Rickard Greywinde

Ser Rickard Greywinde

Rick

Greywinde

Garth Stonecroft

Barroth Stonecroft

Ser Gordon Oldgrove

Emlee Flowers

House Redwater (formerly)

Ser Rickard Greywinde is a knight and bannerman under House Brightflame. Through his kind and humourous nature, he has become a popular and respected follower of House Brightflame, but also an underestimated one.

## Appearance and Character

Rickard is a tall and strong man, with broad shoulders and powerful arms. He is not particularly muscular, but this is not to say that he is not a strong man; his Northern constitution surprises many who would otherwise consider him no different to any other. On his right shoulder is a scar he sustained during the battle Beyond the Wall against the White Walkers and their wights. His forearms are criss-crossed with scars and burn marks from when he pulled Ser Terrance the Towering from a burning tent in his journey to Essos, and a small puncture wound adorns his right thigh from the blade of a Whent peasant during the Ambush of House Whent. His torso, too, is heavily scarred from his captivity under Ramsey Bolton during the A Dark Winter Event.

Despite the harrowing experiences Rickard has been subjected to, he maintains an air of casualness and humour. This, however, is often a coping mechanism; he is a deeply troubled man, yet would feel guilty if any were to know about it. His wit is often the subject of ridicule, as is his inability to hold his tongue nor recognise social hierarchy. Much to the disdain of his associates, Rickard follows a strong moral code and is often seen reflecting on his actions. He is also a heavy eater and sleeper and is known to sleep through entire feasts.

## History

### Early Life

Rickard was born to Lady Laina Greywinde *(née Oldgrove)* and Lord Barrion Greywinde in the years before what would come to be called the War of the Five Kings. The exact dates of both his birth and other such details are the subject of great debate, as they were never properly documented. Rickard does, however, consider himself at the least 26 years of age. As a boy, he was trained in the martial arts by various swordsmen, as his paraplegic father was unable to do so. He grew up kind and compassionate, tutored in the ways of the world by his mentor and confidante, Maester Garth.

At the vulnerable age of 10, his birthday celebrations were cut short when bandits, posed as a troupe of mummers, seized his family's estate and murdered the inhabitants, including a majority of the garrison, save for a man known only as the Old Bear, who could one day come to be Rickard's closest, and perhaps, only true friend. Rickard's uncle, Alyn, was also in attendance and escaped, returning only to recover Rickard's family sword from the sackers. Following the sacking of the estate, Rickard was whisked away to finish his tutelage in Oldtown, his mother Laina's former home, where she awaited him, unbeknowning of the massacre at Greywood. His father, Barrion, was murdered in his seat.

### Life in Oldtown

Rickard moved to Oldtown as an outsider, followed by dire news. Escorted by old Maester Garth, he rode long and hard to the white-walled city. Scarred and quiet, the boy struggled to adjust to his new surroundings. Following the death of her soulmate, his mother became a recluse for months, refusing to speak to anyone but her son. She had me her husband in the years before the war, when the young warrior had toured the southern states, learning how to fight and to ride. Their chance reunion after the war had done nothing but strengthen their bond; it was fate that the two of them would be together. Now, with Barrion dead, she became lost and shattered. Rickard too became a quiet boy, remaining in his quarters throughout the day, speaking only to his mother, his younger cousin Emlee Flowers and Maester Garth, the man who had protected and raised him. The old maester was, in fact, instrumental in the recovery of the two Greywindes and through his kindness the two slowly returned normality to their lives.

Rickard, having cleared his mind, dedicated himself to sword-play; his father had been a strong man and an idol for the boy growing up, strong and protecting. But as the only man left in the Greywinde line, it fell upon him to, ultimately restore the family, but until then, he had to protect his mother, the only one he had left. So, on the morn of every day, he woke and sparred, be it with his cousin Gordan Oldgrove or the captain of the Oldgrove guard, Willas *(of who's company Rickard much preferred; Gordan proved to be a bullheaded and boastful child, never truly accepting his Northern cousin)*. Through his commitment, Rickard became strong both in body and in will; he would never again let his family be so greatly wounded.

It cannot be said that Rickard was a brilliant swordsman; in fact, he was rather average. However, he had inherited not just his mother's wit and compassion, but his father's strength and sense of duty. His size, stature and sheer willpower made him a formidable opponent on the field, his broad shoulders perfectly shaped for the use of a greatsword. Through his time in the capital of the Reach, he also learned to ride. This was where the boy shone; with a lance in his hand and a fire in his belly he was near unstoppable. His solid build and quick reflexes made him almost infallible in jousts. He quickly became an adept jouster and mounted swordsman, proving his worth in grand tournaments that the Tyrells sponsored.

He even caught the eye of one or two ladies of the realm *(though, we must be truthful in admitting that he was never game to go through with anything).* One of these such ladies was Jaena Wylde, a cousin of the famed house Wylde of Rain House and the brother of Ser Gladden Wylde, who would later perish attempting to bring Ser Gregor Clegane to justice in the name of Lord Eddard Stark.

