Vanq

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

Poor Fellows Commander

Lady Ellyn Dayne

Lady of Prisms - Sword of the Morning


Born 13AC - 28

Description and Biography:

Lady Ellyn was born to Ser Joffrey Dayne in the years following the first Dornish War. Ser Joffrey had been a well-regarded knight even before claiming Dawn. In the aftermath of the Starfall’s burning at the hands of Visenya and Vhagar, he and his family were turned into outcasts. Though the title would not be revoked, for there was no precedent for it, they were unwelcome no matter where they went in House Dayne’s lands.

The girl was the only child to be born to Joffrey and his common wife. Their nomadic life took a great toll on her parents and her mother died suddenly when Ellyn was not quite eight. Joffrey was not a bad father, but he was a scarred and traumatized man left to raise a daughter on his own. He trained her, reluctantly at first until she showed an inherent skill for it. His own anger - not restricted to just the Targaryens but also to Dorne and their family - seeped into Ellyn. She despised the dragon lords with every ounce of her being. She found solace in the stories she heard of the Faith Militant and dreamed of joining their mission. Her father was not thrilled with his daughter’s plans but he knew there was little for her in Dorne.

When she was twenty-six, Joffrey succumbed to old ailments from the war. They had been making their way north, looking for a way to pass into the Marches and leave Dorne for good. Yet Dawn was meant to be returned to Starfall until the next Sword of the Morning was ready to claim it. Ellyn paused only briefly before taking the sword from the barely cold body of her father. There was little time to waste before more of her family’s knights would be in pursuit.

She crossed first into the Reach and struggled to find passage to Oldtown. Her life had prepared her for difficulty, but she had never been alone in it. Her need for vengeance pushed her forward only to be denied it in Oldtown. A woman, no matter the unusual sword she bore, was not welcome in the Warrior’s Sons. Ellyn left, utterly dejected and nearly broken. She had no coin left, the only item of worth was her family’s sword. She despaired and contemplated flinging herself and the sword into the sea to be lost to ages.

The Poor Fellows saved her. Smallfolk and women, those normally voiceless yet resolute in their beliefs no different from the Warrior’s Sons. Quickly she formed a small band where they took to calling her their Lady of Prisms. They gifted her a worn rainbow cloak and in time, Ellyn took to calling herself the Sword of the Morning. With renewed purpose, her resolve was only strengthened by seeing how the people began to turn against the dragon lords.

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

A Royal Progression

The night was unseasonably chilly for being so well entrenched into spring. Rhaena hugged herself, her arms bared to the elements, the silken night shift offering minimal warmth. Night, but dawn was not far off, hints of light played along the horizon. The Princess was exhausted but sleep had escaped her yet again. She had had to disentangle herself from a cluster of arms that had cradled her. Aegon had been softly snoring but had not stirred at all. Samantha had nearly woken but rolled over into Alayne instead. Rhaena had paused for just a moment to smile sadly at the sight before pulling herself to the small sitting room outside the bed chamber. The window looked out over the road they had arrived here on, rough and unfinished.

Their time at Sarsfield had been cut short, a courtier had advised their kingsguard to make haste for Casterly Rock, their journey could no longer be a meandering, leisurely tour. It had, in many ways, been an unnecessary warning. No one in the party could ignore the growing tension and animosity that met them in each village, in each castle. Lords welcomed them but cautiously, some with clear distaste to be hosting them. It was shocking to not just Rhaena, but Aegon as well. Their father was beloved. Or so they had thought. Worse still were the simpering lords and ladies with unabashed greed in their eyes. Alayne had cautioned her to beware that type the most.

Nothing in King's Landing had prepared them for this. The village mayor at Oxcross had offered up his home, a finer - barely - establishment than the inn was. The man was clearly displeased about it but one look from Darkrobin had quieted the man to one final grunt before vacating his residence. The smallfolk in Oxcross had crowded the road when their train arrived, some eager to ogle the pretty princess and her ladies, others to scowl. They had heard some of the insults no longer uttered just in hushed whispers. Abomination. A few tears rolled down her cheek at the memory of it. They had jeered, some had begun to fling rotten waste, and a strong smell of excrement had followed them into the village proper. Ser Robin had worked quickly with the other knights to push back the crowds, but it stung to be received in such a manner. They stood guard around the mayor's home, she could hear the soft neighs from their horses, the occasional snort, the jingle of metal. Gods, all she really wanted was to no longer feel the constant, prickling fear. Surely Casterly Rock and the Lannisters would be a reprieve. A blush spread across her cheeks as she wondered if Melony Piper would be there. Her last letter had indicated as much, and it had been so long since she had last seen her.

Eventually the sun broke over the horizon and Rhaena was given cause to return to the bedroom when she heard Alayne and Samantha beginning their day. In King’s Landing it would have been unusual for her to be out of bed before them, but here on the road it had become a common occurrence. The Princess stood in the doorway, leaning against the rough frame, hand to hip and a smile forced across her lips. "Aegon being a lazy oaf again? Do I need to get Ser Robin to scare him awake?" She spoke quietly, lilac eyes darting between the women and Aegon, who was now sprawled across the otherwise empty bed. Dearest brother, friend, husband. It was not unwelcome but the word turned round in her mind, twisted, uncomfortable. Two sons and then done. No one could ask any more of her, then they could return to the way things had been.

Samantha paused her morning ministrations to giggle softly. She turned, her face dripping with water. "Oh no, not again, I don't think I can listen to him moaning about it all day." She wasn’t wrong. The last time Aegon had refused to get out of bed, albeit, it was after a night of far too much wine, the kingsguard took to shaking the prince awake. Ostensibly it was in fear that he had slipped into a coma. Neither man was pleased with the way Aegon had vomited from surprise and motion.

Rhaena playfully pouted and plopped herself into a chair, triggering a heavy scowl from Alayne in mock disapproval. "A prin-cess must -" She was cut off briefly before a trio of voices joined in to finish the admonishment, "be delicate in all matters." The women giggled, for a moment the heaviness lifted and mirth filled the room.

Aegon stirred at last and propped himself up to his elbows, a bit of drowsiness still in his eyes. "Yes, Septa Lorra would be very disapproving of you still si…" He paused, how to address each other had not eased any since their wedding. "Rhae." The Prince gave a small shrug and impish grin. "I have manners unlike the rest of you, excuse me while I see to nature." He slid out of bed, yanking his trousers about him and pulling a tunic over his head. It had become a common scene on their progress, when their accommodations had allowed for it anyways.

