Copyright Disclaimer: I obviously don't own A Song of Ice and Fire by George RR Martin (very obviously, duh) none of his creations are my own nor is any profit earned on my part, this is all purely a work of Fair Use for my own enjoyment, all free of charge, updated as quickly as I can manage. I heavily encourage Reviews as they do wonders for my writing speed + you can join my Discord via invite/XBuK6tCAB7 or visit SoulGamesInc on Youtube

Introduction: Welcome to the Sunset Starks, my first true work of creative writing that has grown into something larger than I'd ever expected, to the point that I've begun writing my own original work. This fic however finds its roots as early as 2015 when I first started on the concept of basically "what if there were Starks across the Sunset Sea" and answering that question. It has since undergone an entire re-write in 2020 or 2021 (I don't remember when exactly) to better meet quality standards as my writing improved over the years. I still don't consider myself a "Professional" by any stretch but am confident in my ability to forge a compelling narrative/characters, that as a rule I attempt to make as "real" or "human" as possible; often resulting in situations that upset some readers who dislike what we'll call "Main Character Death" that is a weird thing to dislike when you're reading A Song of Ice and Fire… but I digress… here there be monsters and nobody is safe, as reality isn't a Disney movie and life isn't always sunshine.

Sunset Starks has an array of OC's plus a great focus on World Building and exploring the lesser known areas of GRRM's world. I especially enjoy the Lovecraftian vibes, personally. We start off following (mostly) the perspective of one Willam Stark, the youngest wayward son of the ruling King who acts as what many could consider the Main character – though that isn't a title I'd use for him – there are dark themes, struggle, conflicts, magic, death and other themes that aren't exactly for the weak of heart. If you're looking for a sunshine and rainbows story where the Starks auto-win and everything is Black and White morality, then you're in the wrong place my friend.

Reviews/Comments are welcomed and encouraged :) let me know your thoughts and if you're enjoying chapters, as it often encourages me to write.

Chapter Edits: Sunset has undergone a facelift once already in its lifetime and as of May 2023 is undergoing further/final minor adjustments before the final stretch of the story :) these tweaks include typo correction, small adjustments, even smaller improvements and basically fulfilling the role of Editor in the absence of any actual editor - not to say that none have offered - I simply don't trust people with my work. It's nothing personal. So, if you see minor changes in the coming weeks/months it'll likely be adjustments/improvements to existing chapters. I'll remove this "Chapter Edits" psa on Chapter 1 once edits finalize and we continue :)

Tldr is that we're undergoing edits/fixes to small errors that you may come across occasionally until they're ironed out. Ty for Reaching!

Chapter 1: The Shipwright
"Across the Sunset and unto Dawn!"
– King Brandon the Shipwright

It was unlike anything the North had witnessed in living memory. Thousands of men, women and children gathered at Sea Dragon Point regardless of status or means; the King had called on all and any with the courage to join him on what he'd declared to be the greatest venture any in Westeros had ever or would ever know. They came in droves from far and wide, lords and lowborn alike, all eager and hopeful that this promised future across the sea would prove brighter than their current lives.

King Brandon Stark stood atop the battlements of Fargard looking out over the Sunset Sea with glee, his greatest voyage standing before him. It was a dream he'd held to stubbornly since he was a wee Prince playing with wooden ships in the safety of home. Now, he stood as King, with the Sunset Sea calling his name.

"Your Grace," came a voice familiar to the king. The boy waited for a response. Brandon did not turn to eye the boy, looking down instead at the shoreline where his mighty fleet rested, waiting for him impatiently. So many had answered his call. Nobles had sent their third or fourth born sons, or cousins, or uncles, the spares unable to inherit anything in the North besides the sword; or a black cloak. Few would pick the Night's Watch over a kingly promise of new lands across the sea.

"Join me," Brandon had told his people. "Join me and prosper, my people, my brothers and sisters! Across the Sunset and unto Dawn!"

