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Bruce Willis as Tyroan Rance Nayland |
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name: |
Tyroan Rance Nayland |
house: |
Nayland |
father: |
Lord Darren Nayland |
mother: |
Rebekkah Nayland nee Darry |
spouse: |
Anathema Nayland nee Flint |
issue: |
Ser Renholdt Nayland (b. 262)
Aeron Nayland (b. 265)
Visenya Goodbrook nee Nayland (b. 268)
Merida Nayland (b. 270) |
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gender: |
Male |
age: |
55 |
height: |
6'0" |
weight: |
210 lbs |
eyes: |
Gray |
hair: |
Shaved/Balding/Gray |
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honorific: |
Ser |
title: |
Steward of Stonebridge |
position: |
Household Knight |
predecessor: |
None |
heir: |
Ser Renholdt Nayland |
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Background
Tyroan Rance Nayland was born on the first day of 235, the youngest son of Lord Darren and Lady Rebekkah Nayland. He was a squalling baby, a perpetually-dirty boy, and a rough-and-tumble youth. He was sent to be page and squire with the Pipers, learning to be a knight. He was a quick study, and enjoyed his time as a squire to one Ser Rymun Piper, a boisterous tourney knight of some minor renown. Tyroan was knighted at twenty-one, a bit later than most.
Three years later, Maelys Blackfyre and the rest of the Band of Nine made their move. Aegon V called his banners, Lord Tully called his in turn, and Tyroan marched to war. While his own exploits came short of those of the Blackfish and Ser Barristan the Bold, but Tyroan Nayland was given the byname 'The Bootleather Harpy' for the toughness he showed, and returned to the Mire with something of a reputation and a taste for warcraft.

Tyroan made enough of a name for himself that he became something of a catch around the Cape, despite being a fourth son, and he was quickly betrothed to Anathema Flint. The marriage produced four children, two sons and two daughters. Their eldest son became a page and a squire at The Twins, while their second son was fostered with the Flints of the Mountains (his mother's mother's kin). Their eldest daughter married a Goodbrook knight, and has a 2-year-old daughter of her own. In 270, Tyroan was named Master at Arms of the Mire, a position he would hold for 12 years.
His tenure came to an end when Robert Baratheon raised his banners in rebellion against Aerys II. In response to a letter from his goodfather and the lack of call to arms from the Freys, Tyroan marched north to join the Flint forces. When Tyroan marched, however, he marched alone. His knightly son refused to go to war without the word of his Lord, and several of his family members had already slipped away to join the Royalists. He also marched without any title but Ser and Lord, having been removed from his position as Master at Arms by his elder brother when Tyroan informed Rickart of his decision.

Tyroan was a man aging and balding already, and served almost entirely as an adviser and member of the reserves at the Battle of the Bells, the Trident, and the march to King's Landing and Storm's end. After the war, he returned home to nurse his wounds, comfort his wife, and see their eldest daughter married. His stance on the Rebel side of the war did not sit well with much of his family, but he made it clear that he had done so for kinship alone, and he did not begrudge any who had joined the Royalist side.
He spent his 54th nameday helping to repair the defenses of Stonebridge after the ironman attack and helped plan the counteroffensive against the raiders. When the levies marched for Alderbrook, he was tasked with the defense of the Mire, commanding what remained of the Nayland levies and Guards. When the Army of the Riverlands came through, Tyroan marched with them, helping to plan the relief of Seagard, and went with Tytos Blackwood and his group of advisors to Harlaw.
Shortly after Ser Gedeon Rivers/Tordane was cut down by Tyroan's nephew, news came that his elder daughter was having a particularly difficult second pregnancy. Tyroan and his wife left so that she could be with her daughter during the end of the pregnancy. The child was stillborn, although their daughter survived, but the trip took long enough that they were still with the Goodbrooks when news came of a host of Charltons and Haighs marching on Stonebridge.
