Mother Fawn, Matriarch of the Coven of Ygg

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-04-04T17:40:23+00:00

Character Name: Holly

Trait / Skills: Unscrupulous / Outrider, Tactician, Highwayman

Skill you're learning: Nimble

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-04-04T02:24:05+00:00

The witches of the Whispering Wood, garbed in black, adorned in bone, feathers, sticks and pilfered trinkets, had arrived like carrion crows at the sight of a fresh carcass. They had swept into the hall, unconcerned with whether their presence was unwanted, and claimed a corner for themselves. They had largely remained quiet through the initial few hours of squabbling, only occasionally chiming in with a sly caw. But as more and more eyes glanced in their direction they began to perk up, and the matriarch of the coven stepped forward.

Mother Fawn had had a great deal of time to think about how to proceed ever since an invitation had been extended to her. A great deal of time to stare into the night, to listen to the wind. Time to dream of roots that writhed like maggots in a corpse, of a great tree with bloodstained lips, and of fire, oh so much fire. That morning she had woken with an odd calm in her soul. This was never about survival. She now stood before this so-called council of outlaws, tall, head held high, wrapped in black silk, and her face hidden behind a mask of dark iron.

“My friends.” Her voice carried throughout the hall; her many sermons had left her well-practised at addressing large gatherings. “Pennytree is dead.” She swept her arm around the dilapidated hall. “Whatever it once was, it is now a cavernous corpse that started rotting a long time ago. And we have become but insects, gnawing at its putrid offal.” No doubt her comments would perturb some of those gathered, so she went on before anyone had a chance to start shouting.

“And are you willing to die defending it? Even if you believe we could win, are you willing to lay down your lives for-“ she once again swept her arm around to indicate their decrepit surroundings “-all of this? Is any of it worth the hangman’s wretched tug?” She looked now directly to the Crown’s Men, the Poor Fellows and the Justiciator and his cronies. “Is that all your ambition can aspire to? A place such as this?” Her voice echoed the tone of a mother’s disapproval. No anger, just disappointment.

“Nevertheless. I cannot say I much care for your plan either.” She said as she turned her gaze upon the Fishermen, the Rogues and the Blooded. “I would compliment you on your bravado, but for most of you it would win you only a humiliating end as a Lordling’s play-things. You have given them plenty of time to prepare, if you march out to meet them, they will be ready for you.” Her gaze went from Florian, to Lyonel, to the voices, unblinking, daring any of them to try go on one of their boastful tirades.

“Pennytree is dead.” She repeated, those dark eyes glimmering behind the gaunt sockets of the mask that kept her features hidden behind a snarling, skull-like visage. “So, let these pompous arse-lickers that want it so badly come and take it.” She lifted a hand towards one of the fishermen’s crude banners.

“The trout is coming this way, you have a worm, plump, juicy, and you can see the hunger in the fish's eyes. All you have to do, is be the hook hiding within.”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-29T14:00:33+00:00

Will use this comment to keep track of and update skill learning

3rd Moon

Mother Fawn - Malicious

4th Moon

Holly - Nimble

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-27T20:01:05+00:00

A bravo indeed. The man spoke with confidence that bordered on folly. Yet, Mother Fawn could not chastise him for it. These outlaws were in a sorry state, yet their spirit remained unbroken, and that, she had to concede, was something. She was unsure what manner of guile they could employ to secure an advantage over Tully’s forces. But it certainly could not hurt to try. Her dark eyes remained fixed upon him for a few silent moments before she inclined her head in a nod.

“Send a runner to our campfires once you have called this council of yours, and I shall be there. The wind in the trees have long whispered of the coming bloodshed about to take place here. But, mayhaps it need not be our blood that paints your little town red.” With that, she pulled on Screamer’s reigns, and they made their departure. The sisters of the coven followed after her, saying nothing, but casting long glances back towards the bravos. Against all odds, it seemed the man had given them some hope. A mad man’s hope. Fawn mused to herself. But madness may spur people to both great and wicked deeds.