He'd always been one for speeches. His people and lords and lowborn alike all loved the man for it, as his reign had been a popular one.

That said, not all shared his vision. There were many among the nobility that questioned the wisdom in risking the Western Fleet for such a risky venture; chief among them, the Prince of Winterfell, as Brandon's eldest was all duty and no heart.

"Father?" The boys voice brought a weary sigh from the Kings lips.

"Bran!" He mustered a smile, ready for another lecture. Gods, how he'd grown…

"Please father?" The boy was long since a man by now, with pups of his own in truth; but would forever be a boy in his father's eyes. The same cub that he'd taught to swing a sword. "It's not too late. Tell the lords it is folly; I beg of you, end this madness and come home!"

"My dear boy," King Brandon turned to clasp his son's shoulder. "You're my greatest pride, you know this, I trust?"

"I-" The Prince diverted his eyes. "Please father, it's not too late, the lords may grumble but we can go home and forget this…"

"You and your mother, gods keep her, are my first loves." The wind blew through the old king's grey hair as he spoke with a sad smile. "This venture will be my last. I will succeed, of this I know; the sea is my third love, but I shall not return. I go knowing the North is in capable hands, with plenty of little pups to do better than I."

"You're a stubborn old fool," the boy snarled at his father. "Mother would call you as such and worse, you know it!"

She would indeed. He smiled genuinely at that; as his heart ached, longing to see her again. "She'll curse me soon enough lad," he laughed gladly at the thought. She'd scold him for taking so long to join her of that he did not doubt. "I'll join her with the gods, and she'll scold me dead twice over…"

"Then stay," the boy shrugged his father's hand away. "Spend your last days at Winterfell, see your grandson grow, bore him with tales of your damn adventures! Just stay father, for us?" King Brandon eyed his boy. He'd make a fine king, this much he believed.

"Bran," he held a sword and scabbard in hand now, wrapped warmly in wolfskin.

"You never call me Bran-"

The Prince stood wide-eyed as he realised.

"Ice belongs to you now," his father held out the sword and handed it over gladly, as the Stark kings had done for generations; the blade had always belonged to them ever since it was originally crafted by Brandon the Builder so long ago only to be reforged in Valyrian Steel.

There had been a second sword born of the builder as well, Frost, the undying namesake of House Frost.

"This belongs to you father," the Prince protested, holding the blade in shaky hands like a child might hold a toy.

"It belongs to the King of Winter," Brandon smiled at his son's hesitance. It was the crown however that caused the boy most alarm, off from the greying locks of King Brandon and into unready hands; held out as a gift few would think to refuse.

The Prince didn't move, holding Ice tighter in his grip.

"Take it," the King insisted. "You're king now my-"

"No," the Prince shook his head. "No!"

"It's your duty Bran, you know this, you-"

"Duty?!" He spat the word like venom. "What do you know of duty, Your Grace?! You who left so often for flights of fancy on your damn ships? You who abandoned us then and now, no matter how hard I try to talk reason? What will I tell your grandson!?"

"Bran," King Brandon pleaded, moving his free hand to reach out to his boy.

"No!" The gesture was cast away. "Keep your crown father, flee, you damn fool!"

Prince Brandon Stark stormed from the battlements in a fury, grasping onto Ice with white knuckles and a burning rage in his heart; followed at the heels by a young lad with snow-white hair and blue eyes. He'd look back on this day with regrets come the dawn, only to find that hindsight was no friend to kings.

It was the last time he'd see his father. He'd die with that regret.

"Your Grace?" A new voice snapped the king from his wayward stupor.

"Rylen," he greeted the man with a weary sigh, his frown etched into stone.

"I see the Prince took things well?" The man grinned half-heartily.

"King now," Brandon explained. "He's your King now Farstark, not I…"

"Long may he reign," Rylen Farstark said without delay, eyes judging his old friend.

