[hider=Garin Sands] [color=red]Garin Sands:[/color] [color=red] Name Garin Sands [/color] [color=red]Age:[/color] 35, born in spring, 08 AC. [color=red]Appearance:[/color] [center][img]https://periloustales.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/gado.jpeg[/img][/center] [color=red]Description & biography:[/color] A man of medium height, Garin possesses a heavily muscled build, though he moves with a grace that belies his seemingly squat bulk. His shoulder-length hair is coarse, dark and lined with early grey. Though his face once had a youthful cast, years of campaigning and care have etched deep lines into his features, lending his features a grim and thoughtful cast. Though those that know him would say he is not without cause in that regard. Garin Sands was born to a household of minor nobility in the year 8 AC. Like his peers, he grew up learning to ride, hunt, hawk, joust and the arts of the court. Unlike his peers to the north, Garin and his compatriots also learned the art of the javelin and the bow from horseback. However, as the third son, Garin’s prospects for advancement were somewhat limited. He enjoyed spending time in his father’s library, but he only ever pored books that interested him. He enjoyed learning from the Septon, but only on certain eras of history. But as he grew older, he developed a keen interest in the knightly arts. He came to have passion for what he did and overtime he became as deadly a horse archer as he was a lance. And it was just as well too. Though his family lived far from the Hellholt and Garin himself was not even three years old when the Princess Rhaenys was slain, the resulting devastation unleashed by the surviving Targaryens left a lasting legacy throughout Dorne. Garin's grandfather and eldest uncle were killed at the Hellholt and the younger was killed when Balerion the Black Dread passed over town, laying waste to all within. Even with the peace reached between Prince Nymor and Aegon the Conqueror, the land was a blasted shell of its former self. Whole houses had been largely wiped out, entire armies had been lost in the red sands or the charred ruins of what had been castles and towns. Lawlessness spread as fast the dragon fire that had wreaked havoc across Dorne. Bandit cropped like a weed and it fell to those that still had the blades and the will to wield them, to restore order. As such, young Garin was in the saddle, from an early age. By the time he was fifteen, he had already killed more than one marauder, often spending days in the saddle alongside his father and brothers. His strength increased with his bravado and he soon drew the eye of many a young woman. But Garin only ever had eyes for one. Martella was the daughter of miller who lived not far from the castle where Garin grew up. She was no lady of the courts, no refined courtesan nor a would-be Septa. Martella was simply kind and listened to Garin. At first, it began as simple exchange of pleasantries. Garin had accompanied his older brother to oversee how taxes were collected. Martella being a peasant and the child of a miller had learned little in the way of reading. But she knew a great many poems and songs and she could play nearly any instrument. An exchange of stories soon blossomed. Garin would sneak away at night and sit on the bluffs that overlooked the pine-shrouded valleys below. Martella learned to read from him and he learned music from her. The months passed quickly and what was between the two soon blossomed into love. But their tryst could not go on forever. Martella was with child when they were found out. Garin refused to accept his father’s demands. Martella refused to drink moon tea and so Garin was offered a choice. He could put aside his lover and their child would be taken care of. Or he could go into exile and be forever banished from his father’s lands. Moreover, Garin had yet to be knighted and his father threatened to withhold that honor from him if he chose lover over family. So Garin rode east with Martella and crossed the stepstones to Essos, where he introduced himself as Garin Sands. He went from war to war and in peacetime served as bodyguard of any who would have him. But the life of a mercenary was no way for a new mother to raise a child. Nor did Garin wish for his daughters to endure what he had. In the end, the same wanderlust and sense of adventure that had led him so far from home led him back to Dorne. There was a respite between wars in Essos and the mercenary companies no longer had a need for every fighting man. But then, he was approached by a Dragonlord named Vhandyr Balaerys. The nobleman mentioned that certain noblewoman of Westeros needed Dornish and Dothraki horsemen for her efforts. He had looked for such soldiers and Garin's name had come up a few times. Garin, though having long since lost any love for Westeros and Dorne, agreed. He cared little for this Vittoria Tyrell's cause. But her gold spent the same as anyone else's. And what she offered would be more than worth his while. So Garin chose to take what he had learned back home and strike out as his own captain. He made landfall in Dorne, with a handful of men who had followed him back across the Stepstones. Though he hesitatede, he at least agreed to bring Martella and their daughters along. But Garin didn’t return to make amends with his long-estranged family. In fourteen years, the thought had never once crossed his mind. Instead, Garin returned to call any man who follow him north to Oldtown. For Vittoria of House Tyrell had learned much in her time commanding soldiers and knew well the value of cavalry like that of the Dornishmen or the Dothraki. Whoever she wanted killed mattered little to a man like Garin or those who followed him. But as the commander of his own company, he could stand to return to Essos with great wealth. One more war and Garin Sands would be wealthier than his father or brothers could ever be. His family would live in luxury, and he would never be beholden to another. [/hider] [color=red]Family Members:[/color] [hider=Martella Sands:] [color=red]Age:[/color] 37, born in winter, 05 AC. [color=red]Appearance:[/color] TBD [color=red]Description & biography:[/color] The years had not been kind to the people of Dorne. Even after Aegon reached a peace with that realm, the survivors had the arduous task of trying to rebuild their flame-scorched land. Much had been lost, but a few prospered. Martella's grandfather had built a mill over a small, but strong waterway. Though much land had been burned and the soil lost under the wind and the