Full name: Lord Uncle Count Favrin Halldon Weade Titles: Count. Also called Lord Uncle in some cases for he is Uncle to the Lord Regent. Social rank: Royalty. Uncle to the Regent. Societal position: Count Favrin rules over a small town, Roansville, about a ride's distance away from the Keep. Age: 47 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: Baron Favrin is a stern man to all who know him. He rarely speaks unless he had something to say. He thinks before he speaks or acts. He is very loyal to Whitelands and would do anything for the demesne. After the death of his brother Rikard, Favrin has because even more reticent and some whisper that he'll eventually turn into a recluse. For all his fallibles, Favrin likes to enjoy life. Usually with his wife behind closed doors or riding across the country side on his horse. History: Favrin was born two years after Rikard. The two were close brothers. Favrin always did whatever his elder brother did. They resented each other, but the two stayed close friends. For while Rikard would be Duke, Favrin would be free to pursue what truly made him happy. When the two boys were teens they pursued the same noble woman, Catryn, niece to the former Queen of Borhilon, one of the most beautiful women in the demesne. But Catryn choose Rikard over Favrin. The two had a large falling out over the event. It wasn't until Favrin was in his early twenties that he sought to repair their relationship at the urging of their ailing father. Shortly after their father died the two became friends again. Favrin set up his mother on his lands at Roansville. The town was noted for the beautiful roan trees and the crafts men were hailed across Borhilon. When Favrin was entering his Thirties, much to the joy of his mother, he finally married Baroness, now Countess, Vivian Athos. Vivian is a distant relation to the Athos' in the Falkhalls. They meet when Favrin was travelling the lands of the Kingdom. Vivian and Favrin had two sons. Both are in their early twenties now. One, Corbin, is with the Heir serving under the King. The other, Davin, is currently visiting with his mother her family in the Falkhalls. Skills: Favrin is a skilled woodsman, hunter, politician, and warrior. Dreams and fears: Favin has many dreams. Most of all he dreams of travelling Borhilon again before he grows too old. He dreams of grandchildren. He wants a stable land where his children can grow up safe and secure. He fears that the civil unrest will cause hardship to fall upon his family, both immediate and on his nephews. He also fears his aging mother will soon die. He fears his eldest son will die in battle so far from home. Favored equipment: Weapons are: a long bow, and a bastard sword, and more often a pen and a carefully placed word. Extra: See The Weade's Coat of Arms.

Full name: Vivian Athos Weade Titles: Countess Social rank: Noble Job or societal position: Countess (She has no Job) Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: The Countess is a romantic at heart. She grew up wanting to marry a prince and live happily ever after. However, being a daughter of a minor noble meant that would never happen. Not only that, she was the second daughter. Any dreams she had of a perfect happily ever after would never happen. As Vivian aged she learned how to deal with disappointment. Her elder sister was married off at the age of seventeen to a man thrice her age. Vivian, knowing it was her turn next, knew she would never find love. So it was even more a surprise to her when Favrin came to visit their part of the land. Vivian was fourteen at the time and Favrin was twenty four. Yet the two found each other. To Vivian he was a beautiful knight come to whisk her away. She loved to hear him talk of his home back in the north. After a few weeks Favrin left, but he promised to return the next year and wed her when she was come of age. When he returned he did indeed marry her and he took her to his home. Abet slowly, for the two toured the vast lands of the Kingdom. They even stayed in the capital for a spell. By the time the two made it to Roansoak Vivian was showing with her first child. As soon as he was born she knew he'd be a soldier like his father. His younger brother, Davin, however was a more sedate child. Though the second pregnancy was very hard on her and they decided not to have anymore children, just to be on the safe side. Skills: Sewing, Embroidery, Reading and Writing and managing a household. Dreams and fears: Vivian dreams mainly of grandchildren. She keeps shoving eligible women towards her sons. Vivian fears Favrin and Corbin dying in battle. Favored equipment: None Extra: None

