A Lost Icon IC (SoIaF)

[Celticbear]

The Markard house is a proud house. Unlucky, filled with mistakes, but still proud. Their sigil is the mountain goat, an animal who has never been tamed, despite its appearances, and the house is a reflection of this animal. Despite appearance, this house is still proud.

The lord of this house, a man by the name of Marian, is the younger brother to Darian. Darian died fighting on the wrong side of King Robert's rebellion. Robert, being told of house Markard's previous misfortunes, gave the house pity. They would keep their small holdfast in the barren mountains as long as Marian swore fealty to the new king.

Now Marian lords over the house sitting on a great oaken chair with a valerian steel shortsword set just above him. His younger brother Tristan and the Maester Owen give strong and smart council to the lord now. Septa Sofiara teaches over the children of the holdfast. Ser Arlen Mastac leads the guard. Reina Hill both grieves for her lost father Darian, and practices her fighting skills with Seacat, a ward given to the house for past aggression.

Many people, important people, live and serve house Markard, all of them proud. Though today, in the midst of summer, something strange has occurred. This strange occurrence will spark an even stranger series of events. Today the men on the walls of the castle are reporting that a man has arrived. This man is dressed in what appears to be Dothraki leather, weilding a sword made from black metal, and is followed by a massive wolf. The man also claims to be Jackard Hill, bastard son of Darian Markard, and twin brother of Reina Hill.

[EarthenRite]

Maester Owen sighed as he leaned back from hanging the gathered herbs to dry from the exposed beam of the lower floor of his tower by the castle Keep. Things ached more now as age and a distant-coming winter combined. His leg was stiff and sore as always, but moreso acutely these past days. He took up his walking stick and made his way over to the thick book that was open there. Dipping his quill, he penned the descriptions and the amount of the herbs he was drying. Records were the lifeblood of the mind and while not glamourous they did keep everything going.

He looked up at the loft area. There would be an interesting vantage on the stars tonight and he knew the day's labours would be manageable with that on the horizon. He spared a few moments to go over his schedule in his mind. He would seek out Marian where ever he was to deliver his messages and take new ones. After that, the young lord Tristan. Perhaps today he would check on the childrens' education. Unlike most Maesters he was not dismissive of the Faith's place in life but he did want to make sure he offered his services too.

A distant cry from the keep's walls caught his attention, and with the level of commotion being kicked up he knew his plans would have to wait. Hurrying down, as best a man with injuries such as his could, he went to one of the guards who was not presently going somewhere else, undoubtedly to warn someone or another.

"What is it? I hear someone is outside? There is an awful lot of commotion."

[Gareth3]

Tristan is engrossed in Maester Erik's Sellswords of the Modern Age when the commotion downstairs interrupts his reading. As he descends the stairs, he's still on the plains of Essos, facing a thousand screaming Dothraki... He shakes his head to clear it. Exciting as Erik's writing is, it can hardly be an up-to-date description of contemporary mercenaries. He'll need to do research in person, if his plan is going to work. At ground level, he sees a few worried-looking guards and Seacat.

"Filthy Ironmen invading again? No offense, Cat."

[Shimmer]

Tossing her braid over her shoulder Kat let out a derisive snort of amusement as she arches a brow at the young lord before nodding towards the gates.

"If my kin were invading we'd have more pressing problems on our hands." She quipped, with the barest hint of a toothy smile. From the shadows the rumble of her great cat could be heard as the beast slunk from where it had been lounging to the side to twine itself about it's mistress like a great spotted coat. The creature, Ebon, as Kat called it seemed to get bigger by the day already easily coming up to it's mistresses chest and having set the hounds to cowering with it's size.

"Though it does look like we've a guest about Ma'lord." Kat added deeming to toss out his title though it was done more so in teasing as she side-eyed the restless men at arms.

"Shall we go greet them and see if they mean to be friend or foe?" She inquired unslinging her bow from it's holster just on the off case it was the latter rather then the former.

[igordragonian]

Septa Sofiara was about to finis her lesson. "And thay why, one cannot trust a mortal's generosity: " The smalles pebble will shatter the greatest castle which is made from glass." Seven Pointed Star, Fathers, 23, 7"
The lesson took place at the castle's chapel- small, yet worthy place of the seven: the misfortune, actually led the Lord to generosity toward the seven in hope for a divine aid.
So far, it seemed, that the Seven graced this family with a trust at their faith, which they have challened and tested over and over, as if they were preparing them for something.
The children- mostly of the knights's children, but also children of servants, who could allow the children to learn instead of aiding them.

