A barrage of flaming arrows, explosive bolts and fireballs exploded against Arnaakus like the tide crashing against the side of a cliff. Fire washed over the demon's frozen exterior, sending wave after wave of steam billowing up as the slimes were turned to vapor from the sheer heat. The dozens of flung projectiles made the demon's exposed arm their target, burning through that thick build up of ice with surprising rapidity. He gave an angry, pained howl in response that shook the very foundations of the crypt.

"Cooonsuume!"

With strength only it's titanic arms could afford, the monster took hold of the bent steel and splintered wood of the great doors and tore them off at the hinges. A thunderous crash resounded as the mangled remains hit the floor of the chamber. Arnaakus had to duck down to pass through the vaulted ceiling of the hallway, his eyes burning with an intense desire to feed upon the souls standing before him.

He gripped his claws into a tight ball, six razor-sharp shards stabbing forth from the interior of his arm. Icy growths like the spines on an animal's back covered the top portion of Arnaakus's limb, their menacing, jagged tips glimmering in the light of the dungeoneers' pyre. Each was roughly six feet in height and one and a half in width, their crystal-like forms cracked and fragile looking even at a glance.

The titanic boss flung his arm around, sending the spines scattering across the field of battle- targeting three toward the back row of fighters and three toward the front team. The shards shattered on impact with the ground, creating a barrage of hundreds of tiny shards that were sent soaring in every direction. Too small to cripple, maim or kill, the shrapnel was meant more as a particularly painful distraction than anything else.

Arnaakus's primary method of murder came when he held up one of his arms above his head a few seconds later. He took a number of seconds longer to bring it slamming down against the stone, cracking it in the process. The creature grumbled as he brought his limb sweeping from one end of the hallway to the other with the intent to smash anyone caught in his way up against the wall. Only those closest to it- namely the melee fighters and Tiferet- were in danger of being squashed flat.

Superboy's Shitty Characters

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• Tʜᴇ Dᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ •

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A barrage of flaming arrows, explosive bolts and fireballs exploded against Arnaakus like the tide crashing against the side of a cliff. Fire washed over the demon's frozen exterior, sending wave after wave of steam billowing up as the slimes were turned to vapor from the sheer heat. The dozens of flung projectiles made the demon's exposed arm their target, burning through that thick build up of ice with surprising rapidity. He gave an angry, pained howl in response that shook the very foundations of the crypt.

"Cooonsuume!"

With strength only it's titanic arms could afford, the monster took hold of the bent steel and splintered wood of the great doors and tore them off at the hinges. A thunderous crash resounded as the mangled remains hit the floor of the chamber. Arnaakus had to duck down to pass through the vaulted ceiling of the hallway, his eyes burning with an intense desire to feed upon the souls standing before him.

He gripped his claws into a tight ball, six razor-sharp shards stabbing forth from the interior of his arm. Icy growths like the spines on an animal's back covered the top portion of Arnaakus's limb, their menacing, jagged tips glimmering in the light of the dungeoneers' pyre. Each was roughly six feet in height and one and a half in width, their crystal-like forms cracked and fragile looking even at a glance.

The titanic boss flung his arm around, sending the spines scattering across the field of battle- targeting three toward the back row of fighters and three toward the front team. The shards shattered on impact with the ground, creating a barrage of hundreds of tiny shards that were sent soaring in every direction. Too small to cripple, maim or kill, the shrapnel was meant more as a particularly painful distraction than anything else.

Arnaakus's primary method of murder came when he held up one of his arms above his head a few seconds later. He took a number of seconds longer to bring it slamming down against the stone, cracking it in the process. The creature grumbled as he brought his limb sweeping from one end of the hallway to the other with the intent to smash anyone caught in his way up against the wall. Only those closest to it- namely the melee fighters and Tiferet- were in danger of being squashed flat.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

<Snipped quote by DocTachyon>

Psh. Only a simpleton would use bolded text to signify that the demon inside of a human's body was talking to them via a mental link...
_{Pay no mind to my posts. Nothing to see here.}

@Retired

_{Or mine, coincidentally.}

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

<Snipped quote by Inkarnate>

There was an Iron Man in Afghanistan, and a Tony Stark but iirc he never became active in NYC

@Sep

He did a fly over of New York that got Tony in trouble with the Air Force, didn't he? Think he mentioned it was around the Fourth of July or something.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

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The Blue Beetle stars in...The Runaway: Issue #17

Previous Issue

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Doctor Niles Caulder took a deep, slow breath. He locked his gaze with the unblinking eyes of Reyes's mask, refusing to so much as glance at the weapon pressed against his temple. "It would be much easier to explain if you took that gun out of my face, boy." He spoke evenly, his eyes stalwart and steely, utterly unafraid of the alien being standing over him.

"What? What?!" Jaime felt his blood run hot. 'Disgust' could not adequately explain the churning in his stomach at the sight of the doctor's expression. How could he sit there, a weapon shoved against his head, and not so much as blink? "You think I won't?!" Reyes snarled, the parasite's grip growing tighter around his wrist as he shoved Caulder's head with the muzzle of the cannon. "After everything you've done, you still think- you still think I won't?" He shot a finger back behind him, pointing toward the corpse of Caulder's surgeon. "It wouldn't...it wouldn't be the first time."

Caulder crossed his hands over his lap, his neck craning as he looked up toward Jaime. The sympathy in the old man's eyes was almost enough to drive Reyes over the edge. "You were protecting yourself, were you not? You had no other choice. That does not make you an executioner, boy. It isn't like you."

"You don't know a damn thing about me." Reyes countered.

"Really?" Caulder raised a brow. "I don't? I was in your mind, boy. I know more about yourself than you do. For instance, I know you struggle in school because it bores you. You think your teachers are old and out of touch. I know your friends drag you to the same diner after school everyday. You insist you don't mind, but they know how much you hate the food there; yet you always choose to go with them regardless." Niles couldn't see the boy's face through that lifeless mask, but he could tell he was faltering. His firing arm was unsteady and lowering with each word, and Jaime's breathing had tightened. Caulder was getting to him. "I know your mother makes you do the dishes every night. And I know your father's struggling to make ends meet. And there's a young woman that sits in front of you on the bus- Traci, I believe, that you've been terribly infatuated with-"

"That's enough." Jaime snapped, though the conviction in his voice had faltered. "Why're you telling me all this?"