He was surprised to be handed the crown, half Stark or not. It wasn't the done thing.

"Prince Brandon refused the crown?"

That wasn't good. The lords would not be pleased…

"He's angry," Brandon scoffed. "The boy will settle. You know how he can be Ry."

"Aye," Rylen did know. The wolfsblood howled in that boy since he was a mere pup.

"You will give it to him for me, old friend? Tell him how proud I am? Do this thing for me…"

"I shall," Rylen knelt then; ever dutiful. "I swear it by earth and water, by bronze and iron, by Ice and Fire."

Brandon Stark bid his friend rise. "You needn't be so damn dramatic cousin."

Lord Farstark smiled. "Shall we meet your adoring public one last time, cousin?"

"Aye, we shall." Brandon took one last look out over the battlements before they left together. The water was so calm, the horizon calling him, his sorrows all but forgotten for a moment. He'd pray at Fargard's hearttree before setting sail, to ask the gods for smooth sailing; mostly for his boy in the trials he'd face ahead of him.

"Let his reign be peaceful," Brandon the Shipwright would pray of the gods. "Let him live through a long summer and die an older and wiser man than I…"

It would start in fire. King Brandon the Burner would begin his reign on his knees in ashes, his father's crown in hand, howling into the night as his grief set light to the anchored fleet at Seadragon Point and the port with it. None know what truly transpired and why the Burner all but doomed House Farstark to ruin, but the house and its brief legacy faded into history as a result. The Burner would spend his reign fighting a renewed Ironborn threat, who were all too eager to take advantage of the Norths weakened state. His kingdom would never recover its western strength at sea and Brandon the Burner refused to step foot on a ship for the remainder of his life.

The Stoney Shore would earn its name as every coastal town was turned to rubble and Winterfell would scarcely recall a time of more conflict and turmoil.

In the end The Shipwright would never learn how the gods had seemed to ignore his prayers for a peaceful reign.

The Burner would be remembered by history as a man who struggled because of his own father's foolishness.

A hundred ships had set sail from the great ports at Fargard along Seadragon Point, boasting a hundred each crewing most of the larger classed vessels; named "Snows" with their two square rigged masts and double decks. They carried lowborn, nobles, sailors and smallfolk alike, each flying an assortment of banners from Stark to Glover, Mormont, Ryder, Flint, Frost, and many more; including the Grey and and Farstarks who had all come to support their kin in such an ambitious venture.

The Shipwright stood at the helm of his flagship 'the Shipwright' that bore his name, the largest in his fleet and a marvel of engineering made possible only by the aid of Braavos who gifted King Brandon with the ship for past services. It was a trade the man was all too eager to make. He'd no regrets for the past, believing his flagship to be the envy of all others in the known world – though the truth of such a claim was questionable – the Swan Ships of the Summer Islands might dispute.

There had been no breeze for almost a fortnight and when the wind had finally returned, the sky turned an eerie crimson.

"Still no sign of land, father…"

Prince Varik Stark worried aloud, seeming almost bored.

His father smirked, rolling his eyes at the youngest prince's impatience.

The boy was a fifth son, this venture his only chance to escape the shadows of the pack.

"We've awhile to go yet lad," Brandon told his youngest wolf. "The Sunset is vast..."

"And bloody endless," Varik countered.

"Not endless my boy… not quite endless…"

They'd been at sea for a week. The winds returned with smooth sailing, yet any foolish hopes of finding landfall so soon was just that – foolish – as a storm was brewing far in the distance, the Wargs could see as much, a cause for some concern. The Sunset Sea was known for its harsh storms and sea monsters, though the latter were myth.

"Captain Bolvir!" Brandon called out to the man as his eyes glanced the storm growing ahead.

"Aye Your Grace!" The man yelled, turning his head sharp to order a crewmate. "I see the bastard!"

"Your thoughts good man?" Brandon asked politely of him, walking to his side with locked fixed on the brewing danger.