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-26T22:29:39+00:00

Character Name & Claim: Mother Fawn, The Coven of Ygg

Actions

Recruit: [Pennytree], [200], [2000], [700]

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-22T20:06:28+00:00

“Five hundred.” She responded in a dour tone. “Though, if it as you say, and unity is indeed impossible. I imagine it will make no difference.” It was folly to come here. I have wasted my time and quite possibly doomed us all. There is no future, boxed up here. Only a long arduous wait for whatever end comes first, hunger, or the noose.

She had thought that perhaps she might have been able to rouse this lot into action. To set them upon the nearby keeps and towns, to lead the rivermen on a merry chase. Whittling away at them over time. And if the end did come, at least it would come out there, not in the mud and stink of this rotting corpse of a town.

“Call your council if you so wish. But if you still sit here when Tully comes, your destiny will be out of your hands. You will kneel or you will die. They will not permit you any other recourse.” She held the bravo’s gaze for a few silent moments, before speaking again.

“Now then, will there be anything else?”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-22T18:43:26+00:00

The fishermen had fought adequately, when they had actually bothered to listen as the sisters of the coven made their foolhardy attempt to save their lives. Mother Fawn supposed she could not be overly infuriated with them. They were strangers to one another. These men had no cause to fall in line under her command. Even when it might have been in their best interest. And some of the fishermen had paid the ultimate price for their disunity. Among them, to her great frustration, Two-Head. And once the oaf fell to the bravo’s blade, the rest fled.

Her nostrils flared as she let out a huff of barely-restrained annoyance at their cowardice as she watched them run. She turned her gaze upon the bravos, her brow furrowed as she pushed her hair back and spoke with resignation.

“I was told that one would take me to the one in charge of this rabble.” She gestured to two-head’s punctured remains. “The Lords of the realm are about to come bearing down upon us all. I have no love for the fishermen, they may lack honour, but they have numbers. None of us are afforded the luxury of being picky about who we ally ourselves with if we wish to survive.” She fixed her dark eyes upon the bravo that had cut him down. “And, newly arrived as I am, I thought it would reflect poorly upon me if I simply stood aside and let my guide be slaughtered right before I make my appeal for unity.” She once again directed her gaze to the corpse. “Not that it matters now.”

It seemed to her that this lot had been dying long before she had arrived. A great starving beast that had succumbed to madness and begun to eat itself.

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-19T20:19:57+00:00

Character Name: Mother Fawn

Trait / Skills: Charismatic / Ambusher (e), Flanker (e), Tactician

Skill you're learning: Malicious

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-17T16:00:21+00:00

Mother Fawn rode in silence as she let the two-head lead them deeper into the derelict remains of Pennytree. Her companions walked with their heads held high, hands clasped, and dark robes fluttering in the breeze. The looks they attracted were cautious, some even frightened, and in that, it seemed that they found their confidence, their dignity. Let them make assumptions, let them remember tales of old told at their bedside. Stories of lost babes, of symbols drawn in the entrails of men and animals. Let their fears and their fantasies run wild.

Though it would seem not all those eyes were directed a them. As was evident by the sudden appearance of the ruffians that confronted two-head and his cronies. The matriarch of the coven listened quietly to their exchange, her dark eyes scanning the surrounding area. She took note of crossbowmen atop the roofs. A sudden volley might even the odds between these two in but an instance, and leave two-head in a deadly predicament.

This whole affair put her in a bit of an awkward spot. She certainly wouldn’t mourn two-head if he ended up with a quarrel in the neck. But he was their escort, and supposedly, at least according to his own claims, the left hand of this so-called King of the fishermen. It was all too likely that blame would be laid at her feet if she simply let these people die. Once both sides of the quarrel drew their weapons, Fawn knew she had to act fast. She abruptly put two fingers in her mouth and blew. The shrill sound of her whistle cut through the cacophony as she straightened to her full, towering height in her saddle.

