[CHAR] Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

[BigPapaBelial]

House Harlaw

House: House Harlaw

Region: Iron Islands

Liege: House Greyjoy

Holding: Harlaw Island – Ten Towers, Tower of Glimmering, Greygarden, Harlaw Hall and Harridan Hill

Recent History:
The House of Harlaw had been split down the middle originally back in the war 25 years ago. Some sided with Asha, some sided with Euron and the crown. The most notable of names like Lord Rodrick, Ser Harras the Knight as well as Hotho Humpback sided with Euron when he went to join Cersei and the crown, this wasn’t out of any type of loyalty really, but out of necessity, out of the need to survive. Some of the lesser members of the family sailed with Asha on her ships when she sailed to join Daenerys. This was mostly out of choice and loyalty to the idea of those who didn’t commit fratricide.

It was a house torn in two for awhile. Members of other houses notably Victarion Greyjoy would say it was a sad thing to see. That such a powerful, rich and ancient family like the Harlaws would be at war with each other.

A lot of this changed though of course, when the White Walkers brought down part of the wall and marched south. The two sides came together, the family was once again brought together. And they held the coasts properly. Raging up and down the east and west coasts making sure none of the white walkers could use the frozen waters to flank the main battle.

When the battle was over the family returned to their home. As one again. The rebellious younger generation back in the fold with the elder generation. And they returned to Harlaw island to continue their mining and funding of reaving expedition around the south of Dorne and up into Essos.

At some point during the wars and raids. Harras Harlaw the Knight of Harlaw, had planted his standard below Greyston on Grayshield, defeated seven men, slaying five of them in combat and took the castle and the Island. Atleast for a time. Later, after the White Walker defeat, and the start of the time of peace, there was a variety of Crown brokered land returns and attempts to placate old family feuds, one of those deals was that Harras Harlaw, reluctantly, is to return Greyshield to the Grimm. To this day Harras's side of the family still believe Greyshield belongs to them, and have never stopped introducing themselves as "Lord of Greyshield". likely much to the displeasure of the Grimms who took the island and the castle back.

Everyone needs rich friends after all. And being one of the richest families and houses in the Iron Islands makes them pretty much indispensable.

Family Members:

Name: Leyton “Redbrand” Harlaw
Age: 43

Affliation: Firstly The Temple of the Lord of Light in Braavos, secondly House Harlaw of Harlaw

Appearance: ikammya.deviantart.com/art/Red-Priest…

Role: The first son, of Harras “the Knight” Harlaw, was to take over the position of Lord of Greygarden on Harlaw Island.

Equipment: A long slim, one handed rapier, vials of flammable oil, iconography of the worship of R'hllor

Skills: Accomplished Water Dancer training under the First Sword of Braavos herself for at time, Fully Ordained Red Priest having trained at the Temple of the Lord of Light in Braavos, average ability in R’hllorian pyromancy for an example he can summon the flaming sword effect, but he cannot call forth fire from nothing without atleast some type of flammable medium. Besides this he’s highly educated in both survival as well as doctrine and theory of a variety of topics like wayfaring, math and various substances.

Biography: Leyton was born into the rich and powerful Ironborn family of the Harlaws. Rich, strong, powerful, rivaling the Greyjoys in power really. Able to field about a quarter of the Iron Fleet in the old days all by their lonesome. They hosted one of the few knights of the Iron Islands, being Harras Harlaw. In fact Leyton has the honor of being one of two sons of the famous Harras “the Knight” Harlaw. He was born some time ago before the whole war began, and was alive along with his brother to see the war begin, the return of dragons, the war against the white walkers, and the forming of a new kingdom, and peace coming to the Seven Kingdoms.

Leyton started as your prime Ironborn man, learned to sail, reave, he learned the art of fishing properly, and learned the arts of axe and sword. He probably would have become a proper member of the Ironborn way and continued reaving and sailing on into the 25 years of peace.