The storm looked vast, a growing darkness that seemed to blot out the sun, nothing minor; looming on the horizon as if to taunt the fleet.

"If we sail around, she'll fade, or we'll avoid her… but it'll cost us time Your Grace…"

"Or it'll cost us lives'," Brandon muttered. "No. I'll not risk it, Captain. We sail around..."

"Agreed Your Grace," The Captain nodded gladly for that order.

The storm grew closer, creeping, crawling as the fleet moved to avoid it.

"Something is wrong," Brandon thought suddenly, feeling a chill in his bones.

The storm raged ahead, like no storm he'd ever witnessed.

"The Farwind!" A cry came from the crow's nest above them.

A chorus of shouts followed.

"She's turning!"

"The flags raised!"

"What in the gods name is he doing?" Varik added his own voice, rushing to the edge of the deck; shoving crewmen aside to get a better view. The Farwind was Farstarks ship, and it was turning sharply, right towards the wrath of the storm.

Rylen's boy had either lost his wits to the sea, or something was very wrong…

"More signals!" The watcher in the nest cried out for all to hear, panic growing in his tone.

"Your Grace?" Captain Bolvir asked with a stony look, the mask of bravery about him. "What should we-"

The crack was deafening, like thunder, a great whip cracked out across the fleet and seemed to stun every soul into silence. All voices died with it and the Shipwrights crew watched in awe as time seemed to pass slower. The Farwind was shoved aside, rammed from the far side by some unknown enemy.

"All hands, to arms!" Brandon cried out his orders. "We're under attack!"

By what, he couldn't say, there were no sails and nothing in sight; yet it was surely an attack… "By the Gods," is all Brandon heard his son mutter, as the whole crew backed away from the ships edge besides his ever-brave boy. The young wolf pup turned to eye his father, with fear fresh in his eyes.

"KRAKEN!" The watchers cry snapped all from their stance, back to reality. The Farwind had since turned too far, to face away from the fleet, revealing its keel all but shattered; with a great oily black monster clinging to its hull like a damn leach sucking blood from a man.

"Signal the port!" Brandon commanded, refusing to abandon the Farwind to the tender care of such a beast.

At his orders, the bulk of the fleet fled onward to avoid the storm with the flagship of Mormont taking lead. It was of no use against a monster – Brandon wished his people safe. That included the Farwind and her crew, many of whom appeared to have abandoned ship.

The Farwinds main mast snapped and fell under the kraken's tendrils.

"Dead Ahead!"

"Your Grace?!"

"Ram the bastard, Bolvir!"

The wind was with them in the fury of the coming storm.

"Father!" Prince Varik pleaded. "Corren's on that damn ship!"

Rylen's youngest. Gods forgive him, there was no other choice; the Farwind was lost…

"Dead Ahead," Brandon repeated; louder still. "Raise the white flag, show our intent!"

"You'll destroy her, father!"

"She's already lost," Brandon snapped. "We can save her crew!"

The Shipwright closed distance with the speed of a raging storm, closer and closer still, straight for the Farwind and the beast that held her in its desperate tendrils. The ship's crew, or those that remained, had abandoned the wreck for the uncertainty of the sea.

"BRACE!" Brandon screamed atop his lungs, and his crew held firm. The two ships collided with a crash.

The Shipwrights bowsprit speared the gigantic creature like a hot knife into butter, causing the beast to wail and cry out something frightful; worse than any noise Brandon had ever heard. "STARK!" The cries came as the beast was impaled, dying, black blood flowing into the sea.

"Get the survivors!" Brandon ordered; his eyes darted swiftly to the storm. "We're not out of the woods yet! All hands!"

"We'll never make it," the captain muttered to his king. "Not with the beast weighing us down…"

It was still skewered on the Shipwrights bow.