Full name: Corbin Favrin Weade Titles: None yet Social rank: Noble Job or societal position: Soldier/ Captain Age: 21 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: Corbin is a fierce individual. He has very strong opinions and rarely hesitates to tell other people. The only people he watches his mouth around is his father, mother, and the Duke (or now Gregar for the time being.) He strongly believes in the right to rule through arms and strength. He one day hopes to help the overthrow the Ironhills and become the Duke there. While growing up Corbin got into loads of trouble, often dragging in his little brother too. The two didn't often get along, but then they did they were little hellions. Corbin always knew he wanted to be a warrior like his father. As soon as he was able to hold a sword his father began training him. He feels that he's one of the best swordsmen around and doesn't hesitate to fight people stronger than him to prove it. Corbin isn't as loyal as his father to the Duke's line. However his ambition isn't set upon the Whitelands, but further south. He actually hopes the King might one day recognize him and give unto him one of the King's daughters. And the title of Duke of course. Skills: Fighting, brawling, drinking and "sporting". Dreams and fears: Corbin dreams of being a Duke and a very important man to the King. He fears old age. Favored equipment:A long sword. His horse and his dagger. Extra: See The Weade's Coat of Arms

Full name: Davin Athos Weade Titles: None Social rank: Noble Job or societal position: Age: 19 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: Skills: Dreams and fears: Favored equipment: Extra:

Full name: Gabbi Ann (No last name. See History for explination) Titles: "Hey you" "Girl" Social rank: Peasant Job: Servant/ Cleaning Girl, Spy for Duke Favrin Age: 19 Gender: Female Appearance: Gabbi is of average height. She has long dirty blond hair and light brown eyes. Personality: Gabbi is a very simple girl. She was raised in Baron's Favrin's home as a serving girl. When she was still young he recommended her to the Keep. She's a studious worker and tries very hard to please her masters. Most of the time she keeps her head down and says nothing. A very good skill as no one tends to notice her. History: Gabbi was found abandoned by one of the servants at Roansville. They were going to pass her off to the church but instead she was taken in by the cook, Lucinda, who had just miscarried. She raised the girl like her own. Gabbi however was never allowed to take Lucinda's name. She had to live with the stigma of being unwanted. This contributed to her inability to deal with people. When she was barely a young girl the Baroness noticed her. Gabbi had been cleaning when the Baron and Baroness had made everyone leave the room, and Gabbi had failed to escape in time. Gabbi ended up hiding, so she wouldn't get spotted and beaten. Taking pity on the girl, the Baroness said nothing, but kept an eye on her. Eventually she brought Gabbi to her Husband's attention. The two agreed that she was quite unnoticeable. After that the Baroness devised a series of tests for the girl to test her intelligence, or at least her capacity for remembrance. Gabbi passed with flying colors. The Baron decided to plant her in his brother's household to keep and eye on things. There she has been ever since, working as a cleaning girl. Once a month she passes along what she learned to the Baron. Otherwise she just keeps to herself. Skills: Gabbi is very good at cleaning. She is also good at not being noticed and listening in to "hushed" conversations. She isn't very good at speaking and interacting with people. Dreams and fears: Gabbi dreams of one day being the Lady's Maid in Waiting. Gabbi fears that people will talk to her and she must talk back. Taking orders are one thing, it's quite another to make small talk. She's okay with Favrin because she just has to repeat back what she's heard, not really think for herself. Favored equipment: Bucket of water and a rag. Extra: None

Full name: Freyja Haraldsdottir Titles: Jarl, The Black Mane Social rank: Jarl? Highborn? I suppose. Job or societal position: Chieftess, Raiding party leader Age: 19 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Freyja stands proud amongst her kin as a great leader and warrior, well respected and liked by her followers. And in turn, she cares greatly for her own warriors and family, keeping their needs and concerns in legitimate thought while planning future moves and actions. Those that join her warband are surprised by this attitude more often than not, as it hardly strikes most folk as how a leader might treat her subordinates, let alone those that might be in fairly menial positions. However, this caring attitude does not extend outside her own, coming across as a ruthless and completely intimidating warrioress. Completely without remorse, pity, or fear on the field of battle and politics, Freyja carries with herself an air of unstoppable, unforgettable power and authority that does not just command respect, it demands it and wrenches it from those around her without a care for consent. Her drive to reach her goals and desires in life, and the ruthless