At the conclusion of the Charlton attack on Stonebridge, Lord Walder Frey assigned Tyroan as the Steward of Stonebridge until some conclusion could be brought about in the question of succession. As Steward, Tyroan has done his best to stabilize the town and the region, cutting back on some of his predecessor's excesses, sending grain to the Terricks and the Erenfords, parlaying with the Ashwoods, speaking with the Groveses, and gathering up a Haigh to eventually marry his second son.
He has, however, had to deal with the consequences brought on by the actions of Rickart's sons, investigating and charging one son, and repudiating the actions of another.
Tyroan Rance Nayland was born on the first day of 235, the youngest son of Lord Darren and Lady Rebekkah Nayland. He was a squalling baby, a perpetually-dirty boy, and a rough-and-tumble youth. He was sent to be page and squire with the Pipers, learning to be a knight. He was a quick study, and enjoyed his time as a squire to one Ser Rymun Piper, a boisterous tourney knight of some minor renown. Tyroan was knighted at twenty-one, a bit later than most, but that was because he preferred the sword over the Piper's favored lance, because Ser Rymun didn't consider talent in squires' melees worthy of knighting, and it took time to gather coin to purchase the necessary equipment to be a knight.
Tyroan was a knight for three years before war struck, and never really found his place until then. He saw to his duties as a knight of House Nayland, but always felt ill at ease. For all his training, he was not a courtly man, and there is only such much patrolling and training one might do. And then Maelys Blackfyre and the rest of the Band of Nine made their move. Aegon V called his banners, Lord Tully called his in turn, and Tyroan marched to war. While his own exploits came short of those of the Blackfish and Ser Barristan the Bold, but Tyroan Nayland was given the byname 'The Bootleather Harpy' for the toughness he showed, and returned to the Mire with something of a reputation and a taste for warcraft. Although he had resisted it before, he began to learn the game of cyvasse, although most of his attention was devoted to the study of warfare.
In fact, Tyroan made enough of a name for himself that he became something of a catch around the Cape, despite being a fourth son, and he was quickly betrothed to Anathema Flint to make a careful alliance at the other end of the Cape. The woman was eight years his junior, and definitely somewhat odd, but she was beautiful, and the marriage was his duty. The marriage was never a passionate one, but it was one of understanding, and even — eventually — of friendship. It also produced four children, two sons (born in 262 and 265) and two daughters (born in 268 and 270). Their eldest son became a page and a squire at The Twins, while their second son was fostered with the Flints of the Mountains (his mother's mother's kin). In time, their eldest son became a knight and married a minor Frey, but their second son never followed that path, instead adopting the faith of his mother and marrying a Wull girl. Their eldest daughter married a Goodbrook knight, and has a 2-year-old daughter of her own. In 270, Tyroan was named Master at Arms of the Mire, a position he would hold for 12 years.
Tyroan's skills — besides maintaining his relationship with his near woods-witch of a wife — did not really come into use until Robert Baratheon raised his banners against Aerys II. After all, smashing even groups of bandits rarely takes planning for knights, although Tyroan did what he could to make such excursions efficient. Lord Tully called his banners, and Tyroan expected to march… but Lord Frey did not call his banners in turn. No summons came to the Mire, until a letter arrived from his goodfather, inquiring as to whether or not the Naylands would support the cause that the Flints did. Tyroan's eldest brother Rickart could not answer the letter officially, and the Naylands' sympathies in general were for the King, but Tyroan could not refuse the request of his goodfather, and so he marched north to join the Flint forces.
When Tyroan marched, however, he marched alone. His knightly son refused to go to war without the word of his Lord, and several of his family members had already slipped away to join the Royalists. He also marched without any title but Ser and Lord, having been removed from his position as Master at Arms by his elder brother when Tyroan informed Rickart of his decision. By this time, Tyroan was a man of 47, not your usual front-line combatant (as Lord Hoster Tully would show when he was wounded at The Bells), and so he helped the Northern lords plan their assaults, and remained back with the reserve, only entering battle when it was called forth. By this time, the Boothleather Harpy was more valued for his knowledge than his sword-arm. He helped plan the rush to the Bells, the right wing's advance at the Trident, and the move south to King's Landing and Storm's End. After the war, he returned home to nurse his wounds, comfort his wife, and see their eldest daughter married. His stance on the Rebel side of the war did not sit well with much of his family, but he made it clear that he had done so for kinship alone, and he did not begrudge any who had joined the Royalist side. And so he returned to the uneasy life of a peacetime knight, until the ironmen struck.
