Torwyn Drumm

Torwyn Drumm is the current Lord of Old Wyk.

Biography
Belched forth from the fiery womb of Asha, Torwyn would be the first born son of Lord Torwold Drumm. His childhood would be fair but tended to lean more on the stricter side of things. Lord Torwold was well known as a rigid man and one not to trifle with. He would raise his three sons with the same stiffness and eventually later on in the light of R’hllor as would become his faith.

Come the age of six Torwold declared it was time his son learned the skills he needed to grow into a proper man. On the dawn of his name day Torwyn began his official training with Swords. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had ever held a blade or stick. Many a times before hand he had played at childish games with his brothers in the yard. This was different though than anything before. This new practice was no childish game between brothers. His instructor Theon was a known bladesman and old friend of his fathers. The man was hard as iron, rude, and oft cruel. Being trained in such a manner worked that same streak deep into Torwyn. In time his younger brothers Torwyn II and Torwyn III held no ground in the yard against him nor did his friends.

In the coming years Theon would teach Torwyn to not only fight in the yard but also at sea. The thrill of fighting on a rocking deck was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. With each trade of blows Torwyn felt himself coming more and more alive. His strikes carried more weight, each raining down faster than the one before. He could roll and swing, step wide around every blow that came his way. Excitement and thrill took hold and he swung a slash deeper than he’d intended. Theon would die a slow death from this accidental wound taking two weeks to pass. His immediate response to the young Torwyn was rather cruel though. With his guts dangling from his wound Theon would pick up Torwyn and toss him like a sack of oats into the sea. Rather than die Torwyn would stubbornly spend a day swimming back to land and make his way home. Everyone on the Isles learned of the Swimming talents of the young Torwynd Drumm.

As the young heir grew more and more the boy became rather curious and excited around flames. He’d oft goad his younger brothers into burning things. A thrill which slowly waned with each passing fire. He itched to try it himself just to feel what it was like to control something so wild. Early one morning when all the fisher boats had left Torwyn snuck out and began his mischief. What started as a small fire of burning books grew out of hand when the winds picked up. The season had been an oddly dry one so when the winds came down the wildfire quickly began. By its end a handful of his Lord fathers Holdings had been reduced to ash and an entire score of lives lost.

In the wake of the wildfire Torwyn escaped punishment. In the chaos of the moment it was easy to disappear unseen. The fire spooked him though he’d wandered to close to an edge he wasn’t yet ready for. Torwyn put away his flames and buried the thrill of them as best he could. He picked up his swords practice once more in full force to occupy his free time. He fought with a heart of fire, harder and stronger than ever before. Many who saw him fight or crossed blades with him concluded he was born gifted to be a Duelist.

A man grown or near enough Torwyn joined his father at the Nightfire. He latched onto the faith with unwavering zeal. He prayed for direction or a path to take his life to make his own name. He sat till dawn when all others had left. The fire flickered low and he got the answer he sought. Torwyn sailed out with his brothers at his back and a strong group of ironmen of the new faith. To every boat which crossed paths with them they made a pyre of it. For every fishing village they spotted they left it as only ashes and bones. (Arson (e))

Lord Torwold grew displeased hearing the news of the chaos his sons had spread. He reined his three sons in Torwyn, Torwyn II, Torwyn III, and separated them scattering them to the winds. Like an ash riding the winds Torwyn traveled far. A trader took him to the Greenlands and from there it was port to port, and drink after drink. Cut off from his family he resorted to what means he could. His talent of gambling, became his rock keeping him afloat. From port to port all the way to eventually the Arbor he tossed bones making gold foot over fist.

His journeys from town to town and region to region were eye opening. He met people he thought he’d never speak to in other circumstances. He heard songs and voices of all odd variety. It was through this traveling experience he developed a knack for accents. A talent that had kept a blade or two at times off his throat when the wrong someone heard him speak. A keen ear can pick up on the salty tones an Ironborn utters naturally and Torwyn had learned to hide that.

Luck would soon bring the devilish Drumm to the great city of Kings Landing. Torwyn won enough gold for passage one night in a game of chance. He took up residence at an inn near the docks for a week before meeting the young dragon, Aerea Targaryen. A friendship grew as the two met and spoke on a handful of occasions. Upon revealing his true identity though his name was heard by the wrong ears. With haste Torwyn fled the city putting an end to whatever that relationship may have led to. An ending which he would regret and never get past entirely.

But all talents and skills, tricks, and wits have an end. A stretching point that will eventually break. A web of lies and deceit after half a decade had caught up with him one eve in the Arbor. A Fair Isles man he’d cheated once in a high stakes hand recognized his face. Rather than go easily to some Lords judgement Torwyn narrowly escaped and headed northbound for home.

Expecting to return home to the whip-snap of his fathers voice and threats Torwyn was shocked when he’d arrived. His father had taken deathly ill, plagued with a sickly fever. A bad cough half a decade old which never went away but festered and worsened. With his brothers once more at his side Torwyn and they would aid Lord Torwold until his final breath a year later.

A hard year of learning the realities of being a Lord. A year of knowing his duties and what was expected of him. An insightful look into his fathers secret life and meetings with Dagon Greyjoy. When Torwold did finally pass and Torwyn donned the mantle of Lord he had other plans. Greyjoy and his father were too lax. There way of things would never work.

It is said by the common fisherfolk that before the flesh of Lord Torwold was even cold his son had taken the fleet.

Timeline
-285: Torwyn is born.

-291: Learns the skill of Swords

-293: Learns the talent of swimming

-296: Becomes an amateur arsonist

-297: Known for his Dueling skills Island wide

-301: Embraces the flames of R’hllor and masters the joyful art of arson

-302: Dangerously uses his talent of gambling in the Greenlands

-304: Falls for Aerea Targaryen but is forced to flea from the city.

-305: Masters the sly talent of speaking in accents and narrowly escapes capture

-308: Returns home to his sickly father

-309: Becomes Lord after his fathers passing

Family Tree
https://www.familyecho.com/?p=START&c=zgmq28jbvo&f=330818678740452711