Rodrik Ryswell

`Rodrik "Roddy" Ryswell is a warrior from the North, and heir to House Ryswell of the Rills.

Noteworthy among his peers for the great affection he shows to his horses, he strives to perfect the art of equestrianism. In addition, he tries his best to spread what kindness he can in the world - the horrors of war still etched deep in his memory. As a advocate for violence only when necessary, he will often step forward if he sees injustice being committed.

Early Life: 381-394 AC
Rodrik's upbringing was stereotypical for the heir of a noble house, save for intensified lessons in horseback riding and the history of House Ryswell. Ever since the days of Domeric Ryswell, it had tradition for members of the family to remember their past - good and bad.

The next ten years would see the birth of three siblings each with their own unique with Rodrik. His younger brother William was always jealous about the preferential treatment his older brother received due to his birth. He always found a friend in Alys, her naturally cheerful personality giving him solace on even the most trying of days.

Leona was the sibling Rodrik was closest to; not because of similarities of personality, but because they both felt the other possessed many of the qualities the other was lacking. While he was honest, straightforward, and quick with a sword, she preferred subtlety and guile to influence the world around her. Instead of butting heads due to their differences, the siblings would often seek each other out for advice.

The Great Famine: 392-394 AC
Rodrik had been given strict orders to stay in the castle while his father rode to eradicate the strong bandit threat in the Rills. So, Rodrik sat and waited, hungry both for food and for a chance to showcase his honed combat skills.

Nearly a year and a half passed with only sporadic word from his father, but it was clear things hadn't been going well. The day Rodrik had been praying for came with news from a lone rider. His father had finally uncovered the largest bandit in the area, and he requested additional soldiers from the castle join him at once. Seeing his chance before him, Rodrik disregarded all advice, insisting that he should be with the departing army.

Once they joined Lord Cleyton's forces, he received a scolding like he never had before, but it was too late to turn back now. After promising to remain in the rear, Rodrik watched as the Battle of the Bloody Gorge unfolded. His father led the main charge expertly, easily outmaneuvering the enemy despite their defensive position. As the battle drew closer to the end, the outlaw leader broke through the Ryswell ranks attempting to escape. Sitting with the reserves and feeling rash, Rodrik ordered the cavalry to charge hoping to strike down the fleeing bandits. The fresh cavalry made short work of their weary opponents, with even Rodrik scoring a kill. It was the first time in combat, his first time killing, and he was unsure how to feel. So infectious were the cries of victory however, that he thought little more on the moral implications.

The War of the Three Thieves: 396-402 AC
When the call for Northern warriors to assemble at White Harbor, Rodrick was quick to jump at the opportunity. Insisting quite thoroughly to his father that he deserved a chance to truly prove himself, Lord Cleyton consented on the condition that his brother Brandon Ryswell, Master-at-Arms at White Harbor must agree to accompany his son.

Leading the forces of House Ryswell once more, Rodrik rode to war. Once at White Harbor, he met with his distant uncle, the two having little in common besides their surnames. They had met once before, at the funeral of Rodrik's aunt and Brandon's sister Erena Manderly nee Ryswell, who succumbed to illness the previous year. The two men hadn't spoken when Brandon came to return the bones of his sister home. His father and uncle had been feuding for some years, a disagreement on religion was how it was described to Rodrik - Brandon abandoning the Old Gods to embrace the Seven.

Despite the differences, it was comforting knowing another of his family was with him. After the Northern fleet was prepared, they began the warbound voyage south. It wasn't long until they came to their first taste of combat at The Battle of the Gulf.

Compared to the carnage he experienced that day, the battle against the bandits two years prior was more like a minor skirmish. He had never seen so many boats before, just counting the allied fleet, when the enemy came at them the destruction was on a scale he never could have imagined. His entire field of vision was filled with clashing ships and dying men. Making it through the battle was a stroke of luck, and Rodrik's desire for honor in war quickly drained from his body as he could only think of survival.

The war wasn't anywhere near its resolution though, and Rodrik fought in more battles then he ever could have imagined, each as destructive as the last. The Kindling, The Battle of the Broken Arm, Ormollen's Pyre; every battle felt like he had been transported to hell instead of the Stepstones. As the fleet approached the final stronghold of Grey Gallows, Rodrik and Brandon both were desperate to return home. They moved with the Northern army as the last resistance was destroyed. They were expecting of a sense of victory to fill the air, but one of dread rattled the air instead. The blue demon Arranax had appeared, swiftly incineration countless scores of men tightly packed together for the siege.

