L O S T
JORAMYR VARAMUND
General Overview- Name: Joramyr Varamund
Titles:
Ser Joramyr Varamund of the Crownlands - Swornsword of the Dawnbringer
- Lord of Valsten
- Commander of the Vinterguard
- The Bear of the North
- Species: Valkyri
- Place of Birth: Tháinbroek, Midvinter
Current Home: Valsten, Midvinter
[*]Age: 75 Standard Years
[*]Gender: Male
[*]Build: Strong, Athletic
- Height: 7'5
- Eye Colour: Blue
- Hair Colour: Greying Dirty Blonde
- Complexion: Pale
- Distinguishing Features: Severely Scarred; Missing Right Eye
- Playby: Richard Dormer as Beric Dondarrion
[*]Force Sensitive?: No
[*]Strengths And Weaknesses
[*]Strengths:
- Trained and bloodied swordsman, Knighted at the Battle of the Crownlands, and granted Lordship following the Rebellion
- Commands the Might of the Valkyri Vinterguard, against the Vinterbound, and is more than adept at hunting down the Scourge of Midvinter
- Fiercely loyal to the Descendants of Thrand Dawnbringer
- Once trained as a Blacksmith, and retains knowledge of his Trade
- The Might of the Valkyri runs through his veins, he is strong, stubborn, resilient, like most of his kind, and he follows the Faith of his people dutifully
- Time has brought wisdom to this old Warrior; he has seen many Battles, heard many tales, watched several Kings rise and fall, and knows the land he calls home as well as any other
[*]Weaknesses:
- Loss of his right eye reduces his perception, though many years without it has forced him to somewhat adjust
- Raised as a Blacksmith, not a Lord; He has been forced to swiftly adjust to both Command of Troops and the Governance of his Hold
- Not as Young as he used to be, Joramyr's body cannot handle the same strain it used to. While he remains a Valiant Warrior, it takes him much longer to recover after a Battle
- Wine does not agree with him; while he can drink his fill of mead, there's something about wine that will severely upset his stomach - He avoids it at all cost
- Since losing his Lady Wife during the attack of the Otherworlders, he has become a somewhat quiet and brooding man; he would do whatever it takes to see that the rest of his family survive any hardship thrown their way
- Technology is not something he abides; while he respects the children of Dawnbringer, he remains extremely skeptical of the strange and foreign devices they bring to his home, and given his age he is unlikely to adjust in time to see the stars
[*]Family And Relationships
The Bears of the North
House Varamund
- Family:
Lady Ineya Varamund, Late Wife - Meri Varamund, Eldest Daughter
- Threign Varamund, Eldest Son, Named after High King Threign Frostmane of Midvinter
- Thorrand Varamund, Youngest Son
[*]Friends:
Thrand Dawnbringer, Late High King of Midvinter, One of Joramyr's Closest Friends- Colborn Crowseye, Brother-In-Arms
[*]Named Household Members And Bannermen:
- Dorik Coldthorn, Forge Master of Valsten
- Baenir Islaf, Scout of Valsten
[*]Pets and Mounts:
- Mistin, Hardy Grey Mare
[*]Pre-Roleplay History
Born in the shadow of the Great Hall of Tháinbroek, Joramyr was raised to serve the High King and his family. He apprenticed with the King's Blacksmith from as soon as he was able, fetching ores, buckets of water, ensuring the fires did not burn out, and whenever a member of the Royal Household appeared within the workshop he was told to get out of sight or remain silent as a mute until they were gone. For the most part he was always overlooked, just another face in the crowd, until his Master saw it fit to teach him the way of the Forge.
He took to his duties like a fish to water, working dutifully and at so high a standard that the old Blacksmith eventually put up his feet and allowed Joramyr to run the shop in his place. Of course, the young Apprentice barely saw any of the payout from his sales. Such was the price for years of teaching.
The Death of High King Threign Frostmane shook the Royal Household; the Young Prince was pushed from his home, stripped of his inheritance, and many of his more loyal servants were cast from the Halls. Joramyr and his Master were among those wronged by the usurper, and they made their way from the Capital with little more than their lives. A burning hatred boiled within the young boy for the man they now had to call King, he who had disrupted their lives and cast them out with nary a thought. From that moment on he prayed to the Five to bring the one true King back to them.
Their journey brought them to the Lake of Mists, where a small settlement was nestled along its shores. The people there had little use for steel, they used the Lake for primary sustenance and the nearby forests to bring in wood for shelter.
Both Blacksmith and Apprentice bartered their way into the community with the promise of a few great axes with which to fell the trees, and soon after Joramyr landed a job on one of the fishing boats. It was horrid work, he stunk of brine and guts no matter how hard he scrubbed, his feet were always unbearably cold even by Valkyri standards, and his days were filled with misery stuck upon a boat with little to do or see.