hammerlike heat of the sun, the mill still ground on. And so the family, though not wealthy, did not fall into poverty. As the years passed and more of Dorne was rebuilt, the mill prospered. Martella learned the old legends and songs of her people, much as her mother and grandmother had before her. One day, the lord sent his son along to learn how taxes were collected. Martella was sitting on a low stone fence, near the mill, as she always did at the end of the day. There, as the sank and the birds took up their call, she sang and played her mother's lute. Though neither knew it then, she had captured the heart of the lord's son. To her eyes, he was a boy that needed to learn to smile more. Martella had no real intention of marriage then, she had always thought she might become a Septa at some point. Or perhaps teach the old songs and legends. She had smiled at the lord's son and then played a tune about a knight and a giant frog. By the end, even that solemn youth had laughed and introduced himself as Garin. They talked for a moment and she told him of the legends she had committed to memory since childhood. Garin would return from time to time, on this pretext or that. Over the months and then the years, she taught him all she knew and in turn, he taught her to read. From one song and tale to the next, from every night spent out on the sheer cliffs that overlooked the dun-colored slopes of the forested valleys around those lands, they slowly fell in love. By the year 26 AC, Garin and Martella had made a secret vow to marry. Shortly after, she told him she was with child. Pressured by both her family and Garin's parents, it took every ounce of courage she had to refuse the demand to drink moon tea or to give her child up to the faith. Even though she was thrown in a cell and her family threatened with harm, if they ever spoke a word of what happened, she held fast. Garin at last came to see her and led her out of the cell. He looked grieved, but also like a man who'd just had a great weight lifted from his shoulders. He told her that his father had threatened to withhold knighting him. He could either put her and their child aside or go into exile and be banished for all his days. But he had only one question, would she come with him? Martella found her courage tested yet again, but even though she thought her heart might burst from her chest, she agreed. Whether Garin had enlisted the aid of some of his father's more sympathetic men or smuggled her out of the castle, he wouldn't say. He never even said if he'd truly been given a choice or if this was logical consequence of his defiance. But they rode away at night and took a ship across the narrow sea to Pentos. There Garin became a mercenary and she found work as a laundress, cook, seamstress and wagon driver at turns. Like her lover, she took the last name of Sands and rarely, if ever, spoke of her family. For fifteen long years, they went from war to war. Sometimes there was peace and then Garin took work as bodyguard, duelist, pit fighter or just a hired street tough. But then things changed when their second daughter arrived. In truth, the newest addition to their small family had been a surprise. Martella's first pregnancy had been a difficult one and the baby had come early. Before she had a chance to speak about it, Garin revealed he was of a similar mind. Their first daughter would be old enough to marry in a few years and both their children needed more than what he could offer them. The life of sellsword was no way to raise a child. But then, an unexpected boon arrived in the form of a dragonlord of all things. He told Garin of a nobleman in Westeros. One who needed soldiers of the kind Garin could provide and this would-be employer had gold aplenty. With the kind of wealthy they stood to gain, they could afford a fine house, guards, servants and the best tutors for their children. With that kind of background, their daughters could marry well and have good lives. Martella, though knowing how little love her husband had for Westeros or Dorne, agreed and they returned across the stepstones for the first time in a great many years. [/hider] [hider=Rylla Sands:] [color=red]Age:[/color] 14, born in winter, 27 AC. [color=red]Appearance:[/color] [color=red]Description and Background:[/color] TBD In truth, none could be blamed for thinking that Rylla would survive her birth. She had been born early and even for such an occurrence, she was a small and frail thing. But as she grew, she grew strong and tall. More like her father in appearance and build, she nonetheless had her mother's love for music, stories and growing things. Never afraid to speak her mind, she took to her father's swordplay and horsemanship lessons quickly. But the time she was 12, she could ride with the best and her father even had a suit of armor made for her, out bits and pieces he'd acquired over the years. Though she was a disciplined student, she didn't have her father's fire. Rather, it was a necessity or a task she had to learn. Rylla wished more for the tales of courts and finery that her father would sometimes tell. Or the times King Aegon had flown into Sunspear on Balerion the Black Dread. Tales of history and great gambits for power were more to her liking, though she never complained or flinched from any task her parents gave her. But that would change when her sister was born. Rylla's childhood had been a happy enough, for one born to unwed parents in a sellsword's camp. But she had few friends and had always hoped for another sibling. So when Myrna was born, she took what she called her duties with a grave solemnity like that of her father. She threw herself into her training with a dedication that while, not like her father's drive for excellence, meant she wouldn't rest until she could master the arts of a knight and a noblewoman. Though she was young, she was determined to do her part and see her family become one of power and wealth, like that her father had once been part of. [/hider] [hider=Myrna Sands:] [color=red]Age:[/color] 4, born in winter, 27 AC. [color=red]Appearance:[/color] TBD [color=red]Description and Background:[/color] Young Myrna Sands takes after her mother, though she has her father's dark eyes. A small and shy thing, she nonetheless is a delight to her parents. Rylla is perhaps her favorite person in the entire world and she loves nothing more than being able to come with her older sister. Rylla's stories and lessons in horseback riding are her favorite part of the day. Though finding a large mud puddle is a close second. [/hider]