Caulder sighed, his hand moving up to rest on Reyes's wrist. "Because I know that as much as you hate me, boy, you could never live with yourself if you took my life. Everything that's happened- it's already eating you up inside, isn't it?" Slowly, tentatively, Niles started to guide Jaime's hand away. He didn't force it, allowing Reyes to absorb what he was hearing at his own pace. "I can only imagine what it's been like for you..." His eyes held on Jaime's own, though there were brief, difficult to discern shifts toward something else in the room.

Sleep had not come easily to Reyes since the incident. He'd only managed to pass out from sheer exhaustion once, while he was pulled over on the side of the road in a car he'd stolen from a stranger. Even then, the nightmares had forced him back into reality but a handful of hours later. Jaime felt weak and exhausted, his muscles burning and his mind drinking up the confusion and fear like a thirsty traveler in a desert oasis. The whole while, the only company that he had during his travels was a detached, aggressive voice in his head. After all of that- after all of the trials and tribulations- he had finally come face to face with the man responsible for it. Jaime had been so captivated by the concept of vengeance that he had never slowed down long enough to consider if he even had the will to pull the trigger.

"You said it was an accident." Jaime's arm fell to his side, limp and powerless. The organic weapon shifted back into a normal hand as Reyes took several steps from Caulder's side, returning to the operating table to take a seat on it's bloodied and cold surface. He'd hear the telepath out before he decided what to do. Maybe it would offer him some new perspective on what had happened; maybe it would give Reyes the excuse to go through with the dark fantasy that had consumed him since the moment he saw Caulder's face. "What happened?"

Caulder sighed, his shoulders falling. As much as he'd want to say that he wasn't afraid to die, Niles had never felt his heart race as quickly as it had when Jaime put a gun to his head. Was he afraid? Excited? It was hard to say; the adrenaline certainly didn't help determining how he felt in the moment. But he had swallowed down those feelings to talk Reyes off the edge. It looked like it had worked- for now. "I only wanted to talk to it." He began, his mouth slightly agape as he search for the words. It wasn't a pleasant memory by any means. "LaSalle and I had been working to find and exploit ancient technology since our college days. When we found the artifact in the Smithsonian, we didn't even stop to consider the implications of attempted contact. It matched the energy signature of the first...The Veteris to your Iuvenis-"

"The first?" Jaime interrupted. "There's another one?" That was alarming to hear. After everything that had happened, he wouldn't wish Khaji Da on his worst enemy; on top of that, for all of the power it held, he could only imagine what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands. He wasn't even sure if it was safe in his own.

"Indeed. My colleagues and I spent years tracking it. It seemed to nest primarily in Metropolis, but rumors led us all the way up to Gotham City on one occasion. We chased it as long as we could, documenting it's every move and studying it. When we finally developed the technology, we began to scan the rest of the country for signs of others. We didn't know what to expect, but...This was so much better than anything we could have dreamed of." The corners of Niles's thin lips ran upward slightly. There was a genuine twinkle in the old man's eyes as he explained it.

That smile quickly melted away as he proceeded with the rest of his tale. "You must understand, then, why I was so incredibly eager when we found an inactive Scarab. This creature represented everything I had been chasing since my youth. It was the proof that my research hadn't been for nothing- that I wasn't some..some wacko conspiracy theorist. And after the disaster with the obelisk...I was so eager to make up for my mistake that I ended up creating one far worse than I could have ever imagined." Caulder sighed, a hand moving up to rub the tiredness from his eyes. When he looked up, he cast his gaze over Reyes's shoulder, as if he were looking for something.

"I reached out to Khaji Da telepathically using the language we had deciphered from the obelisk before it was destroyed. I foolishly believed I understood their connection. But the moment I did, it awoke and...well. It struck out. I'm still unsure why, if I'm being honest with you Mr. Reyes." Once more, the doctor's gaze flickered passed Jaime, looking to something beyond their current conversation.

Reyes felt his heart drop into his stomach. "Bullshit!" He pushed himself off of the operating table, taking several steps toward the doctor. Khaji Da had been convinced that foul play was involved. Caulder had outright kidnapped him in an attempt to steal away the suit; why should Jaime believe him now? What incentive did he have to think Niles wasn't just lying to save himself from Jaime's wrath?

"You wanted the Scarab for yourself, and you'd do anything to take it.Including killing those people!" He was done sitting back and listening to Caulder lie to him. He could see the weasel was squirming, desperately trying to find an out that kept him from getting what he deserved. Jaime brought forth his talon, the razor held close to his chest as he approached the doctor. It was time to end this.

"I wouldn't recommend that, Mr. Reyes-" Caulder's warning was cut short when Jaime brought the blade swinging through the air, it's tip passing less than an inch away from his scrawny throat. He jerked backwards in his wheelchair, throwing himself back in a desperate bid to escape a gory death. He wheeled himself as far back as he could until he felt himself smack up against the far wall. "This isn't you, boy. It's- It's the Scarab. Don't let it- WARP!"

But Jaime wasn't listening to reason. Whether or not the anger was his own, he didn't quite care. It burned so hot that he felt nothing but the need to throw himself at his enemy and tear him apart. He had all but dreamt of ending this man- of ending the nightmares- and he had finally had enough of Caulder's attempts to weasel out of what was coming to him. Reyes drew his blade from within, lunging for the man's throat with every intent to-

There was a sound akin to a blister popping through an old microphone. Before the Scarab could plunge his talon into Caulder's heart, a hand had taken him by the arm and thrown his weapon off course. It impaled through the wall, cutting apart tile and drywall in a spray of ceramic and dust. Reyes spun around to see who had appeared to stop him, only to be greeted by a fist to the face.

He barely felt it, all things considered; but Reyes was disorientated enough to stumbled backward, tearing his weapon from the wall. "Who the hell-" Before he could finish, another flurry of blows was sent his way, though this time it appeared his opponent was wielding some sort of piping as a makeshift baton. A metallic clang sounded as each blow connected with the chitin, the living material reverberating loudly with every hit. Jaime was more annoyed than in pain as he lashed out, attempting to slice through whoever was assaulting him.

"-llǝɥ ǝɥʇ oɥʍ" A man draped in darkness stood in front of Reyes, the piece of lead piping in his fist sliced in twain by Jaime's wildly swinging blade. His cloak of stars danced with his every agile movement, ducking and weaving passed Reyes's unsure attempts to skewer him.