The girl approached him after a tourney, in which he had placed second *(unhorsed by a knight, no less)*. They were about the same age, 17. Rickard had made quite a name for himself in the years prior. They attended the subsequent feast together, where the two showed quite obvious affection for one another. Jaena was a pretty girl, no one could deny that, and young Rickard was positively infatuated with her. She laughed at his jokes and listened intently to his tales. She, too, began to care for the boy, who poured her wine and complimented her. At the end of the feast, the two went their separate ways. This, however, was not for long. The boy, sword on his hip and hood around his head, rode long and hard for Rain House. There, he was reunited with Jaena and *(quite childishly)* the two proclaimed their love for one another. They parted, Rickard filled to the brim with happiness. It was after his return to Oldtown that Rickard learned the truth; Jaena loved another, and the two had been betrothed only weeks after he had visited her. Both embarrassed and saddened, Rickard stopped talking to the girl. Once again, he returned to nothing but his swordwork.

One might believe, that due to his relationship with his cousin Gordan, that he was a lonely child, who made little friends and did not compromise easily. This is only partially true. A few years after his own birth, his uncle Daelor Oldgrove *(who was unhappy in his marriage)*, met in secret with a lady-of-the-night. It was during that meeting that Rickard's cousin, Emlee Flowers, was conceived. Being a man of honour, if not also clouded thought, Daelor brought the woman into his home and sheltered her. This, of course, put great strain on his family, but months after, Emlee was born. Daelor raised her as kindly as he raised Gordan, but Emlee did not receive the same love from her adoptive mother, Caryss, who was Gordan's biological mother. She whispered hate into Gordan's ear, making him hate his half-sister too. Emlee grew up as nothing more than glorified servant.

Upon Rickard's arrival in Oldtown, he and the young girl began to bond; they were both despised by Gordan and Caryss, who had also spewed hatred towards the Greywindes to her son. They found refuge with one another and became fast friends. They spent time playing in the streets, playing tricks on the shopkeeps, the guards and most of all, Gordan. As they grew, they became one another's confidantes; they understood each other. This all culminated, however, the day of Emlee's 16th birthday. The celebrations had been minimal; Rickard, Maester Garth, Laina and gathered, with the old maester preparing a modest cake for her. Rickard had spent some of his tourney winnings on a necklace, inlaid with gold in the shape of a flower. The celebrations were brief but happy, the young girl positively thrilled by her present. In addition, her cousin gifted her a pouch of the last of his winnings. Emlee, a pocket full of gold coins, set out into the markets. Rickard followed at a distance, hoping to play a trick on her.

Emlee disappeared down an alleyway, her shadow darting after her. In the distance, Rickard heard raised voices; those of Emlee and Gordan. He followed, hearing shouting and laughing, the former turning into screaming. Rickard began to run, whipping around the corners. He emerged into a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by towering, low-rent apartments. Gordan held his sister by the wrist, prying the purse of gold from her hands. She resisted, trying to pull away from her tormentor, who simply tightened his grip. Rickard called out in protest, stepping towards the two. His cousin scoffed, wrapping his fingers around Emlee's necklace and snapping it, throwing the trinket aside. In response, he suffered a slap from his sister. Enraged, Gordan slapped her back, sending her sprawling in the dirt. Rickard, positively livid, drew his sparring blade and moved forward to protect his dear cousin, placing himself between her and Gordon. A line of blood ran down her face, from where Gordan's gloved hand had split the skin.

Gordan too drew his blade, but as a squire, he held a true weapon, with a glinting, sharp blade. Rickard, not being a total fool, readied himself to defend; this blade could kill him with but a slip. Gordan swung first, a savage, brute strike that missed his cousin by mere inches. Rickard, shocked but ready, allowed the blade to pass by him before stepping forward, using his own poor imitation to strike at Gordan's ribs, winding the boy. Gordan, angered even further, swung indigantly at the Northerner's head. Rickard, with reflexes of lightning, flicked his light blade upwards, holding it by the blade and hilt, blocking Gordan's strike with great strain, his forefigners being sliced by his cousin's sliding blade. Summoning all his strength, he pushed back against the older boy's blade, shoving it aside and striking out with his freed hand, smacking Gordan square in the nose, breaking it and sending blood spraying. Mind clouded and racing, he pressed his advantaged, striking the wounded boy on the back with his blunted sword and sending him too sprawling in the dirt. Gordan rose slowly, spitting at the Northman's feet and uttering the infamous words *"You're a twat, Greywinde. You and my bastard sister".* Rickard simply scoffed, helping Emlee to her feet and tearing a piece of cloth from his tunic to stem her bleeding. He responded in a fashion that he knew the bully would understand: *"Go fuck yourself, Gordan. Otherwise, I'll get my sword to do it for you".* Gordan never proved to be an issue again.