But something shifted one day. A week before he was to be named Lord Heir of Greygarden after his father. He ran away, took a one man sloop, water, food and sailed around the Dornish coast. Headed for the Free Cities in the East. He set down first in Tyrosh, then made his way north up to Myr, and spent some time in Pentos. Perhaps it was his way of doing an internal search before taking responsibility. But he never returned to Harlaw Island to take up the mantle of Lord Heir of Greygarden. Because he made it to Braavos, and that’s where he stopped. He settled down, becoming a fishermen, selling his catch in the market. Until one day while mending his nets, he heard the bells of the Temple of the Lord of Light, got up and decided to go visit. The first visit turned his life in a different way. He abandoned the way of the Drowned God and embraced the worship of R’hllor. Joined the church, petitioned to join the ranks of the Red Priesthood, and submerged himself in Essosian life. Even going so far as to abandon the axe, and somehow managed to catch the eye of then current First Sword of Braavos, a beautiful woman, and an extremely accomplished Water Dancer.

It’d be hard for his family to recognize Leyton Harlaw, who unofficially renamed himself Leyton “Redbrand”. He had cast aside his Iron Islands regalia and had put on the robes of the Red Priest. Subsuming himself in the teachings of the Lord of Light totally.

Notes: His personal emblem is the quartered shield, with black and silver Harlaw, the cream of his father, though the peacock has been replaced with the sun resplendent of the Lord of Light.

Name: Danas “The Sable Mantled Kraken” Harlaw

Age: 37

Affiliation: House Harlaw of Harlaw, through them to House Greyjoy of Pyke

Appearance: deviantart.com/art/Sverting-47511185

Role: Lord Captain of the Harlaw Raiding Fleet, Captain of the Sable Saber, an Iron Ship made in the old style with dragon head prow and catapults and scorpion launchers at the fore and aft, Second son of Harras “The Knight” Hawlaw

Equipment: A curved hand and a half style saber, with silver gilt etching along the hilt, with a basket hilt, little to no ornamentation on it as it’s a warriors weapon not a pretty piece. A round shield, decorated with the black and sable of Harlaw colors. Comfortable and functional leather and chain armor, maps and other items used to sail and wayfare. In possession of a relatively new Sunstone, used to spot the sun when it’s too cloudy.

Skills: Expert wayfarer, able to tell the speed and direction of travel on a ship or boat with extreme ease. Accomplished combatant, using curved sword and shield on land and ship. An accomplished Finger Dancer as well, having won several Finger Dances without losing a finger or toe yet.

Biography: Sometimes the second sons are unlucky. They are overshadowed by a man or a boy who’s the first son who can do no wrong, who can do it all. That’s how thing started between Danas and Leyton at first. Danas was relegated to the lesser position because of the fact that Leyton did so many things so much better then him.

Danas did his best to be his own man though. He took up the saber, and the shield. Learned how to sail and wayfare on a ship. He learned how to fight and fish and reave and fuck like an Ironborn. As he was the second son, he could get away with signing onto this or that ship and going out for days, weeks even months at a time without anyone noticing him being gone. So he cut his teeth on early raids to Essos. Hitting small town on Raider ships. It was coming back from one of those trips, with a rucksack full of loot, and a brand new long saber, that he was met on the dock by his father, and his aging grand father. They had some pretty heavy words for him chewing him out for vanishing and not being around to do his duty. They were very surprised when who they thought was a meek second son suddenly bit right back at them, he hurled his well earned booty at their feet to show them what he’d been doing. He had gathered up his loot and was about to push by his father and grandfather when Harras had grabbed his arm. Telling him the story of how Leyton had ran away, and no Ironborn could tell where he had gone. He apologized, as he honestly thought that Danas had known.

Danas was pretty much shocked to learn that in a matter of days he had gone from second string to first place. He was encouraged to continue his adventures, but his education was expanded when he was on Harlaw Island. Economics, warfare, leadership. He’d suddenly been placed in the position to become the heir when his father stepped down. To take Greygarden and Greyshield as lord of both. When he was named Heir Apparent on his 25th birthday he was gifted an Ironship by a shipwright, christened the Sable Saber. And he took his place as the Lord Captain of the Harlaw Raiding fleet, cementing his place of power.

Thus he waited for his turn when his father stepped aside or died. He also quietly wondered where his big brother had vanished off too.

Notes: Donas standard takes the form of the black and silver of Harlaw, black on the base, with silver around the edge of the shield. Two scythes cross upon it in sea green.