Jaime hadn't a clue where this guy had come from or what his deal was, but he was only getting angrier by the second. "I'm not done with you yet." He snarled, taking a quick step forward as he attempted to bat away this new enemy.

"Warp, please escort Mr. Reyes off the premises-"

"No!" Jaime roared, wheeling back around on a dime. He was too close. He'd finally found all the pieces of the puzzle. Finally found himself face to face with Caulder. It was too close for him to simply lose it all now. "You- you were stalling- you played me!" Jaime wanted to leap at Caulder again, but he found a pair of strong arms wrapped about his chest, pinning his arms to his side. "Damn it, no!" He pushed back against Warp's grip, attempting to break his hold so that he could finish what Caulder had started.

"We're far from done, boy. Do not worry about that. But until I find a way to get that monster off of you..." He looked over toward his partner, nodding slightly. "...We will have to part ways."

Jaime threw his shoulders back, snapping Warp's hold like a twig. He threw an arm upward, metal shifting and squirming around it as an organic weapon began to take shape. The shinning barrel of a plasma cannon whirred to life, even as Warp scrambled to put his hands back on Jaime so that he could teleport the boy away before he could cause harm to Doctor Caulder.

The last thing Reyes heard was the thunderous sound of his weapon discharging as he was thrown into a hemorrhage in reality. He began to fall, his vision turning into a sky of swimming, crimson blood. Voices echoed all around him. The sound of carefree laughter mingled with the screams of the tortured and the damned, thundering over the quieter talks of lovers at a park and the hovering whispers of betrayers in a dark alley. A single, low hum undercut the entire cacophony; a beat of two short, one long, two short, two long repeated over and over like the rhythmic sounding of drums.

...

And he fell.

"...What is this place?"

And he fell.

"...What's happening to me?"

And he fell.

"...I- I wanna go home."

Darkness consumed the bleeding sky, devouring it's bright redness and replacing it with a space that was blacker than black. No light touched it. No eyes could perceive what lay within or beyond it. It was like an inky void, quickly chewing it's way through this twisted reality that Jaime found himself falling through.

This place between dimensions where the rules were not the same and where the walls between what was real and what was not were thinner than anywhere else before them. It was an equation without numbers. A story without words. A life without death. It was antithetical to the nature of existence. It was the nonsensical ramblings of a mad, dead god.

Where the black went, the sounds of the living vanished. Only silence followed.

End.

Valar Morghulis: A Game of Thrones Roleplay

Haven't finished all of the character bios yet, but most everything else is done.

House Tully

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F A M I L Y . D U T Y . H O N O R .

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Leadership:

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Edwyn Tully is the Lord Paramount of the Trident and the head of House Tully. He has ruled the Riverlands since his father, Aeron, passed away twelve years ago. His time as lord has been as shaky as one could expect- Riverlords are a quarrelsome, selfish lot, unwilling to bend the knee so easily. Their quiet ambitions and corruption keep the rivers soaked red with the blood of dissenters, unruly smallfolk and rivals alike. Edwyn fights to keep everything under control using sword, coin and wedding band to keep the other Houses in line. It feels like a losing battle, however, as the whispers of rebellion and the vile desires of potential usurpers rise up from every corner of the Riverland.

Prominent Characters:

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Tully Family Tree

Edmyn Tully's Line

Edmyn Tully

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Edmyn Tully

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Title: Lord Paramount of the Trident
Age: 44
Relation to Main Line: Patriarch
Bio:
Edmyn Tully was the favored son of Aeron Tully, and it showed. Where his brother Symon and his sisters were allowed to spend their free time playing in the godswood, Edmyn was either clashing wooden swords with Ser Kedge Grey or studying literature under the newly christened Maester Markas. He was pressed to always do better; even when Edmyn pleaded that he was trying his hardest, his teachers were instructed to push him even further. It was not an easy or enjoyable childhood, but it forged Edmyn like the fires of a dragon's breath. He was made a talented warrior and an even better statesman, though he struggles with the finer workings of diplomacy.

Edmyn's heart holds more sway than his head in most cases, often putting himself in precarious situations that he relies on others to drag him out of. He lacks that certain edge most other lords seem to have that allow them to make callous decision for the betterment of the house or the realm as a whole. He's slow to make sacrifices or to walk on the toes on others, attempting (and often failing) to please all parties possible. The other Lords- Renard Frey and Otho Bracken in particular- see Edmyn as a weak Lord Paramount, often ignoring his commands or working to directly oppose them. It angers Edmyn that he can't seem to keep the other Riverlords in line, choosing to blame their ambition over his own inability to act decisively.

Recently, however, he has been working to fix that. Under the guidance of the more experienced Lord Erner Piper- his father-in-law and partial mentor- Edmyn fights to reform his rule into one even the Freys will grow to respect in time.

Claere Tully

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Claere Tully

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Title: Lady of Riverrun
Age: 40
Relation: Wife of Edmyn
Bio:
Claere Piper first met Edmyn Tully during a Riverlands tourney. Edmyn and his brother were both fighting for the honor of their house when Edmyn came up against Quincy Piper, Claere's older brother and a man with a big mouth and a bigger sword arm. Edmyn won, though he was far bloodier than his opponent in the end. Claere, impressed by his performance, tended to his wounds and spent the remainder of the tourney at his side.

The two continued to meet, each working to convince their parents to allow a marriage between the two of them. Aeron- ever the pragmatist- was difficult to convince. But Claere's father- a romantic at heart- managed to sway him with all of the promises he could muster. Once Edmyn's father was convinced, the two were wed, almost immediately siring a child of their own. Claere took her role as the mother of the next Lord Paramount incredibly seriously, doing her absolute best to assure her son would grow up to be all the man that her husband was.

She has a significant voice in the affairs of House Tully and House Piper, offering 'advice' to both her husband and even on occasion her own father if the situation is more socially geared than either Lord is used to. Claere has mastered the art of attending to guests at Riverrun, commanding the force of servants and attendants with a brutal sort of efficiency. Many can attest to the grandiose nature of Tully weddings and the hospitality of the staff.

Robin Tully

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Robin Tully

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Title: Heir of the Trident
Age: 20
Relation:Firstborn Son of Edmyn
Bio:
As heir of Lord Paramount, many of the same expectations pressed onto Robin's father have fallen onto his son's shoulders. He spends the bulk of his time crossing swords with the Master-at-Arms and the Captain of the Guard, sharpening his skills in the hopes of becoming the finest swordsman Riverrun had ever seen. He's far off from his goal, but Robin shows more promise than most other members of his house. He takes well to matters of war, including the arts of riding and jousting.