"He's worried." Alayne spoke when they heard Aegon leave with one of the knights. “He was muttering in his sleep.”

Rhaena sighed, serious again, too quickly. "I know. It's still three days to Casterly. Two if we ride ahead with a smaller group. Seven hells, if only I’d been permitted to bring Dreamfyre." How much safer they would be with her. How much more secure she would feel on wing than steed. Neither woman responded, it had been a common refrain but there was nothing to be done now.

"Come, let's get you dressed." Alayne took action, as she often did, a nervous tic, better to do something than nothing.

---

Aegon had yet to return inside. He had not wanted his sister, his wife, to see him worried. It had been a restless night. He had woken, not long after Rhaena had, but fell back to dark dreams. Sleep had provided little rest. Ser Robin found him in the stables, other knights were preparing their horses for the day’s journey, and though he did not need to, the prince found brushing his mount a better way to gather his thoughts than to sit idly by.

“Have you sent word ahead to Casterly Rock?” He kept his voice low, his head barely turned towards the whitecloak now beside him. They had sent word ahead from Sarsfield, but they rode faster now, aiming to arrive many days sooner than originally intended.

“Aye, we should expect a Lannister party to join us along the way.” He shifted his weight, a small glance over his shoulder as his men began to form up. “Still, it would be wise for us to move out quickly. A group of Poor Fellows arrived in the night. Likely nothing to be concerned with, of course. They have a group of pilgrims with them, on their way back from the sept at Highgarden.” So they said. There had been a lot of them, and not so many pilgrims remaining.

“Good…good.” The Prince barely focused on the words. He hoped the girls were less aware of just how precarious things felt at the moment. They were so close to Lannister aid, just a few days more. “The Princess and her ladies should be ready soon. Is everything else ready?”

“Yes, my lord. Including the Princess’...menagerie.” It hadn’t been quite so annoying at the start of the journey, Rhaena’s insistence in bringing her pets. Only my favorites. She had said, but her favorites included the damnable squawking bird and a gaggle of dogs useless for anything other than keeping laps warm.

“She will be pleased. We’ll ride ahead with you and however men you think necessary but we want to meet the Lannister party ahead of the train.” His horse stamped impatiently, Aegon had been brushing the same spot for far too long. He dropped the brush to the ground. “Have someone finish up for me, ser? I should prepare myself for the day.”

---

Not an hour later, while the rest of the train finished packing and organizing, the smaller party was on horseback. Rhaena had caused a small scene, unhappy that her pets would not accompany them, no matter that they were trying to move quickly. A compromise was reached in allowing the bird out of it’s travel cage to travel with her. The kingsguard did not like how delayed they had been. The whole village was awake now, and no matter how much his men worked to keep them at a distance, a crowd had formed to watch the royals leave.

Worse, the Poor Fellows had gathered.

Princess and Prince, Ladies Samantha and Alayne, a whitecloak, and their honor guard took off down the road at a royal pace. They maintained a look of indifference even as the crowd closed up behind them, the road back into the village fully blocked. They kept their blank expressions even as they saw the Poor Fellows following parallel in the fields surrounding the road. Always at a distance, but always there menacing. Ser Robin urged the group to a gallop, they were on horseback and the faithful were not. A bit of speed to create distance and all would be well.

A few hours later, the knight saw his error too late. A group of men clad in the gray robes of the Poor Fellows blocked the road ahead. He called the group up short, their horses were tired now. The princess and her ladies were clearly weary as well from the hard ride.

“Seven’s blessings to you on this fine day.” The kingsguard called out to them. The men directly in front of them bore self-inflicted scars on their foreheads, the seven pointed star. They were rough looking, their hands rested on their cudgels, menacing.

“We seek nothing more than -” Hushed murmurs increased in volume and the kingsguard was silenced in shock.

“Abomination. Your sins must be cleansed. Abomination.”

They did not move but more men appeared before them, the air crackled with potential violence.

“Abomination. Dragon-whore.”

Rhaena, ignoring furtive looks from both Aegon and her ladies, urged her horse forward. “Please, my good men we mean-”

“Abomination, whore!”

Rhaena’s expression hardened once more, before she could speak again, a hail of dirt hit her and those behind her. At least, it did not smell foul enough to be anything worse than dirt. She glanced down at the stain across her woolen riding jacket. When she looked back up, her lips had curled into a sneer, her normally pleasant demeanor now cruel. “You would not dare to be so bold should I return on a dragon. Move. Now.” The girl was gone, replaced with the rare confidence of her dragonblood.

A sound pierced the air, horrid, anguished. Her bird, brilliant white, had been flying overhead and sought to perch on her shoulder. Rhaena could not see what happened, but Aegon behind her saw it occur, slowly, unbelieving. One of the Poor Fellows near the front had a sling and his aim, true or not, was devastating.

Blood, crimson and hot, splashed across Rhaena’s face.

The princess’s response was feral, her horse reared as the bird fell lifeless to the road. It was chaos unleashed, Ser Robin Darklyn called the escort to attack, Aegon urged his own horse to action, his sword clumsily unsheathed to meet the mass of the faithful.

Rhaena couldn’t make sense of it at all. She looked about frantically as her horse took off on its own, no sign of Samantha or Alayne. She saw only a mass of gray and metal, the sound of steel meeting flesh, the sound of men dying. Gods, please let it not be Aegon. She gripped the reins, unsure of where to urge the horse towards other than away from the horrific sounds of battle.

And then the world was upside down. The sky was now beneath her, brilliant and blue, the sun blazing warmth on her face. For a moment she felt as she did when flying with Dreamfyre, free and wild.Then, suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She gasped, choked, grasped and felt only pain, saw only red. Blood. Not again. She looked beside her, blinking violently to clear her sight, her horse flailed on the ground, yes she was on the ground, beside her. No. She tried to roll over, right herself, stand. Run. She couldn’t, her legs refused to obey. Pain shot up her side. All she could hear were screams. Her head rolled, she felt sick. Sick as when they had drunk all that honeyed wine. She tasted metal.

Bare feet stopped in front of her, brown and red. Then they were gone with a guttural thud, replaced with metal boots. Her eyes slowly focused beyond them. A flash of silver streaked with red. “Aegon.” Her lips moved but she couldn’t hear if she made a sound. He was here for her, here to save her.

He wasn’t moving.

Why wasn’t he moving.

Why.

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

Character Index and Glossary

41 AC

This index will be updated as allegiances shift, new characters arise, or old ones die.