[agentmanatee]

Matarys Rivers

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

< M a t a r y s R i v e r s, the Black Princeling >
^{❰ Male ❱}

_{A G E}

< 23 >

_{A F F I L I A T I O N}

< House Targaryen, House Lothston >

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Matarys is a young man of three and twenty, one of Aegon Targaryen's great bastards. Fathered on Lady Lollis Lothston by Aegon, Matarys Valyrian heritage is apparent in his shimmering lilac eyes and pale skin but has deep, mud-like brown hair. He stands at five and nine feet tall, he is not as large as some of his half-siblings or cousins but no less warrior.
He has fighters build, broad enough of shoulder and form but more graceful than a brute or slab of muscle, but still quite robust as a knight should be. His face is hard and often serious, smiles rarely grace his mildly gaunt features. He wears his smooth-brown hair back in a ponytail often rather than around his shoulders. He sports a close-cropped beard or goatee most of the time as well. He most often wears fine silks and wools, finely woven tunics in the colors of either his father's house or his own sigil.

Matarys takes for his sigil a single-headed red dragon with wings outstretched, displayed in the same fashion as the bat of House Lothston, and long fangs tipped with blood.
It sits on a field per bend, black and gold.

_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Matarys Rivers is the bastard son of Prince Aegon Targaryen and lady Lollis Lothston. One of the Prince's great bastard fathered on a noblewoman, Matarys was given one of the eggs laid by his father's dragon Viserion which would hatch into the Dragon Haeraxis ensuring none could question the boys bloodline. Matarys once he came of age was fostered in Kings Landing along with the Royal children and Aegon's other great bastards. It was there he would meet the Crown Prince Aemon and his beautiful sister Daenyra, a girl both he and Aemon would fall madly in love with.Thus would begin the great rivalry between the two boys that would rest with them many years, often childishly competing for Daenyra's affections, each seeking a leg up on his opponent. The two would grow up quite similar into quiet and serious young men and the foolish rivalry of two boys became the harsh competition of youth. Two dragon riders each looking to outdo the other, quarreling and fighting often they only seemed to grow worse with age.

All the same, they were of similar age and personality and temperament, leading to their educations being made to compliment each other. Just as Aemon was taught as Crown Prince, the future King of Westeros a leader and figurehead for the people. Matarys was taught the art of statesmanship himself, as an advisor, or even a possible hand to the future King. He was taught the intricacies of trade, diplomacy and most importantly intrigue. The art of political shadows, how to read when a man was lying and how best to gather information from the shadows. How to plot, scheme and look at the long road of rulership. Even with their complementing lessons the boys never got along well. As squires, they would spar often, not because they saw each other as equals but as rivals. Time and again one boy would cast down the other only for their next session to reverse. As they grew older still most men would grow to love Aemon, his Stark cousins n particular took well to him... but Matarys never did. Rather than bonding with Starks or Aemon Matarys sought darker friendships. The sons of House Lothston, his half-brothers, were notable amongst his childhood compatriots, men of swarthy attitude and intent that seemed to hover about the Black Princeling.

Although he never got on with Aemon, his other cousins and half-siblings often fared better with Matarys. His fellow great bastard Daemon Waters got on as well with Matary's as he did any other, being charming and honorable Matarys could be said to love Daemon as a close brother. His opinion on his trueborn half-siblings in Dorne varies, although he is universally jealous of their trueborn status.

Childish rival had gone to competition, and competition had soured further into deep disdain. The cousins clashed time and time again with word and steel, each seeming to be the only one who could rile the other up so. Still, even as they had grown, their love for Daenyra had not faded. In particular, Matarys believed he loved her more than Aemon ever could. Behind his back, many in the Red Keep had taken to calling him the 'Black bastard' or 'Black Princeling' for his ill moods and tendency, but never had he been so with her. With Daenyra it seemed as if Matarys was a different man, those who saw him this way would describe as drunk on his own infatuation, kind and gentle and courtly, a far cry from how he acted with her brother. Although Aemon often was forced to hide his love as a brother or otherwise Matarys intentions were always obvious.

But such childish fancy could only live so long. It was inevitable Daenyra be given neither to her brother, nor the Black bastard. She was given to Lord Monterys Velaryon, betrothed to him on her fourteenth name day. It was said the Black Princeling had stormed out angrily from the festivities that day. For some time he seemed surrounded by a dark mood, flying into short fits of black rage, particularly with Aemon. However, a day or so later Matarys calmed himself, but it was said that ever after all true joy had gone out from the young man, leaving only rage and vitriol. A year or so after he would be knighted, and allowed to choose for himself a sigil.

