Vor

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

I'm holding off until the others "take their turn", not really much my character would do or say at this point except for standing there awkwardly ;)

Game of Thrones

You wager having a good First Night is a good reason? ;)

@Sini

Well I guess that depends - would the character be on the receiving end or would he claim the...ehh dubious honour? Actually, both of them can work if you've got an idea, I'm easy.

@The Nexerus Interesting, do you have a link to this story or at least some more info? I'm kinda weary of having a second bastard in my repertoire, but you never know.

Game of Thrones

Symon Rivers - House Hightower

Name: Symon Rivers
Age: 29
House/Affiliation: House Hightower

Appearance:


Well-mannered and soft-spoken, Symon isn’t a man to stand out in a crowd. His thoughts are often obscured behind a characteristic smirk and he is very careful with his body language, doing his best to reveal nothing of himself. Symon walks with a visible limp in his left leg, which is the cause of some speculation in regards to his past, but it is doubtful he received it on the field of battle as he is not much of a warrior. Nevertheless, he is well-set and has the rough skin of someone used to travel and manual labour.

Biography:
Symon Rivers is a bastard-born of uncertain lineage who was unheard of until recently. As his name suggests he likely hails from the Riverlands, though he’s not claimed descent to any of the noble families there. Much of his past is shrouded in mystery and Symon isn’t very keen on talking about it, usually remarking that “he’s been here and there, doing whatever needed doing” and leaving it at that.

The paradoxical thing about him is that while few have heard of Symon Rivers, he seems to know a great many folk from whom he can call in a favour. His contacts extend well beyond the Reach, going as far as King’s Landing and Riverrun. While he cannot count the truly powerful among his associates, he has connections to many low-ranking officials and middlemen, not to mention a host of dubious characters who aren’t in the habit of asking questions.

Symon arrived in Oldtown sometime during or before the first snows and quickly made a name for himself. He started out by managing a couple of warehouses on the docks, but was soon called in to oversee the city’s granaries. Nobody can say for certain how he got the job at the wharves in the first place, though it is likely the result of someone repaying a favour. Whatever the case, he proved himself of being more than capable of managing Oldtown’s granaries during the harsh winter by conserving a remarkable amount of food, preventing any thefts and meddling from foreign forces while keeping everyone more or less happy.

His successes eventually garnered the attention of the Hightowers, especially Lord Otho, who invited him into his court. Ostensibly this was on account of Symon’s skill as an administrator, however it’s likely his network of contacts played a much greater role. With the coming of spring Symon is still settling into his elevated position, but he has already proven quite deft at navigating many of the court’s dangerous undercurrents.

Personality:
While he is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, Symon has proven to be an adept player of the Game. He has risen much in a relatively short time and shows no sign of stopping. A cynic at heart, Symon honestly believes that everyone is out for themselves and will not hesitate to use whatever means are necessary to gain the upper hand. That said, despite his flexible morals, he has a sort of personal code he sticks to. Favours are everything to Symon, he owes his success to them and knows that he must honour his obligations when called upon.

He is loyal to the Hightowers not because of some abstract ideal, but of pure necessity – he knows that the only way to achieve what he wants is to attach himself to a powerful lord and to aid in his endeavours. Perhaps one of his greatest strengths or flaws, depending on how you look at it, is that he is a realist, fully aware of his own position. As such, his ambitions are rather humble – he wishes to legitimise his name and found a House of his own. He will not get in the way of those more powerful than him, unless he has sufficient backing and a good reason for doing so.

Willam Whitehill - House Bolton

Name: Willam Whitehill, “Will the Knight” or “Ser Willie” (the latter two are used mockingly)
Age: 36
House/Affiliation: House Bolton

Appearance:


As a result of the gruesome scar running across his face, Willam’s mouth is permanently twisted in a snarl, giving him an unpleasant appearance. He walks confidently, like a lord, and speaks with a rough, grating voice. Willam is often dressed in his armour, well-made plate and mail, which men of his station normally cannot afford. Thick-necked and muscled, his body is criss-crossed by scars and old wounds, but he still appears to be healthy and robust. Upon meeting him one would usually notice that he has an extremely strong grip, even for a swordsman.