He is far less adept at matters of the mind and the state. Robin's studies bore him, and he has little interest in reading anything that isn't a romanticized tale of chivalry and heroism. The art of finessing a conversation falls on deaf ears no matter how many times the Maester attempts to teach Robin, and his ability to lead can be described as 'lacking' at best and 'a dishonor on his house' at worst.

Being heir of the Lord Paramount might have its perks, but Robin finds the pressure and exceptions to be...exhausting. He enjoys the wealth and the women but finds the lectures and tight clothes choking. If he had his way, he'd be gallivanting around the Riverlands as a Hedge Knight, like the old stories his mother used to read to him. Leadership bores him, and he knows that he isn't cut of the same cloth that his father is. Still, Robin knows that there's no fighting destiny, so he tries his best to stay the path and not disappoint the people he cares about the most.

He spent much of his youth fighting in tourneys across the seven kingdoms alongside his friends and companions Ronald Rivers and Sebastion Baratheon, even riding alongside king Galladon himself at times. The foursome were of one mind in many ways, differing rarely in their views of leadership and chivalry; the only oddity was the bastard boy, who must've had it in his head that he was king, and not Galladon, given how he spoke so passionately of Galladon's responsibility to the kingdom. Robin was far from the best warrior of the bunch, finding himself outmatched often by the far more gifted trio, but on occasion, the Seven would grant him a victory or two to feed his easily bruised ego.

Curtas Tully

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Curtas Tully

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Title: N/A
Age: 17
Relation:Twins with Helenys, Second Son of Edmyn
Bio:
Curtas is the polar opposite of his older brother in almost every way. Whereas Robin seeks the thrills of combat and disdains the whims of the state, Curtas thrives in the courts of lords. He took to his studies like a fish takes to water, diving head first into books on mathematics and language even as a mere boy. Even as he grew, Curtas found himself more at home in Riverrun's library or in its court than in the courtyard with the other boys. Swords felt awkward and heavy in his hand; but a pen was far simpler to wield, he found.

The Tully kids used to enjoy playing at being lords and ladies in the godswood whenever they could shirk off their other duties. Celia and Helenys pretended to be ladies in waiting, while Robin always wished to be the bravest and strongest of Westeros's knights. Oliver fancied himself a better huntsman than any Northerner, and Cynthea- the odd one of the bunch- always insisted on being something queer like a witch or a dragon. Curtas, though? Curtas would never be satisfied unless they let him be king.

It was a desire that only grew stronger in his heart as he left the fake thronerooms and great halls of his imagination and stepped into those of House Piper and House Darry. Curtas was never more excited than when Edmyn first brought him to meet Lord Piper, or when he traded words with the daughter of Lord Bracken. It was his first night escorting the rest of the family to such a feast, but it was all the proof Curtas needed: he knew where he belonged. He wasn't like his brothers or even his father. He was no swordsman. He was no 'man of chivalry.'

Curtas learned how to lie- how to twist the truth to his advantage. He learned when to play to another man's ego and when to knock it down. He learned the intricacies of diplomacy and the art of manipulation that so many other men had used to take advantage of his father in the past. He began to write and orate in his free time, even fancying himself something of a poet when the muse struck him. Curtas fully believes himself the best candidate to take his father's title; he's certainly a better option than his older brother. Curtas would never admit how jealous he is of Robin. The envy festers deep in his heart, taking root with each passing day that Curtas feels his skills go unutilized.

His resentment wasn't saved for his older brother alone, however; Sebastion Baratheon, a close friend of his brother's, seemed to think he could 'fix' whatever part of Curtas was broken. His cure was always some new, escalatingly depravity that would sully Curtas's honor. He always had some new drink or some new whore to offer the boy, as if debasing himself would somehow help Curtas overcome the indignity of living in the shadow of his idiot father. It only worked to foster further resentment in the boy's heart.

Oliver Tully

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Oliver Tully

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Title: N/A
Age: 15
Relation: Third Son of Edmyn
Bio: Oliver took to the godswood better than any of his siblings or cousins. He liked to spend his days climbing its limbs and watching the squirrels forage for food as a boy. For years his best friend in the world was the gardener that would answer any and all of his questions about the woods, the animals and everything else that inhabited it. When he had grown old enough to go out on his own, Oliver liked to ride out passed Riverrun and camp in the wilds. He would try to stay out as long as he could every time, hoping to break whatever record he had set the previous day. It started at mere hours, but by the time he was thirteen, Oliver had learned how to survive on his own for three days straight. His mother had scolded him harshly when the guards eventually found out where he had gone to and dragged him back to Riverrun, locking him in his room for two and a half weeks.

His interest grew with age as he began to turn away from his usual studies, spending more time with the lowborn woodsmen on some days than he did with his own family. His mother looked down on Oliver's behavior, but Edmyn shrugged it off; so long as Oliver continued to study, he was fine with his son's more...eccentric friends. Oliver has grown especially fond of hunting, developing skills in archery and riding above that of even Robin. The two go out hunting together at times, bringing along Cynthea whenever they can tear her away from mother and the Septa. Oliver considers those two his closest friends, even above the castle hunters that taught him most of what he loves.

Friendly and outgoing, Oliver takes to the peasants and commoners the best out of his siblings, though he struggles to keep his tongue around other nobility. He sees people like his brother Curtas as horribly arrogant and narcissistic types; they care more about their fancy clothes and fancy talk than about taking care of the people they rule over. Oliver's glad his father doesn't force him to behave as 'properly' as he does Robin and the girls; his position as youngest allows him the greatest degree of autonomy.

Celia Tully

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Celia Tully

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Title: N/A
Age: 18
Relation: Eldest Daughter of Edmyn, Wife of Sebastion Baratheon
Bio:
Celia never wanted to be anything more or less than an exact, carbon copy of her mother. As a little girl she demanded to be dressed in the same clothes, have her hair braided in the same manner, and to be taught how to do all of the things Claere could do. She would follow her mother around to everything, quietly absorbing her mannerisms, speech and actions. She was more than simple role model. Claere was almost an outright obsession.

