Iríon Blackfyre

### Discord

**Iríon Blackfyre**, Son of Iróne and First of His Name, is the sole member of House Blackfyre. He chose to leave behind all he had lost in his homeland, braving the wilds and vales for seven long years. After much wandering, Iríon found a place that offered him somewhere he could start over. Ef'thar.

Burying his pain and loss, Iríon now seeks to rebuild his house in this strange new land. He wishes to return meaning to the name Blackfyre and repent for the dishonour he once brought upon it, less it die with him and fade into obscurity.

## Early History

Born within the walls of his family's estate, Iríon was the youngest son of Lord Iróne Blackfyre. From a young age he was educated in the ways of nobility so that he might one day bring great honour to his house. As well as his mentors and tutors, Iríon also recieved guidance from his older brother, Ithric. The two were inseparable, a bond that would last until Ithric's death at the Burning of the Golden Stag.

As a result of rising tensions and instability within the region, allegiances between the ruling factions had begun to strain. Mandates issued by the reigning king at the time had resulted in food shortages and poverty across the whole kingdom, which was something House Blackfyre would not be a part of. Lord Iróne declared that his house would not abide by the extortionate taxes and restrictions on trade the king had placed over the kingdom, which did not go over well in his majesty's royal court. Though they were a minor house Lord Iróne and his family represented a threat agaisnt the king's rule, which was enough to drive the king to war; joined by the armies of those loyal to him, the king marched on the city of House Blackfyre.

What followed was a long and gruelling siege in which the king's soldiers employed all kinds of heinous tactics to use against the city and its people. The river that flowed through the city was poisoned with the flesh of the undead, causing those who drank from it to become ravenous with hunger and attack their fellow citizens. Silverfish were placed upon the walls and allowed to infest the surrounding stone, forcing the guards to repair them with whatever they could find to prevent them from slowly crumbling. They even blew mycelium spores over the walls to ruin any exposed food stores. Despite all of this, Iríon's father would not waver. People were dying from disease and starvation; half of their guards were too weak to fight. Not willing to stand idly by and allow the people to die one by one, he gathered the few men strong enough to fight who were willing to follow his command. From there, Iríon and his men stormed the gatehouse, disarming anyone that tried to stop them. They raised the portcullis and opened the gates, with Iríon himself stepping out to meet the king's men. It was his hope that the king would grant the people mercy if he helped achieve his house's surrender, but things would not turn out that way.

Iríon was beaten, bound and dragged through the streets as hundreds of men poured into the city. They were of course met with resistance, but morale had already been decimated. Their archers shot the guards who tried to run, their fighters butchered those who did not. Eventually the enemy breached the keep, with the king himself personally dragging Iríon through the corridors until they eventually reached the grand hall. Once there, the king threw him to the floor, right beneath his father's feet. Iríon was then made to watch as the entirety of House Blackfyre was slaughtered. His father, his brother, his sister, his nephew, his own wife and child. All were put to the sword... all but him. The king left Iríon laying in a pool of his family's blood, allowing him to live with the shame he had brought upon himself. It was not long before the smell of smoke overcame the iron smell of blood, as the whole city burned. Everything that would catch a spark was put to the torch and, were it not for a primal instinct to flee, Iríon would have allowed himself to burn.

Though he escaped the flames, he would not escape his own guilt. He wanted to nothing to do with the spark of rebellion his house's destruction would ignite, so decided to leave his homeland. For seven long years he wandered, fighting every day to keep himself going. Though his pain would never go away, over time it would begin to lessen; when he happened upon the lands of Ef'thar, he decided that it was finally time to stop running.