Harrold ‘Harry’ Marbrand, is the thirdborn of four sons born to the late Lord Tytos Marbrand and his Lady wife Jocasta Westerling. By all rights of tradition and inheritance, it should now Harry Marbrand who sits the throne of Ashemark, but alas, due to his father’s and House’s treachery in The War of Three Banners, Harry’s immediate family were stripped of the Lordship of Ashemark, and it was passed on to distant cousins.

At current, Harry is a ward of the Rock, and has been so since late 434 AC.

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Appearance and Character

Harry Marbrand is a youth of roughly average height, if not a tad above. Atop his head rests a mess of brown hair, with sea blue eyes to accompany. Having had little else to do but train and study, Harry has developed a fairly trained physique, in his mind, it is one of the few things the Lannisters cannot take from him, and so holds to it greatly. He does not like stories of Ser Jaime 'One-Hand' Lannister, nor of Orys 'One-Hand', however old and dated they may be.

Further so, through his time fighting in the War of the Three Banners, which was amittedly fairly short for he served as a squire for most of it, coupled with his time as a ward of the Rock, Harry has found he has quite a skill for archery and riding, and has grown incredibly fond of both.

While once a playful and happy lad who was oft running around Ashemark with his cousin, Cerenna, since Harry marched out of Ashemark at age twelve alongside his father and brothers, such has not been so.

Nowadays Harry is generally a rather reserved youth, whom does not oft smile while within the walls of the Rock, for the most part only drawing one on when he needs to for the Lannisters' sake. But that is not to say he is entirely unhappy, for even in his diminished rank and position, he has still been able to enjoy some of the indulgences that would have been provided him if his father had not rebelled.

Although even with his being allowed to train and study and indulge at times, his past still very much haunts him so.

Inside the last son of Stafford Marbrand rests a divided mind that both screams for the return of Ashemark to its rightful Lord, while also just simply for peace.

If Harry were asked and responded truthfully what he wants from this world, he would not know what to say. Half of him would scream and shout and claw for Ashemark and vengeance, while the other half would simply ask if he could be allowed to see his dear cousin, Cerenna, one last time.

History

The Old 419 - 431 AC

Born the third son of the Lord of Ashmark, Tytos Marbrand, Harry had a peace-filled and joyous youth. When the young scion of Ashemark wasn't spending all his hours running around the keep with his dear cousin, Cerenna Marbrand, he was training with sword and bow with his older brothers, Lyonel, and Jason, and later younger brother, Willem, otherwise he was studying under the maester's tutelage, or simply enjoying being a child.

Those were his first twelve years at least.

To Ashes 432 - 434 AC

Then came the march. Harry Marbrand was but a boy of two and ten, yes he knew the Houses of the West and a great number even beyond, yes he knew the geography around Ashemark and that of the Westerlands briefly, and yes he had received basic arms training, but he was a boy, a lad, a child.

But it had not been his choice to make, that right fell to his Lord father, and make it he did. Still years on those memories mar his mind, his mother pulling at his father's hand, and later his leg, begging, pleeding, screaming, for him not to take her sons to war.

"They're too young!"

"They're just boys!"

"Please!"

But no matter what she said, no matter the words that came from Lady Jocasta Westerling, Lord Tytos had ignored her. Lyonel and Jason would take up arms and fight, for they were seven and ten, and five and ten, respectively, while Harry and Willem, boys of three and ten, and ten would act as squires and messengers. The sight of his father throwing loose his mother and fiercly commanding her to hold her tongue, the memories of her weeping uncontrollably as her son's rode through those gates, for though none knew it so, that was the last time they would all be in one place.

For Harry, first came the Siege of Castamere. This was the first time he would be exposed to such an affair. The smell of blood, melting flesh, boiling tar, the screams of men, the paranoia as one moved nearer to the keep, it was shocking to young Harry Marbrand, even more still to his younger brother, Willem, for while their elder brothers, Lyonel, and Jason, spent time listening in on their Lord father's war councils, the two younger boys were not invited to such meetings, but instead were given smaller, more meanial tasks. The carrying of letters and the cleaning of the arms and armour of their father and brothers became incredibly tedious, quite fast.

The battle was even more sickening to the two young boys that the siege itself, and the aftermath more so still. In those moments, throughout the next few years, Harry would come to want nothing more than to go home, hug his mother, play with his brothers, play with Cerenna, practice in the yard, learn from the maester, and so much more.

