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Orys Baratheon

"Ours is The Fury"

0 · 650 views · located in The North

a character in “The Battle of Fire and Ice.”, as played by Bromander Shepard

Description

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Half lion, half stag







Name: Orys Hill/ Orys Lannister/ Orys Baratheon

Age: 20

Appearance: Orys is a large young man. Built powerfully with thick, rippling muscle he is a titan both on and off the battlefield. He towers over most men yet is not so large as to be considered a giant. The hulking bastard of Casterly Rock is known for his size, strength and dashing good looks. Dirty blonde hair signifying his Lannister blood as well as his Baratheon blood, blonde hair with black beneath it. His eyes are as blue as the sea and are often remarked as one of his finer qualities.

Build: Standing at 6'3" and weighing in at 209 lbs

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Personality: Orys is, like any young man growing up in a splintered home, is a man divided. While that which he derives from his Baratheon side and those that primarily raised him have nurtured a boisterous, fun loving side of Orys. He is caring, warm and never far from a smile or a casual joke. He enjoys a stiff drink and a hard fight but doesn't revel in violence or bloodshed as much as the thrill of combat and pushing his limits. While he considers himself the son of Tywin Lannister the boy tends to behave more like a Baratheon than any Lannister could ever hope to. Yet a part of him is only ever working on half steam because he reserves a lot of his happiness, a lot of his true energies in the belief that one day his father will come for him. He honestly believes with all his heart that not only does Tywin Lannister love him as the son he is but want him to come and be part of the family. As such days when he should be enjoying himself in Storms End you may find him writing letters his father will never read, pouring over books of the Lannisters lineage or merely staring off to the sea expecting to sea crimson sails that never come. Until Orys accepts which side of himself he truly wants to be he will always be caught in the middle of the Stag and the Lion.

Where they live: Storms End, seat of power of House Baratheon in the Storm Lands

What/ who they are: Bastard son of Tywin Lannister, son of Barda Baratheon and nephew to Lord Robert Baratheon Lord of Storms End.

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History: Tywin Lannister is not a man who overindulges in anything. Though after the death of his wife during the birthing of his third child Tywin Lannister was distraught. Taking to the bottle one drunken night led to a chance meeting with the older sister of the Hero of Ashford Field, Robert Baratheon. Her name was Barda and she was kind to him. Her kindness led to a single night of passion that left Barda with child and Tywin with regrets. When the child was born he took him to live with him at Casterly Rock, hoping to make some use of the bastard boy. Yet even as a boy the child was big, loud, destructive and immensely strong even for his age. Tywin cared so little for his bastard he only ever called him Hill as per fitting his bastard status in the westerlands never caring to name him. When he was eleven years old Lord Tywin grew tired of the slighted looks whenever his bastard son was about so he sent him away to live with his mother and his mothers family at Storms End. It was only there did the boy truly flourish.

He was given a proper name, Orys, after the progenitor of the Baratheon line and took to training with his uncle Robert. Robert took to the boy, treating him more like a son than a nephew and Orys grew into a man. Mighty and brave Orys was the perfect warrior, strong and quick with a mind for strategy and tactics. Yet despite his growth he never forgot where he came from or his father whose love he never had.

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Skills:
Master at Arms- Orys is skilled with nearly every known weapon from short swords, to spears, archery and beyond but favors heavy weapons like hammers.

Hammer Throwing- Throwing hammers...

Strength- Few men can out power Orys Hill. Orys once lifted a horse on a dare to prove his might.

Leadership- Orys is actually a gifted battlefield commander and has a good mind for rule once he sets himself to the task

Battle Cry- With a roar tearing from his lungs Orys has been known to break enemy formations by fear alone when they see this mighty titan charging them with war hammer in hand

Toughness- Either due to his size, his bulk or both Orys has been known to shrug off blows that would fell a lesser man.

Be He Worthy...

Other:


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So begins...

Orys Baratheon's Story

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The sun shone brightly on Ship Breakers Bay. The wind blew and the sea crashed against the rocks. So many sailors too bold or too foolish tested it's surly waters and sunk to its watery depths adding another vessel to the inlet that so deserved its name. Over looking the treacherous water way was the ancient keep of Storm's End, ancestral seat of House Baratheon and seat of half Orys Hill's family. The days training had left his muscles sore and aching but in a good way. He'd spent hours in the courtyard with his uncle Robert who marshaled the days training. He'd practiced with long and short sword, single sword, sword and shield and dual swords before moving to spear work. He'd practiced the long spear and shield technique for over an hour before he was permitted to pick up his chosen weapon, the mighty war hammer. With hammer in hand Orys Hill knew there was not a man alive who can match him.