Crownlands

House Targaryen

Immediate Family

• Aenys I, called King Abomination in response to marrying his daughter to his son. Reigned from 37 to 42 AC. Married to Alyssa Velaryon.
  
  • Rhaena (18)
  • Melyssanthi (17)
  • Aegon (15)
  • Viserys (12)
  • Jaehaerys (7)
  • Alysanne (5)
  • Vaella
• Maegor, called the Cruel, Aegon's son by Queen Visenya. Currently in exile in Essos
  
  • Ceryse Hightower - wife
  • Alys Harroway - second wife, in exile in Pentos
• Visenya Targaryen

Small Council

• Hand of the King
• Grand Maester
• Master of Ships and Lord Admiral
• LC of the Kingsguard

Kingsguard

• Lord Commander Addison Hill, Bastard of Cornfield
• Ser Raymont Baratheon
• Ser Robin Darklyn, Darkrobin
• Ser Richard Roote
• Ser Gregor Goode
• Ser Griffith Goode
• Ser Humfrey, Humfrey the Mummer

---

The Faith

The Warrior's Sons
Lady Ellyn Dayne of the Poor Fellows

---

The North

House Stark

The Vale

House Arryn

The Riverlands

House Tully
House Harroway

The Westerlands

House Lannister

The Reach

House Tyrell
Ser Ryam Redwyne

The Stormlands

House Baratheon

The Iron Islands

House Greyjoy
House Smokestone

Dorne

Independent agents

The Flame of Lys: King's Landing
Garin Sands and family

Foreigners

House Rahl of Volantis
House Balaerys of Volantis
Tyanna of Pentos

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

A WOMAN?!

Lady Ellyn Dayne

Lady of Prisms - Sword of the Morning


Born 13AC - 28

Description and Biography:

Lady Ellyn was born to Ser Joffrey Dayne in the years following the first Dornish War. Ser Joffrey had been a well-regarded knight even before claiming Dawn. In the aftermath of the Starfall’s burning at the hands of Visenya and Vhagar, he and his family were turned into outcasts. Though the title would not be revoked, for there was no precedent for it, they were unwelcome no matter where they went in House Dayne’s lands.

The girl was the only child to be born to Joffrey and his common wife. Their nomadic life took a great toll on her parents and her mother died suddenly when Ellyn was not quite eight. Joffrey was not a bad father, but he was a scarred and traumatized man left to raise a daughter on his own. He trained her, reluctantly at first until she showed an inherent skill for it. His own anger - not restricted to just the Targaryens but also to Dorne and their family - seeped into Ellyn. She despised the dragon lords with every ounce of her being. She found solace in the stories she heard of the Faith Militant and dreamed of joining their mission. Her father was not thrilled with his daughter’s plans but he knew there was little for her in Dorne.

When she was twenty-six, Joffrey succumbed to old ailments from the war. They had been making their way north, looking for a way to pass into the Marches and leave Dorne for good. Yet Dawn was meant to be returned to Starfall until the next Sword of the Morning was ready to claim it. Ellyn paused only briefly before taking the sword from the barely cold body of her father. There was little time to waste before more of her family’s knights would be in pursuit.

She crossed first into the Reach and struggled to find passage to Oldtown. Her life had prepared her for difficulty, but she had never been alone in it. Her need for vengeance pushed her forward only to be denied it in Oldtown. A woman, no matter the unusual sword she bore, was not welcome in the Warrior’s Sons. Ellyn left, utterly dejected and nearly broken. She had no coin left, the only item of worth was her family’s sword. She despaired and contemplated flinging herself and the sword into the sea to be lost to ages.

The Poor Fellows saved her. Smallfolk and women, those normally voiceless yet resolute in their beliefs no different from the Warrior’s Sons. Quickly she formed a small band where they took to calling her their Lady of Prisms. They gifted her a worn rainbow cloak and in time, Ellyn took to calling herself the Sword of the Morning. With renewed purpose, her resolve was only strengthened by seeing how the people began to turn against the dragon lords.

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

Rhaena Targaryen

Rhaena Targaryen

18 (Born 23 AC)

Description & Biography:

The beautiful but mercurial first daughter of the king, first grandchild of the Conquerer, knew a life of comfort and ease. She had been a shy child, more likely to be found hiding behind her mother’s skirts than playing with the little noble girls her mother arranged to be her friends. People terrified her, but none more than her Uncle Maegor. Her great-aunt Visenya was only barely a close second in being able to send the child scurrying for cover. Where people failed her, animals brought out a boldness. From the time she could walk she would wander the Aegonfort with a small procession of cats and scruffy puppies following in her wake. She was gifted an exotic talking bird for her sixth nameday, a bird that eventually learned to curse at courtiers and nobles in High Valyrian. When she was just nine though, her world shifted significantly when she bonded with the young dragon she came to call Dreamfyre. It was as if part of her had finally been awakened, emboldened.

Rhaena soon formed close relationships, in particular with Samantha Stokeworth. The girls became inseparable as they grew into their adolescence. The Princess became known for a fierce loyalty to family and friends, though she still shrank in Maegor or Visenya’s presence. She had barely made it through her first moon’s blood when her mother confessed at last that at one time she had been intended to wed Maegor. The truth sent her into a fit and she spent the night sobbing in bed. Samantha, Melyssanthi, and Aegon spent the night consoling her. Though she loved all her siblings, it was Melys and Aegon who were nearly always found in each other’s company; some whispered of them as the new three headed dragon. But the trio was too often accompanied by Samantha, her arms and fingers laced through Rhaena’s, their heads bent in quiet whispers and giggles.

Not long after Rhaena and Aegon were informed they would be wed when Aegon was of age. Neither saw fit to despair or dispute it. Though Rhaena had realized she had little interest in men, she was the eldest of her father’s children and their blood’s tradition required a simple sacrifice. Still, one night as they discussed their future, the princess confessed all to her brother. They would marry, the gods would take pity on her and give her two sons in quick succession, but then she begged to no longer be needed in his bed. Her brother quickly agreed, he could not ever force her to be who she was not. They each would do their duty but no more.

When Aegon was declared to be of age in 41AC, they were wed. Rhaena knew of the discontent regarding the marriage but naively brushed it aside. Maegor had angered the Faith and the people for taking a second wife, but to secure a stable rule, they needed a stable bloodline. The Westerosi would come to see that in time, she was certain of it. And her father was so beloved by the people, surely any grumblings would pass quickly.

