Bryden

## Biography

Bio; Farming was to be his life.

Born in Sevenstreams, Bryden grew up in a way a great deal would be jealous of. Days were long, the sun a constant companion, the people he grew up around were friendly enough, welcoming of outsiders, and strife was a distant memory. Harvests were bountiful, the village prosperous. As he grew he made friends, he ranged for miles with people like himself; with no great destinies, no great power, simply the children of people, simply children who’d grow into people, who’d live and laugh and love, and welcome the next generation.

Farming was to be his life, yet unforseen events had other ideas.

In the year 376, soon after the attempted negotiation between the Crimson Ones and the Smiths went awry, roving bands of either side found their way towards Sevenstreams. Believing the town to possess supplies, an attack was planned. The Crimson Ones set up camp on one flank, the Smiths’ the other. A Smith by the name of Ryman - who’d become recently less impressed by his chosen side’s actions - deserted his camp and warned the villagers. At first there was some degree of panic. The majority wished to run. To give the attackers what it was they sought.

Brynden, then thirty and owner of a farm, his parents having long passed, refused. The land was theirs, he argued, and to allow these men to take what they wanted would only lead to more violence down the line. It took the course of a night, but he managed to bring them to his side, and, with the help of a few hedge knights stranded within Sevenstreams, a defence was planned. They had no real weapons - rusty swords that had hung up on farmhouses from generations beforehand, farm-sycthes refitted with rusty iron heads to function more as rudimentary spears, a few poorly strung bows and arrows lacking in quality - but yet still they’d try. He sent off a messenger to the Twins, but on foot the man would take days.

The first attack came two days hence, just a few hours past sun-up. The Crimson Ones attacked from the left at first, from near the banks of the river. They rushed forth with a quiet determination, they held their weapons aloft, and they died. Quickly they fell into traps dug under cover of darkness, and though they noticed, they didn’t notice before confusion had spread. Couple that with the Smith’s attacking from the forest, meeting both the Crimson Ones and a small contingent consisting of a few of the hedge knights and armed villagers, confusion again spread in the ranks of both attackers, and before the afternoon broke they had peeled away. Damaged, not defeated. The next day saw different results, with the Smiths attacking at night, taking a decent stock of grain and setting a few barns alight. The people managed to get things under control, but not before Ryman and two of the hedge knights had attempted to organised a hasty defense for the sudden appearance of Crimson Ones from the other direction. The rush left the villagers confused. Ryman, the hedge knights, and seventeen villagers were killed.

Shaken by this loss, Bryden was unsure he could continue the leadership of the defense. It was a local woman named Alarei who reaffirmed his resolve, bringing Bryden a plan to shake the attackers. Pig fat, she said, when set alight would burn well. What’s more is, if attempted to be extinguished with water, the flames only grew more violent. Bryden was impressed, agreed to at least attempt such a plan, and the two began to bond. In the wee hours of the third night, two parties slipped from Sevenstreams; one toward the Smiths and one the Crimson Ones. Sacks of pig fat were launched at both camps’ tents, and confusion spread.

No attack came the next day.

Yet on the fifth day, as proved their luck, it became clear both the Crimson Ones and the Smiths had abandoned their animosity for one another. Starvation had driven them to coming together as one force to take the food they desired in one final attempt.

Having not the manpower for this, Bryden ordered the remaining women and children, and any man who sought to know peace, from Sevenstreams. He and the remaining hedge knights would buy them ample time. None took him up on his offer.

And so as the attackers sallied forth, armed and armoured, and mad with hunger, Bryden prayed not for himself, but for those around him. For Alarei.

Eyes shut tight, he was only dimly aware of the horn’s call. Confused, reticent to open his eyes to find a horror, and frozen to the spot, Bryden waited.

He need not have worried. House Frey had come. Men came - friendly men - and swept through the small force. His message had fallen on his Lord’s ears.

By the end of the day, the attackers had been dealt with. The Villagers called him a hero, yet he wouldn’t have it. Men and women had died under him. Though he’d succeeded, he counted it a failure. Despite this, he’d learned to fortify.

But life went on. Sevenstreams rebuilt what they’d lost. Bryden went back to his farm. The six hedge knights hung up their swords and became residents. No one argued, they’d fought not for themselves, they’d earned their place.

Things are peaceful, for a time. Occasionally someone drifts through looking for the Saviour of Sevenstreams, beds down at the inn and say they won’t budge until they’ve spoken with him, and each time they do Bryden and the rest say they’ve never heard of such a man, and they depart disappointed, confused.

He fathers children. Boys and girls. They get a couple of dogs, the farm grows. In 390AC, the shadow of War settles over the Seven Kingdoms, and again Bryden decides to take up arms so others might not have to. He kisses his wife and children goodbye. He leaves to begin his service, first in the Riverlands Retinue, then in the Liberation Front.

At some point during the Third Targaryen Invasion Bryden would see Sevenstreams defended once again from a much larger force of the Dragon’s men. Though his involved much less fighting, and became a war of attrition, and then, eventually, a negotiation. The Commander of the force, a man named Balion, on the morning of his small host’s departure, took Bryden’s hand and thanked him for being a gentleman.

Bryden returned to the efforts to liberate the Riverlands, participating in some degree to most major battles and sieges fought in the territory. Either by fighting, or by healing. Having learned from Alarei and also some frontline physicians, Bryden found himself quite proficient in mending bones and sewing wounds. It was for this he took a stint as a frontline medic.

At the end of the war, Bryden is asked to stay on in the army. Perhaps one day become a commander in his own right. The men, he was told, loved him, would follow him. Bryden refused, stating that his place in life was never above his fellow man, but beside him, working together.

He returned to Sevenstreams. Returned to farming. Until he turned fifty, where he handed the farm over to his eldest. He and Alarei enjoyed a few peaceful years travelling the length and breadth of the Seven Kingdoms, visiting far flung Dorne to sample the wine, walking the streets of Oldtown, and even at one point viewing the Court in Session within the Red Keep. Occasionally people would look twice, stare in confusion as to where they knew him from, yet Bryden would only smile and nod.

Then Alarei passed peacefully. Bryden wept, buried his wife in Sevenstreams, where the whole village turned out to bury her with him, and proclaimed her day of birth Alarei’s Day, promising where-upon they would take a day of rest and celebrate a town hero.

Bryden went on, yet found himself restless. Sevenstreams needed him no longer, and so he’d make the decision to travel North, to take the Black.

## Timeline

342 - Brynden is born

376 - Bryden leads a defense against two parties of attackers, meeting his future- wife in the process

390 - Bryden decided to take up arms once more when his homeland is threatened, again saves Sevenstreams from being razed by Targaryen loyalists

396 - Alarei passes, Alarei’s Day is proclaimed a holy day in Sevenstreams

398 - Bryden, restless, heads North to take the Black