HIGHBORN, koryn fowler

koryn fowler

We'll be riding horses all the way

These are the words of House Fowler, Lords in Skyreach, Wardens of the Prince's Pass. They're also just about the most ironical statement Koryn can think of.

The blood of the Andals and the First Men flows thick in the veins of the Fowlers, and in comparison to their more Rhoynish countrymen, they tend to favor the same ideals and traditions as the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Lord Symon Fowler, the Warden incumbent, was a strict and principled man who had the lives of his two sons fully mapped out: the eldest, Ronan, would squire and eventually be knighted before succeeding him as Lord of Skyreach, while the youngest, Koryn, would be sent to the Citadel, where the old Maesters would make him into a knight of the mind and quill. In Ronan, who was strong, bold, and dutiful, Symon saw all his hopes fulfilled. Koryn, on the other hand, whose mind only ever seemed to have room for hawking and stubborn, selfish daydreams, was nothing but a source of endless vexation.

Koryn's young life was plagued by the most maddening of riddles - why should his father rebuke him so fiercely for wanting to be more like his brother? He liked books and histories well enough, the ones full of chivalry and courage and high adventure, but to waste away his youth in the Citadel, adding links to an ever growing chain around his neck? What sort of life was that? Koryn longed to become squired to a knight like his older brother, to prove his mettle in service and take up his vows, to see the world make his very own mark in the songs. Ser Koryn the Swift. The Sparrowhawk Knight. Such fancies filled his dreams, day and night. As the years rolled on, these fancies grew ever more crowded with the rumours of new knights arising in the realm, until in his dreams Koryn rode alongside Ser Duncan the Tall, Prince Eryn Martell, and Ser Arkas Dayne of Starfall.

But the years passed, and as the Citadel loomed ever closer on Koryn's horizon, Lord Symon showed no sign of relenting. Koryn began to feel he understood the plight of his house's sigil - like a hooded falcon, he was bound, blind and flightless, never to taste the wide world that waited beyond Skyreach, beyond Dorne, beyond the Narrow Sea. 

Until Lord Symon tangled his foot in his best horse's stirrup, that is, and succeeded in completely shattering his neck. After the burial, Koryn spent many a night in the sept, endlessly questioning the Seven. Did the fact that he felt not only horror and grief at his father's death, but also more than a little relief, make him a bad son? Was it wrong of him to be glad of his new freedom? Ronan proved to be a more lenient Lord to his younger brother. With Symon gone, there was nothing stopping Koryn from pursuing his heart's desire, but for one complication. He was too old.

For what knight would care to take a lad of fifteen summers, almost a man grown, as his squire?


you do not start with anything! this section will be edited upon being awarded magic or powers.

[b]MAGI, alibaba saluja[/b] as [i]koryn fowler[/i]