Biography:
Willam claims descent from the Whitehills of Highpoint, though he comes from an estranged branch of the family. His grandfather, Gareth Whitehill, was the youngest of three sons and would have remained relatively unknown if not for an event which shaped his life. Very shortly after the death of his father (Willam’s great-grandfather), Gareth’s oldest brother passed away under mysterious circumstances. The exact cause was never determined, but the shadow of kinslaying was cast on the young lord and he was forced to abandon his ancestral home. Neither the Glovers nor the Starks would have him, so he fled eastward and sought refuge in Bolton lands. The head of House Bolton at the time accepted the man’s fealty and offered his protection.

Gareth Whitehill was a renowned fighter in the region and served faithfully for many years. Near the end of his life he was granted a small tract of land and a keep to call his own, though it’s said the memory of Highpoint never left him. He was succeeded by Rickard Whitehill, Willam’s father, who proved to be a capable warrior in his own right. He fought in the Dance as part of the Winter Wolves under Lord Roderick Dustin and came back from the south with many spoils. Rickard is said to have been an ambitious man and used his newfound wealth to strengthen the keep, but after the death of his wife he took to drinking and squandered what remained of his fortune. Rumours say he found his death at the bottom of the keep’s well, falling in it after a night of heavy drinking.

Like his grandfather, Willam had two brothers that were older than him, as such he never expected to inherit anything and left the family keep shortly after his seventeenth name day. He wandered the south for years as little more than a hedge knight, taking part in the isolated conflicts that sometimes broke Aegon’s troubled peace. Though not much of a tourney knight, Willam participated in several and even won the melee at Duskendale, a feat for which he was knighted. A strange thing for a northerner, but as the Whitehills had always been devout followers of the Seven it was legally acceptable. Around this time Willam received news of his oldest brother’s passing due to some malady.

Willam’s second brother urged him to return and to help around their family lands, but Willam delayed until the first snows began paralyzing the countryside. When he finally came back, he learned that his brother had died in a hunting accident, leaving behind an infant boy. Willam had no choice but to remain and look after his nephew - he had never married and had no children of his own, so he and the young boy were the sole surviving Whitehills in Bolton lands.

Following the family tradition, he took up service with the Boltons and proved himself to be a capable and dependable man. Willam's skill with weapons, the experience he picked up from wars in the south and his unflinching loyalty to the House earned him the position of master-at-arms at the Dreadfort, following the death of the previous one. He quickly gained a notoriety among Bolton men for being exceptionally strict and severe in his training, but they grudgingly admit that he is one of the best this side of the Wolfswood. Willam's swift rise to fame has made him quite a few enemies among his peers and he is often mocked for his knightly title and “southron ways”, but thanks to his reputation and the favour of Lord Bolton his position remains strong.

Personality:
Willam has one and only passion – fighting. He knows little of life without violence and has fully embraced it, leaving room for little else. Loud, boisterous and quick to anger – he is just as likely to regale listeners with tales of the Whitehills’ exploits as to brawl with someone over a perceived slight to his family’s honour. While he frequently performs grisly deeds in the service of his lord, Willam takes no pleasure in it and believes himself to be better than the rabble he often works with. He sees his service to the Boltons as a sort of family debt – after all, they were the only ones who took his grandfather in when the other lords had shunned him. As such, with no one else left to fulfil the debt, Willam considers it a matter of family honour to be a dutiful servant.

A man of little ambition, Willam’s greatest regret is that he could not surpass the exploits of his father and grandfather - there were no great wars in his time and he feels he squandered his best years in the south with little to show for it. He loathes his life, but firmly believes he can do nothing to change it. In recent years this has driven him to drink, though he takes no pleasure in it, indeed he takes little pleasure in anything, except for battle.

No one would take Willam for a spiritual man, however the Gods are what he has turned to in order to ease his troubled mind. Even in this he seems torn and uncertain, as a Whitehill and a knight he has taken his vows before the Seven, but the Old Gods call to his northern blood. Willam bears the weight of this soul-searching by himself, he has no true friends and thinks that opening up to people is a sign of weakness.