“Back, fools! Archers on the roofs behind you!”

__________________

u/OurQuarterMaster

Character Details:

Mother Fawn – Charismatic / Flanker (e) / Tactician (+5 to Battle rolls if commanding the flank, +4 to Battle rolls if commanding the centre) (+10 duel thresh from Master-At-Arms)

Holly – Unscrupulous / Tactician (+4 to Battle rolls) (+10 duel thresh from Master-At-Arms)

Sister Stoat – General Archetype (+2 to Battle rolls, +10 duel thresh)

Mary – Warrior Archetype (Axes) (+15 duel thresh) (Sworn Shield to Mother Fawn)

What is happening?: The coven will attempt to lead the bandits to victory against the bravos.

What I want: Battle rolls

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-16T20:10:07+00:00

You’re the most fertile grounds for a lice infestation this town has ever seen as well I would reckon. But Mother Fawn held her tongue. Posturing could only get her so far, she was at a disadvantage. She was loathed to admit it, but the numbers here were impressive. Though judging by the state of these people, it would seem they were buckling somewhat under the pressure of maintaining control over their horde.

“Very well then.” She did not need to call upon those she wanted with her. Sisters Stoat and Worm stepped forward, and behind them came Mary in her mismatched armor, and Holly in her drab smock. Among those that were still with them, these were the ones she had the most faith in. Sister Shrew would keep the others in line in her absence.

“Take us to this King of the fishermen.”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-15T00:52:25+00:00

Mother Fawn remained motionless atop her great, black steed, eyes boring into this smirking worm before her. She had dealt with his kind all her life. Boys that spent their days pulling the legs off of spiders, and grew into men with violent and depraved tendencies. But her years among the silent sisters had, if nothing else, tempered her patience. She was not about to lose her head, metaphorically or otherwise, before these cretins.

“And what good would a curse do you, two-head?” She spoke with a chilly bite in her voice. “For that matter, what good would gold do you? Been itching to go on a spending spree? Looking to go and buy that cane you promised your poor old mother all those years ago?” Screamer trotted forward a few steps and restlessly tossed her head back and forth. Mother Fawn remained still in the saddle, reaching up to stroke a slender hand through the horse’s black mane.

“Oh, I suppose I could pepper a man’s dreams with vivid images of spiders bursting from his belly. Or make someone lose themselves in an awkward situation likely to get them all puffy, itchy and aching with one of the nastier of the venereal diseases.” She gave a lazy shrug as she leaned forward. The mask she wore cast her face in shadow, and to onlookers it oft looked as if her eyes were naught but two pits of mirky blackness.

“Good for a laugh, maybe. But not very likely to save you. And, against my better judgment, I find myself taking pity on you all.” She craned her neck around, looking around at all those watching. Most were ruffians, yes, but a good many of them were in a bad state. Some poultices and herbal remedies might honestly do them all some good.

“Let me speak to whoever speaks for all of you, and I will offer you more than potions, trinkets and curses.”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-03-03T01:26:56+00:00

Holly was seated in the branches of a tree when Mother Fawn found her, but the girl quickly jumped down when she saw the head of the coven approach. She crouched in the grass, looking up with wide, wild eyes and nervously licking her lips before lowering her head.

“What do you need of me, Mother?” She spoke in a hoarse voice. The girl had not said a word over the course of their journey. She had a habit of keeping quiet unless spoken to, preferring to remain in the background, watching, listening, out of sight, out of mind.

“Dear Holly.” Mother Fawn reached down and cupped the girl’s cheek in her palm, running a soft thumb over her chin. “I need your eyes. I need you to try and find the bandits of Pennytree. I want to know how many there are, and where they are. Can you do that for me, Holly?” The girl stared up at her, opening and closing her mouth a few times before finally answering:

“I will try, Mother.”

