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| Scott Porter as Ser Jarod Rivers |
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| name: |
Ser Jarod Rivers |
| father: |
Lord Jerold Terrick |
| mother: |
Landra Bevins (d) |
| spouse: |
Rowenna Rose Nayland |
| issue: |
None (?) |
|
| gender: |
Male |
| age: |
22 |
| height: |
6'0" |
| weight: |
Well-built, athletic |
| eyes: |
Green |
| hair: |
Brown |
|
| honorific: |
Ser |
| house: |
Terrick |
| position: |
Hedge Knight |
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|
Background
Ser Jarod Rivers - sometimes called the Half-Eagle - is a fellow with a colorful reputation. He's the bastard spawn of Lord Jerold Terrick, the otherwise upright and pious highlord of Terrick’s Roost. He made a decent account of himself in both Robert Rebellion - where he was knighted for his service as a squire in the Mallister ranks - and the campaign against the Ironborn - during which he led his lord father's armies on the Iron Islands. And then he pissed his comfortable position in Lord Jerold's house away by knighting a woman, and marrying in secret Rowenna Nayland - the same woman he knighted and the daughter of his lord father's long-time enemy, Lord Rickart Nayland.
He was stripped of his armor, horse and spurs by his father - every knightly honor but his sword and his 'Ser' - and cast out of Four Eagles Tower's service, though he landed on his feet. Seven knows how. He entered service as a sworn knight for the Naylands themselves, and fought with them to hold Stonebridge from the Charltons. It’s here where his story in this corner of the Riverlands ends. While aiding in a border patrol of the Mire lands he was thrown from his horse and broke his leg.
He was taken to the Mire to have his injury tended and, while not crippling, it was deemed that it would take some time to mend. As the weeks passed and he regained his strength, and the situation in Stonebridge stabilized some, he went to Lord Rickart Nayland and asked that he be released from his oath. Why, precisely, isn't known save between the two men. Though changes were coming to the land, and perhaps he simply wanted no part of them.
He made his goodbyes and journeyed by cart to Fairmarket in the company of his unladylike wife, Rowenna Rose. For the moment he resides there to heal completely in the company of his mother's father, a merchant by the name of Master Bevins. But he shows no wish to linger there. His letters to family and friends back home speak of perhaps journeying to King’s Landing, or spending a year in tournament country in the Reach when he can ride again. Or perhaps in the cold North, or on the island of Tarth, where his lady might find better ability to make her way with a blade.
Wherever he ends up, his time in the Riverlands was at least an interesting one, and he hopes to find even wilder stories and better luck beyond it.
Family
- Lord Jerold Terrick — Father. Lord of Terrick's Roost.
- Landra Bevins (d - 267) — Mother. Daughter of a steward in the Terricks' service. Died in childbirth.
- Rowenna Rose Nayland — Former squire. Wife. Partner in disgraceful scandals of all sorts.
- House Nayland — Kin to his unladylike lady. A frightening number of Mire-dwellers who may or may not want to have him killed.
Physical Features
Jarod Rivers is a young man, likely not more than a year or two past his twentieth nameday. He's built tall, broad-shouldered and well-muscled, with the easy strength and confidence in how he carries himself that speaks of daily athletic and martial training. His fair skin is tanned from time in the sun, his dark hair cut short, and he has a clean-shaven, square-chinned face with merry green eyes and a nose that looks as if it's been broken a time or two.
He favors tunics in shades of green, with dark brown breeches and sturdy leather boots. It's generally of good make, albeit some of it showing wear and dirt of infrequent laundering and leaner living. He carries a longsword at his waist, a big weapon best wielded with two hands, or at least a hand-and-half.
Scars, Battle and Otherwise
- His nose has been broken more than once, most notably when he was 14 by Ser Vernon Mullard, the knight he squired for during his time in Seagard.
- He took an arrow deep in the back of his right shoulder during the Battle of the Trident, and still carries the scar from it.
- For those who might've had opportunity to see it, there's a strange scar on his backside shaped eerily like the letter 'P.' The only explanation for its origin he provides it, "Bad ride up the cape."