"Gods be dammed…"

The sea was black with blood around them as the Farwind sank like a stone into the depths, the stink of it assaulting all onboard; the reek of blood and seaweed. Two other ships of the fleet had followed the Shipwright in its charge, standing by idly in awe.

"We'll have to abandon the Shipwright for the Frostbite," suggested Prince Varik hastily.

"There were two," came another voice from a man drenched in blood; clawing himself onto the deck.

"What?" Brandon asked, eyeing the young man. Something in his eyes spoke of horrors.

"Corren!" Prince Varik rushed the man and embraced him as a brother, despite the smell.

"Two," the blood drenched Corren Farstark snarled more akin to a cornered wolf than any mortal man. "By the gods and the lives of my crew I swear it... the first was huge, knocked off my fucking stern! The whole damn thing!"

Silence washed over the ship. That was… madness…

"The kraken crawled onto my deck like it was…"

"It was what?" Brandon asked warily of the boy.

Farstark's mind seemed to wander off from reality.

"Cousin?" Varik asked his friend, growing all too clearly concerned.

The man never had a chance to explain as the Shipwright jolted, and half the crew lost their footing.

"Corren!" Prince Varik called out to his friend as the man was flung back over the ship, into the blood, into the darkness.

"What now?!" Brandon thought, his wolfsblood raising in the chaos of it all. Varik had moved to grab his friend, just in time to watch him fall, and now between the ripples of blood and saltwater he could see a shadow move underneath; larger than anything had any right to be. This was no mere kraken.

The truth of things revealed itself as the Shipwright's crew watched the Frostbite hoisted up out of the bloodied sea by a small island of scales and fins, lifting the ship up with unnatural ease and knocking it aside. The crew's screams rang out as it fell crashing back down into the sea, splintering, sinking into the depths of blood.

"Gods save us all," Captain Bolvir managed to say as all others began to panic.

"It's a sea dragon!" One of the crew declared in their terror. "We're dead!"

Sea Dragons were a damn myth. Just a myth….

"It'll eat us whole!"

The crew continued to panic.

"Madness," Brandon muttered the words, near speechless.

It happened in an instant. There was nothing any mortal man could do as the beast lunged out of the waves, a snake-like head full of razor sharp teeth opened wide to slice through the dead kraken with no effort at all, taking the bowsprit with it and jolting the entire Shipwright in the action; sending men flying this way and that.

The last thing Brandon saw was the main mast as he was flung from the helm.

Voices called out as the world seemed to fade.

"The King!"

"Where's the dragon!?"

"Gods save us!"

The voices faded.


He'd been a poor father in life, he feared in that moment….

Young Bran, he hoped, would one day forgive him for leaving.

"Get the fucking healer!" one voice ordered. "Go! Now damn you!"

Gods, how had everything gone so wrong? "Lyla is going to kill me," the once King Brandon Stark would've laughed at the thought of his dead wife killing him a second time over, even smiled at it, but by the gods he was tired and the world so very heavy.

Brandon the Shipwright went to sleep, lost in the middle of the Sunset Sea.

The gods were ever cruel to torment him with such frightful dreams as these…

"Your Grace?" His sons voice called out in a whisper as the old King opened his eyes.

"My boy," Brandon groaned, his headache nearly as vast as the Sea. "I had the strangest dream…"

"Oh?" Prince Varik asked, waiting to hear his father's tales. It was to the old wolf as if he was a child in Winterfell again listening to grand tales of adventure. Gods how he missed those days when thing's seemed so much simpler. "What's the story now, old man?"

"Krakens lad," Brandon began warily, groaning at the stabbing within his head. "And a sea dragon the size of a damn island, tossed the Frostbite aside like one of your sisters dolls… and I'd never been so terrified my boy. It was colossal Varik, like something out of nightmare…"

The Prince managed a smirk at his father's words, however hollow a thing it was in truth.