During this time, Joramyr began to practice with the sword; one of his fellow fishermen had fought within a great battle, years before his birth, and claimed to be one of the greatest warriors the Lake of Mists had known in generations. As a boy who had grown up watching the young Prince swing a blade at the instruction of a great swordsman, he quickly knew this to be false... Yet the opportunity was too great to pass up.
When the Vinterbound came he was grateful for the lessons.
The simple settlement of fishermen and woodcutters was no match for the horde of icetouched beings, creatures that Joramyr had always thought to be tales used to scare children and keep them from wandering too far from home. His Master was surprisingly one of the first to fall, though he had tried to do the heroic thing and fight them off so that others could flee. Joramyr did not attempt the same bravado.
He fled from the village as quickly as he could, with what few possessions he owned, and stole one of the old fishing boats to sail away from the shore. Throughout the night he heard naught save the cries of men and woman as they were torn limb from limb, and when morning came and the smoke of unmanned fires rose into the air the true horror was revealed to him.
Gone were the scourge, leaving only pale bodies in their wake. Yet a few were missing, some of whom he knew had been slain early on. His Master was among them, as was the old warrior. Strangely enough he found no children among the slain. And no survivors.
Grief washed over him, and a distinct feeling of disgust toward his own cowardice. He swore, from that day on, to face any fight head on... He could not abide the thought of standing idly by and allowing similar to happen again.
Joramyr made the long trek back to Tháinbroek alone; several times during the journey he almost succumbed to death, at the hands of the great Frir, the threat of starvation, and a cough which rattled his chest and forced him to his knees. By the time he made it through the gargantuan gates he was a shadow of his former self.
Reprieve came to him in the form of an old Crowe. She looked upon the young man with kind eyes, and spoke of how he reminded her of her own son, Colborn, who was several years his junior. He was brought into the Crowseye home and nursed back to health under her watch. It took a great many weeks for Joramyr to refind his strength, and during this time he and Colborn grew particularly close. The younger boy promised to teach Joramyr to hunt once the weather became more bearable, and persuaded his mother to keep him around a little while longer.
She agreed provided Joramyr did something useful with his time.
Having found that he quite liked surviving, and despised the thought of the horde marching upon more of his people, Joramyr signed up for the City Guard and began to train as a member of their ranks. Soon he was brought out of the Crowseye Household to reside within the City Barracks, where food and clothing were provided as part of the job. He learned to shoot a bow, to wield an axe, but most of all his talents shined through with the broadsword.
A great many years passed before the City began to stir, a name murmured between the mouths of those who remained loyal to the True King. Civil War loomed on the horizon, and each man and woman seemed to take their side before any sign of battle arose. Seeing this as his prayers come true, Joramyr waited for any sign of Thrand's return and prepared for the battle which would no doubt ensue.
When the True King arrived, with family at his back, Joramyr was one of the first to pledge himself to the True King's cause. He offered to forge weapons and armour for his supporters, and brought some of the City Watch's might at his back, mostly friends he had made and men he had trained during his time there.
He remained by Thrand's side throughout the Battle of the Crownsland, one of many men who pledged their swords, and when the day was won he was Knighted by his King for his efforts. Once Tháinbroek was secured, and Thrand's position as King was no longer threatened, several men were given the Holds of those who had betrayed their Crown during succession, and among them was Joramyr who was given land to the North.
With this came a newfound responsibility, one that he did not at the time understand the full severity of. For a horde was marching South, as it had done in his youth, and this time it showed little sign of stopping. When he reached Valsten, the Hold which was now his, Joramyr gathered all bannermen pledged to his Hold to ensure their fealty. All pledged themselves to him that day.
For a time peace was known across Midvinter. While a few opposed the True King, they remained a severe minority and for the most part kept quiet and licked their wounds. During this time Joramyr wed the daughter of one of his bannermen, and soon after she was with child. The Gods blessed them with two children, Meri was their firstborn, a beautiful baby girl, and Threign their son and heir, named in honour of the late High King, came just a few minutes later.
The Horns of War came just after their fifth birthday.
A horde had been spotted just North of their hold, it was said that ice ran through their veins and the dead walked among them. Joramyr, who had done all he could to forget the horrors of his youth, was forced to act quickly, and he sent word to the King of the marching threat. Dozens of ravens flew that day, from several Northern Holds, each crying the same song of war.
The decision had to be made; did he keep his men in Valsten, to hold his seat, did he send them South to protect the King, North to stave them off, or split them and risk their integrity and strength?