Game of Thrones

Well, here's my application for a character in the service of House Hightower.

Symon Rivers

Name: Symon Rivers
Age: 29
House/Affiliation: House Hightower

Appearance:


Well-mannered and soft-spoken, Symon isn’t a man to stand out in a crowd. His thoughts are often obscured behind a characteristic smirk and he is very careful with his body language, doing his best to reveal nothing of himself. Symon walks with a visible limp in his left leg, which is the cause of some speculation in regards to his past, but it is doubtful he received it on the field of battle as he is not much of a warrior. Nevertheless, he is well-set and has the rough skin of someone used to travel and manual labour.

Biography:
Symon Rivers is a bastard-born of uncertain lineage who was unheard of until recently. As his name suggests he likely hails from the Riverlands, though he’s not claimed descent to any of the noble families there. Much of his past is shrouded in mystery and Symon isn’t very keen on talking about it, usually remarking that “he’s been here and there, doing whatever needed doing” and leaving it at that.

The paradoxical thing about him is that while few have heard of Symon Rivers, he seems to know a great many folk from whom he can call in a favour. His contacts extend well beyond the Reach, going as far as King’s Landing and Riverrun. While he cannot count the truly powerful among his associates, he has connections to many low-ranking officials and middlemen, not to mention a host of dubious characters who aren’t in the habit of asking questions.

Symon arrived in Oldtown sometime during or before the first snows and quickly made a name for himself. He started out by managing a couple of warehouses on the docks, but was soon called in to oversee the city’s granaries. Nobody can say for certain how he got the job at the wharves in the first place, though it is likely the result of someone repaying a favour. Whatever the case, he proved himself of being more than capable of managing Oldtown’s granaries during the harsh winter by conserving a remarkable amount of food, preventing any thefts and meddling from foreign forces while keeping everyone more or less happy.

His successes eventually garnered the attention of the Hightowers, especially Lord Otho, who invited him into his court. Ostensibly this was on account of Symon’s skill as an administrator, however it’s likely his network of contacts played a much greater role. With the coming of spring Symon is still settling into his elevated position, but he has already proven quite deft at navigating many of the court’s dangerous undercurrents.

Personality:
While he is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, Symon has proven to be an adept player of the Game. He has risen much in a relatively short time and shows no sign of stopping. A cynic at heart, Symon honestly believes that everyone is out for themselves and will not hesitate to use whatever means are necessary to gain the upper hand. That said, despite his flexible morals, he has a sort of personal code he sticks to. Favours are everything to Symon, he owes his success to them and knows that he must honour his obligations when called upon.

He is loyal to the Hightowers not because of some abstract ideal, but of pure necessity – he knows that the only way to achieve what he wants is to attach himself to a powerful lord and to aid in his endeavours. Perhaps one of his greatest strengths or flaws, depending on how you look at it, is that he is a realist, fully aware of his own position. As such, his ambitions are rather humble – he wishes to legitimise his name and found a House of his own. He will not get in the way of those more powerful than him, unless he has sufficient backing and a good reason for doing so.

I'm also planning on playing a landed knight or something along those lines, so if anyone needs such a character give me a nudge. Hedge knights or other vagabonds are welcome as well, I'm sure we can think of a reason to get together.

Of partners and plots! AKA Vor's IntCheck

Added another plot (trope subversion) and using the opportunity to give this another bump!

MOONQUEST

>Ignore the SIGN which is for pussies and enter the SPOOKY MOON CAVE, because it's a goddamn SPOOKY MOON CAVE!

Game of Thrones

<Snipped quote by Vor>

House Hightower will be in need of a intrigue-focused character soon enough.

@Asura

Nice to hear, I've already got some character ideas in mind for that, as soon as we've got more info I'll get to work.

I'm also thinking of a second character, someone more combat-oriented so if either House Hightower or any other families need more fighting men - look no further!

Damn, now I have to resist the urge of watching GoT highlight compilations on youtube....

Game of Thrones

I'm a huge sucker for Martin's world, especially stuff that isn't centered around the time frame of the books/show - definitely interested!