When the noise was heard, Sofiara sent instinctivly her hand to the seven star meddalion on her chest. Her blue eyes darted to all directions.
"Children... The lesson of today is over. Get back imeaditly to your parents. Now." Sofiara said with ill contained panic, ironicly demonstrsting the very phrase she has quoted.

She held her long dress and walked as fast, as she could while staying graceful.

[WMO?]

Ser Arlan Mastac was giving his breastplate a good monthly once-over with the toughest brush he could find when one of the servants' boys burst in babbling about a black bastard with a wolf.

"Slow down, lad! You'll flap your tongue out of your mouth you will. Say it as it happened." Arlan said, setting aside his work.

Finally hearing what the watchman at the gate wanted his young messenger to report, the hefty knight showed a surprising amount of hustle getting to the top of the wall to have a look for himself. Arlan had never met the late Lord Darian, but he knew the faces of Lord Marian, his young brother, their bastard niece and the sweet septa well enough. The strange fellow waiting below looked a bit like all, and a bit like none.

Arlan called down, "Good day. I am Ser Arlan Mastac, captain of the household guard. I shall tell Lord Marian of your arrival." He retreated out of view with slow dignity, but then huffed his way as quick as he could to the lord's chambers.

"There's a man at the gate claiming to be one Jackard Hill, bastard to your late brother, m'lord," Arlan reported, sharing the details of the wolf, foreign dress, and odd blade.

[Celticbear]

Marian considers the knight's statement. Marian himself is wearing a green doublet, his brown beard recently cut to just the stubble.

Many years ago, one of Darian's twins went off to see the world. We all expected him dead but... Ser, I want you to bring this man here. Under guard, of course.

[WMO?]

"Of course, m'lord. Shall I offer him bread and salt, m'lord?"

[Celticbear]

"Of course, m'lord. Shall I offer him bread and salt, m'lord?"

Marian responds: He isn't a visiting lord. He's just a bastard. He might not even be that.

[WMO?]

Ser Arlan nods and heads back to the gate. "Open it up! You two, help me escort him to see the lord," he says, beckoning over a pair of guards.

[igordragonian]

"Isn't he.. a family, then?" Sofiara has asked Marian.
"Shouldn't we treat him with hospitality?"

[Celticbear]

"Isn't he.. a family, then?" Sofiara has asked Marian.
"Shouldn't we treat him with hospitality?"

How do we know he is truly family? He may be another assassin, and the Seven know we have had plenty of those.

[Gareth3]

Tristan sees Jackard, if that's his real name, as he's escorted in to meet the Lord. He's shocked at the man's Dothraki clothing for a moment, as if the antagonists of his book have come to life and pursued him. But he quickly notices the man is not Dothraki. He looks a little like Tristan's brother the Lord. Or, he realises, like the face in the mirror each morning. He calls out to the man.
Jackard...
He trails off, unsure how to continue. Possibly-fraudulent bastard half-brothers don't fit well into formal etiquette. He notices the... dog? Wolf?
Is that thing tame?

[igordragonian]

Sofira bowed her head.


"That may be true. Be we still could gain use from him,
if we are careful enough

[Celticbear]

The strange man, in response to Tristran, says: You mean Sanguinarie? Of course he's tame.

Jackard pauses for a few seconds, and says: It has definitely been a while since I was here. How old was I, 10? Less? Doesn't matter, I'm home. Darian, my father, how fares he?

[Gareth3]

Tristan is surprised and annoyed at first that the man hasn't heard of Darian's death. But thinking it over, Markard is a minor House and if he's been far enough away, he wouldn't necessarily know. Tristan realises Jackard is waiting for an answer.
I'm sorry to tell you Darian was killed in battle. Your sister is alive and well.

[EarthenRite]

As the man was led in under escort, Owen stepped in with the party to walk to the Lord's chamber. Wise minds, as he remembered the adage, kept quiet tongues. The group quickly outpaced him and he was left to follow, observing the prodigal bastard in detail.

Within the chamber he stepped behind, off to the side after entering quietly. He knew they would be conversing, and it was best if he was not noticed lest he needed to be asked for counsel, or was compelled to speak on a matter relevant to his duties.

[Sahe]

The clanging of blunted steel and dry cracking of wood had been filling the air of the sparring ring near Silverpeak since the early morning. 20 Men had been sweating away in their gambesons under the sharp eyes of Reina Hill. Most of her recruits where still young and all of them were inexperienced, but she would whip them into form, although she was quite sure they all already had the one or other nasty nickname for her. It didn't matter, if anyone would be brave (or stupid enough) to utter them to her face she would put them back in their place. She was taller than all of them and her voice commanded respect.