efficiency that she pursues them with, is a potent thing indeed. History: Freyja Haraldsdottir, the Blackmane herself, was born to rather simple and humble origins, especially considering the name she would make for herself, in due time. Born to the land of warriors and raiders, the mighty nation known to the foreigners as Andals, as her inhabitants had little need to name the coalition of villages and keeps that made up the land and organized front that it presented to other nations. Many heroes of legend, and raiders of infamy, were born here, and it is of little surprise one such as Freyja would hail from here. Her father was a known chieftain of a tribe, one that was generally well off and well received and respected by their peers. She never knew her mother, for such was the birthing that it slew her mother in the effort. Without a mother figure, Freyja was raised as a warrior and raider by her father, following in his own footsteps and was to be expected, at some point, to take the place of her aging father as Chieftain of the tribe. This was for the sole fact that the aging man had no son to pass the title on to, and determined himself to raising her as a warrior and son as much as a daughter. Growing up had been harsh on Freyja initially, more so as the daughter of the chieftain then anything else. Everyone expected far more out of her than your average daughter in the tribe would have been expected to have been. A lesser woman might have buckled under that pressure, but Freyja was destined for great things. Going out on every raid and dual of honor between villages that she could, the respect of her peers was fast won, and even other villages would speak of the warrioress that seemed unstoppable in fury, but was beloved by those she served with. In due time, her skill as a warrioress would never be in question, raiding parties and warbands openly seeking her talent whenever she was available. However, her father grew ill as a raid upon the Whitelands grew nigh, and she was asked by her father to take command and lead the raid. While this would be her first foray into such places, she accepted without a moments hesitation, marshalling the band of raiders and warriors into highly drilled and even more talented formations than normal and off the band went into the Whitelands, to raid and pillage for glory and spoils. The band went from town to town, raiding and razing the places before moving on, staying ahead of any retribution that might be following after them. The band even was able to find and sack a place of holy significance to the Whitelands, a holy site that was left charred and devoid of anything useful or valuable. Freyja’s first leadership test was a resounding success, and she came back to her home in glory and celebration, but when she tried to find her father, the old man had passed while she had been raiding. Celebration tempered by mourning and duty, Freyja had set out burning and mourning the man who raised her and preparing for her own new duties she would be assuming. For three years Jarl Freyja would keep the hounds at bay, lording over her holdings with a fair, firm grasp that was well received by the people who lived under her banner, even if those surrounding her land did not agree so keenly on the matter. For three years, the walls held out the solidifying coalition of other tribes and leaders who wanted the lands and people of the land for their own devices, and for three years she gave little ground, but was indeed slowly pushed back and constricted by the weight of being so vastly outnumbered, even if one of her warriors was worth dozens of the enemies. With her people and army in ruins, Freyja had few options. Allow herself to be captured or slain in combat, and suffer whatever indignities and horrors that would be inflicted should she be captured by the jealous lords surrounding her, or she could flee. And Freyja chose to take a solitary longboat, sixty three of her people, and a handful of slaves and thralls before escaping with them. It was a hard journey across the sea, fleeing from the land she had been born to and defended and fought for fiercely, but she had little recourse in the matter. Finally landing back in the Whitelands, Freyja laid down the foundations for a fortified camp without a moments wasted time, hurrying to be able to defend against any vultures or enemies that might attack and pick at the remains of her people. A local noble thought the harried and outnumbered heathens would be easy prey, but after the first battle, was clearly wrong. Now that he was stuck in such a fight, he had little choice but to see it out, and eventually ended up in captivity of Freyja, whom now awaited the other foot to fall. For other foreigners to come demanding the release of the fool nobleman and the offers of bail and whatever else they might have to speak to the exiled Jarl about. Skills: Diplomacy, Tactics, Ground Combat, Leadership, Talented