Thankfully Celia managed to mostly grow out of it by the time she hit her teenage years, though she would never stop seeking her mother out for advice when a particularly difficult problem reared its head. She found herself spending a great deal of her time with Curtas and Helenys. They were the three most interested in the dealings of noblemen and noblewomen, taking to the courts of the other houses to call on potential suitors. Feasts and tourneys were as common in the Riverlands as rain. Celia enjoyed it, for the most part. The pomp and socializing was a good deal of fun, though she occasionally found the more...underhanded workings of it all distasteful. She preferred charming boys and apple pie to backroom deals and sly whispers, though her mother assured her that Celia could not have one without the other.

Her life took a turn when she was married off to Sebastion Baratheon and moved from Riverrun down to Storm's End, though she didn't spend much time in its high walls; her husband's near-obsession with tourneys and competition meant that they spent nearly as much time traveling as they did at home. It was an enjoyable life, but it couldn't last, for Celia was discovered to be with child. She returned to Storm's End, her husband called off to war in Essos as she prepared for the child that grew in her womb.

Helenys Tully

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Helenys Tully

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Title: N/A
Age: 17
Relation: Twins with Curtas, Daughter of Edmyn, Wife of Lucan Darry
Bio:
Helenys is the fiercest of Claere's daughters by a wide margin, taking to the dagger and a sharp wit far better than either Celia or Cynthea could ever hope to. Even as a child she was something of a trickster, quick to play a joke and pass it off as the fault of one of her other siblings. She was quick on her feet in more ways than one, practically running circles around the castle's uneducated servants and playing them for fools to entertain herself. Her troublemaking ways were a headache the rest of her family wouldn't put up with as she got older, forcing Helenys to grow and change how she approached the world and those around her.

She evolved her tricks to be more subtle and profitable the older she got, gambling with weighted dice and learning how best to get others to do her bidding. She started out mostly harmless in how she used her craft, though with each success she grew bolder and played riskier games. It all came to a head when she attempted to bed the son of Lord Mootoon in order to relieve him of his coin purse. She was caught, of course, and the drama that followed nearly split the house in two. It did, however, bring her particular skill set to the attention of her cousin- and Riverrun's steward- Evin Wode.

He was quick to put her skills to work, employing the daughter of his lord as a spy. She would keep her ears open as she danced about the courts with Curtas and Celia, reporting back what gossip she heard to Evin. It helped alleviate a good deal of the boredom she suffered when at court; it was quite fun learning how to turn people's tongues against themselves. Once her skills were finely honed, the steward went to work convincing Lord Edmyn to marry her to the son of Lord Darry, one Lucan Darry, to secure an alliance between their two historically divided houses. Her real purpose there, however, was to gather what information she could within Darry and send it back to Evin in coded letters.

Cynthea Tully

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Cynthea Tully

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Title: N/A
Age: 16
Relation: Daughter of Edmyn
Bio:
Cynthea Tully is the redheaded stepchild of the family. Much like her brother Oliver she was positively obsessed with Riverrun's godswood as a child, though not for the same reasons he was. Where Oliver chased the squirrels and wondered at the plants and trees, Cynthea was captivated by the heart tree that lay in its center. There was something about that creepy, frowning face carved into that bone white bark that she couldn't get out of her head. She questioned her Septa about the faith of the old gods often, much to the old woman's chagrin, and Cyn often found herself fantasizing about such frivolous things as dragon, magic, and skinchangers. She'd often ask her Maester about the higher mysteries, though he would rarely indulge such questions- he would always try to convince the Tully girl that magic had died long ago, but she would refuse to listen without fail.

As she grew she would often spend her days with Oliver wandering the woods, proclaiming proudly that she was preparing for her journey to meet the wild men beyond the wall even as she grew too exhausted to spend a full day out in the forest. She liked to believe that some of her dreams were a work of prophesy, though when pressed, Cynthea admitted she had no idea what any of it could possibly mean. Her family did their best to push her away from such nonsense, but even as a grown woman she continues to show a fascination with the strange and impossible- she's only gotten better at hiding it.

Cynthea's 'visions' offered her a glimpse at her future husband: Ronald, the bastard son of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Seeing him but once in her dreams was enough to convince Cynthea that she and the boy that had warded with her uncle since he was eight were meant to be together. She became so utterly, inescapably enthralled that she did little more but follow at his heel like a lost pup until the day he left Riverrun for greater things. Even when he had gone away to King's Landing, Cynthea refused to move on to other suitors, fighting her mother tooth and nail to stay unwed until the day Ronald returned for her.

Her unruly behavior and odd beliefs have made Cynthea a less than desirable wife, pushing away potential suitors that might come looking for the hand of the Lord Paramount's daughter. She shows little care toward the responsibility she has toward her family, her house and her realm, choosing to remain in her childish fantasies no matter how they push or press her. Her father has received no shortage of criticism for allowing her to indulge in such things, but Edmyn has thus far refused to confront her about it, proving once more his weakness as a leader.

Symon Tully's Line

Symon Tully

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Symon Tully

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Title: Ser
Age: 42
Relation: Brother to Edmyn, Landed Knight
Bio:
Much like his brother, the Lord Paramount, Symon was raised to be a chivalrous and dutiful man that put family, justice, and honor above all else. The two were practically inseparable from the day Symon was born. Their youth was spent growing and learning in tandem, each jockeying to prove he was the better at whatever task had been presented to them. Symon proved himself the better with a sword, but Edymn was always the swifter runner and rider. Their competition even extended into dotting on the same daughter of Lord Piper. Symon lost that fight when his brother unseated him in a jousting match. Humiliated by his defeat, Symon left the tournament altogether, riding out onto the open road where he just so happened to pass by the procession of House Mallister. It was that chance meeting that brought him and Salna together.

Symon, as he grew older, went on to be introduced to Ser Kagan Chambers by his father. Kagan was a brutally efficient warrior that had gained no small degree of infamy for his work in removing the blight of rowdy, rebellious peasants a few decades earlier. He was to be Symon's new teacher, replacing the man that had trained both him and Edmyn before. Chambers's attitude did not match his reputation. Though he pushed hard to help Symon improve, Kagan offered encouragement rather than discipline. Symon used that training to hone his craft until his skill far eclipsed that of his brother. He went on to be knighted, joining the ranks of the Bannermen of House Tully.