Heraldry
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As a bastard son, Jarod cannot wear the Terrick purple-and-gold four eagles upon his shield. The crest he's devised in place of it is a golden eagle's wing on a field painted plain black. "Half-Eagle" is the obvious joke, and a knightly nick-name that's become more and more associated with him over the last years. And one he like as thought of when styling it. |
Allies and Foes
Disclaimer: This may get a little irreverent. OOCly, of course, I love you all.
"If I should fall from Warrior's grace, where no septon can relieve me
If I'm buried 'neath a stone, but the Seven won't receive me
Let me go, boys! Let me go, boys!
Let me go down in the mud, where the rivers all run dry"
Riverlands traditional bastardized by way of The Pogues
The Pogues
"If I Should Fall From Grace With God" |
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Vigilant and Just: My family by blood, if never by name, and I pledged to bleed for them before I was even a man grown. I'd have given my life for any of theirs in a heartbeat. Still would. But I wanted something for myself I couldn't give up for their sake. I pray they forgive me one day. |
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Myself: I am a lucky bastard. Whatever else I am. I think I can live with that. |
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Lord Ser Jerold Terrick: My lord father, though I'm his byblow and not his trueborn son. Not like you can say you never got stupid about a girl, is it? A good man, and an honorable one. Part of me hopes I gain the strength to be that, another part fears that such qualities only bring a man misery. I shall likely never serve him again. Not after the lies I told, more than he knows. But I hope one day we can speak as men on better terms, for I shall always love him well. And I still count myself luckier than I think he'll ever understand to be Lord Jerold's son. |
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Ser Jaremy Middleton: Born my fair young lord brother, he threw away the name and all the gifts he'd been handed in life for a petty crusade against our Nayland neighbors. I cursed him once for being so selfish, but perhaps I'm no better. I forgive you Jaremy, and I think I understand why you did it. Love is madness. You never got your gallant white cloak, but perhaps you'll find some honor in the black of the Night's Watch. |
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Lord Jacsen Terrick: My fellow half-Terrick. Jacsen and I have as little in common as two men can, but I've always felt closer to him than my other brothers. Part of me will never forgive myself for not saving him from the blow that took the use of his leg at the Trident. Lame or not I think he has it in him to be a better lord than anyone might credit him for, though he seems determined to think himself weaker than he is. And make himself weaker with milk of the poppy, as Justin tells it. I pray he can find the strength to remake himself into a man he respects. |
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Ser Justin Terrick: Lord Jerold's third true son, fourth-born if you count myself. Justin spent much of his life away from the Roost in service to Riverrun, and I know not well the man who returned. He seems a faithful and honorable sort, what the Roost and Lord Jerold need right now. He likely thinks we're all just a collection of fuck-ups, given the state of things. I'm not really in a position to argue. I wish I'd gotten to know him better. Perhaps I will one day. |
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Lady Lucienne Terrick: Little Luci. Not so little anymore. I shall ever love my sister, however little I might understand her, and I figure she'll do the same for me. Nothing else matters. I pray you find happiness somehow, Luci, and that we might meet again someday in better times for us both. |
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Lord Artur Terrick: My lord father's uncle, and the master-at-arms at Four Eagles. A gruffer and older man I've never met. |
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Ser Dmitry Terrick: A cousin by blood, though I know the man little. He seems more light-tongued courtier than knight, though perhaps the Roost has more need of that just now. Gods know someone who can talk to our neighbors without pissing them off is welcome. |
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Lady Anais Terrick: My goodsister, almost twice over. First betrothed to Jaremy, then passed to Jacsen, like everything else our fair lord brother skipped out on. She's pretty and witty and Western and blonde, and I like her well enough, but I wish my brother had ended up with someone who loved him. And I wish she'd gotten someone who loved her as well. That's not the world, though. Seems like the price of that sort of love is everything else. I pray she finds something in the everything else she has that makes her happy, for she has a good heart. Even if I don’t figure any Terrick will ever hold it. |