The reality of the situation made itself apparent far too quickly. Rhaena and Aegon were wed and sent out to visit their realm in celebration. She had been barred from riding Dreamfyre as her husband had yet to claim his own dragon. She had been despondent at first until both Samantha and a new favorite friend, Alayne Royce, reminded her it meant more time together. Aegon had not even blinked at his wife’s request to have both women accompany them, day and night. Yet, as the days and weeks wore on it became readily apparent just how unforgivable Westeros found their union to be. The foursome found fewer moments to laugh, grew more fearful with each days’ travel. There was a deepness to the anger, a danger to the judging eyes. It was no longer a question of if but of when it would spill over to violence.

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

House Arryn

House Arryn

As High as Honor

House Overview

House Arryn come from the oldest and purest stock of Andal nobility, with some - including the current lord - certain that their ancestors trace directly back to Hugor of the Hill. The Vale, and the Arryns of the Vale, fought valiantly over centuries to consolidate their rule and spurn interlopers. The arrival and subsequent conquest by Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives brought fresh bloodshed to their gates, events that the eldest Arryns still hold bright in their memories.

During Aegon's Conquest the Arryn and Targaryen fleets fought in a battle in the waters off Gulltown, which resulted in the destruction of the Targaryen fleet and the death of its commanding officer, Daemon Velaryon. Visenya Targaryen, on her dragon Vhagar, burned the Arryn fleet in response. Since both fleets were destroyed, the battle was considered a tactical draw, but a strategic defeat for the Targaryens as they were unable to take Gulltown. For House Arryn the trouble did not end there, since the Sistermen on the Three Sisters revolted after the destruction of the Arryn fleet.

Later in Aegon's Conquest, Visenya was charged with subduing the Vale. Sharra Arryn, Queen Regent of the Vale, ruling in the name of her son, the boy-king Ronnel Arryn, amassed the Vale's army at the Bloody Gate. Visenya, however, flew on Vhagar to the courtyard of the Eyrie to obtain the surrender of the Vale of Arryn. When Sharra returned to the Eyrie she found her son sitting on Visenya's lap asking if he could ride the dragon with her. Once Sharra yielded and bent the knee, Ronnel twice flew with Visenya and Vhagar. The Arryns have since remained Defenders of the Vale and Wardens of the East for the Iron Throne.

Peace did not come quickly for the Vale. In 37 AC, Lord Ronnel was deposed by his brother Jonos. A civil war brewed with House Royce gathering forces and besieging the Eyrie. In response, the usurper Jonos threw Ronnel and his family through the Moon Door. Justice arrived on wingback, with Prince Maegor arriving to hang Jonos and his supporters. Order was restored by tyranny and Lord Hubert, a cousin, was installed as Lord Paramount.

--House Arryn AWOIAF

House Arryn Family Tree

• Lady Elys^{The Crone} age 59
  
  • Married three times and widowed all
  • Returned to the Vale upon her brother's ascension to act as advisor
  • Fervent supporter of the Faith, mystical, but widely respected
• Lady Rowena ^{The Mother} age 57
  
  • Widowed young and never remarried or returned to the Vale
• Lord Hubert ^{The Father} age 54
  
  • Lord of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale, Warden of the East
  • Wed to Lady Royce, with six living sons

  
  

  The Sons

  • Artys - 22 [Accompanying Sharra]
  • Alester - 19 [Joined Company of the Rose]
  • Andar - 17 [Gulltown, with House Grafton]
  • Arrec - 12 [Squired to House Corbray]
  • Alyn - 8 [Sent to the Faith for training]
  • Albar - 2 [In the Eyrie]
• Elder Brother Isembard ^{The Smith} age 50
  
  • Widower, wife died in childbirth and the son died just two years later
  • Joined the Faith as a Begging Brother in penance for the sins that led to his family's death
  • Settled at a septry in a small and rural outpost of the Crownlands, eventually becoming Elder Brother
• Ser Osric ^{The Warrior} age 26
  
  • Eldest born of his father's second wife
  • Egotistical but proven knight
  • Contentious relationship with his half-siblings
  • Arrived in King's Landing in 40AC with a small entourage of friends
• Lady Sharra ^{The Maiden} age 22
  
  • Named in honor of Queen Sharra
  • Overlooked for much of her life, not close to any of her siblings or half-siblings except for Lady Elys
  • Currently on a tour with her septa and small honor guard in <reach/westerlands/tbd>
• Young Jasper ^{The Stranger} age 20
  
  • A solitary outcast amongst family and Vale nobility alike
  • Unusual interest in dark topics; necromancy, the long night, the doom, and ancient prophesies from across the Narrow Sea
  • Currently in Oldtown

Lady Elys

Lady Elys of the Vale

59 - Born 18BC

Description and Biography

Elys was a young woman, freshly wed, when the conquest began. She was heavy with child when she watched Visenya and Vhagar burn the fleet off the shores of Gulltown. Her first husband burned or drowned. Like so many others from the battle, it was impossible to know his fate. She gave birth just a few weeks later, a girl. Her husband's younger brother had survived and they were married a year later. She gave him three children, two boys and another girl. Their marriage was tainted, the memory of her first husband an ever present cloud. Her second husband took heavily to drink and was found floating in the harbor just six years into their marriage.

Lady Elys was barely twenty-six and had been widowed twice. Her dead husbands' family, House Shett of Gulltown, turned on her in their grief. Not knowing what else to do, she returned to her famiy's estate. But her father was a pragmatic man and his eldest daughter still had some youth and was proven as fertile. When House Melcolm's aging lord had need of a new wife, and one who could give him a son, the match was quickly agreed to.

But Elys, now Lady of Old Anchor, was not well. She fell pregnant quickly, but while her previous pregnancies had been without issue, she barely survived her fifth. Her son was born, though she had nearly wasted away during the final months. It took her nearly a year to fully recover. Perhaps having lost her previous children due to circumstance, she found no joy in the new babe and spurned her husband. Though her father had been deeply religious, Elys had not shared his devotions. In the months that alternated between extreme grief and pain, and months of dull ambivalence, she found solace in the Seven. She took to the sept and believed herself to commune with the Crone who guided her to an understanding of herself, her family. When Lord Melcolm passed of old age a decade later, Lady Elys stayed to guide their son to adulthood. She still did not consider herself his mother, she had been too distant for too long, but instead a divine mentor.