Something changed in Symon. Perhaps it was something instilled within him during his time with Chambers, or perhaps it had always been nestled deep within the darkness of his heart; when he looked at his brother, sitting on his throne and failing to earn it, Symon felt nothing but rage and indignation at being passed over. Despite all of his strength and all he had achieved, he was still seen as lesser than his brother because he was born second. Symon began to push himself harder than should've been possible. He spent every waking hour challenging anyone who could hold a sword or couch a lance to fight him. Through grit and vainglory, he beat each and every man who stood before him into submission, mastering the art of most brutal combat. No knight nor lord in the Riverlands could hope to best him. Anyone that did manage to outdo Symon was challenged again and again and again until he improved enough to overcome them. He took those skills and put them to use on the battlefield, seeking out bandits and belligerents to put to the sword in a fit of terrifying fury. For his exploits in service of the region, he was given a small holdfast not far from Riverrun to call his own. There he had his sons, Coren and Ethon.

That was when the boy arrived. Tytos's little bastard boy from the Crownlands, sent to Riverrun to learn under it's greatest knight. It took a degree of arm-twisting from his brother, but Symon eventually agreed to take young Ronald as his squire. Using many of the techniques Chambers had used to train him when he was a boy, Symon began the slow, painful process of teaching an eight-year-old how to be a knight. Though cold to him at first, Ronny managed to win Symon over through his determination and plucky charm; in some ways, Ronald was more like Symon's first son than Coren.

Salna Tully

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Salna Tully

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Title: Lady
Age: 43
Relation: Wife of Symon, Sister of Petyr
Bio: Salna Tully is a force to be reckoned with in the Riverlands, holding a surprising degree of influence in both House Mallister and House Tully. Though she holds no official office and is the wife of a mere knight, Salna's reputation for an unshakable resolve and a striking mind for detail give her a seat at most tables. She's never been known to forget anything, no matter how seemingly trivial or small. Knowledge is rarely enough to make one great, however; Salna's ability to utilize said knowledge is what makes so formidable a matriarch. Some even whisper that she has more pull on her younger brother, the Lord of House Mallister, than anyone else in the Riverlands.

Despite all of this, she is far from infallible. Salna finds her weakness in her cold and detached nature. She struggles to relate to the rest of her family, finding their devotion to blood almost...bizzare. Her children and her marriage both suffer because of this. Salna's sons and daughter scarcely receive any love or warmth from their mother; if there is any to find, it's only when Salna compliments them on their accomplishments, and even that is quite rare. Her husband, Symon, grows increasingly frustrated with her inability to relate to his struggles.

Coren Tully

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Corren Tully

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Title: Ser
Age: 21
Relation: Son of Symon and Knight of House Tully
Bio: Coren was just a boy when Ronald Rivers arrived and stole away Coren's father from him. It was a gradual thing. At first, their dynamic had barely changed; Ronald was little more than an oddity at the dinner table and a new subject for Symon to rant about in private. But as days dragged on into months and then years, the bastard began to take up more and more of Symon's time, leaving less of it for Coren and his younger siblings. In his desperation, Coren began to act out in order to draw his father's ire- even anger was better than simple apathy.

It wasn't until Ronald had been knighted and it was Coren's time to begin squiring underneath Symon that their relationship saw any positive progress. Coren, as hot-blooded and bold as his father, had no qualms with explaining his frustration to his father, letting Symon know that he felt neglected and shirked. Realizing his error, Symon attempted to rectify it- and in his earnest desire to reconnect with his eldest son shoved his other two children even further from his mind.

After years of feeling left behind, Coren was finally allowed to spend time with his father. He was eager to prove himself 'worthy' of that attention, throwing himself so fully into his training that he gave no time to anything else. Symon's unmatched abilities as a knight were impossible to live up to, but nonetheless, Coren fought tooth and nail to keep from disappointing Symon. His dedication- much like Ronald's- impressed Symon.

After knighting his firstborn, however, Symon once more had to shift his focus to his second in Ethon. This infuriated Coren; he had tied his identity so tightly around the adoration of his father that he felt nothing but a white-hot rage whenever he saw Symon training Ethon rather than him. So Coren, in his anger, set out to ensure that Ethon could not 'steal' their father's attention away from him...

Ethon Tully

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Ethon Tully

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Title: Squire, 'The River Phoenix'
Age: 17
Relation: Son and Squire to Symon Tully
Bio: Ethon was never as bold as his older brother, so when the time came that their father began to obsess over Coren rather than Ronald, Ethon didn't have it in him to object as Coren once had. So Ethon sat, silent and sullen, with a mother that cared little for him and a father that seemed incapable of loving more than one child at once. He spent his youth living in Coren's shadow, his disgust for his family festering like a tumor that grew with every passing day of being overlooked. By the time it was his turn to squire underneath Symon, Ethon was already so far gone that he didn't wish to spend a single second in Symon's presence. But he didn't have the spine to object; so he swallowed his indignation and pretended like it was an honor to finally be treated like he was actually Symon's child for once in his life.

When the day came that Coren received his title and Ethon's reluctant squireship began, Coren was already beginning to formulate his plot for how he might earn back the attention of their father. He schemed in the background, watching Ethon's progress as a squire with no small degree of anger. Coren knew Ethon better than the younger boy thought. Coren had been watching his brother for years, and he knew the disdain that Ethon held for how Symon treated them. For a long time, Coren had agreed with how he felt; yet, now that Coren had tasted of Symon's approval, he wasn't willing to let it slip away. Ethon's hate was not mitigated by his squiring under their father. He was squandering the time they spent together, brooding like he was a Blackwood and not the student of the Riverland's greatest warrior. It infuriated Coren, and he refused to watch Symon sully his reputation by giving such a worthless excuse for a son this much attention.

So Coren set the trap and waited for his meeker brother to step right into it.

The only member of the family that Ethon had any seemingly normal relationship with was his younger sister, Lyn. The two of them had been left to their own devices as children, never given anything more than an occasional glance by their parents. They'd often set out into the fields around the holdfast to play together as children. Even when they grew older, they would still retreat away from those cold halls to vent their frustrations to one another. It was an innocent thing, and everyone around the keep knew it.

Until Coren decided it wasn't.

He ambushed Ethon and Lyn on the banks of the Red Fork with a group of 'witnesses'; little more than thuggish friends that would go along with the lie he had conceived of. Coren accused them of incest and ordered Ethon to surrender his sword and be brought before their father to be stripped of his squireship. Ethon, shocked and angry, vehemently recanted the accusation. Coren pressed the issues, but Ethon refused to budge, so Coren threw him into the river.