Since then he has served the Iron Throne and House Targaryen faithfully as a rider, commander, and advisor. To this day his rivalry with Aemon persists, although he has more important concerns. War throughout then Kingdoms rages, and young Matarys has been called to the Stepstones to aid Lord Aurane Velaryon in their reconquest. What he seeks now is anyone's guess, but the first steps to attain it will be upon the Stepstones.

_{P R O F F E S S I O N}

< Knight, Dragon rider >

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

Matarys is a southern Knight, anointed in the seven oils and carries the tools of his possession. Matarys plate mail is quite advanced and notably ornate, a dark crimson enameled breastplate with his sigil embossed and inlaid in gold on his chest. His helm is enameled in much the same way, with a snarling fanged dragon for a crest whose small eyes are amber. Its long tail coils down and around his salet whilst its wings are flat against its sides as if recently landed. His cape is dark crimson bordered with gold and black. He carries a large kite shield whilst mounted and a smaller heater on foot, both with his sigil picked out on its front. He carries a castle forged bastard sword into battle as well as a dirk and lance.

Matarys is a dragon rider, his father had gifted him with an egg from Viserion in his crib. It hatched into Haeraxis of the Bloodflame. The dragon's scales are a deep crimson, except for his spinal scales which are the color of burnished gold, the same with his wingtips, claw tips and the tops of his horns. The skin of his wing membrane is black as soot, same for his teeth and the bases of his horns and claws. His flame is the color of spilled blood, shot through with blacks and dark gold color. His eyes are as black as twilight and glimmer brightly.

_{S K I L L S}

Matarys is more than a Knight and warrior, so much more. Reasonably talented with the sword, lance, dirk and shield Matarys is perhaps most skilled in the art of intrigue, plotting and scheming to be his mother's milk. Matarys is clever, conniving and sinister, fond of dark schemes and long-reaching plots. He plays the game of thrones well or at least aspires to do so. He is yet young, with many plans to lay and schemes to hatch. Despite his bastard Status he has a highborn education and can speak many languages, fluent in High Valyrian as well as most dialects, as well as several Essossi tounges.

His skill on dragonback is substantial, being one of the better riders currently in the land in no small part to his bond with Haeraxis. His skill on Horseback is average at best and far prefers his dragon. Although not as charming Matarys is a competent leader and is possessed of a deep and quiet stoicism. Men do not follow Matarys out of love, but respect and trust that he will get them out alive and well.

[Gnome Johnson]

Harald

Name: Harald, “The Flea Bottom Miracle”

Age: 17

Affiliation: The High Septon, The Faith of the Seven

Appearance: Harald’s common birth is apparent at a glance. Straw yellow hair, a ruddy-red nose, thin build, and gaunt features, there is no force in Westeros that could take away the years put on his life from his childhood in Flea Bottom. He has sad brown eyes which seem to stare out for miles. His body is littered a number small scars, gained both from his place of birth and the High Septon’s discipline.

Profession: Healer, Septon

Equipment: Long knife, tunic, breeches, boots, book of hymns, and healer’s kit.

Skills: Septons claim that Harald has been blessed by the Mother and can heal those at the Stranger’s door with a touch. The truth of those claims remains murky, but it is clear that regardless of the source of his skills, Harald is one of the most talented healers in Westeros. Tutored his whole life by septons and septas in the ways of healing and faith, Harald has knowledge in the various herbs used to counteract illness and the other available arts to ensure a patients physical and spiritual well-being. Anointed by the High Septon himself, Harald is a priest of the Faith of the Seven. As such, he is able to perform holy services, marriages, and forgive sins in accordance with the Faith. He has intimate knowledge of the Faith, its history, and its practices in the modern era.