When her brother ascended to the Eyrie, due only to Targaryen violence inflicted once more, she returned to his side. They had grown closer in the past two decades - by missive and brief visits - than they had been as children. Their shared faith bound them and they saw in them and their siblings the aspects of the Seven. She is most concerned with the way Hubert's children seem uninterested in carrying on the faith beyond the most superficial displays. Her brother shares some of these concerns but believes they will grow into it, when the wildness of youth is spent.

Ser Osric Arryn

Ser Orsric Arryn of the Vale

26 - Born 15AC

Description and Biography

Osric is a talented knight, for his age. He thinks far too highly of himself, a trait encouraged and groomed by his mother. His father died just a year after the birth of his youngest son leaving the raising of the three youngest Arryns to their mother and the disinterest of their eldest brother, Hubert. House Royce and their knights attempted to forge Osric into a true Andal warrior, a faithful servant of the Seven. The lad was only ever briefly proficient at keeping up the pretense of piety. His father would have been disappointed, Hubert certainly was, but his mother shielded him from nearly any consequence.

As a squire he accompanied several forays against the mountain clans. Osric enjoyed his time in the wilderness, crossing the hills and mountains to quell the heathen rebels. He enjoyed it, perhaps, too much. He had a taste for violence and soon also found a taste for ale and women. Before his eighteenth nameday, he had earned a reputation for himself along Gulltown's docks as well as the city's whorehouses. He earned his knighthood at twenty-two, leading a charge against a hill tribe that had kidnapped a minor noble's daughter. The girl was killed in the chaos of battle, a minor inconvenience to Osric, but he was thanked for exacting justice on the heathens who had assaulted her.

The knight was enamored with Maegor's arrival to exact justice against Jonos. Though he thought Hubert a terrible choice, too pious, too dull, too pandering, it did offer more opportunity to Osric. Not long after, he found reason to ask for leave to go to King's Landing. By the time Hubert had given permission and Osric set off with a small group of companions, Maegor had been exiled. Not deterred, they carried on to enjoy all the vices the new but bustling city had to offer men of a certain type.

Alester Arryn

Alester Arryn

The Pretty Bird

19 - Born 22AC

Description and Biography

member of the Company of the Rose for 2-3 years
joined when they were stopped in Gulltown for supplies on their way south
father incredibly displeased but was never on good terms with the family
given the nickname by men in the company for how delicate he was at the start of his training with the company
closest to X in the company / semi-father figure

Lady Sharra

Lady Sharra of the Vale

22 - Born 19AC

Description and Biography

Lady Sharra was the second born to her father's second wife. Her elder half-siblings paid little mind to the young ones and her older brother, Osric, was the apple of their mother's eye and could do no wrong. Her younger brother, Jasper, was an oddity from a young age. The girl was alone no matter the size of her family. It did not help matters that their family had not been welcome at the Eyrie, though they were close cousins to Lord Ronnel, they had been barred from the Eyrie since before the conquest. The family instead was relegated to the winter castle with House Royce, or Gulltown. Sharra had always preferred their time at Gulltown over the stout castle.

Her care was largely left to her Septa. Her father had been a severely pious man, though her mother paid only lip service to the Seven. Her elder siblings inherited far more of that same fervor. Sharra cared little for such things though she loved the imagery of the Seven. It pleased her septa enough that her charge grew talented in painting religious icons and scenes. As a young teenager, she was a gentle and compliant daughter, always in vain hope that she would garner some attention for being the good child. It was all for naught, Osric's churlish nature and Jasper's strangeness pushed Sharra further into the shadows as her family tried to wrestle her brothers into proper Arryns.

When her eldest brother was made Lord Paramount following the murder of Lord Ronnel and justice against Jonos, the entire family ascended to the Eyrie. Sharra spent only two years in court before at last Lord Hubert seemed to realize her presence. He had arranged for her to spend some time in other courts - Riverrun first, then Casterly Rock, Highgarden, and Storm's End. Her cousin, Hubert's heir Artys, would accompany her along with a small number of knights, other lesser nobles, and her septa. Alone again, in a sea of people.

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

Rhaena Targaryen

Rhaena Targaryen

18 (Born 23 AC)

Description & Biography:

The beautiful but mercurial first daughter of the king, first grandchild of the Conquerer, knew a life of comfort and ease. She had been a shy child, more likely to be found hiding behind her mother’s skirts than playing with the little noble girls her mother arranged to be her friends. People terrified her, but none more than her Uncle Maegor. Her great-aunt Visenya was only barely a close second in being able to send the child scurrying for cover. Where people failed her, animals brought out a boldness. From the time she could walk she would wander the Aegonfort with a small procession of cats and scruffy puppies following in her wake. She was gifted an exotic talking bird for her sixth nameday, a bird that eventually learned to curse at courtiers and nobles in High Valyrian. When she was just nine though, her world shifted significantly when she bonded with the young dragon she came to call Dreamfyre. It was as if part of her had finally been awaken, emboldened.

Rhaena soon formed close relationships, in particular with Samantha Stokeworth. The girls became inseparable as they grew into their adolescence. The Princess became known for a fierce loyalty to family and friends, though she still shrank in Maegor or Visenya’s presence. She had barely made it through her first moon’s blood when her mother confessed at last that at one time she had been intended to wed Maegor. The truth sent her into a fit and she spent the night sobbing in bed. Samantha, Melyssanthi, and Aegon spent the night consoling her. Though she loved all her siblings, it was Melys and Aegon who were nearly always found in each other’s company; some whispered of them as the new three headed dragon. But the trio was too often accompanied by Samantha, her arms and fingers laced through Rhaena’s, their heads bent in quiet whispers and giggles.

Not long after Rhaena and Aegon were informed they would be wed when Aegon was of age. Neither saw fit to despair or dispute it. Though Rhaena had realized she had little interest in men, she was the eldest of her father’s children and their blood’s tradition required a simple sacrifice. Still, one night as they discussed their future, the princess confessed all to her brother. They would marry, the gods would take pity on her and give her two sons in quick succession, but then she begged to no longer be needed in his bed. Her brother quickly agreed, he could not ever force her to be who she was not. They each would do their duty but no more.

When Aegon was declared to be of age in 41AC, they were wed. Rhaena knew of the discontent regarding the marriage but naively brushed it aside. Maegor had angered the Faith and the people for taking a second wife, but to secure a stable rule, they needed a stable bloodline. The Westerosi would come to see that in time, she was certain of it. And her father was so beloved by the people, surely any grumblings would pass quickly.