Ethon rose up out of the Red Fork several times, only to be knocked back down into its muddy waters again and again and again. Lyn, unable to watch the abuse any longer, pleaded with Ethon to draw his weapon and defend himself. He did, and Coren was eager to meet him, the two brothers coming to blows. Their fight brought them down the banks of the river and into its shallow waters, where Coren proved his superiority with frightening ease. He beat Ethon's face with the hilt of his blade, ending the fight with a long, ugly slash that ran down Ethon's face. He earned his title of 'River Phoenix' that day; a humiliating reminder of his weakness and the stain that accusation put on his family's honor.

Lyn Tully

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Lyn Tully

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Title: N/A
Age: 14
Relation: Daughter of Symon Tully, promised to Horus Wode
Bio: Lyn was caught in the middle of a fierce and vicious fight between her brothers and found herself and her reputation both literally and figuratively dragged through the mud for it. Coren used her friendship with Ethon as a weapon against him, taking them both before their father with cries of incest and indignity upon his lips. Of course he had his gang of thuggish friends to take his side. Lyn attempted to plead her case, but Symon knew so little about her that when the time came he knew not if he could trust her words. Symon, erring on the side of caution, decided to put both on house arrest while he looked in on the matter; he forbade anyone of speaking of these accusations, on pain of meeting the edge of his sword.

It wasn't difficult for Lyn to assume her father would side with his favored son over his two neglected children. She tried to convince her mother that she'd never done anything with Ethon, but Salna was aloof from the situation; she wished to stay 'objective,' and cared only about how they might save the reputation of their house while still seeing justice done in some sense of the word. She cared little for how the outcome affected her daughter personally. Lyn shouldn't have been surprised by how she responded, but it still hurt her deeply.

With no one else to turn to and desperate to see the madness end, Lyn took matters into her own hands. She slipped away from the holdfast in the dead of knight, stealing a horse from the stable and making for Riverrun where she fell into the arms of the her cousin, Robin. She told him all of what had happened. Robin, noble of heart and seeing a chance to prove his chivalry, took her to his father and acted as her advocate. Edmyn wasted little time in confronting his younger brother directly, using his authority as the Lord Paramount to squash the entire debacle.

Of course the rumors still persist even to this day; those disquieted voices of other River Lords whisper of how Edmyn hides incest within his own house only serve to further the divide between House Tully and it's vassals.

Allies of House Tully

Kagan Chambers

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Kagan Chambers

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Title: Ser
Age: 51
Relation: Master-At-Arms at Riverrun
Bio:
Ser Kagan Chambers is the the old war hound of House Tully, having served the line of the Lord Paramount since he was just fifteen years old. House Chambers's power had waned over the years, steadily declining in prestige as it's lord took more to whoring and drinking than leading his holdfast. Kagan is the second son of the latest lord.

As a boy, he first came into contact with the Tullys when he was taken to Riverrun by his father and offered as a squire to Ser Kedge Grey, an honorable knight under the banner of House Tully of some renown. Kagan wasn't all too thrilled to work under Grey, finding his methods to be cruel and unmerciful. He was often tasked with menial labor that most serfs would groan at. It was back-breaking, unappreciated work, but he wasn't ever given the option to quit or complain. He had to stomach that same sort of treatment for nearly eight years when he was finally granted knighthood and allowed to operate with independence for the first time.

Kagan earned his stripes bloodying his hands against peasant rebellions along the Trident. It was dark, stomach-churning work, but Lord Aeron Tully- the Lord Paramount at the time- refused to approach the uprisings with anything less than the edge of the sword. Though Chambers had never been a true serf, he found himself identifying more with the lower men than the supposed nobles that he was meant to call his peers. He only grew more disillusioned with the powers-that-be as time went on, though he never voiced his dissent to anyone for fear of repercussions.

His opinions changed when he was first introduced to Edmyn. The boy was little like his father: where Aeron was cold and unbending, Edmyn was friendly and accommodating. He joked and mingled with the guardsmen and servants as much as he did with his blue blood family. He seemed to hold a similar disdain for the overly cruel Ser Grey as Kagan did. The two became quick friends, only growing closer as the years went on and Edmyn grew into his post as Lord Paramount of the Trident. Edmyn had no other choice than Chambers when it came time to replace Grey as Master-at-Arms.

Chambers has served the family faithfully since then, though the spite of his youth has a tendency to rear it's head whenever the more arrogant lords and noble folk ride into Riverrun. He has similarly warm relationships with the young men of House Tully and many of it's other sworn knights as he had with Edmyn. Kagan has something of a reputation for taking on squires from lower positions in society than most would find acceptable. A number of nasty rumors abound about the master because of this sort of charity, some of them striking closer to his heart than others.

Markas

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Markas

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Title: Maester
Age: 64
Relation: Maester at Riverrun
Bio: Markas has been the Maester at Riverrun since Lord Edmyn was but a boy. He's an intelligent man, eager to teach and even more eager to serve his liege. He can be a bit...out of touch in his old age, seemingly stuck in the world of thirty years ago and unable to move on; Markas has a habit of forgetting his place and speaking to Lord Tully like Edmyn is still one of his pupils and not the Lord Paramount of the Trident. But Markas is a well meaning, kind and patient man, so his more odd behavior is easily forgotten.

Evin Wode

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Evin Wode

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Title: Steward
Age: 24
Relation: Nephew to Edmyn Tully, Steward of Riverrun
Bio: The cunning mind that keeps all of the Riverlands from falling apart at the seams. He is Edmyn Tully's primary advisor on all matters of state. It's almost a fact that when Evin Wode speaks, his lord will act on it before anyone else has a chance to so much as argue. If Evin was a man of lesser integrity, he has no doubt that he could abuse Edmyn's trust in whatever ways he sees fit. But the steward of Riverrun was raised to be a better man than that, so he acts to the benefit of his master on most occasions.

'Overworked' is an understated way of describing Evin on his best day. He does practically everything around Riverrun, acting as statesman, diplomat, treasurer and spymaster all in one. Evin isn't known for trusting anyone to do anything as well as he could, so he refuses to deligate even the most meager of tasks; this often leaves him exhausted, ragged and perpetually irritated whenever anything goes even slightly wrong.