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Ser Hardwicke Blayne: As a boy I looked up to this common knight, wanted to learn to use a sword like him, for he was better than any noble I knew. Though he was the Lady of the Roost's man, and I don't think he could ever bring himself to think anything but poorly of the lord's byblow. I suppose I've proven him right of late, ungrateful bastard I turned out to be. I hope he's wrong. Or that I can at least do better. |
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Ser Kell Drakmoor: He defended Terrick halls when he wasn’t obliged, and fought like a true knight on the Iron Islands when such conduct was in short supply. I was glad, after leaving Four Eagles, to hear he’d bent the knee to my lord father, for I figured his sword would serve better than mine. I now wonder if he was happier beneath a hedge, and sworn to none but his own honor. I go to seek such a life myself now, and if I can be half so good as a hedge knight as he was, I shall be lucky indeed. |
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Mistress Avinashi Ruhi: Jacsen's Dornish food-taster. Came into Four Eagles like a dream given form, all bangles and strange accents and stories from other lands. She's half-unreal. But that's just fine by me. She serves my lord brother well enough that she can be anything she wants so far as I'm concerned. And she's got some seriously good shit amongst her herbs. |
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Master Mortimer Trevelyan: Law man of the Roost, or at least he's tried to keep it together since the squids wrecked the town. One of the volunteers who took the field for the Roost at Alderbrook, when our army for the Cape wasn't more than peasant refugees. He's lost much, but he still seems dedicated to bringing order back to the town. Terricks need all the men like him they can get. |
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Mistress Oliva Snow: My kinswoman in the North, and an old retainer of my lord father’s. Well, not so old as all that. I regret not bedding her when I had the chance. It would've put me up to Four. |
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Above the Rest: The lords of Western Shore, who the Terricks bend knee to. I was born and raised at the Roost, but I figure my sword was forged in Seagard. Their enemies call them arrogant, and perhaps that's not wrong, but there are no better men I've found to have your back in a fight. |
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Lord Patrek Mallister: Lord Jason’s son, made highlord of Seagard when the Rusted Prince cut his father down in front of his eyes. Boy's too young to have that laid on him, but he seems to have found more strength than any would figure him for to carry it. |
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Ser Kamron Mallister: Damn fine hand in a fight, fierce and proud as any man in the Mallister ranks. He was a true friend to me after my fall from the Roost as well, which I'll not forget. There are those who say he forsook his honor, interfering with Lord Martyn's duel at the Grey Garden. Not sure I'd have done any different in his place, though. Some things are more important than a man's honor. |
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Lady Saffron Banefort: Anais' spirited ginger cousin. A sweet lady, and she’s been kinder than most to Rowenna, for which I think very well of her. I never thought I’d see Ser Kamron wed, but he’s done all right for himself by this one.. |
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Ser Martyn Mallister: Sturdy as a rock and damn decent fellow besides. His reputation took a beating for the way the siege of the Grey Garden came out but I'd follow him into battle again. Still, I'll ask the Warrior to keep him clear of duels for a good long time. |
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Lady Muirenn Mallister: A gracious lady, and one who seems eager to help regrow the Roost. I'm sure my family's most grateful for her service in these dark times. |
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Ser Keelin Dorsey: One of Seagard's sworn, a sturdy common blade. He fought brave against the squids on the Iron Islands and seems as firm a man in Seagard's service as you'll find on the Cape. |
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//Old Roots Run Deep//: Another banner to the Mallisters. They defied Seagard and fought for the Royalists during the Rebellion, and Lord Jason punished them harsh for it. Old slights still sting, though I hope Lord Jerold and Seagard mend things some with them in the years to come. Enough enemies in the world without making more of your neighbors |
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Ser Kittridge Groves: Son of the Lord of Kingsgrove. Apparently he has an idiot brother or two, to which I can sympathize. Seems to hold the slights his House has taken very tight, though otherwise he's a fun enough fellow to drink with, and a decent warrior. |