Often called the Shadow of Robert for it was said Orys resembled his uncle in his youth. Lord Robert Baratheon was at one time the greatest hero Westeros had ever seen. In the War of The False Knight the then young Robert Baratheon, had broken three armies in a single day. To this day people still sung songs about his victories on Ashford field. Now stories were being whispered about the young bastard growing up in his care. Half stag, half lion but all warrior. Orys had only spent eight years of his life at Casterly Rock before he was sent away by his father to live with his mothers family at Storm's End. Not wanting, or caring to name let alone raise his bastard son the task had fallen to his mother Barda Baratheon and her brothers Robert, Stannis and Renly. Renly being of similar age to the young Orys. Stannis was cold, harsh and never formed much of a bond with the bastard from the Westerlands. Renly, while kind enough, never had much in common with the strapping young man who at ten was already towering over boys twice his age. It was Robert, the hero who grew the most attached to the young man.

Serving as a surrogate father Robert sought to his training, ensured he could fight with every weapon under the sun, pushed the boy to be stronger every day. Orys excelled at all matters of martial arts. From brawling, to wrestling, sword fighting, riding, hunting and jousting. Strength and size alone he was more powerful than most warriors in the kingdoms. He was the perfect warrior as far as Robert was concerned. Yet to Orys all he wanted was the admiration of his father or at least his acceptance. Twelve years he'd spent in Storms End and not once had a letter from Castlery Rock come inquiring as to his welfare. Not once had a rider arrived with news from his father. His half brother Tyrion had come a few times to visit, as had Jaimie before he was king. Yet now all Orys had was his uncles, his mother and the daily repetition of martial training.

The only real excitement found was in hunting the outlaws who prowled the woods, chasing off tribes of pillaging Wildlings, drinking or in the affections of women. Orys stood, his broad bare chest dripping with water as his golden hair clung to his skin, the only thing his father had ever given him. His starling blue eyes looking out across Ship Breakers Bay wondering if he would ever again see his father, or if the Lord of Casterly Rock even cared.

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Never before in all the seven kingdoms or all the free cities of beyond was there a man living more happy to be home. Robert Baratheon rode into Storms End with a strong drink in mind and a hot bath. He wanted to wash the stink of Kings Landing off him. Storms End, the ancestral seat of power for House Baratheon smelled of sea air and constantly serenaded its occupants with the crashing of waves and the song of the gulls. Robert was just happy to not have to worry about any lions here. He rode through the main gate and into the central courtyard where, as so often was the case, some form of training scenario was under way. A dozen knights in full armor with swords and shields advanced on a lone opponent. Robert smiled as he looked upon his nephew.

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Hammer in hand he looked primed to take on the world. He might just as well if Robert would have let him. The men charged and Orys charged right at them. The first line fell from a single mighty blow from the hammer. The knights shields caved in before Orys dropped them. Stepping over him he waded into the crowd. Two more down in the blink of an eye as he batted them away like flies on a horses ass with his hammer. The knights rushed in, swords keened to cut him to ribbons. Orys dodged the stabbing lunges and took out the enemies legs. In their helmets their field of vision was limited making low strikes easy. Moving forward he blocked and counted another sword strike, catching the wrist of the attacking knight before breaking the blade with his hammer before flashing a bold smile and dropping the man in a heap.

Robert couldn't help but laugh as the dozen seasoned knights groaned in pain and slinked off licking their wounds. Orys merely chuckled proudly before he dunked his head in a water trough to cool down in the mid day sun. He pulled his head out, dripping with water and as he blinked away the wetness he spotted him.

"Uncle Robert!"

Orys said happily before trotting over to him. Robert dismounted and hugged him before taking a step back to look at the young man.

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"You got fat."

He said harshly. Orys arched an eyebrow and looked down at his uncles massive rotund stomach before they both shared a laugh.

"Hows your training been going lad?

Robert asked as he and Orys made their way to the keep.