Saben Tower

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Saben Tower

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Title: Ser
Age: 35
Relation: Knight of Tully, Captain of the Guard at Riverrun
Bio: Saban Tower's wife died in childbirth when he was only eighteen years old, leaving him alone with a daughter that he had no idea how to properly raise. He sought out the assistance of the former Captain of the Guard at Riverrun, all but begging the man to let him work in Riverrun so that he might give his child a proper bed. The captain took pity on Saban and brought him into the fold. Initially, he was only meant to be a mere man-at-arms, but he showed such a devotion to the work and a surprising talent that the captain decided to take him on as a squire. In only two years Saban earned his knighthood and only fifteen years after that Tower had proven himself a worthy replacement of his mentor, becoming Riverrrun's captain of the guard at thirty-five years old.

Sworn Houses:

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Major Houses:

• House Bracken

  Otho Bracken

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  Otho Bracken

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord of Bracken
  Age: 40
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: A bitter man that believes the current Lord Paramount is weak and corrupt. He works to undermine Edmyn's authority at every turn, acting as a constant antagonist to House Tully's efforts to unite the Riverlands. Otho supports Ronard Frey in his whispers of rebellion.
• House Darry

  Jasper Darry

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  Jasper Darry

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord of Darry
  Age: 37
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: A reluctant ally to the Tully's due to the marriage they've arranged. Jasper is weary of the Freys and Brackens, frightened of their brutality. He seeks to consolidate his position within the Riverlands and shore up his defenses, sensing that civil war could very well be on the horizon.
• House Frey

  Ronard Frey

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  Ronard Frey

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord of Frey
  Age: 34
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: House Frey fell into ruin seventy years ago when Walder, the patriarch at the time, died. His children and relatives squabbled, fought and murdered one another, each vying to take the throne; others foolishly believed that they could dispose House Tully and become the ruling House. After the war ended and Stevron of all people came out the survivor- entirely do to the efforts of Edmure Tully- Frey lost all semblence of prestige it might've once held. It hasn't recovered since, and there's been talk among the rabble that perhaps the Freys are no longer worthy of controlling the Twins. Indignation fuels Ronard as he seeks to make reperations for all slights, both real and perceived; he works to gather support so that he might tear down the Tully's and finally repair the honor of his family name through cruelty and a merciless ambition.
• House Mallister

  Petyr Mallister

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  Petyr Mallister

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord
  Age: 51
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: Petyr Mallister is seen as a weak lord, controlled by House Tully through his elder sister. He serves at the beck and call of the Lord Paramount, rarely ever stepping out of line even when the requests become unreasonable. There are some among his vassals that seek to dispose of him, but Evin Wode's network of spies and cutthroats has managed to silence most dissenters the moment they speak out.
• House Mootoon

  Tylan Mootoon

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  Tylan Mootoon

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord
  Age: 48
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: A cautious man that isn't quick to make even the simpliest of decisions, Tylan does not act until he is sure that he will succeed. Through his wisdom and caution, House Mooton has grown strong both financially and militarily, commanding a surprising number of knights due to the wealth their trade has earned them. He has only committed a small number of them to the War in Essos, however, leaving the majority behind to defend his assets while he rides off to seek glory against the Targaryens.
• House Piper

  Erner Piper

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  Erner Piper

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord
  Age: 64
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio:A close friend and mentor to Edmyn Tully, he's one of the Lord Paramount's staunchest supporters, Erner has promised to keep at his son-in-law's back no matter the circumstance. He's a respected man throughout the Riverlands and even beyond, known for his even temperment and just nature, though he has acrued a small degree of infamy recently as he seems to be drinking quite a bit in his old age.
• House Ryger

  Dalran Ryger

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  Dalran Ryger

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord
  Age: 55
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: Dalran Ryger is a man eager to increase his position in the Riverlands. He is far from content with his current holdings in Willow Wood. The wealth of other, larger houses attracts him, yet he believes Ryger incapable of earning that wealth. He seeks to align himself with whichever side offers him the chance to sit upon a mound of gold, and has few morals to keep him grounded to his current lord.
• House Vance

  Jorah Vance

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  Jorah Vance

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord
  Age: 28
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: The Frey Rebellion cost both House Vances dearly, and they've yet to recover from the ordeal. Their lands had been burned and salted, and many of their holdings lay in ruin. After the dust had cleared both were united under their only remaining heir. In the decades that followed, the Vances have done all they can to rebuild what was destroyed and replace what was lost, but thus far they remain quite weak. Both House Tully and House Frey have been offering men, food and coin to Jorah Vance to aid them in the rebuilding, each hoping to bring the young lord onto their side.
• House Wode

  Daeron Wode

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  Daeron Wode

  
  

  

  
  

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  Title: Lord
  Age: 49
  Relation: Bannerman of House Tully
  Bio: House Wode has remained loyal to House Tully since the day they were granted Harrenhal as a prize for their loyalty to the Whents, and they've yet to waver in that loyalty even when times grow hard and the Freys press in at every side. Daeron Wode is a man who prizes his honor and duty above all else, seeking only to leave behind a legacy worthy of Harrenhal's ancient history. His primary goal is the rebuilding of Harrenhal, and he's sunk a great deal of his House's resources into the endeavor. With the help of House Mallister's riches and the stone workers of House Tully, he hopes the castle will be fully restored in his young son's lifetime.

Military Might:

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Rich in resources and richer in men, the Riverlands have always held the potential to thrive and blossom into a powerful region to rival even the Reach. But under the divided, quarrelsome rule of the Riverlords, progress has been crushed underneath their greed. 'Unity' is an empty word thrown around by those who don't understand what the region has become, and the seeds of rebellion continue to fester and bloat just underneath the surface.

The only thing that truly brings the noblemen together is the call to war. Promises of bloodshed in the name of vengeance and the prospect of great riches gather all of the banners House Tully commands together, though they rarely serve as a cohesive, singular force. It's a dozen small armies searching for loot and glory pretending to march in unions with one another; in reality, they're as much competing against one another as they are the enemy, though in admittedly far different ways.

In a perfect world, the Riverlands could muster forty-five thousand levies to march in the name of Riverrun. But this world is far from perfect, and most houses are reluctant to commit so many to any endeavor that does not directly affect their continued existence. Combined, the many houses usually can muster an army ranging somewhere between one and four thousand men when called upon, depending on the circumstances and current political climate.