Rickard spent the rest of his years informally squiring under the tutelage of Captain Willas, now Ser Willas of Oldtown, learning how to wield a proper blade. He spent this time wisely, hacking back and forth at cane dummy after cane dummy. When he wasn't defeating hordes of practice dummies, he was treating Ser Willas' armour and swords, a task he found strangely meditative. Now a strong lad of 19, he was a competent fighter and, under the teachings of Maester Garth, a learned one. His heart, though, was split in two; half of him was a squire, a Reachman. The other was a Northman, who yearned for the cold and the taste of ale in his belly. He yearned to finally find solstice and normality in his life, to finally find his place.

### Knighthood

He did, however, earn his place among the nobility one day whilst out riding with Ser Willas. The two became separated, with Rickard straying into the forest alone. As he tried to find his way home, he heard the sound of hooves and steel against steel. He rode in the direction of the noise, finding a forest clearing. In the centre stood a well dressed man beside a dead, arrow-riddled horse, surrounded by a group of poorly armed brigands. The warrior spurred his horse towards them, knocking one from their feet with his horse, smacking another with the flat of his sword. He dispatched the last of the three brigands before descending from his horse. The man turned out to be a Ser Loras Florent, a half-cousin of the lord of Brightwater Keep. The portly knight retrieved his own sword from the ground, thanking his saviour and asking if the man was a knight. When Rickard replied no, the large man simply smiled, telling the boy to kneel. Rickard, too polite to refuse, did so without a second thought. Then and there, he became Ser Rickard Greywinde, in a less than heroic ceremony, attended by a fat knight, a boy, three unconscious brigands and a dead horse.

Rickard returned home in a daze as an 'anointed' knight of the Seven, a fat purse of gold on his hip, courtesy of Ser Loras. He returned to a somewhat shocked Maester Garth, a pleasantly bemused Ser Willas *(he never was one for ceremony)* and a positively infuriated **Ser** Gordan Oldgrove, who found the knighting of a heretic Northerner insulting. Unfortunately for Gordan, Rickard now held the favour of House Florent and the older boy had no wish to quarrel with them. Rickard made the most of his knighthood, attending more and more prestigious tourneys and acquiring more and more wealth for his mother. He also journeyed east, escorting caravans and performing menial tasks for villages, who found his assistance and sense of humour invaluable. Unlike his bully of a cousin, Gordan, Rickard became somewhat beloved by the smallfolk in the villages around the Reach. By this point, he was a mere 21 years of age.

## Quotes by Rickard

"Seven Hells!" - Rickard, exclaiming in disbelief.

"Seven Hells!" - Rickard, exclaiming in shock.

"Seven Hells!" - Rickard exclaiming in amusement.

"Seven Hells." - Rickard mumbling in embarrassment.

"Go fuck yourself, Gordan. Otherwise, I'll get my sword to do it for you." - Rickard in retort to his cousin, Gordan Oldgrove.

"Well, it's just... we've known each other for... and I just... will you marry me?" - Rickard to Lady Alys Ryswell.

"You're a fine king. I'll die for you, but that's not what measures it. You'd die for the crown you claim. Many kings would fight for it, but you're a true warrior, your grace." - Rickard to King Daeron upon the fall of the Kingdom of Dorne.

"I'm not d-drunk. You're drunk." - Rickard in response to Ser Ian Dayne, following the slaughter in the Small Council Chambers at the hands of Ser Jason Gullegan, the Batviper.

"Every man who dies *against* us dies willingly for his home. Every man who dies *for* us dies for our home. That's how I reconcile it." - Rickard, reconciling the horrors of war.

"I wish to grow old and die, Lord Ryswell, not the other way around." - Rickard to Lord Roger Ryswell on his potential mortality.

“You’re right where you need to be; the Masters’ fleet lies at the bottom of the ocean, Meereen still stands and representatives of the King of Westeros kneel at your feet begging for your aid. These people need you. You're their queen.” - Rickard to Queen Daenerys.

## Quotes about Rickard

"Aye, last I heard he was headed North again, though I recently saw him at Starfall for the tournament. I can only wonder if he has other plans in the north that he did not wish to speak about." - Lord Ian Dayne, on his close friend Ser Rickard's plans.

"You're a twat, Greywinde. You and my bastard sister." - Gordan Oldgrove, addressing his cousin after the two had fallen out.

“I’ve come to know your friend, Ser Rickard. Well, to some degree, at least. But you… you’re odd. You misunderstand me, ser. You’re a man of no nation. A Reachman, a Northman. Most men are proud of their heritage, following their king to the end. But you fight for the bloodline that yours fought to the death.” - Queen Daenerys reflecting on the Northman.

"Rickard is one of the most loyal allies the Redwater's ever received. He deserve unimaginable rewards." - Lord Robin Redwater, reflecting on the Ambush of House Whent.

"Convergence is a good sword and Rickard is a good man to wield such a fine blade..." - Ser Darron Flameheart, on his uncle and close friend Ser Rickard.

"I remember you. You... you swore to me outside the Banefort. Ser... Ser Rickard. My apologies for not realising sooner, but you've changed over the years, ser." - King Daeron, reflecting on Rickard's entry to the King's service three years prior.

"You're an idiot." - Old Bear to Rickard.