Musician, Intimidation, and goat herding/keeping. Dreams and fears: She dreams of being everyone elses fear, a unstoppable force on the face of the world, revered and honored in glory. She fears becoming nothing, nothing more than a benchmark in time. Favored equipment: (From closest to the skin to the outermost layer) The first thing she puts on is under garments obviously followed by shirt and pants made of wool and a pair of thick leather boots. next comes her leather vest and forearm guards, this is followed by a chainmail hauberk with a thick leather belt, and finally a set of iron shoulder plates. She carries a bearded axe single handed, and a round viking shield, as a backup weapon she carries a seax in her belt. Warhorn Extra: She has a longboat Soldiers, 15 Militia Spearmen 5 Archers 5 Long Axe Men 8 Hirdsmen 30 Rowers (These count as basic militia, clubs shields, some axes.) Theme Song

Full name: Rufus Tallow Rossric Titles: Lord of Forkland, "Root", Rufus the Resolute Social rank: Nobleman, Upper Class Job or societal position: Possesses inherent reign over the southern demesne Forkland; sits upon the Tallow Throne in the Fordkeep, in the centre of Forkland. Age: 38 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: Rufus is a calm, content, and critical man. If engaged in conversation or seen about the keep he would strike you as a particularly peaceful person who assesses his own words with care and commitment. He is thoughtful at all times and, when left alone, often forgets his place and let's his mind wander to all sorts of places. Rufus is deeply religious and lives by the theism that has been exclusive to his family for years. The teachings that come from what he believes are that of peace, prosperity, and fairness. The religion in question has been a part of his family line for centuries, originating from lands far away. He does not force his beliefs on his people, or anyone for that matter, however it is known that many of the Forklandish share in the same deity. To those who know him best - his family and the workers of his household - he is kind and compassionate, always looking out for the troubled, sick, and hungry. This side of him, however, he does not let his subjects see, for he believes that a strong rule is maintained by a little anonymity between the people and the power; moreover, he sees his kindness as a weakness that his enemies should never be given the chance to exploit. To the people of his land, contrary to the people of his household, Rufus is a strong leader, and rules with a firm, but fair, iron fist. His judgement is sound and resolved and all actions, whether it be for his people or against his enemies, is resolute. History: Born Rufus Tallow Rossric he grew up in a family of pure noble blood. As a child and a teen, he studied relentlessly, and trained even more so. His only brother, Louis, is five years his younger and follows Rufus with great loyalty. When Rufus was at the age of ten both of his parents passed away within weeks of each other due to a fever that killed within a month. Their deaths shocked Rufus, but not as much as they devastated Louis. For the remaining six years until he could take the Tallow Throne, his uncle acted as Regent Lord of Forkland - when Rufus was of age, his uncle willingly handed over the thrown to travel across the continent to marry his spouse, and has not been heard of since he left. Twenty-two years has passed since Rufus gained the Tallow Thrown and the land has never known a more peaceful time. To the people, this is good, but to any man educated to the extent of Rufus, it's clear that this is merely the calm before a storm. Skills: Rufus is very proficient in horse riding and spends the majority of his spare time involved in the sport. His keep alone owns just under fifty horses, and hundreds more roam the demesne, both wild and tamed. He also studies regularly on subjects ranging from astrology a,d philosophy, to other languages and history. He has a strong belief that wisdom is the greatest of all predicates. He has trained with a longsword since he could pick one up and has never attempted another weapon. Though it is not often he must use a weapon, he has trained to a standard that is comparable amongst Lords. Dreams and fears: Rufus dreams only of continuing his reign as peacefully as it has been so far - to maintain prosperity amongst his people is a rule he lives by, and to let his country fall into war and fire would be to shame his family. Interestingly enough, his fear is the polar opposite of his dream. Favored equipment: Rufus possesses a number of well-made longswords, as well as finely tailored horse saddles and stirrups. His wears light armour when needed as he prefers to dodge and evade danger as a pose to risking it full on. Extra: Rufus, aside from loving horses, also owns a household dog named Strap, a large greyhound-esque pedigree. Strap is often by Rufus' side.