I have no desire to play a House, however, so if anyone needs (yet another) sworn sword/retainer/spy/traitor, I'm your man. Potentially I could go for a very minor bannerman, but either way I'd like to play a character in the service of someone else.

A small question, can we play more than one character?

Do you join RPs because people you like are interested in it?

Not really, it's the concept that draws me in, not the RP'ers. In fact, I prefer to RP with new people when possible in order to keep things fresh. Case in point, I was part of a PnP group and we ran various campaigns using different systems (D&D 4th & 5th Ed, Savage Worlds, Edge of the Empire, etc) over a period of 6 years. These were some exceptional RP'ers, but we eventually reached a point where it was pretty predictable. Sure, we made new and different characters every time, but I knew the people themselves so well that I had a pretty good idea of what was going to go down in the RP beforehand.

That's a pretty extreme example, I agree, but I've fallen into the same trap in forum RP as well. It's always great fun to write with trusted people, but you just grow too comfortable after a while, know what I'm saying?

A Tolkien based RP: Out of the Past

Cole kept his head low while he was escorted into the courtyard, partly because he wanted to shield his eyes from the downpour, but mostly because of the growing feeling of shame. The two guards holding him firmly by the arms said nothing as they shoved him in front of Leofric, who seemed to be in an even worse mood than before.

“Both of you follow me.”

The Bree-lander didn’t have much choice in the matter, as the silent duo forcefully pushed him onward. Cole couldn’t help but glance up at the other newcomer and had to stop himself from gasping. A stately man walked next to him, clad in gleaming chain and a blue surcoat bearing a white swan. Wings flared out from the sides of his helm, giving him an imposing appearance. Needless to say, Cole was dumbstruck. He thought that Eorl’s folk inspired awe, but this man came straight from the legends!

There was something familiar about the knight’s armour, but he couldn’t quite remember from where – he’d certainly never seen another living Man or Dwarf wearing such fine gear. Cole didn’t linger on that thought for long, however, as his eyes were drawn to the wonders of the king’s hall. Tapestries lined the walls, along with spoils of war – spears and bows and swords of kinds he’d never seen, not to mention all the foreign banners. For the first time in his journey Cole began to comprehend the vastness of it all. Did each of these flags represent a town? A kingdom? A people? How many cities and holds and lords’ halls must be out there!

Leofric’s gravelly voice whispered in his ear:

“Stand straight and do not flinch, you are in the presence of the Lord of the Riddermark!”

Cole looked up and this time he couldn’t stop himself from gasping like a hobbit who’d seen his first man-sized pint at the Prancing Pony! Atop an unassuming chair the King was seated. There was no doubt as to who this man was, Eorl’s presence seemed to fill up the entire hall and it wasn’t owed to his mountainous figure. No, there was something else. A quiet, unshakable authority which seemed to radiate from the man. The kind that only a great ruler possessed – that’s what Cole had read in his scrolls at least.

His surprise wasn’t reserved only for the king, but for the man Eorl had his eyes fixed on. Yet another thing he witnessed for the first time today, as he had never seen a man with such dusky skin before. Eorl and his men were fair of skin and hair, while this stranger was the exact opposite – everything about him was dark. Was he another prisoner, like Cole? He certainly looked the part, surrounded as he was by the king’s men.

This left a sour taste in Cole’s mouth. This outlandish man, a great warrior perhaps, warranted an entire contingent of guards, who even now had their strange, bow-like contraptions aimed at him. So many people for just one man! Meanwhile, Cole had his two dour guards and the ever-cheerful Leofric. They didn’t even reach for their weapons as they let go of Cole, considering him no threat at all.

And to think I believed that I could be useful on this quest…Cole, you fool, what madness possessed you to come here?!

While he was self-pitying himself, the knight he had walked besides introduced himself as a Man of Gondor, confirming Cole’s suspicions. So it was real! Nobody at home had believed him, but he always knew in his heart that these faraway places were not mere stories.

He felt foolish standing there, but decided not speak unless addressed. After all, he doubted that the king had any interest in him.