By the close of the first year of the war, the Marbrands were marching a second time, this time, south, and it was on this course that the Stranger would find the Marbrands for the first time during The War of Three Banners. Arriving an hour deep into a clash between the forces of House Lannister and House Spicer, Lord Tytos led a triumphant cavalry charge into the chaos that was the melee, only serving to further confuse the battle. At first it seemed as if the Marbrand host might just decimate both other sides and claim an easy victory, but soon enough, with the ground beneath turning to muck and mud, and the land on which the battle took place seeming smaller and smaller as seconds passed and turned to minutes and minutes to hours, chaos and confusion overtook all three hosts.

It would be in this battle, the Battle of Three Banners, that the first Marbrand would fall. Jason Marbrand, secondborn son of Lord Tytos Marbrand, and only a lad of six and ten, was viciously cut down by Ser Tygett Lannister. His body would be recovered after the battle and returned to Ashemark where it was laid to rest.

But Jason Marbrand was not the only Marbrand to fall, for in the Marbrand host's broken retreat, a man of Lannister managed to grab hold of young Willem, and force him away from his older brother, Harry, and no matter how hard Harry pulled, how hard he screamed and tried to dig in his heels, he soon found himself being dragged away by his father's own men, as Willem vanished into the crowd. Some weeks later Willem's body would be laid to rest next to his older brother, Jason's. On orders from Lady Tya Lannister, Willem Marbrand, a boy of one and ten, had been hung at the neck until life was nigh gone from him, and then drawn and quartered like the worst of criminals.

With the return of two of her four sons to Ashemark, Lady Jocasta was distraught. Two of her four boys were dead. Harry was not there, but since he has been told that his mother let out a horrifying scream and ever since was never the same, at first she went into a blind rage and tried to take arms from the armoury and a horse so that she might ride to Casterly Rock and bring revenge upon the Lannisters, but soon after, she was silent, and unmoving, and nigh remained that way for days after, only agreeing to let food pass her lips a week later.

Meanwhile, for Lord Tytos, his heir Lyonel, who had recently been knighted in wake of the Battle of Three Banners, and young Harry, war still raged. But on the day when news reached the Marbrands of Willem's death, Harry made himself a vow, sworn by all the Gods, Old and New, that he would never again let himself be so powerless, and that he would avenge his brothers murders.

Sarsfield was next for Harry. Another siege. But now he was alone. But no more would he let himself be without arms, and so without his father's position ordered a man-at-arms to hand him his dagger, a weapon which has remained in his possession ever since.

Young Harry Marbrand would celebrate his fourteenth nameday sat outside Sarsfield, waiting for the siege to end. He was in no mood to celebrate, nor were his brother Lyonel or his father Tytos. It went by unremarkably, as so many more would come to do so in the years to come.

Yet this time, when the Second Assault of Lannisport occurred, Harry Marbrand would not be back being 'protected by guards', for Lord Tytos had seen how that had worked for him, and to it he had lost two sons, so instead, both sons Lyonel and Harry were to stay by their father's side, and so they did, and both miraciously survived the battle in the process.

Then came the beginning of the third year of the war, the first moon of 434 AC. The moon spent within the walls of Lannisport were comparatively peaceful when compared with the many moons previously spent marching around the Westerlands, from battle to battle, siege to siege, and far more comfortable. But even so, Lannisport was not home, and it was not without its discontent, for much of the populous wanted the Marbrands gone from the city. But as time passed, and the moon turned, hunger began to set in.

And so, with hunger rampant, Lords Serrett and Sarsfield having turned against Lord Tytos Marbrand, and munities ever growing, the Lord of Ashemark took his two remaining sons and attempted to flee the city, but it was to no avail. With Lord Farman and his fleet to the west, Lord Crakehall and his thousand knights to the south, and Lord Jason Lannister and his host to the north, there was nowhere to go, for even east was not a viable option with the hosts outside the city walls.

How precisely Lord Tytos Marbrand died is unknown, at least to most. But to the one surviving witness of that whole campaign, it is known. Lyonel was the first to fall. The host of Lord Jason had broken into the city, with Ser Tygett leading a contingent of men, and so seeking to quench his bloodlust for the death of his own daughter, Ser Tygett came upon the Marbrands. Lyonel Marbrand, firstborn son of Lord Tytos and heir to Ashemark stood tall and turned to face the Lion, but he would not last. In a final charge toward the Lannister, he was swiftly cut down and pushed aside as the Lannisters advanced. In a mad panic, Lord Tytos turned to his last and final living son, gripping tightly onto his son's shoulders as the Lannister men advanced and the nine remaining guards present prepared for the onslaught.

It was then, a single time, that Tytos Marbrand showed mayhaps a single redeeming quality. With only one son left alive, he turned to the young lad, pulled forth the dagger the youth had taken off a Marbrand man-at-arms, and pushed it into his hand.