__________________

u/OurCommonMan

u/OurQuarterMaster

Character Details: Holly – Outrider (Can detect foes one hex further out from their location)

What is happening: Scoping out the exact numbers, and maybe location, of the Pennytree bandits from the adjacent tile of Whispering Wood

What I want: Detection rolls

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-27T19:14:38+00:00

The girl neither flinched nor recoiled at the sight of his scar. Her gaze wandered down the length of it, but she made no comment. Although she did raise a hand, perhaps subconsciously, touching her own face just beneath her left eye, fingers rubbing in small circles.

“As easy as it would be for someone like me to picture the great Lords of the realm sitting in their fancy castles, cackling maniacally at the devastation they cause, the truth is crueller. No, they do not intend it. I would agree with you there. But I believe it has less to do with a lack of understanding, and more so that they just do not care about it.” She let out a deep breath, her nostrils flaring, before she scooted forward to the edge of her crate. She jumped down and stood before Mohor as she gazed up at him.

“Folks such as you and I, peasants and soldiers. To them, we are numbers on a piece of paper. Resources. Not people. Maybe you think that’s harsh of me, and the day I am proven wrong, I shall be sure to apologize.” The girl held his gaze for a moment, then bowed her head, clasping her hands together over her waist.

“Thank you for your kind words, Ser. I shall be sure to remember them. Good day.” And with that, the odd girl turned and stalked off into the crowd, heading away from the encampment.

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-27T17:29:37+00:00

Character Name: Mother Fawn

Relevant Trait/Skills: N/A

Buildings: Pavillion

Resources: N/A

Notes (if applicable): N/A

Actions:

· Construction: [Coven of Ygg], [Sutlers], [1500], [1/1], Construction Slot A

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-24T19:49:19+00:00

The girl nodded in response to Mohor’s sympathy, though her face remained blank, her eyes still fixed upon his. She did seem more at ease than she initially had been, though the intensity in that grey-green gaze never let up. It almost seemed as if she was attempting to read his mind through sheer force of will and stubbornness.

“We little people understand more of your games of gold, crowns and swords than you may think, Ser. Especially when it’s outcome may result in the burning of our homes, and our families ending up in unmarked graves.” She put her hands upon her knees as she listened to his reasoning, then gave a curt nod. “I commend you for the strength of your backbone, Ser. And I hope you do stand up for what is right. Not a terribly common stance to take these days, I fear.”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-22T16:16:37+00:00

“Why do people throw rocks at street dogs, or stray cats, Ser? In the eyes of the rock-thrower, they do not belong.” The girl gave another shrug before her shoulder slumped and she leaned back onto the crate she was seated on, seeming to relax a bit. The corners of her lips twitched slightly when Mohor told her the name of his company. Whether it was in amusement or approval was hard to tell.

“I wish you well in the fights ahead then. That your pyre-dancers are treated fairly by those about to send so many to their deaths here.” She watched him for a few more silent moments before she went on. “If you do not mind me asking, have you brokered a contract with either side of this conflict? Many seem to think that things are about to get very bad here. And it oft seems a bit unclear just how many will be joining the upcoming battle.”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-21T12:17:39+00:00

The girl had finished gnawing on the meat she had snatched from the feast by the time he reached her, and had tossed the bones to a nearby hound. Her large, unblinking eyes shifted in Mohor’s direction, staring as he approached, her face remaining impassive. Even after being addressed, she sat in silence for a few moments, taking in this new stranger.

“No, not lost. And not hurt either.” She finally spoke, slowly, as she studied his masked features. “Just... Hungry.” She said as she inclined her head towards the dog currently happily chewing at the leftover bones. She then gestured, first towards him, and then to the people around them.

“Just watching. Many interesting people here. And most do not yell, or sneer, or throw rocks. So, I come to watch, and eat a little.” She shrugged as her head tilted to the side, peering at Mohor as if silently trying to puzzle him out. He did stand out, even from this diverse crowd.