"Hold your shields UP! They're meant to protect you from the enemy, not the ground! Back to starting positions! Again!"

She watched as a groan went through the men, but they did as ordered and went at it again while Reina walked the rows of sparring pairs up and down, correcting and giving individual advice where she saw need. Her attention was drawn away from the recruits when she saw a rider quickly approaching the sparring field. "Halt! Form ranks!", Reina ordered the training men and watched as they scrambled to form two unorderly lines. As the rider came closer she recognized Merran, one of the men of household guard, he brought his horse to a halt and didn't even bother to unsaddle before addressing Reina. "Milady Reina, your presence is required at the hall at once. A young man has arrived claiming to be your twin brother."

For a moment, Reina was overtaken with a bit of a shock. She hadn't thought to ever hear of her brother again. But she didn't waste time with any further questions and immediately swung herself into the saddle of her courser Winter. "Training's over for today, we'll continue this tomorrow!", Reina called out to the waiting men and could see the relief on their faces, but that wasn't important right now as she already cantered towards Silverpeak Hall to investigate these news about her twin brother.

When she reached the hall, she barely took the time to press Winter's reigns into some stableboy's hands before bursting into the hall.

At first, Reina almost didn't recognize him. He was much older, dressed in strange clothes and with an equally strange blade at his hip and a disturbing black beast following his every step. If not for his eyes, she might not have recognized him at all. She wasn't sure if she should punch him or hug him, torn between the two she just stood there for a moment staring at him with disbelief, before speaking, "Brother, what...what do you want here?"

[Celticbear]

Jackard's face immediately goes down at his father's fate, but lights up as soon as he sees Reina.

Sister you would not believe the things I've seen. I'm not quite sure what I want, but I am sure that I've seen enough of the world for one lifetime. Years ago when I said that I left to join the... it is a long story. One that I would also appreciate to tell inside.

[Gareth3]

Tristan is relieved Jackard doesn't have more questions about his father's death. It's hard to explain fighting on the side of a lunatic who your own liege's heir had to kill. He follows Jackard and Reina, keeping quiet for now and letting them talk.

[Sahe]

"You will have to do better than that, little brother", Reina answered him in a serious tone, yet teasing him that she was born first, like when they were kids. He had some nerve to show up after all these years. "We sure could've used you," Reina continued with a bitterness in her voice.

[Celticbear]

Jackard looks down, and says Things became... complicated when I left. I wish I could have come back earlier, but I couldn't.


He waits a while before continuing I've been to Essos, Bravos, Dhorne, North of the Wall, and other places. I travelled the world,
which is apparently a beautiful and terrifying place. I never made it to the Night's Watch. On my way there I was kidnapped by wildlings. They brought me North, and I stayed there for months. That's where I met Sanguinarie. I then left in a ship, hit a stray wind and a storm and ended up in Essos. That's where I got the blade, some sort of black steel. I stowed away on a ship which I thought was headed for Weseros, but went to Bravos instead. I then learned how to fight there, fight better I should say. After that I stowed away in the right ship, ended up in Dhorne. I went north and here I am. I'm sorry I couldn't go with you into the war. I heard terrible things, but by the time I actually got to hear what happened I was already too late.

[Gareth3]

Tristan tries to keep a skeptical silence, but fails when Jackard mentions his latest obsession.
Who taught you to fight in Braavos?

[Celticbear]

Jackard pauses, then says abruptly: I went to many teachers.

[igordragonian]

Sofiara couldn't handle the waiting. She went outside, and turned pale seeing the man. "By the seven's!" she gasped.
"Where were you all the time?"

[Celticbear]

Travelling the world, mostly by accident. answers the man.

[WMO?]

"He's just told us of his journeys, m'lady." turning to Jackard, Arlen asks, "You say you couldn't come back. Why was that? Why do you return now?"

[Celticbear]

"He's just told us of his journeys, m'lady." turning to Jackard, Arlen asks, "You say you couldn't come back. Why was that? Why do you return now?"

No ships left for Westoros until the war ended, and the ship I stowed away in back in Essos left for Bravos.

[igordragonian]

Sofiara has listened silently.

[Gareth3]

Tristan can sense that the questions are getting close to things Jackard doesn't care to discuss. Focus on the future, then.
What are your plans now?

[Celticbear]

Tristan can sense that the questions are getting close to things Jackard doesn't care to discuss. Focus on the future, then.
What are your plans now?

After coming back here? I don't know.

[igordragonian]

Sofiara smiled. 'Are you back here... for good?'

[WMO?]

"Aye, what're you doing now? Are you to be a part of the family again?"