2nd Generation: Rory Bloodstrong

You are Rory Bloodstrong, firstborn son of Lord Eland and Lady Bethany Bloodstrong, heir to Redstone Keep and the legacy of House Bloodstrong.

From the moment of your birth, controversy followed you like a shadow. Your parents’ union, a scandalous marriage between a noble heir and a scullery maid, tainted your existence in the eyes of many. House Bloodstrong, an ancient and revered line, was suddenly intertwined with the lowborn origins of your mother. The court of Anglia buzzed with scandal for years, and though your father stood firm in his decision, the whispers never truly ceased.

Your mother’s past was no secret, not to the court, not to the servants, not even to you. Bethany Bloodstrong, once Bethany the scullery maid, was a woman whose reputation for promiscuity was infamous even in the furthest reaches of the keep.

They whispered that, before her marriage, she’d willingly and enthusiastically slept with half the men in the castle - stable boys, merchants, guards, minstrels, and even Lord Alder, your grandfather - her trysts were numerous and scandalous. There were even rumors of her entertaining three stable boys at once in the castle chapel, an act that had left the chaplain nearly apoplectic. The stories were lurid, the kind that made servants giggle behind their hands and friars sneer with disdain. Yet, despite her past, or perhaps because of it, your father chose her.

It wasn’t mere lust that drove him to defy tradition and marry her. Your father had plenty of opportunities to indulge his desires elsewhere. No, it was something deeper, something even the most cynical courtiers struggled to understand.

Your father sought freedom more than anything else, freedom from the expectations of his station, from the political matches that his title demanded. It was an act of defiance, marrying a lowborn scullery maid with a sordid past, instead of the highborn woman chosen for him by others.

Or perhaps he saw in your mother a kindred spirit, someone who, like him, refused to be shackled by the expectations of others, someone whose spirit was free, unshackled by propriety, and bold enough to defy the constraints of society and religion. Or perhaps he simply loved her in a way that transcended station and reputation.

Or maybe, just maybe, you are wrong, and he did marry her out of lust, captivated by her fiery hair and luscious beauty.

Whatever his reasons, your father stood firm. And you, his firstborn, are the proof of his defiance. The blood of House Bloodstrong coursed through your veins, even if some questioned its purity. Your father raised you as such, instilling in you a sense of duty and pride. He taught you to hold your head high, to let the sneers and murmurs roll off your back. ‘They will judge you for what they see,’ he often said, his voice steady, ‘but you will make them kneel for what you do.’

Your mother, despite her past, doted on you and your nine younger siblings. Ten children, all healthy and robust. It wasn't exactly necessary to have so many children, but your father and mother couldn't keep their hands off each other, and ten healthy children were born from their passion.

You told yourself it's a good thing you and your siblings were born out of love, instead of political needs for an heir or other ambitions. But other nobles often looked down on you, whispering that you and your siblings were born of lust, not legacy.

Even within your family, judgment lingers. Your paternal grandmother, Lady Jenna Bloodstrong, a woman who valued bloodlines and propriety above all else, has never forgiven your father for his choice. She carried herself with an air of disdain that stung even as a child, her cold words sharp as a dagger, dismissing your mother as a harlot unworthy of the Bloodstrong name, a stain that no amount of time or effort could wash away.

Your grandfather, Lord Alder, is ****, though his kindness carries an edge of pity rather than respect. There were persistent whispers that when your mother was a scullery maid in the keep before she became your father's wife, she had warmed your grandfather's bed. It was obvious that he felt awkward around her, having one of his former bed warmers as his son's wife and the mother of his grandchildren.

Despite it all, you’ve thrived. Your father ensured you were educated by the best tutors and trained by the finest swordmasters. You inherited his eyes and your mother’s fiery hair, a combination that made you stand out in every room. By the time you reached adulthood, it was clear you had the potential to silence the whispers and prove your worth, no matter your mother's lowborn blood or promiscuous past. You were intelligent, capable, and ambitious - a true heir to Redstone Keep, even if not everyone wanted to admit it.

And now, on the day of your eighteenth birthday, the weight of your future settles squarely on your shoulders. The great hall is filled with revelers, lords and ladies, guards and servants, all gathered to celebrate your coming of age. Your father sits at the head of the long table, his expression proud, while your mother giggles at his side, her laughter light and carefree.

Yet amidst the celebration, the same question lingers, unspoken but ever-present: who will you marry?

A political match could silence the whispers and solidify your position. Marrying the daughter of a powerful house could elevate House Bloodstrong to new heights, erasing the last traces of your mother’s tarnished reputation. It would be a practical choice, one that your grandmother would insist upon, no doubt with her usual sharp tongue. But would any noble house offer their daughter willingly? Your mother's lowborn blood and past as a scullery maid still haunts you. Would they not see you as tainted, an undesirable match unless their own daughter bore some flaw?

Another path tempts you. Your father’s defiance of tradition and desire for freedom burn brightly in your veins. You could choose someone who mirrors your parents' union - marrying not for power, but who you want. A kindhearted noblewoman of modest means, a widow, or a scarred knightess - someone who values you for your character rather than your title - all are possibilities that might honor the legacy of your parents’ defiant union.

Or, perhaps, your heart strays to something more unconventional. An exotic bride from far-off lands, a mystic or a witch. It could set you apart and declare your independence from the expectations of your house. The thought of forging your own path, unbound by tradition, stirs something deep within you.

The choice is yours, Rory Bloodstrong. The future of Redstone Keep and the legacy of House Bloodstrong rest in your hands.

What kind of lord will you be? What kind of future will you build? Who will you choose?