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Ser Nicodemus Groves: I met him on the Iron Islands, though I didn't know it at the time. He was called himself Ser Benedict then, a hedge knight from lands far off. They say he fled after the Rebellion rather than bending knee to the king. Now he's come home. Gives me hope I can come home too someday, though I don't figure the world I return to will be anymore the same than the one that greeted him. |
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Lady Rosanna Groves: I don't know much about her, save that all tongues in the Riverlands said she'd marry Lord Rutger, until Lady Roslyn Nayland set her sights on Ser Kittridge. And they say she's a bit of a spoiled brat, but I've always figured that's what "proper lady" means. |
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//While We Live//: The name's all but dead now, though the fighting over the scraps of it doesn't seem it'll ever stop. Once my lord father's vassals, then the Harpy's stolen cranes, and only the seven hells know who'll hold what was once theirs when all is said and done. Whatever Lord Geoffrey Tordane might've wanted before he died on the banks of the Trident, I'm sure it wasn't this. |
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Lord Gedeon Tordane: Bright and hot and brilliant like fire. You may be dead, but the spark you set still burns in these lands. I can never forgive what you did to take it. And yet, for all that, most of all I curse you for dying. Stonebridge was the one thing you might've made good for, and you might've done good with it. Now the rest of us are left with naught but your ashes, and Stranger only knows what we'll make of them. |
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Lady Isolde Nayland: The last Tordane alive by blood. And I know it to be true. I think, if I'm honest with myself, I always knew. The first girl I ever looked on as a girl. The first thing of my noble brother's I ever wanted, but couldn't have. Bending knee to Stonebridge was my penance for what her brother did. For what I was a part of. For what, I suppose, I ran away from the Riverlands because I couldn't live with. If the Seven have any justice you'll remain the Lady of Stonebridge, though I've not the heart to fight that battle anymore. |
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Lady Valda Nee Frey: I don't want to overstate this, but you know those legends they tell in the North of evil phantoms that eat your soul? I'm fairly sure she might be one of them. Not that she isn't rather fine looking, for an older woman. Still. Evil. |
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Lady Danae Tordane: Lovely and sweet as an apple blossom. Perhaps I prefer roses after all. At least they wear their thorns where I can see them. I don't know whether you knew nothing, and to pity you. Or if you knew everything, and to fear you more than any enemy I've ever faced with a blade. |
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Ser Alek Coope: Once Lord Valentin's man, now the Widow Tordane's. More mercenary than knight and an asshole besides. Also, possibly a bugger. Good for a spirited little fight now and then, though, I'll give him that. |
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Marsden Streem: The Half-Septon. On the Iron Isles he prayed while throwing himself into battle, and then cauterized our wounds and took our confessions. Now he's thrown in with the scraps of the Tordanes. I wonder if the Seven guide him, and which of the faces he looks go for his own soul. |
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House Valentin: Lord Valentin's father was raised from common sword to lordship for bleeding Royalists during Robert's Rebellion. His son builds his title on whatever he, and those he took with him, bled in Braavos. I have little love for what they made of my friend in their walls, and I wonder how much they're willing to bleed to build what they strive for in the Riverlands. |
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Lord Ser Anton Valentin: I can't help but wonder what Gedeon Rivers would've been in the world if it weren't for this man. For better or worse, we're swords forged by our makers. |
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Reach Beyond Thy Grasp: The enemies of my lord father, the blood of she whom I love. World's funny. When I was a boy I held them as a lot of evil blackguards, but they've shown my lady and I a family's kindness in recent days. Perhaps things can change. I pray they can, for I fear both our Houses will come to ruin if it doesn't. |
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Lord Ser Rickart Nayland: This man's barely human to me. When I was a boy he was a storybook villain I'd been raised up to expect to destroy all I loved. My father's life-long enemy, for reasons Lord Jerold won't explain. The harsh patriarch Rowenna fled. And yet, he's shown her a father's love since she revealed herself, and hasn't cut off my head yet. I'll just enjoy his not-killing me while it lasts. That way, all surprises are pleasant. |