The reality of the situation made itself apparent far too quickly. Rhaena and Aegon were wed and sent out to visit their realm in celebration. She had been barred from riding Dreamfyre as her husband had yet to claim his own dragon. She had been despondent at first until both Samantha and a new favorite friend, Alayne Royce, reminded her it meant more time together. Aegon had not even blinked at his wife’s request to have both women accompany them, day and night. Yet, as the days and weeks wore on it became readily apparent just how unforgivable Westeros found their union to be. The foursome found fewer moments to laugh, grew more fearful with each days’ travel. There was a deepness to the anger, a danger to the judging eyes. It was no longer a question of it but of when it would spill over to violence.

A Song Of Ice And Fire : The Swords And Stars

as high as honor enters the chat

A Song of Ice and Fire - the Blackfyre Rebellion

House Tully

“Sister.”

Ravella stopped in the corridor, the tiny voice squeaking in the silence, reverberating off the damp, cold walls. Her heart jumped to her throat at being found; it thudded still at being called sister. It took a moment to clear the pain from her face, even after all these years.

“Yes, Ronn?” The petite brunette turned, dark and sensible navy woolen skirts brushed against the stone walls. Her face was poised, emotionless, though her muscles twitched at the effort.

“Where are you going?” The little boy peaked out from the doorway of his chambers and rubbed at his eyes. It was late, far too late for the little heir to be awake. Ravella had snuck in to watch him sleep for a few minutes but, it seemed, she had awakened the boy.

“To bed, which is where you should be, little one.” She returned to his side and knelt, her hand cupped to his plump cheek. There was sleep in his eyes; she gently cleared it away with her other hand. His hair was much like hers, though tightly curled, his eyes though were a deep blue unlike her own, unlike their mother’s. Rhialta would admonish her for trekking to her brother’s room like this yet again. What servants see they wag their tongue about. The constant reminder echoed in her mind. But there were no servants here, not now. The corridor was quiet enough to hear vermin scurrying behind the walls.

“Tell me a story.” He whined through a yawn as he yanked his head away from her ministrations.

“Once upon a time a little boy went to bed without complaining.” She smiled softly, her hand moving to his shoulder to pat and turn him back towards his bed.

“Not that one.” He grew defiant, his eyes fluttering with only half-feigned contempt. The defiance was short lived as he took a stumbling step forward.

Ravella giggled quietly as she rose to follow him back towards his bed, her hand on his back to guide him forward. “This little boy knew that one day, he would rule the Riverlands. He had to grow big and strong to sit the high seat, to pass wise and fair judgements. But to grow big and strong, he knew he had to go to bed and sleep sweet dreams each night.” Ronnel climbed into bed and she tucked him in beneath layers of blankets and furs. “Good night…brother.” She bent to brush her lips against his forehead with a sigh. She could hear his soft snores before she had taken two steps away from his bed.

---

Medgar’s muffled groans signaled that the lord had risen for the day. A servant outside the door inhaled deeply, as if to savor the final moment before attending to his lord. Within Riverrun’s Lord’s chambers, the large bed dominated the room. Massive trouts leapt from the bedposts. With each shift the current lord made, the entire bed trembled and groaned in response. Medgar struggled to pull himself up to a seated position, thin but grubby lips pressed tightly in the effort. His eyes were crusted shut. From the servant’s perspective it was as it a giant catfish flailed about on land. Then the smell hit, a few more steps in. A rancid, sulfuric,stomach turning scent. The Lord Tully had shit the bed, again.

The servant stopped midstep. “Have the tub readied, milord will need a bath this morning before breakfast. Find fresh linens as well, and some scented oils for sevens’ sake.” He whispered the sharp commands to the small boy at his side. A little lad from some pissant Riverlands’ house who had the great misfortune of serving as a page in the Tully household.

It took four men to lift Medgar from his soiled bed and into the readied tub. No matter that he was cleansed, a sickly sweet smell clung to the man. The exertion of the morning was too much for the lord and breakfast instead was brought to the rooms. A dozen soft boiled eggs - peeled as Medgar would eat the shells in his haste, rashers of soft cooked bacon, fat greasy sausages, crispy fried trout, pureed turnip with a massive lump of butter, honey cakes and cream cakes. All was washed down with copious amounts of ale. Medgar rarely appeared drunk, whether due to his size or the amount of food to soak up the alcohol was a running discussion amongst Riverruns’ inhabitants.

Lord Tully belched loudly. “No guests today.” The first words he had formed, several hours after waking. His steward had joined him at the end of breaking his fast. Few could stomach watching the man eat for long.

“My lord, there is one matter most pressing. Unless you would like the council to address it?” He asked a question he was certain of the answer to. Yet it was only proper to maintain the charade. Rumors swirled, even with half the realm removed to Summerhall. In Kermit’s long rule he had made few errors and done much to mend together the disparate houses of the Riverlands after so much destruction. In just a few years, the foundation was cracked and flooded. The steward knew it, the council knew it. House Tully, now like trout in an ever-evaporating pond, flailing for breath.

Medgar made a small movement with his flabby hand, waving off the suggestion. “Not today. Handle it.” He moaned suddenly, both hands pressing into the rolls of his abdomen. His eyes squeezed shut, sweat formed at his receding hairline before dripping down his face. “Send in the servants, I have need of them again.”

The steward bowed his head and quickly backtracked from the room. The servant from the morning stood waiting outside the doorway. “Lord Medgar has need of a chamber pot, make haste.”

The Maester met him at the end of the corridor. “A shame our lord cannot join us. You’ve seen the messages, what shall we tell the rest of the council?” His concern was unconvincing, but it needn’t be.

“That it is just rumors. Have we had any word from Merrett or does he continue to evade us?” He spoke quietly. Merrett had disappeared from the Riverlands years ago and refused all contact. They thought he was perhaps married with children, with sons. The heir was but a small boy with questionable parentage, Merrett was a solution or a threat. The steward and maester were not sure which, yet.

“None, though we believe him to be in the Crownlands now, a guest of House Stokeworth.”

The steward mulled it over briefly. “Too far, he will be gone before we get anyone in place. It would have been too easy had he gone to Summerhall, damn the man.” The pair made their way to the council chambers, a nest of intrigue and shifting alliances without anyone to keep them in line or focused. The Riverlands bent beneath the weight of its incompetent lord.