Biography: Harald wasn’t expected to anything great with his life. Being born in Flea Bottom as he was, it’s considered a great success if you don’t wind up in the Red Keep’s dungeons or dead in an alleyway at a young age. Growing up in an environment such as this, children like Harald learn to keep their head downs at do their work with the quiet efficiency expected of smallfolk. Even before adolescence, Harald was working to help keep food in his mother and his bellies. He would take any number of odd jobs to help support his family, and when his mother came home drunk and covered in bruises, Harald learned how to handle that as well. No who one was in Flea Bottom, one learned to grow up quick like Harald did. Blood, shit, and death were an everyday reality in those slums, and even at the age of six Harald thanked the Seven that he hadn’t ended up like so many other children in Flea Bottom. He was hungry, sure, and his mother had taken ill, but he was alive. That simple fact kept the child going through the rougher times to come.

His mother had gotten sicker, and Harald didn’t know what to do. She was sick on the inside, and that was something that the boy had never had to take care of before. Bruises and cuts he could handle, but the type of rot that was within her required something that even the rich couldn’t always afford. A miracle. Harrald knew it wasn’t likely he would receive one of those, he felt that all those miracles had been used up by the Dragon Queen and her husband, but he still prayed for one regardless. He found time to pray every day, even sneaking into the fancier septs in order to make sure the Seven really heard his request. Harald hadn’t though he was asking for much. He didn’t want gold or food or sweets, he just wanted to make sure his mother got better.

She wasn’t getting better though. Whatever sickness this was, it was eating her from the inside out. Harald had gotten what little money together he and his mother had saved up to get a healer, but there still wasn’t enough money for his services. She didn’t have much time, Harald wasn’t naïve enough to believe otherwise. Still, he knew that the Seven had to help him. He had prayed every day for months, helped clean the sept when he could, and still his mother wasn’t getting better. He didn’t need her forever, just a few more hours. Just long enough to say goodbye. Using the last of his money, Harald gave everything he had to the sept, knowing that the starving nights ahead would be worth it if he got to say goodbye to his mother.

When he returned home, she had gotten worse. Blood came up with her coughing, and Harald felt numb. He didn’t understand why his prayers weren’t working. He had done everything he saw other people do when they prayed, he had even donated all the money he had. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t. He refused to. So he bowed his head and clasped his hands, feeling tears slip free from his shut eyes, and prayed again to the thus-far deaf gods. He’d live the rest of his life in pain and unhappiness if it meant one miracle, he promised the Mother that. Just one miracle, and he’d sacrifice everything he had to the Seven if that’s what it took. He shook and screamed and begged and sobbed in the alley with his dying mother, still pleading with the gods to just give him enough to say goodbye.

And to his surprise, the Seven seemed to have finally listened. The tinkling of laughter mixed in with scattered gasps. He looked up and saw the smiling face of his mother, whole again for only a few moments. He had gotten his wish, he had gotten a chance to say goodbye. They talked for a moment, just a boy, his mother, and a growing crowd of shocked onlookers. Once they finished, Harald hugged his mother and she kissed him goodbye, finally falling into the Stranger’s embrace. Viewers claimed that Harald had revived his own mother just to have a final goodbye with her, but no matter what really happened that day, a legend was born in those slums.

News of the “Flea Bottom Miracle” spread quickly, and it was not long before Septons were searching the slums high and low for the boy. In such religiously turbulent times, anything that reaffirmed the smallfolks’ faith in the Seven was worth more than gold. Harald was eventually found by the Septon search-party, and after more proof of his ability, it was determined by the Most Devout that he would be raised in the Red Keep and the Sept of Baelor. Harald would learn the healing arts and be trained in the Faith of the Seven by the High Septon to better serve the Seven Who Are One.

For eleven years, Harald was tested rigorously in secret regarding his knowledge of the Seven and of the body. His existence was only known to the Most Devout, kept secret even from the court while he lived at the Red Keep. He was allowed no other interest but those supplied to him by his tutors, and much of a normal childhood, even for a boy of Flea Bottom, was denied to him. His faith had to be absolute and unquestioning if he was to represent an aspect of the Seven’s power in the mortal realm, and as such he was sheltered from the corruptions of the outside world. His only social outlet the questions of aged men, Harald became a recluse, finding shelter in his books and his prayers. A healer without patients and a trained septon without a flock, Harald’s life was lonely, but safe.

Now, at the age of seventeen and during a time of religious upheaval, the Most Devout have decided it is time for Harald to re-reveal himself to the smallfolk. Accompanied by a small squadron of knights and septons, Harald has been sent to the Riverlands to reestablish a religious foothold for the Faith.

Notes: