Lyonel Lannister

## Loren Lannister

Loren Lannister is the Head of the House Lannister House Guard. He is a large man many describe as a "brute" and is supposedly a fearsome warrior. He has blonde hair, broad shoulders, and green eyes beneath a jagged brow.

## History

Lyonel Lannister is a distant cousin of Gerold, although eight or so years younger than him. He is a giant of a man, well above six feet, and with broad shoulders and a large frame. His face is brutish but calculating, cold blue eyes glinting beneath a large brow.

As a child, Lyonel was huge. He was much bigger for his size than anyone in the Rock. Thus, the arms-masters of the Rock immediately began to groom him to be a warrior. Lyonel’s father, a descendent of Daven Lannister, had always wanted a warrior son. His other sons had all been sickly, and only one had survived to adulthood, even then he became a septon and had left the Rock many years ago.

Lyonel, however, did not want to be a warrior. Swords and the like frightened him, and he did not find pleasure in the thought of killing others for some brutal reason like “loyalty.” Did a life matter less because what liege lord they happened to owe their allegiance to? Lyonel did not understand it, perhaps he never would. Yet, his father persisted, and took him to train for hours upon hours every day.

In the precious little personal time that Lyonel had, he found that he enjoyed reading. He would read stacks upon stacks of books, whether they be stories or histories, and it distracted from the welts he got. When his father found out, however, he was furious.

“You’re to be no cock-sucker,” he had yelled in a blind fury, “my son will be a great warrior, no septon, maester, or some other cunt to read books and pretend they know more than the rest of us.” With that he had backslapped Lyonel across the face and kicked him in the ribs until he could no longer breathe without causing pure agony to himself. He tried to read again several times, but yet his father always knew and Lyonel always ended up bloody and bruised. He suspected that perhaps his servants spied on him, but he did not approach them.

His training went on for a good while, and as Lyonel grew older he changed. He cared less about things; he still didn’t care for swordplay although he was good at it. He simply went through the motions,  many saying they thought he was the happiest he had ever been.

Lyonel’s entire life changed on the evening of his eighteenth birthday. He had grown to a formidable size and towered over his father, who was remarkably short for a lord. They were atop the Rock itself, on a balcony with a low railing. It was winter at that time, and a light frost had settled over the Rock.

“I am proud of you, son,” he had said. Those would be his last words, as his boot hit a patch of ice and he stumbled backwards. Lyonel had reached out to save him but it was too late, as he tumbled over the edge.

This was where the guards found him, on his knees, looking down below with an indecipherable expression. Some reported he was sobbing, whilst others said he was giddy with glee. He was dragged off to the dungeons, suspected of murdering his own father.

He got the nickname The Bloody Lion at this time. In his grief - or psychosis as some claimed -  he had dug furrows into his face and hands, leaving bloody scars that are still there to this day. It is said the guards thought he was a vengeful demon covered in blood come to kill them for their sins when they first saw him.

Tywald - who ruled at that time upon Loren’s absence - refused to sentence him to death.

“I will not have a Lannister die at the gallows like some common peasant,” Tywald had uttered, “yet he will still be punished. He will be forced to pray to the seven for day and night for a week, only one hour of sleep allowed a day, and a meal of bread and water once every other day. If he does this and the septons deem him humble, he shall be forgiven.”

After this ordeal, Tywald immediately put him in the household guard. This sparked rumors that he had been saved for his fighting ability, rather than for any moral reason. Yet, no one in the Rock, nor the Westerlands, cared. *A Lannister was a Lannister, and not even the gods were worthy to judge them.*