[hider=Fyren Lannister]
[b]Name[/b]: Fyren Lannister

[b]Age[/b]: 22

[b]Gender[/b]: Male

[b]House[/b]: Lannister, at least in name, if not in wealth and status. 

[b]Appearance[/b]: The famous associations with his distant cousins are not present in Fyren's appearance, save for his green eye colour. He's not as tall as some with the same name. His  hair is not gold at all, but coal black, soft and cut short. He is beardless, always. He couldn't grow a proper beard even if he wanted to. Luckily, he is not ugly. A girl might even call him handsome here and there. His nose is long and straight, his cheek get red in the sun, his eyebrows are thin just as his lips are full, and his forehead is high. He can't boast of any visible scars, a mere stripling in that gang of ragged veterans. Perhaps he's got a bit skinny, but that is to be expected of a depressed sellsword on constant march, although he started well-fed and strong. Most importantly, he only has his left eye. The right he lost foolishly in a game of dice. He often bears himself oddly because of that blind spot, turning his head left and right in such a way that one would think he's looking for someone or afraid of something. Perhaps that is not too far from the truth. He cloaks himself often, even when it's hot, and his hand often reaches for the hilt on its own, right there where the worn out image of a lion can barely be seen anymore.

[b]Personality[/b]: Fyren does not ask too many personal questions and he prefers it when others treat him the same. There is something about inquisitiveness that rubs him the wrong way. He has no problems with orders and commands. He is a hard worker and obeys his superiors with utmost diligence. Those orders that are within reason, that is. Criminality and sadism, while he is ready to overlook it and turn his eye away when his comrades are engaged in it, is not something you will see him stoop to. Fyren is also quick to love and forgive, which might be a bad thing in a sellsword; but it is that very love that would make him give up his life for any of his friends and companions, a hundred times if he could and had to. That is not to say that he is free of vices, far from it. Drink and dice is what brought him across the Narrow Sea, ultimately. Now he only drinks; gambling he despises and runs away from, but he will give coin and more than coin for any information about the 'dragon girl'.

[b]History[/b]: He was not much better off than the local bastard children growing up. His father bore the name of a famous house, but that did not do them much good. For all intents and purposes, his father was a commoner, no more noble than his commoner mother, a cold woman from the north with a good dowry left her by some generous lord she served or other. She married him because she was simple-minded, and put hopes into her husband's name even though he had nothing. (Fyren's grandfather questioned his cousin the lord one time too many and even threatened him with arms, and suddenly he had nothing except for a decrepit old house in the country where they lived. He was alive at least. 'It would be reputation, killing your own.') Tywin of course gave them alms now and that simply because of their name – or is it to mock them? – but he made it clear that they would never have anything.

And so he grew up in the decrepit old house. His father never spoke much, and his mother spent her days in regret. She loved him though, she never regretted having children. Lyra was older than Fyren. When he was 14 she left to King's Landing, 'to be a woman of faith', or whatever it was that she said. He missed her and her advice. She was always wise, his sister. And proud. And [i]cruel[/i]. Perhaps he would've ended up somewhere else had she not left? He left too a year later, after working as a guard in Lannisport, hoping for nothing and looking for nothing. He simply wanted to move away. He found a troupe of actors and entertainers in the city, on their way East, and so he decided to follow them for a while before heading to King's Landing and perhaps one of the Free Cities. 

And so on the road he got drunk one night, really drunk. A stranger head joined them somewhere along the way, an old man, gray and wrinkled, with a patch on his eye and a pouch full of gold. But his spirit was young, and he was merry and shouting, and everyone was laughing at his jokes and clapping at his stories. A charlatan , Fyren thought, or a conjurer from Essos dealing in cheap tricks. There was something odd about him, and no one could see it. And so, drunk, Fyren challenged him: a game of dice. He would take all of his money and chase him away with his sword. But he lost it all. All the money he had saved, and his golden buckle, [i]and[/i] his ornate pipe. But the man gave him a chance to regain it all. And more. Suddenly, no one was awake, and the two of them were alone by the fire, and even the fire was dying. The man somehow knew all about him, and offered him one last game: if Fyren wins, he would be the lord, and he told him the stories of golden spoons and foreign women dancing in the castle, and feasts and wild exotic beasts brought for his entertainment. If he loses though, the man takes his eye. Fyren laughed and thought the man was insane, but everything he had lost, mixed with a lot of wine, made him accept the deal, thinking it was a joke. So he cast the dice, without thinking, mumbled random numbers. And lost. A second later the man's fingers were plucking his eye out and he was screaming, but no one in the camp woke up. He was rolling in the dirt, grabbing for his sword, but the man had it. The man thanked him, and told him not to cry and whine. 'You should be the one thanking [i]me [/i]too,' he said, 'for with one eye gone you will keep the one you have left where you are supposed to keep it: on the road. I did you a favour,' he said. 'I have to go now,' he added. 'The dragon girl is far away, there's a long road in front of me. Perhaps we shall meet again.' He dropped the sword and left.

[b]Skills[/b]: 
Swimming: Fyren has never met a man who beat him in a swimming race. 
Potions: Bring him a herb and he will know its name and its use, tell him of your ache and he will recommend you one. His mother taught him that.
Literacy: He can read and write the Common Tongue.
Singing: If a song's been sung in a tavern in the Seven Kingdoms, Fyren has heard of it, and he will sing it. Too bad he can't play any instrument.


[b]Equipment[/b]: A longsword
A dagger
A tattered red cloak and tabard
An old chainmail
A helmet
Riding gloves and boots
A bedroll
Some cooking equipment 
Waterskin
[/hider]