Song of Ice and Fire
Sheriff of House Vara
The cruel, somewhat mad, iron fist of the law for House Vara. Wreed is weathered from his days on the seas, and has a cold stare that tends to unnerve even those who know him well. Wreed is crass and uneducated, but don’t mistake that for a lack of intelligence. He is as loyal to Lord Vara as a zealot is to the High Septon, and will personally mete out harsh punishment to anyone perceived as a law-breaker.
Sinister – During the first round of combat or intrigue, your opponents take –1D
on all Fighting and Persuasion tests made to attack or influence you.
Danger Sense – You may re-roll all 1s on Agility tests made to determine the order of
initiative. In addition, whenever you or a unit to which you are attached
is surprised in combat, your opponent does not gain the customary +1D
on the Fighting or Marksmanship tests
Connections – Hornhaven. +1D to all Knowledge tests here
Cruel Insanity – You take –2D on all Awareness tests involving Empathy. In addition,
when engaging in intrigues, your opponent’s disposition is always one
step worse if they recognize who you are.
3 Agility 10
2 Animal Handling
3 Athletics 10
4 Awareness 40 (Notice 1B)
3 Cunning 10
5 Endurance 70
4 Fighting 40 (Bludgeon 2B, Brawling 1B)
2 Knowledge (Streetwise 1B)
3 Persuasion 10 (Intimidate 2B)
3 Stealth 10
2 Survival (Tracking 1B)
3 Will 10
Intrigue Defense: 10
Combat Defense: 10
Armor Rating: Armor’s AR Pg 155
Gersen Wreed was born the youngest of five in the farmlands of the Reach. He would have grown up a farmhand, but a relentless rainy season in his youth sent the Reach to the brink of civil unrest. Many farms were ruined, and families fled. Banditry and lawlessness spread, and the Tyrell’s were slow to react. Wreed’s father chose to stay and tend to the land. This decision cost him his life, and the lives of his wife, and three of Wreed’s siblings when bandits visited the farm. Only Wreed and his eldest sister survived.
Through distant family, Wreed and his sister were brought to a small seaside town. Wreed became a sailor. The last he heard of his sister, she was a seamstress.
Wreed spent years on the sea, moving from trawlers to merchant and passenger vessels. He travelled far and wide, and encountered many kinds of people. Well, different kinds of sailors and prostitutes, anyway. He grew to be like his father: strong, weathered, and with great endurance. He learned to fight, and never to show mercy lest others take advantage of you.
Though never formally educated, Wreed became a good judge of character. Sailors were unsavory company. Wreed had a seething hatred for his crewmates who spent their leave preying on the weak and helpless to earn a few extra coins. But he kept quiet, and didn’t stick his neck out to stop them, or any other criminals who didn’t directly threaten him. That all changed when he went to Dorne.
Wreed was working the rivers in the large, lawless holdings of House Vara. It had been a rainy season – rain like he hadn’t seen since his youth in the Reach. He was loading a skiff with cut black marble, when a commotion broke out. River bandits, a common sight, were ambushing a noble caravan escorting a young child, a less common sight.
The bandits had numbers and speed, and outmaneuvered the guards of the House who were not accustomed to the rain-slicked ground. One of the bandits broke the guard’s line and grabbed the child, making a break for the crowded river.
Wreed saw that the guards were unable to chase the kidnapper, and no other law enforcement was to be seen. The kidnapper was running straight towards him. Wreed was brought back to that day on his father’s farm.
He saw the young noble child, and the look of fear on the child’s face reminded him of all of his siblings before their throats were cut.
He stuck his foot out right into the path of the kidnapper. The kidnapper and the young noble were sent sprawling into the mud.
Rain pouring down around them, the bandit spun about to face Wreed, brandishing a cruel looking knife. The young noble pulled himself from the mud. Onlookers were about to help the child, when two more bandits came running up. Wreed found himself alone, facing down three men.