He met with the other Northern Lords, where it was agreed that they would bring their forces together in defense of their home. A garrison was kept at each Hold, while men were sent both North and South to aid in the efforts. Joramyr himself traveled with the Southern Host to protect his King, a man whom he now saw as one of his closest friends since the Rebellion. His Family remained within Valsten under the watch of his Household Guard, with strict orders to head to the catacombs and bar the entry should the horde attack them directly.
Naturally they arrived ahead of the Vinterbound, and on the eve of battle he joined many of the other Lords at the King's table. Songs were sung, tankards were filled, and the spirit of the Valkyri ran freely. All retired early that night, for who knew when the horns would sound. It would not do to fight on so little sleep.
The attack on Tháinbroek was brutal, and relentless. The Vinterbound Horde assaulted the walls, razing the gates and laying waste to men and women indiscriminately. He stood at the breach alongside his friend and King, even as the great Behemoth bore down upon the walls and threatened to kill the Heir to Midvinter. He had sworn so long ago to stand tall in the face of adversity, he would not buckle now that everything he knew was in danger of being wiped out.
A sudden flash of light, unlike anything he had ever seen before, lay over the battleground, just as the High King fell to the onslaught they were all facing. In one fell swoop the horde was obliterated, a gift from the Gods for there was no other explanation, and in its wake silence remained.
At the foot of his family the Dawnbringer lay. Joramyr could not help but feel as though he had once again failed to do his duty, as he had back on the Lake of Mists, but his grief was nothing compared to that of the Royal Family. Rather than wait around for death to claw at his friend, the now aging Knight set forth from Tháinbroek with his men at his back, hellbent on tracking down any remaining Vinterbound which lingered around the City.
He missed the King's funeral in his bid for vengeance, and the coronation of his son, making his way back North to pick off any stray members of the horde. When the sun rose on the seventh day Joramyr felt certain that his friend stood beside him for a moment, before ascending to the skies above - taking his place among the God as the first mortal to ascend to their realm.
Such was felt across all of Midvinter, where Thrand Dawnbringer was hailed as the Sun God... Saviour of the Valkyri. And rightfully so.
In time he returned home, an almost unrecognizable man truly seasoned by war and strife. He watched over his children, taught his son to use a blade, and gathered forces from across Midvinter to aid in his efforts against the Vinterbound. He would not be satisfied until their scourge plagued his home no longer.
This brought about the founding of the Vinterguard, a group dedicated to the eradication of the Vinterbound; they hunted far and wide, for months at a time, in search of what little remained, and more often than not Joramyr would join them in their endeavors. His Lady Wife remained at Valsten, dutifully watching over the Hold in his absence, and during one of his times of rest he noticed that she was heavy with child.
Another blessing from the Gods above.
When war came once again to the land, Joramyr chose to remain in Valsten to hold his land and keep his family safe. For what could he do to aid the new King in threats which were beyond their world? What use would he be against technology he did not understand?
It turned out that remaining behind was the better decision in the end; Valsten, alongside many of the Northern Holds, was attacked by the extraplanar monsters who were capable of moving across the entirety of Midvinter in a matter of minutes. Shortly before their arrival his Lady Wife had given birth to another son, Thorrand, and when the outsiders arrived he did all that he could to keep her safe despite their obvious disadvantage.
When they stormed the Hold Joramyr and his men fought off as many as they could, but during the fray his Lady Wife was slaughtered. His newborn son and the twins were swiftly smuggled away by the Captain of his Guard, and several strange beings from beyond the veil stepped in to aid them. He found out afterward that they followed one of the Dawnbringer's sons to defend Midvinter, and Joramyr realized that even now his friend was doing all he could to defend his home, even from Beornskald.
The battle was won, though like that for the Crownsland, and for Tháinbroek, the death toll was high.
Joramyr gave his Lady Wife a proper Valkyri send off at the Lake of Mists, and struggled with the thought of raising three children without her. While he had married to forge alliances, and strengthen his position in Valsten, he had grown to deeply love her, and could not imagine a world without her. He grew somewhat withdrawn and quiet, bitter of the seat he held, and furious toward the men from beyond the stars and their world-wrecking technology.
While he adores his children, he finds it painful to look upon Thorrand especially. He dedicates time to the twins learning, teaching both how to defend themselves, how to lead men, and govern the Hold, how to work hard despite their position. And though it pains him to do so, he keeps Thorrand close by whenever he is not away with Vinterguard business... After all, he is the last piece of his beloved wife.
Roleplay Listings
[*]Bow Before Your King
[*]When In Midvinter
[*]When Stars Fall To Shake The Earth
[*]The Night Is Dark And Full Of Terrors