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My Mire Rose: My former squire (it's a long story). Now my wife (it's a longer story). Love is madness, and makes fools of us all, and all that singers' nonsense. I think it just might be worth it, though. We'll see what we make of it. |
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Ser Rygar Nayland: Fought for the Royalists during the Rebellion. When he didn't have to fight at all. For that I respect him. Blunt instrument for his lordship. Cold a fish as any I've met, and with nothing in his life it seems to me save duty to a House which he can never hope to rule a real part of. I used to wonder if I'd be him one day, when the world had made me cold. Not sure what I'll be now, but won't be that. |
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Lord Rutger Nayland: Not a good man, but a good lord. Sometimes it's the best you can manage in this world. |
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Ser Riordan Nayland: Damned Naylands. Just when I think I've got them figured out, they confuse me. Comes off like an arrogant ponce one minute, decent fellow the next. He's fine with a lance and he seems to honor his debts, if nothing else. He thinks too much with his codpiece, but that's probably why we get on decently. |
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Lady Roslyn Nayland: Rowenna's sister. Long a spinster, nearly wed to my half-brother Justin, now wife to the Groves man. She's gotten something of what she wanted out of life, at least. I wish I'd known her a little better, and more than that that Rowenna knew her better, for kin should be dear to each other. Perhaps we'll visit the orchards one day, now that she dwells among them. |
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Lord Rafferdy Nayland: The Fun Nayland. Fought for Good King Robert when most of his family did nothing, which shows he's got some spine, and he's good company to drink with. He nearly tossed it all away from a pretty Haigh skirt but…well. Family trait that, I suppose. |
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Lady Jocelyn Nayland: Ser Rygar's sister, though I can scare believe it. She's she nice. Must've taken it all the sweet and left him the sour. |
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Squire Hugh Asterholm: Lord Riordan's squire, my lady's kin. Spirited lad with a proper appreciation for bought women. I have high hopes for him. |
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Ser Bruce Longbough: One of Robert Baratheon's veterans, solid common knight, access to fancy foreign pipe weed. One of the few comforts I took, when I wore Nayland colors, as that he and I fought on the same side. I'll miss the old Blackwood tosser. |
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Freys: The Late Lord of the Twins holds much, and rules it with much gold and little honor. I've no love for most Freylings, and I sit not easy when I think my new oaths go ultimately to them. At least Lord Walder seems to look out for his bastards. |
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Lord Igara Frey: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Ser Wayland Frey: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Charltons: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Lord Aleister Charlton: Fuckstick. |
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Lady Cherise Charlton: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Erenfords: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Haighs: Blah, blah, blah. |
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House Baneforts: Fierce coastal Westermen, joined to my lord father's house by a daughter to my brother. I like many of them well, but I wonder if the Terricks might've been better-served tying themselves to another River house. |
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Honor, Not Honors: Another Western house. Lady Anais once compared them to the Naylands. Of little means and ever-striving for what's just beyond their reach. Those who've come to the Riverlands seem to fit that well enough. |
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Ser Garett Westerling: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Ser Desmond Westerling: Blah, blah, blah. |
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House Flint: A Northern House, the nearest neighbor under the Starks to our River coast, though even Flint's Finger is a goodly ways away. Some of their folk are strange to me, and they seem ill-at-ease in the Riverlands. I wonder if they will linger with the war done, and what they shall make of the place if they do. |
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Young Lord Anders Flint: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Lord Einar Flint: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Lady Tiaryn Flint: Blah, blah, blah. |