"Good, Uncle Stannis is a hard old goat but he knows his drills."

"Aye and I wish you'd take them more seriously."

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Both men turned to the middle Baratheon brother who rode up on horseback, looking as stern as ever.

"Gods Stannis you're a sour man. I see your time running Storms End has done little to improve your mood."

"There's nothing wrong with my mood."

Stannis replied staunchly. Robert chuckled with a shake of his head. Turning back to his nephew he found the large young man looking rather nervous.

"Uncle? How was my father? Did he ask after me?"

The honest hopefulness in his eyes was enough to break Roberts heart. Damn Tywin Lannister, damn him to the darkest pit in the darkest of all seven hells. Robert thought not having the heart to tell the boy the truth.

"He's well Orys, strong for his age. He asked about you at length, I told him you're doing well. He said he wished he could see you but... Well he's the Hand and all. Appearances and all that, you understand."

"Right of course."

Orys replied with a nod. He seemed satisfied with the answer and even a bit warmed that his father inquired about him even if it was a lie. Robert felt like he needed that bath more now. He could only imagine how he'd feel after what he was about to tell the boy.

"He ummm actually had a task for you."

Robert continued with a sick feeling in his gut. Orys looked up in surprise and excitement.

"He's sending me to Anansai to meet with a delegate, he wants you to accompany me. I guess he's worried I'll get into too much trouble on my own. Wants someone he can trust keeping an eye on me."

Robert added, trying to sound jovial though his innards were in knots. Orys seemed touched, honored even that his father would call on him for anything least of all and emissary assignment.

"He did? I... Of course, when do we leave?"

"As soon as you're ready."

Robert replied with a strained smile. Orys was beaming as he hugged his uncle and rushed off to prepare for the journey. Robert could only rest his head in his hands as he tried to stifle the nauseating feeling inside of him.

"Tywin didn't ask about him did he?"

Stannis said flatly.

"Not a word."

Robert growled in response before he went off for that bath he so desperately wanted.

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Orys could barely contain his excitement. His had been packed in mere moments but after standing back and peering at what he'd thought to bring he'd realized he made a mistake. A pair of hand axes, a short sword, a long sword, a two handed battle axe, a round shield, two sets of armor and three spears. Shaking his head he unpacked all the weaponry. He was not going off to war but any time he'd ever left the keep it was to battle and his equipment was all he normally needed to bring. After the trunk was emptied he packed more modestly when he heard a breath at the door.

"Mother."

Orys said with a smile turning around, a half rolled up cloak in his hand. His mothers eyes, blue as the sea flicked to the open trunk and his items packed there within then back to him. She looked sad but Orys couldn't quite place why.

"You're leaving?"

She asked, her voice almost tentative. Orys softened, his smile knowing now as he approached.

"Oh mother..."

He said bringing her into a warm hug. He hadn't left Storms End for any significant length of time since he'd first arrived as a boy. The news of his journey must be bitter sweet news.

"I won't be long, promise. I'm just going with Uncle Robert and I'll be back... but... Can you believe it?"

Orys' excitment bubbled back to the surface as he stepped away, his grin brighter than the sun.

"Father asked me to go. He asked Uncle Robert personally to take me with him. He wants me to represent him in Anansai as his son. Isn't that wonderful?"

His mother's face softened to one of almost hurt as she lowered her gaze and stepped past him, looking into the crate and touching the fabric of one of Orys' shirts inside.

"Yes... It is wonderful..."

"What is it?"

Barda Baratheon turned and looked at her son, a measure of distress written there but for the life of him Orys couldn't quite place why.

"You're father Orys... He's not the man you think he is."

Orys couldn't stand to here this from her, for the thousandth time. With a roll of his eyes he tossed the cloak in the trunk and shut the lid before walking past her.

"Mother please, can we not do this again?"

"You need to listen to me Orys, Tywin Lannister is not a good man. He is cold, and callous and cruel and-

"And he is my father!"

Orys snapped, his temper flaring. Barda's voice caught in her throat at the ire of her sun. Tears welled in her eyes and Orys immediately felt like the worst person in all of the world.

"Mother I... I'm so sorry."

Orys said apologetically bringing her into his arms as she fought back tears.

"I just... I just don't want to lose you."

She said through emotion as she buried her head into my chest.

"You're not going to lose me, not ever."