The kidnapper went to grab the young noble, but Wreed’s foot lashed out at the man’s knees and the kidnapper stumbled. Still holding the marble slab, Wreed lost his balance and slipped to his knees in the mud. This was all that saved him from a crushing blow to his skull.
Another bandit slashed at Wreed with a knife. Wreed lifted the marble slab and the cheap knife snapped across it.
The club crashed into his back and Wreed toppled over dropping the marble. He rolled out of the way as the club came down again. Flinging mud into the attacker’s face, Wreed had just enough time to lunge at the bandit with the club and topple him down into the mud, knocking the club from his hands. Grasping about, Wreed’s fingers wrapped around the shattered knife blade. It cut deep into his fingers and he bit his tongue, drawing blood, to stop himself from crying out. He drove the broken blade into the bandit’s eyes.
Hand bleeding and back burning with pain, Wreed staggered to his feet. He picked up the club and locked eyes with the bandit who had tried to stab Wreed. The bandit, now unarmed and alone, turned and ran.
Wreed saw the kidnapper chasing the young noble. He sprinted after them both. The pain in his back blurred his vision, and the rain was washing mud into his eyes. He could barely make out the people around him, and he was unsure where to go.
Then he heard the child cry out, and he heard the kidnapper make a sound of triumph.
He moved towards the sound, hearing the child struggle and resist. Good, he thought. Keep fighting. He tried to blink away the rain and focus, but he could still not see much more than dim outlines. Wreed followed the sounds of the child yelling and fighting, and of the kidnapper swearing and hitting. When he thought he was close enough, he raised the club up high and brought it down hard.
His days of loading black marble paid off. The bandit shrieked in agony, and Wreed heard the sound of bone snapping, and the wet thud of the kidnapper falling into the mud. The child screamed.
The kidnapper howled in pain, a strangled cry that spoke of his difficulty breathing. Wreed dropped the club and climbed on top of him, pinning the kidnapper’s arms to his side. “A child?” Wreed screamed at the man, who now looked up into the mud and blood covered face of a madman. “A child?” Wreed screamed again, his fist slamming into the man’s face. Blow after blow rained down on the kidnapper’s face, his lips splitting and his eyes swelling shut.
Wreed’s knuckles were split open and his tunic was covered in blood by the time the man stopped moving. A small crowd had gathered, and the House Vara guard ran up. They gathered up the young noble and carried him back to safety. One of the House Guard pulled Wreed to his feet. “You’ll hang for this,” the guard said.
Gersen Wreed spent three nights behind iron bars. He was beaten and asked who had hired him to kidnap the Lord’s son. Wreed insisted the entire time that he had saved the boy’s life.
On the fourth day, the jailers were surprised to see Lord Vara himself walk in with one of his sons. They walked up to Wreed’s cell, and Lord Vara simply asked his son, “is this the man you saw?” The boy nodded.
Shortly thereafter, Gersen Wreed was freed from his cell. He was then offered a position as a lawman patrolling the riverside. The young boy he had saved was none other than the heir to House Vara, and the child had insisted to his father that Wreed had saved his life. Lord Vara believed that someone like Wreed would be an asset combating the lawlessness of the land, and had Wreed put to work.
Wreed quickly found that this was his calling. He enjoyed finding and stopping criminals, and even more so he enjoyed meting out their punishments, every one of them a small act of retribution for his dead family. Given how desperate the situation was for House Vara, Wreed was given wide latitude in applying his brand of justice, though his methods occasionally would raise eyebrows. He quickly rose through the ranks, and became a figure of fear and hatred among the criminal class. The name Gersen Wreed became a synonym for swift, merciless justice — and to some in House Vara, it has also become shorthand for cruelty and madness.
Now newly appointed as the Sheriff of House Vara, Wreed has even greater latitude and power to put criminals under his boot heel, and he intends to cleanse the lands of House Vara with the blood of the lawbreakers. For many he is a hero, the one man who can do the job; but there are also those with the ear of Lord Vara who wonder when Gersen Wreed will need to be put down like the criminals he loathes.