Where the past battles had shown the terrors a dragon could inflict, this was the first time Rodrik had ever been on the receiving end of molten death raining from above. It by another stroke of luck that te Ryswells were able to avoid the path of carnage until Price Maekar slew the great beast. Even though the allied dragon won, Rodrik made sure to never forget the destructive lesson he had witnessed that day.

Returning home with victory achieved, neither Brandon nor Rodrik spoke of the troubles filling their minds. Each had much to say, but no way to truly express it.

The Defiance at Long Lake: 402 AC
No sooner had he disembarked in White Harbor did the next conflict arise. Lord Stark rallied the weary Northern host to march on Long Lake and end the rebellion brewing by its waters. Rodrik had grown used to the warmth of the Stepstones after six years of fighting, and with winter rapidly approaching he wanted nothing more than to abandon his Lord Paramount and return home.

He considered himself lucky that the rebels were defeated quickly, but that thought troubled him. Despite his overwhelming desire to return home as quickly as possible, he felt regret over how swiftly and brutally the Northern army acted. Most of the rebels had already fled, and the approaching men were battle hardened from years of fighting. The battle took little more than an hour, with the soldier beginning the long march home, made especially uncomfortable with the chill bite of winter gripping the land once more.

The Scarlet Winter: 402-405 AC
With the arrival of winter, Rodrik did his best to stay warm and try and forget the horrors of war he'd witnessed. Any attempt to his family was in vain - his father was as cold as the wind, and his siblings too sheltered to understand his struggle. It was the constant companionship of his horse where he found comfort, the beast never judging the content of his worries during their rides. While the North was no stranger to brutal cold, The Scarlet Winter was harsher than any in recent memory. It was so cold that even the White Knife, the main channel of Northern commerce froze solid. The Manderly's were quick to capitalize on the misfortune, holding great feasts and events on the frozen waters. When news reached the Rills, Rodrik was eager to prove himself without the need for violence. Furthermore, the event would give him a chance to see his uncle Brandon again, someone he knew he could open up to.

His trip took far longer than predicted, the snow drifts deeper than any he had previously experienced. It was worth the hardship though, White Harbor and it's gullet shone brightly like glass reflecting the sunlight. A plethora of pavilions dotted the frozen waters, with throngs of nobles and servants braving the cold to enjoy the rare gathering. Delayed by the journey, he had no chance to see his uncle before the event began.

It was the most unique race Rodrik had ever competed in. He was no stranger to handling his steed in the snow, but sheer icy surface of the White Knife caused any change in weight to cascade dramatically. Every rider in the race had difficulty controlling their mounts around the obstacles, but he managed better than the rest. It didn't take long to build a sizable lead, finishing well ahead of the other competitors. He had cemented House Ryswell's reputation as masters on horseback to the realm, and it wasna comforting feeling knowing he did it without a single gle drop of blood spilled.

...To-be-continued, with details far cooler than any already written here!

Family

 * Cleyton Ryswell, Lord of the Rills, b. 360 A.C. d. 410 A.C.


 * m. Lyra Dustin, b. 365 A.C.
 * Rodrik Ryswell, b. 381 A.C. d. 405 A.C.
 * Willam Ryswell, Lord of the Rills, b. 385 A.C. d. 416 A.C.
 * m. Lyessa Glover, b. 387 A.C. d. 391 A.C.
 * Roger Ryswell, b. 410 A.C. d. 410 A.C.
 * m. Arsa Reed, b. 393 A.C.
 * Leona Ryswell, b. 389 A.C.
 * m. Eddard Stark of the Dreadfort, b. 386 A.C. d. 405 A.C.
 * Lyanna Stark of the Dreadfort, b. 405 A.C.
 * Torrhen Ryswell, Lord of the Rills, b. 391 A.C.
 * Bethany Ryswell, b. 395 A.C.


 * Erena Ryswell, b. 365 A.C. d. 395 A.C.
 * m. Torrhen Manderly, b. 371 A.C.
 * Wyman Manderly, b. 392 A.C.
 * Donella Manderly, b. 393 A.C. d. 415 A.C.


 * Brandon Ryswell, b. 367 A.C.
 * m. Lyra Snow, b. 371 A.C d. 402 A.C.
 * Jon Ryswell, b. 388 A.C.
 * Rickon Ryswell, b. 392 A.C. d. 402 A.C.
 * Barbrey Ryswell, b. 393 A.C. d. 393 A.C.