Tyroan was at the Mire when the reavers struck Stonebridge, so he did not engage in their first wave, but despite his age — he spent his 54th nameday helping to repair the defenses of Stonebridge and prepare for the upcoming council of captains — he helped plan the counteroffensive against the ironmen. When the levies marched for Alderbrook, he was tasked with the defense of the Mire, commanding what remained of the Nayland levies and Guards. When the Army of the Riverlands came through, however, Tyroan marched with them, turning the defense of the Mire over to the next in line. He helped plan the relief of Seagard, and went with Tytos Blackwood and his group of advisors to Harlaw. While Lord Rickart played second-in-command to a Mallister, Tyroan was an aide to a Blackwood, offering his advice and counsel when asked — and often when not asked as well. He was reunited with old acquaintances from both of his past wars on Pyke, and returned home relatively unharmed, but definitely feeling his age.
Things did not quiet down upon the return from Pyke, and Tyroan was consulted now and again by his eldest brother on matters of strategy. Shortly after Ser Gedeon Rivers/Tordane was cut down by Tyroan's nephew, news came that his daughter was having a particularly difficult second pregnancy. Tyroan and his wife, sure that Danae Tordane's claim would be refused outright, left so that she could be with her daughter during the end of the pregnancy. The child was stillborn, although their daughter survived, but the trip took long enough that they were still with the Goodbrooks when news came of a host of Charltons and Haighs marching on Stonebridge. Tyroan and his wife have begun their trip back to the Mire, but with Hollyholt and Broadmoor astride the quickest way back to the Cape, they have been forced to take the long way around.
Family
Lady Rebekkah Nayland: Mother.
Lord Ser Rickart Nayland: Eldest brother and liege lord.
Lord Tobias Nayland: Older brother.
Ser Stevron Nayland: Older brother.
Lady Anathema Nayland: Wife.
Ser Renholdt Nayland: Eldest son, 27.
Lady Lyna Frey: Gooddaughter, #.
Lady Gwenah Nayland: Granddaughter, 2.
Lord Aeron Nayland: Younger son, 24.
Lady Visenya Goodbrook: Eldest daughter, 21.
Lady Analyse Goodbrook: Granddaughter, 3.
Lady Merida Nayland: Youngest daughter, 19.
Physical Features
Even at somewhere over fifty, this man looks as tough as an old, gnarled root. He has a blunt jaw, a lined face, heavy brows, and ears that stick out just a bit. That isn't helped by the fact that he has shaved his receding hairline down to polished scalp, leaving no hair to soften those ears. Beneath those brows are eyes of dark gray, flat as steel except when some humor sparks in them.
His body, though as gnarled as his features, still has strength in it, from heavy shoulders and a barrel chest down to sturdy legs. He wears simple, militaristic clothes, a plain brown jacket of partially hardened leather, knee-high boots with reinforced ridging, and black pants with a second layer of leather over his thighs. A simple bastard sword hangs from his left hip, and a pair of gray leather gauntlets are usually tucked behind his belt when they don't cover his hands. A green and orange badge marks his left breast, proclaiming him to serve House Nayland.
