Harlon

Harlon is sellsword in Westeros. A large man and dangerous fighter, Harlon is an imposing presence. Driven by self-held delusions of his parentage, he seeks to rise above his station, and attain some kind of real social status in the world.

Appearance and Character
Harlon is great mass of man, seemingly defined by his physicality. He stands well above seven feet, and is “thick as a castle wall.” He is not, however, overly bulky. The thick cordage of his form is more panther than bull, and he moves with an unexpected grace. His face was probably handsome once, but it has been worn and marked through the years. A heavy brow shades his grey eyes. His cheeks are shallow, and his nose seems to have been broken more than once. Three vertical scars decorate his temple, and another runs the length of his cheek. A great mess of blonde hair hangs around his face, and the beginnings of a beard cover his chin. His voice is quiet and surprisingly high, being almost a rasp in some cases.

He can usually be found wearing a grey, woolen coat, spotted with patches and mediocre repairs, over unremarkable grey and brown leathers. A heavy black cloak hangs from his shoulders, clasped with a brooch in the shape of a crow in flight. When prepared for battle, he wears boiled leather over a coat of mail, itself over his woolen coat. A simple, masked helmet rests atop his head. He carries a greatsword, the scabbard having the faintest hints of pale blue. A dull handaxe and skinning knife are tucked into his belt.

He understands the need to be ruthless in his line of work. His physical stature and combat skill do enough to project such, and he is sharp enough to play the part. But this facade hides the man underneath. He is amicable when not "on the job." He speaks few words, unless prompted. He believes himself to be not especially bright, and is at more comfort when someone else is taking charge.

Childhood
Harlon was born in 411 AC, in a small coastal village in the Reach. His father was a plowman for the Lord Oakheart, and his mother was the village midwife. He was born the last of seven children. While the rest of his siblings had dark hair and dark eyes, Harlon was born with a shock of blonde hair, with pale grey eyes. Rumors persisted that his mother had been unfaithful, perhaps with a traveling knight who none could recall. She became the local object for mockery, women whispering and men leering as she passed. Harlon did not escape this persecution either, and he heard the word “bastard” more than his actual name.

Throughout his childhood, Harlon was his father’s whipping boy. Any fault in the household, or any slip-up while working was blamed on the lad, and punishment was given with great zeal. Even as Harlon outgrew his father, he could never muster the courage to stand up to the man. He and his mother became closely bonded because of this treatment. Besides her, he had virtually no friends during his youth. His siblings, at the behest of their father, shunned their brother and treated him as a slave more than as their flesh and blood. As he grew, the difference between his siblings and himself became even more apparent. His father and his siblings were all short and wiry, but Harlon seemed to take more after oak trees. At 14 he stood a full hand taller than his father, and seemed twice his weight.

A few weeks before he was to turn to 14, his mother was struck with a fever. Harlon was the only person in the village to care for her. One night, while the rest of the family slept, his mother told Harlon a story. In this tale, she was seduced by a dashing lord from the West. She claimed Harlon was this lord’s bastard, and thus had noble blood running through his veins. Harlon tried to get the name of the lord, but his mother could not recall it. As the sun rose that morning, she passed, and was buried that afternoon.

Among the Ironborn
In 426 AC, his village was raided by a small crew of Ironborn. His father was killed in the ensuing violence. Harlon, holding only a broken haft, fended off a group of reavers for a short time. He was eventually subdued, the Ironmen seeing potential in the boy as a thrall. The captain of the group, impressed by Harlon’s ferocity, gave the boy a choice. Either come serve in his crew, or join his father. Harlon chose the former.

The captain was from House Sunderly, an unimportant scion. He took it upon himself to shape Harlon, and turn the boy into something more. He taught the boy how to fight, how to sail, and above all, how to live as an Ironborn. Harlon, though technically a thrall, quickly rose in prestige among the crew. He looked on them as a family, who were far kinder than his real family had ever been. He grew into a massive young man, dwarfing everyone around him. Stories of his skill in battle spread on Saltcliffe, and he became a necessity for any successful reaving. He was, on occasion, lauded as the finest swordsman on Saltcliffe, and perhaps in the entire Iron Isles.

He got his first taste of warfare during the Black Prophet's Rebellion. Serving House Sunderly, he was present at the battle at Pebbleton, and the siege of Corpse Lake. The Sunderly

Striking out on his own
While raiding a village in the Westerlands in 434 AC, Harlon chided one of his fellow Ironborn for being overly cruel to a child. The argument escalated, and resulted in Harlon killing the Ironborn in question. Given his thrall status, the only future he saw with the Ironborn was an execution. He fled into Westeros, with only his sword and the clothes on his back. He spent a few weeks living in the wilderness, barely surviving off what he could scrounge and hunt. After sometime, he came across a farm which did not immediately single him out as an Ironborn. He worked with them, for a time, doing the work of ten men. After a few months he left, heading east into the Vale.

He traveled the Vale as a sellsword, gaining a nominal reputation as a “dangerous man.” Serving as a guard for travelers, he did his fair share of battle against the mountain clans. But as he saw the many knights and noblemen of the kingdom, the story his mother told him all those years ago returned to him. The possibility that he could ride among them, who looked so gallant, tantalized the young man. After a treacherous march through the snowy mountains, he arrived at Gulltown a few days after the beginning of the eponymous massacre, and found himself camped outside the walls in the blistering cold. After this event, he left the Vale and headed West, finding work wherever he could.

Hearing of a tournament to be held in Harrenhal, he deemed the event to be a good place to earn coin. Either as a contender, or as something else.