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Fucking Squids: Another knight once said to me that Robert's Rebellion had broken the Seven Kingdoms of fealty, and made only might matter in who ruled. I didn't want to believe it. But the Greyjoys sought to be kings on only the right of blood and cruel strength, and they were only stopped by another hammer stroke. Perhaps he was not so wrong as I would like him to be. |
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The Rusted Prince: The Rusted Prince who felled Lord Jason. Felled by a Mallister man in turn. Little justice came out of the campaign on Isles but that's one bit of vengeance I'm happy for. |
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The Raper of the Roost: King Robert said of Rhaegar Targaryen, "There are some men you would do all you could to bring back from death…And there are others you want nothing more than to kill all over again." Whatever end he met, it was not a hundredth the pain he deserved. |
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Asvard Nares: One of the first reavers on the shores of the Roost. I pray we'll meet again some day. I miss his face at the Roost. On a spike, preferred. |
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Ser Harras Harlaw: Called 'The Knight,' in a land where most drown themselves to a god that wants them dead, rather than kneel to the Seven. An honorable enemy. I mourn that all I face with a blade, and even a good many I fight alongside, aren't of his quality. |
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Lady Kathryna Harlaw: I had her under me once. Sword-to-sword, that is. I regret not cutting her throat then and there. I hear she paid her iron price in the end, though, if not by my hand. |
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Septon Josse: He can hold his liquor and he knows the best dirty septon jokes, so even if he is all into that holy stuff, we can still hang. Fixes me when I break myself, so I keep him busy. Boon friend, proper, and I hope he prays for me better than I do for myself. |
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Master Tym Rivers: Another of my kin in bastardry. Tym fights too much and drinks too much, so of course we get on. Only trouble I ever have with him is when we get our eyes on the same girl. Still, damn fine mate. Riverlands forever! |
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Miss Lyle Carrity: Fair Lyla Carrity. The first girl I ever loved…in a physical sense, if not an emotional one. I hope whatever dreams she has, she finds them in the great wide world. |
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Lady Evangeline Terrick: My father's lady wife, but no mother to me. We were never easy with each other, but she allowed me a better home than most bastards are given. I never thought until I was older how much that might've cost her. Mother keep you, my lady. I hope you knew how grateful I was. |
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Lord Revyn Terrick: My lord uncle, and still one of the best swordsmen I figure I'll ever meet. He died for the Roost, so that a handful more of the Terrick's smallfolk might live. I pray, if I fall from Warrior's grace, I die half so well. |
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Ser Gedeon Rivers: My kinsman in Rivers. Whatever else, we could never break away from that, and now it's the part I hold onto tightest. We had little in common, save things neither of us wanted to share. He did things I can never forgive. But past all that, more than anything, I miss my friend. |
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Lord Jason Mallister: The Iron Eagle. Ser Barristan Selmy may've been Jaremy's picture of knighthood, but to my mind there was no finer example of the knighthood than the Defender of the Western Shore. Men say he shouldn't have taken the duel. But he died with honor, and with sword in hand, fighting for his land as bloody as any of his sworn. I'd like to think, in his place, I'd have had the stones to do the same. |
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Miss Amelia Millen: My Grandfather Bevins has said little to me in my life, but this I can't get out of my head. "Highlord problems do harm to what's beneath them without even meaning to, and then they weep for it very prettily before they forget it a day later." Fair Amelia made me wonder if there's not something to what he might've been talking about . |
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Lady Elinor Banefort: I knew Lady Anais' sister little, save that she seemed fair and kind. There's a part of me that thinks she might've been a better match for Jacsen had we all known how things'd go with Jaremy, but it does little good to think on what might've been. I pray she died quick and clean, and before the squids could visit a crueler fate on her. |
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Young Lord Ryker Nayland: I just want to say one thing. In a fair fight? I could've totally kicked this guy's ass. Won't get a chance now that he's dead. Or, if I did, it wouldn't be too sporting, what with the decomposing. |