"You must. Do it. You must."

Still, those words ring loud in the Harry Marbrand's mind, for they were the last his father ever said to him, as only moments later, he was forced to stab in his Lord father in the belly. History would record the stabs as being of a greater number than they actually were, but history was always false, so Harry would soon learn.

Moments later the Lannisters and Ser Tygett were all about the young Marbrand, he had not seen it happen, but all nine of the remaining guards had been cut down like his brother. Now he was to their custody.

From them on, while the bodies of his oldest brother, Lyonel, and his father, were returned to Ashemark and laid to rest, Harry was given no such quarter. Instead, he was taken by the Lady Tysane as a ward of the Rock.

Rebirth 435 - 439 AC

The Rock was not home. Within the walls of Casterly Rock, Harrold Marbrand was a man between two existences, on one hand he was the last son of the late Lord Tytos Marbrand, a man both reviled and, by some, reverred, and so was by all rights of Gods and men, the true Lord of Ashemark, but on the other, he was the son of a disgraced Lord, a boy with nothing, with nowhere, and no one.

The only ties to Ashemark and his family he had left were the dagger he had taken from a Marbrand man-at-arms seemingly decades ago now, and with which he had killed his father at his behest, and the letters he and his cousin, Cerenna, exchanged on a frequent basis. The first letter had been sent in 435 AC, and from then they had not found to falter. The two cousins did not discuss Ashemark, no, nor did they discuss the war, nor did they discuss the new Lord Cerion, Cerenna's father, nor her brother, Philip, the new heir, nor her older sister Lucinda's marriage to a Swyft. For the most part they talked of little things, what they'd been doing for the past few days, something that chanced their minds and was put to paper, and on occassion, rare occassion, Cerenna would mention the Lady Jocasta Westerling, Harry's mother. They did not speak of her much, for Harry hated it, for he knew how she was now from Cerenna's letters, and had been unable to see her as he had been unable to go home, and she was not fit for travel.

And so that was how it was between Harry Marbrand and his family. The first two years were the worst. The shadow of the war still hung black over Harry's head, and there must have only been a few times he smiled that were not for the Lannisters. But come the lad's sixteenth nameday, something changed within.

On that day, the 13th Day of the 7th Moon of 435 AC, Harry Marbrand went out to the stablemaster and informed him that he would require a horse, for earlier that morn he had received Lady Tysane's permission to go for a ride, with 'company', of course. From there it only continued. Harry went to the master-at-arms of the Rock and informed him he would require diligent arms training, for while he had been receiving arms training over the last two years, he had never truly committed. And so to archery, javelin, and seemingly anything related to the ranged nature of combat, he took to with haste and skill, thoroughly bemusing the master-at-arms as to how the lad had these skills when for the past two years he had seemed beyond hope of ever being anything more than a middling warrior.

The maester was next, and so too Criston Lannister. From the maester Harry sought texts on warfare and its ilk, and from Criston Lannister, the son of the Redhand, the man who was directly responsible for the deaths of two of his three brothers, and from other Lannister commanders, he sought to learn the art of war whenever the chance arose, but for the most part, from books and his own thoughts did he learn much and more.

Such was how Harry would begin to spend most of his time, training and learning, making to better himself. It became a sort of ritual for him, and internally, though he never said such to anyone, it was also so that he could prove to the Lannisters, to show them, that not all Marbrands were Lord Tytos, that not all were failures. And so, with a renewed dedication to life, Harry Marbrand began to make visit to Lannisport more often, taking enjoyment from plays at times, at others just from walking the docks, for there was a freedom in them, just as there was an escape in plays, but strangely so, never in whores.

That was until the fourth moon of 438 AC. At one of the many plans he now seemed to attend, and in truth, most he saw at least a half-dozen times, his eyes fell upon a face, a beautiful one at that, and so did he feel something inside stir. He did not talk to her that day. Nor did he talk to her the next, nor the day after that, nor for a whole moon after, but eventually, he did.

The next moon was like a whirlwind for the young Marbrand, he hadn't had this kind of attention before, and he hadn't felt such a personal connection in years. He could not recall a time since the start of the war he'd smiled this much. Soon enough their courtship, as one might call it, grew into more than just spending time with one another, not two moons after meeting the girl named Elissa Lanny, he was in her bed, and so that was how it would be, with moons passing one after the other, never did their relationship falter, yet even so, when Elissa suggested marriage early in 439 AC, Harry avoided the question, as he did the next few times, and continues to do so to this day.

Skills and Stats

Attributes: Agile, Bellicose.