Full name: Briala “Bri” Chesfield Titles: Lord’s Huntsman (Prefers Lord’s Huntswoman. In some cases behind her back she is called Gregar’s mistress, whether true or not is and likely forever shall be up for debate.) Social rank: Minor Nobility Job or societal position: Hunter, tracker, protector of the Lord’s lands and occasionally the Lord himself. (Tasked with a wide range of duties such as protecting the townsfolk from dangerous animals, leading hunts for the nobility, and tracking down bandits and would be poachers) Age: 26 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Briala is generally fairly quiet and reserved especially when at court, preferring to observe much as she would in the wilderness. She isn’t afraid to speak her mind when the need arises even to those placed far above her; this put her at odds with many of the dignitaries and courtiers at times. When she is amongst townsfolk she becomes much more herself, her unique position allowing her the best of both worlds. She picks up a much more familiar manner of speech, becoming noticeably friendlier and is often found spending time at the tavern with all manner of folks. Even then though she has Winterhouse’s best interests in mind, the tavern has forever been the first place to pick up rumours and happenings on the road. History: Briala spent her early years in Wintershouse, her father was the Lord Huntsmen, as was his father and his father before him, each serving whichever Lord Weade reigned at the time. Growing up she was given a good education due to her father’s high standing and the grace of Lord Rikard, often alongside the Lord’s son Gregar. Although she wasn’t taught any of the weapon skills he learnt. Fortunately Briala’s elder brother, Jediah taught her the archery and hunting skills he learnt from their father. Before long she outshone him during their secret hunting trips, she’d be the one to bring down the most kills, first birds, the rabbits and all manner of small creature eventually even the rare deer. Jediah claimed the spoils as his due to their secrecy; Briala didn’t mind she merely enjoyed the hunt. Unfortunately due to Jediah’s seeming prowess he was sent out to scout for boar alone their father would lead the hunt the next day, in honour of Lady Elisandre’s arrival there would be a hunt. Briala was unable to get out of Wintershouse, she had been trained to be Elisandre’s one of ladies-in-waiting, though she despised the though. The memory of their shared education and his kindness lingered in her mind. The next day when the hunting party road out Jediah wasn’t at the meeting place, yet their father found his trail and followed it to its end. They found her brother, dead, bow in hand, gored by the very boar he was hunting. Soon after when Gregar was married to his beautiful bride, Elisandre, Briala took to the woods stealing one of her father’s bows and enough furs to survive the harsh weather. The death of her brother and seeming loss of the man she loved driving her into the wilderness, after the creature who took all from her. After three days, searching the townspeople and her father assumed she died of the cold. But she did not die; she thrived in fact, finally free to roam. After much searching she found the great boars trail leading up into the mountains, she followed it doggedly. Until finally she found the beast’s lair, and slew the beast, it took three arrows to the head before it went down, managing to score her leg. She made her way back limping, but managed to tow the beast behind her all the way back to the town much to the awe of the townsfolk, it had been eight days by now. She was celebrated as a minor hero, and when asked how she did it she simply stated, “It was not me, it was my brother”. The only one she told the truth to was her father, who in turn told Lord Rikard and requested she be taught as his apprentice, since the spot was open and she clearly had a gift. Her father found there was not much left to teach her and when Rikard left for war he went to loyal as ever, leaving her in charge. When news of Rikard’s death came through she feared for her father, though no one knew either way. She was however made Duke Gregar’s Huntswoman despite him being off fighting, because tradition said that each new lord must have new Huntsmen. Now she struggles with the intrigues of court and the increasing number of ex-soldiers turned bandit roaming the land. Skills: Marksmanship, tracking and hunting, wilderness survival. Dreams and fears: Briala dreams of becoming the best archer and hunter in the land always improving and practicing. Also dreams of travelling to distant lands and hunting exotic game. Fears the loss of the war and her father’s death, having lost her brother already. Although she would never admit it she fears Gregar falling in battle too. Favored equipment: A longbow, and a belt quiver that was once her father’s many who see her with it doubt she can use it proficiently but she soon proves them wrong once the first arrow flies. A long skinning knife for personal defence as well as utility. A leather belt with many pouches full of all sorts of things from medicinal herbs to equipment for trapping. For armour she wears a light leather vest and leggings most of the time for movement, she has a heavier version for if she ever ends up in a protracted battle. Also wears a heavy fur cloak, year round to keep her from freezing in the field and protect her bow from the weather. Extra: Has an old family insignia of two mountains peaks with a trail running between them, although she barely uses it herself. Has a dog named Hairy so named by the stable boy that raised him, more of a hunting partner than pet to her.