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Camdens: A House north of the Roost, small and of little means, they sought only peace and to care for their smallfolk. They were the first to pay the iron price when the squids fell on our shores. I know not if they would've wanted vengeance, but I like to think we visited a small part of it for them on the Iron Isles. |
| Faith and Spirituality |
I'm not sure whether I beileve the Seven reside in sept stones, anymore than they dwell in the Northerners trees or the waters of the Iron Islands. But the world is better if there are gods, and if higher things guide men, than if there are not. So I'll try to believe and hope it's true, and perhaps the ways of the Warrior, Mother, Stranger and all the rest will make me better and braver. |
| Robert's Rebellion |
I was sixteen years old when Robert Baratheon raised the land against the Targaryens, and I bled for the rebels because my father did, and because I squired for a Mallister knight. In the beginning it all seemed a righteous cause, made for glory and songs. By the end it had crippled my brother and lost me good friends. And gained me a knighthood, though I did little valorous for it. I still think of the Trident often, and wonder what we're left with even with it so long done. All of Westeros can't seem to get away from it. |
| Ironborn Invasion |
Balon Greyjoy did murder and rebellion and reaving to the River coasts because he thought being strong and cruel gave him a right to be king. He was repaid in blood, and I've no shame at saying I was proud to be a part of vengeance on the squids. Yet I can't help but feel it was left unfinished, and that so long as he draws breath, no justice will be done. I wonder, if such as he live, how much justice there is in the land for the rest of us. |
| Making the Eight |
Three regions down, which might be the most I'll get out of life. I will take a dark-eyed River girl any day, though the Western lass had her charms. Pyke girls are insane. Even more than all other women. |
Typology
All else being equal, ESFJs enjoy being in charge. They see problems clearly and delegate easily, work hard and play with zest. ESFJs, as do most SJs, bear strong allegiance to rights of seniority. They willingly provide service (which embodies life's meaning) and expect the same from others. … They by nature "wear their hearts on their sleeves," often exuding warmth and bonhomie, but not infrequently boiling over with the vexation of their souls.
Jarod has been classified as an ESFJ according to the Keirsey Typology personality test. Full description in the following link. It's pretty spot-on.
A version of the test you can take "in character" (or out) can be found here.
Jarod's Memoirs, Writing Efforts and Other Miscellany
| Flowers and Family — 278 — A younger Lady of the Roost takes the boy Jarod Rivers to task. |
| The Rivers Boys — 280 — In the present day, Jarod and Gedeon have their differences, but they were not always at odds with each other… |
| Substitute Teaching — 281 — Hardwicke gives a young Jarod a lesson in swordplay. |
| Off to Glory and Songs — 282 — A lifetime ago for Jacsen Terrick and Jarod Rivers in Seagard, another war begins when they are still very much boys. For this one, they're more eager to go. |
| Where the Rivers All Run Dry — 283 — On the eve of what would become known as the Battle of the Trident, the Rivers boys share a drink and song. And say good-bye, though they don't know it. |
| At War's End — 283 — A freshly knighted and hungover Ser Jarod Rivers pays a visit to his wounded and diminished brother Jacsen at what would be the end to their participation in Robert's Rebellion. |
| The Price of Honor — 283 — Lord Geoffrey and Lord Geonis Tordane's bodies are brought back after the rebellion. Lady Isolde, only of age sixteen makes her way in before the gathering to have time with her father and brother. Ser Jarod Rivers joins her and gives her comfort in spite of the price of honor. |
| Adventures with Boys and Girls — 284 — Jarod Rivers and Isolde Tordane are both too old for kid's games, but they get up to a few of their own making anyhow. |
| Horses, Rivers and Snows — 284 — In which Mistress Oliva Snow introduces Ser Jarod to the right horse for him. |
| The Correspondence of Lady Anonymous — 07.288 — The collected letters betwixt the mysterious Mistress Nommy and Ser Jarod Rivers. |
| Ser Rivers Writes From Stonebridge — 11.20.288 — In which Jarod corresponds with various individuals concerning Jaremy's incarceration. |
| If I Should Fall — 01.10.289 — Ser Jarod Rivers pens a will of sorts, to the care of his lord father, should he fall by Warrior's grace where no septon can relieve him in the battle against the Ironborn. |
| To My Lord Father — 09.05.289 — In which Ser Jarod writes Lord Jerold from Stonebridge on matters of personal and local import. |
| The Seven Have a Strange Sense of Humor — 09.05.289 — In which the Half-Eagle writes the full Eagle again, before warring with the Charltons makes correspondence difficult. |
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