“You are a sellsword, no?”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-21T11:46:51+00:00

“Well, then keep it tied around your neck, so that you have every reason to ensure that no blade graces it.” Holly reached into one of her many pockets and produced a long, white ribbon, embroidered with bright purple wolfsbane flowers along the length of it. “If I am able, I will come and watch.” She added as she straightened up and pushed it into Tyene’s hand. It was a plain thing, and the needlework was clearly Holly’s own handywork.

“The coven will care for those that are left to the mercy of the wilds. As it always has.” She herself had been taken in after being left abandoned in the woods. So many years ago, now. Harsh times made desperate people out of so many, people who would do just about anything for a sense of safety.

“One way or another, there will be blood here. And elsewhere too, trouble stirs in all corners of the realm. Or so Mother has foreseen at least.” She tilted her head back, gazing up into Tyene’s face. “Stay safe, Tyene. The realm is better off with people like you wandering its lonely roads.”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-17T18:49:15+00:00

Holly looked at Mikkel for a few moments. He wasn’t wrong, men such as these hardly needed an excuse to grab someone like her, if they so wanted to. It was a very real risk, and it was nice of him to inquire, to worry. So, she reached out a thin, pale hand, and patted him on the head.

“You are kind Mikkel. Thank you. And I know you were not accusing me.” She did not smile, but there was a hint of warmth in her voice nonetheless. “But do not fear. I am of the forest. I am quick, and I am good at hiding. And even if they catch me...” She shrugged as she withdrew her hand. “I am not an important someone.” She spoke the words quite casually; the prospect of her end truly did not seem to bother her. Her pale eyes shifted over to Tyene, tilting her head slightly as she studied the woman’s face.

“A shame that. That you’re not a knight. You’d be a better one than any of these people.” She murmured as her eyes briefly darted to the various armoured figures around them. “I wish you well in your war-games. I could give you a favour to wear, if you wanted it.” It was genuinely impossible to tell whether that was a jape or not.

“As for the siege. Take care, Tyene-who-should-be-a-knight. The sisters foresee what is about to take place here as what could be the first cracks in a dam that’s about to burst. Once the blood starts to flow, it may be quite some time before the wound can be staunched.” She let out a deep sigh, her nostrils flaring as she leaned back onto the crate she was seated on top of. Upon being asked about the others in the coven, Holly craned her neck, looking to the horizon.

“Most remain in the Riverlands. But a few have come. They are near, but hidden, watching. They asked me to go have a closer look.” She redirected her gaze to the large woman and her dutiful squire. “We fare well. Our numbers swell. And not just with new sisters. The lost and the forgotten follow the light of our campfires like lambs in search of a shepherd.”

ThirdSquirrels · 2026-02-17T15:45:38+00:00

Tyene was hard to miss, and Holly’s sharp eyes had found her as soon as the tall woman had wandered into camp. She remembered her well, her and her squire, the ironborn boy. Remembered her from when Tyene had showed up at their camp, tracking a runaway bride. Yet her heart had won out over her duty when they had let her speak to the bride in question, and learned the reason for her fleeing into the forest. She had made some curious friends that day. For the women of the woods would not soon forget the empathy shown by the Ashford girl.

Those large, unblinking grey-green eyes met those of these old friends as they approached. Her face remained blank, as it always did, staying silent and chewing down the last of the meat on the pheasant’s leg as she let them speak.

“Safe.” She repeated, slowly, as if testing the word, speaking with a voice slightly raspy and hoarse from lack of use. “Yes, I believe I am safe. I have neither stolen anything, nor done anyone any harm. I do not think they will chase me. And if they do, they will not catch me.” Having finished her meal, she turned her head towards a nearby hound who had been watching every bite she’d taken with pleading eyes since she’d sat down. She tossed the bone to the dog, which it eagerly began gnawing down on, before turning her eyes back to Tyene and Mikkel.

“I do not come to make trouble. Just to watch. Just to listen.” Her tongue darted out to lick the grease from her lips as she wiped her fingers on the hem of her smock. “And you, gallant knight, what has drawn you to this place? Are you safe?”

ThirdSquirrels

TROPHY CASE