Relationships
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House Nayland |
My house, right or wrong. And right damn near almost all the time. I'll do what I can to ensure that we can keep grasping — and holding on to what we grasp. |
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Eldest Brother |
He's grasped far, and I thought he had grasped firmly, but his children are fucking it up. He certainly used to have better control of them. |
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Mother |
My mother may have been taken with me before Robert's Rebellion, especially once I learned to play cyvasse, but now she scarce acknowledges me save when she can find a chance for ridicule or scorn. |
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Wife |
We're too different to ever love one another, but my strange little wife is a trusted partner, whatever gods she believes in and claims to hear. |
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Eldest Son |
The son I wanted was the son I got. He's brave, skilled, and smart. Either he or his son will rule a hold for House Nayland, godsdamn it. |
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Son |
The son my wife wanted was also the son I got. The North infected him when he fostered there, and he married for love. Now that she's dead, we'll see what it means for he and I. |
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Daughter |
Sometimes a bit of the forgotten daughter, but she has done everything asked of her. The stillbirth was hard on her, but she's from tough stock. She'll recover. |
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Youngest Daughter |
It's hard to imagine how fast she's grown up. We'll be finding her a good match soon enough, so long as Rickart's sons don't fuck up our chances of that. |
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Nephew |
Left me a fucking mess to clean up in Stonebridge. If he'd thought with his brain instead of his cock, he might've amounted to something. |
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Nephew |
An incompetent spy and a treacherous son. And all over a bit of trim. Should have just bought himself a whore. |
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Niece |
Seems sweet enough, but she's obviously shaken from getting caught by those Charlton fucks. With good reason, apparently. |
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Stonebridge Maester |
A fussy little man, for all he's about my height. Has some odd ideas and some good ones. I'll break him in. |
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Stonebridge Captain of the Guard |
He's quiet, but competent. He'll take some work before he's really a top Captain of the Guard, but he's putting in the effort. |
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Squire |
Not a bad kid. Quiet, but sharp. Might make a good knight some day if he can get over the quiet bit. |
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Man-at-arms |
Young as all fuck, but I suppose we all have to go through that. Seems solid enough, but time will tell. |
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House Frey |
The snails of The Twins. Aren't there some sea snails with poison bites or some shit like that? Old Walder Frey sure took a bite of Rickart in picking me. |
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Lady Ambassador |
Not as fuck-all haughty as she could've been. We'll see if she tries to run the place. |
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Ward |
Haven't met her yet, but apparently Lord Frey's sent another Frey woman to keep an eye on us. |
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House Mallister |
Proud Eagles, your glory is faded. One of your vassals can't get out of their own way, and another seems more eager to get in bed with us than you. |
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House Terrick |
You made yourself our enemies, so you get what you asked for. When you're dependent on another enemy, you're fucked. |
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House Flint |
My wife's house. I've helped some of them bleed for their new King, much to Rickart's dismay. They're all a bit fucking loony if you ask me, but some of them are good for all that. |
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Goodbrother |
I fought alongside him in Aerys' fuckup. Good man. Good head on his shoulders. |
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Some Goodcousin or Goodniece |
A bit pushy, but at least she wants to help. If she knows what the fuck she's talking about, maybe she can. |
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House Charlton |
Hah! And they say we grasp too far. Fuck you, Lord Keegan, you out-foxed yourself this damned time. |
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Knight |
A solid enough young man, but not half as hard as he thinks he is. |
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House Ashwood |
And they say we grasp too far. This upstart pup of a house has the grabbiest hands I've ever seen. |
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Dead-Ass Lord |
A shitstain on the ass of knighthood, by all the stories. Did a good job of seeming reasonable enough in person. Being beheaded couldn't happened to a better fuck-ass. |
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Some Wolf Pup |
Polite enough, but I think he might be fucking slow. How many times did I have to mention guestright before he caught on? |
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Some Goodcousin or Goodniece |
Seems cheerful and pretty enough. Wonder why she's married into Highfield. Must not've liked Northern hospitality so much. |
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House Erenford |
The Herons are the only house that stood with us over Stonebridge, and it cost us for them to do it. Still, they did stand with us. |
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Young Lord |
Direct, smart, solid. Too bad the Freys got him before I could put Merida in front of him. |
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House Haigh |
Old Haystacks. Rich enough, powerful enough, not grabby enough. |
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Knight |
Seems nice enough, honorable enough, smart enough. Question is, is he tough enough? At least he doesn't prance around talking about how much money are in the Haystacks. |
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Gooddaughter-to-be |
A girl Lord Haystacks wanted rid of, but not too bad for all that. No proper lady, but then again, my son's no proper Riverlands lord. |
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Knight |
He's a stubborn bastard, but good at drill and in a fight. Wish we could've kept him on at Stonebridge. |
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