A Song of Ice and Fire - the Blackfyre Rebellion

House Tully of Riverrun

Family, Duty, Honor

House Description:

Info

House Tully rose to prominence during Aegon's Conquest, when Lord Edmyn Tully led the rebel riverlords who deserted Harren Hoare, King of the Isles and the Rivers, and instead supported House Targaryen. Following the burning of Harrenhal, Edmyn was rewarded with dominion over the riverlands by Aegon I Targaryen as the first Lord Paramount of the Trident. Despite being their new liege lords, the Tullys fielded smaller armies than the Blackwoods, Brackens, Freys, and Vances. House Tully was also not as wealthy as the Mootons, nor considered as prestigious as the Mallisters.

One of Edmyn's daughters married Lord Quenton Qoherys of Harrenhal, while Edmyn himself served two years as Hand of the King to Aegon the Conqueror, the first King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. King Aenys I Targaryen relied on the Tullys during the rebellion of Harren the Red, and King Maegor I Targaryen was supported by the Tullys and the Harroways against Prince Aegon Targaryen in the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye. The Tullys later supported Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen against Maegor. Lord Prentys Tully served Jaehaerys I as master of laws, while his wife, Lady Lucinda Tully, led the household for Queen Alysanne Targaryen.

In 101 AC during the Great Council, Lord Grover Tully spoke in favor of Prince Viserys Targaryen over Laenor Velaryon as the successor to Jaehaerys I. During the Dance of the Dragons, the Tullys ruled over, in name at least, the quarrelsome riverlords. The aged Lord Grover wanted to support the greens, but his grandson Elmo and great-grandson Kermit supported the blacks. Elmo led the riverlords to battle on the side of Rhaenyra during the Second Battle of Tumbleton. His grandfather died soon after, and Elmo himself followed his grandfather to the grave forty-nine days later. His young son Kermit led the Lads and slew Lord Borros Baratheon in the Battle of the Kingsroad. Kermit's brother, Ser Oscar Tully, founded the Stormbreakers.

Riverrun is the ancestral castle of House Tully, the Lords Paramount of the Trident. It is situated in the western riverlands, at the confluence of the Tumblestone and Red Fork rivers. Riverrun is north of Pinkmaiden and northwest of Acorn Hall. The castle sits along the river road, an easy ride which links Lannisport and the crossroads. It is a strong three-sided castle, although not especially large. It is a tenth the size of Harrenhal.Riverrun is bordered on the north by the Tumblestone and on the south by the Red Fork, while on the west a third side faces a massive man-made ditch. In time of danger the sluice gates can be opened to fill a wide moat and leave the castle surrounded on all three sides by water, turning Riverrun into an island and leaving it practically unassailable. It commands a view of many leagues.

The riverlands is a central region of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, consisting of the rich, fertile, and populous areas around the three forks of the Trident and the northern Blackwater Rush. At the time of Aegon's Conquest the riverlands and the Iron Islands were ruled by House Hoare, the Kings of the Isles and the Rivers, although native river kings ruled centuries earlier.

Because of their central position in Westeros and lack of natural boundaries, the riverlands have been a frequent battleground. The people of the riverlands are known as "rivermen" or occasionally "riverlanders", and they are a mixture of hardy warriors, peaceful fisherfolk and devout smallfolk. Their lords have a reputation for being notoriously quarrelsome, and are referred to as "river lords". Noble bastards born in the riverlands are given the surname Rivers.

The riverlands are ruled from Riverrun by House Tully, the Lords Paramount of the Trident. Notable houses of the region have included Blackwood, Bracken, Darry, Frey, Lothston, Mallister, Mooton, Mudd, Piper, Ryger, Strong, Vance, and Whent.

Recent History:

Lord Kermit ruled the Riverlands through the end of the Dance into general prosperity and peace, at least for the riverlands. While his bannermen held greater wealth or could call up more men, Kermit sought to bind them through marriage and respect. The quarrelsome Brackens and Blackwoods would remain a thorn in his side, yet with his own marriage and those of his children, he kept the peace even through the tumultuous reign of Aegon IV.

House Tully, though, has cracked beyond easy repair. Some smallfolk say it is a curse from the woman Ser Oscar left behind when he left for Essos. With the death of two sons, grandsons, and a son to take the black, House Tully was left to a man most unfit to rule. While Lord Kermit could have done more, perhaps, he was still a father with too much faith in his son. Naming Medgar as heir was perhaps Kermit’s greatest error in his long reign. Plenty pay lip service to their liege lord or peer, but few can claim to actually respect the man. Many hope, some in secret, some blatantly, that a young Ronnel inherits with his uncle Merrett as regent.

Family Members:

• Lord Medgar Tully
• Lady Rhialta Tully (nee Manderly)
• Lady Ravella Tully
• Ronnel Tully, a boy of 6 and heir to Riverrun
• Ser Merrett the Mild, the youngest of Kermit's sons, currently at Stokeworth
• Garth Rivers

---

Lord Tully

Medgar Tully

Lord Paramount of the Riverlands
Medgar the Massive
The Fleshy Fish

Age: 62 (born 140AC)

Appearance:

Lord Tully’s weight cannot be overstated. Now approaching his elder years, he is frequently unable to carry himself more than a few steps, instead requiring servants to carry him to another room when he needs to leave his chambers. While he has earned his moniker, some of his other contorsions are due to the mysterious ailment no maester was able to diagnose. His eyes, once sparkly blue, are sunk into his face. His skin is either greasy with sweat or dry and flaking. He bears a perpetual look of self-disgust.

Description & biography:

Medgar was never supposed to be Lord Paramount. At times it seems as though it were his first memory. He never cared for his studies with the septon, maester, nor armsmaster. He cared little for women, never wished to wed, never wished to spread his seed nor sire children. He was a sickly child who grew into a rotund adolescent and never stopped widening into his adulthood. Nothing else could sate him like a hot meat pie, or glistening slices of fatty goose. He had no natural gifts, no ambition. He often hoped the ailments that plagued him would take him. Yet Malwyn died and he lived. Mordyn died and he lived still. His father told him to go to Oldtown, to take a vow to the Seven, to take the fucking Black.

Medgar had no desire to rule, but he had less of a desire to do anything at all. Surely he too would die and Myles would inherit. Instead, it was Myles forced to take the Black for accidentally killing his betrothed’s cousin. Instead, it was Medgar who wed Rhialta Manderly. He would marry the woman, or he too would take the black. Marriage was less work than traveling that far north to be that cold all the time. He married her but would not put a child in her. His wife, to anyone paying attention, was faithful to her duties. She attended him several times a week in his bedchambers. Not many months after their wedding, she gave birth to Ravella.

Some talked and made suggestions, yet as a daughter, with one remaining son able to inherit after Medgar, the talk remained whispered only. Issues over inheritance only came to a head again when young Ronnel appeared at court in 197AC. Though Rhialta had faithfully shared her husband’s chambers once per month, no other child had ever grown in her until the year she had disappeared with Ravella.

Medgar paid no attention to any of it. When his father died in 190AC he stayed in his rooms for nearly a month. He received visitors and bannermen reluctantly. Yet those who managed to see him found him to be easily manipulated, if also petulant and petty. His ambitious lords, his nefarious lords, were quick to take advantage. The Riverlands, which his father had done so much to build and care for for decades, began to crack and crumble. Medgar’s advisors, those that remained, do what they can to patch the damage inflicted by a negligent lord.

Most notably, though many of his bannermen made their way to Summerhall at the invitation of the Targaryen prince, Medgar did not want to attend, nor did he want his family to go and return with more petitions. All were barred from attending.

The River Maiden

Ravella Tully

Age: 28 (born 174AC)

Appearance:

Ravella is short, with few of the Tully characteristics. She shares much with her mother, hair dark but devoid of all but a glimmer of red, her eyes a warm chestnut, not blue. It would be hard to find Medgar anywhere within her pleasant features or mannerisms. Because of her mother’s influence, she is reserved in her dress.

Description & biography:

While Ravella’s birth may have cast doubts on her parentage, she was largely shielded from it as a child. Her grandsire, Lord Kermit, ensured she received a proper upbringing as her father would not. She spent years of her early adolescence touring the Tully bannerman houses, to strengthen ties through friendship with the river lords’ daughters or sisters. Her mother’s religious zeal for the Faith was never distant, and though she was present in her daughter’s life, she sought to influence her daughter to a chaste life, to join the Faith as she wished she had.

Kermit would not hear of it, and before he died, he had arranged a good match for the girl with one of Lord Darry’s sons. Lord Kermit died before the betrothal could be agreed upon in full. Medgar ignored it for months, his advisers claiming it as a period of mourning, until at last there was little they could do except send their apologies and weak excuses for why the two could not be wed. Ravella was not displeased about it, a girl of only six and ten, yet the slight her father paid his bannerman was a mark against her as well.

With her father in control of Riverrun, she found herself increasingly isolated. She no longer traveled, and her mother’s absence was felt more strongly. Rhialta would leave to tour septs or break bread with cloistered septas, leaving her daughter alone in the Riverrun’s chaotic halls. Instead, Ravella took to wandering her family’s lands. In one of these walks, she had a chance encounter, a beautiful melody of despair and longing emerged from the reeds and drew her in. The girl was besotted before she ever saw his face. Garth, her granduncle’s bastard’s bastard. She knew of him, the man who took to calling himself Ser Fishbones. With childish naivete, she thought of herself as his muse and gave in too willingly to the inappropriate affair.

While the truth of what happened remains murky, a few details were accepted by the court. A man, barely more than a commoner, was accused of being Ravella’s lover. He bled and died for the slight. Not long after, Ravella came down with an illness. Before it could become too obvious that she grew heavy with a child, Rhialta spirited her away, leaving Riverrun for nearly a year. When they returned, it was with a baby boy. Rhialta presented him at court, naming him Medgar’s son and heir to Riverrun. There were loud whispers, but Medgar would not refute the claim and his advisers were gleeful at having an heir no matter the questions it raised.

Ravella remains closer to the boy that many find typical. She keeps a small book with her, full of poetry and songs by some nameless bard, writings that bring a small smile to her lips or to cause a few tears to well up, sometimes both. Now passing twenty-eight namedays, she has resigned herself to a life of solitude and of the being the river maiden.

Fishbones by Sini

Garth Rivers

Age: 37 (born 165AC)

Appearance:

attractive bastard

Description & biography:

Ser Oscar Tully had always liked to cast his rod and bait among the realm’s women, usually reeling in quite the catch. There were few enough whom he thought of a week after, yet the rake had made sure that Edmyn (Garth’s father) was recognised his son. Then, he abandoned him for his Essosi adventures and life as a mercenary captain. The boy grew up to be a chip off the old block: proud, wont to fight and fuck. In true emulation of his sire, he himself begot a son – and possibly more – out of wedlock. Edmyn’s bastardised Tully charm won him a taste of Gysella Cox, with another apple not falling far from the tree.

Garth was born a right bastard (a bastard’s bastard even – and so a bastard twice over), into a family riven by disaster and riddled with discord. Gone were the days of ease and comfort brought about by Kermit’s deft rule and Oscar’s martial prowess. As Kermit’s years advanced, his judgment waned, naming the least suited of his progeny heir. To be fair to the Old Lad, there was little in the way of proper candidates as scandal and misfortune sheared House Tully of its finest members. The intricate web woven through marriages and diplomacy frayed, and the friendships and glories of the past were ignored.

Growing up on the periphery of Riverrun’s court allowed Garth more liberties than most. From a young age he read as much as he played, often sneaking out with one of the Maester’s books to read on the riverbank. His favourites were compendia of bardic prose and minstrel’s songs which prompted an adolescent squire to start compiling texts of his own. The words Garth commits to paper speak of a surprisingly old soul feeling deeply about the world. These revelations were never intended for an audience other than himself, and the only occasions when the words were sung was when he lounged by himself in the sun among the reeds.

Garth was restless if not rebellious and wild, leaving the white walls of the Tully keep behind him as he traipsed the countryside… but only after having stirred up trouble and mischief. Slippery as an eel, Garth complied with whatever punishment was doled out when caught. However, there was not much which could apparently touch him. Though there was one who managed to pluck the strings of his heart… and breeches.

Illicit affairs cause great excitement, and Ravella and he tasted of forbidden fruit in the pursuit of delight. They were one another’s escape from Medgar’s gloom and dourness creeping from the stone and mortar of Riverrun. To Garth, their ongoing torrid tryst is a vital adventure, and the fact that Rhialta became involved in the conspiracy only added to the thrill.

Because of his status as a bastard, and the aloof attitude of Medgar and his advisers, Garth changed the inverted Tully arms into those of a fish carcass. He participated in local tourneys as Ser Fishbones and greedily gobbled up the antipathy it conjured up. It was one way of making up for the lack of attention he received as a child. Garth’s innate melancholy goes hidden behind a mask of mirth.