"The Frostbite was shattered," he moved to kneel beside the bed. "Farwind's lost, with half her crew, but we got the kraken at least…"

Brandon sighed at the news. Not merely a dream then, it seemed. "And the dragon?"

"It stole our kraken," The young prince chuckled at his own jest, though it too was hollow.

It was such madness that one hoped it were a dream.

"Not a dream then eh my boy?"

"No," Varik denied. "Sadly, not a dream father…"

A moment passed in silence as Brandon tried to remember the details.

"Corren fell," the boy filled the quiet. "It happened too fast, too dark, we couldn't find him…"

Ry's boy lost to the depths. So many others lost too, nobles or otherwise.

"Lord Frost is assumed lost with the Frostbite, we've few if any of his crew."

Frost's youngest was on the Seawolf, safe from all this madness, with any luck.

Theirs was an ancient house with old magic in their blood.

To lose that bloodline would have been a great shame.

"The storm that followed the beast was just as hellish."

"The storm?" Brandon shifted himself up in the feathered bed.

"It snuck up on us like a damn viper," Varik explained with a frown on his face. "You were knocked unconscious father; we feared the worst. Not long after the storm battered us, and the next storm that followed took our fucking foremast as a prize..."

"Everything has gone to shit in my absence, I see..."

Prince Varik scoffed at that notion. "I'd say krakens and sea dragons was fairly shit even with your presence, father."

That was fair enough one supposed. Brandon only hummed his admittance.

"I'd take the storms gladly," his boy remarked. "Thank the gods the beast seemed content with snacking on the kraken…"

If that monstrosity had seen them as worth its time? They'd be helpless to do anything to stop it.

Still, that beggared the question…

"And what of the fleet my boy? We still sail?"

"We found the others," Varik explained with a sigh. "Then not a day after that, another storm hunted us stronger than the last. That cruel bastard took a mast and more than one good ship. Others suffered damage akin to our own – things weren't good…"

Brandon wasn't sure what had caused more damage, the monsters, or the damn storms.

"You've been out for just over a week," the Prince explained. "Slept right through the storms."

"I'm old lad," Brandon managed a smile for the pup. "Old people nap a lot. Now, help me to my feet."

Walking out onto the Shipwrights deck, the damage was vast and obvious, although the hull was intact the bowsprit had been ripped clean away; the rear mast a splintered ruin. Brandon's priced flagship was near broken. "The Greywind has taken lead," Varik explained as he led his father on deck where the crew greeted him with cheers, glad to see their old king up and walking among the living.

No doubt, they hadn't smiled in some time of late.

"Greystark didn't offer you the command my boy?"

"He did," Varik shrugged. "I refused to leave your side, and the Shipwright isn't fit for task."

It wasn't. His flagship was barely holding together, a damn miracle she could still float at all.

"Half the fleet is gone," Brandon realized aloud to his horror as eyes laid upon what remained of the once mighty fleet.

"Aye," his boy sighed. "The storms father, you should've seen them; it wasn't natural…"

"The gods are with us lad, they must be; or surely we'd never have made it this far."

"The gods?" Varik raised a brow, ready to argue. The Old Gods had no eyes at sea.

A bird flew overhead, cawing at the crew.

"Fuck the damn gods-"

"There's a bird?" Brandon stared at the sky in awe, watching the bird fly overhead.

Not one of their own…

"It's a bloody gull…"

A horn blew from ahead from the Greywind's crow's nest. Harooooooooooooooooooooo, it cried, it's voice as long and low and chilling as a cold wind from home. Silence broke into cheers as a wave of relief washed over the fleet, as if every man and woman left living was holding a breath they hadn't realized.

Brandon and his whole crew rushed to what remained of the Shipwrights once mighty bow. "Land… there's land…"

The word seemed so foreign, so distant, a hope that had begun to die for many among the fleet by now. Surely enough on the horizon a line of great white cliffs appeared from the light morning fog. The Winter Fleet rushed eagerly to landfall, to taste hope they'd all but lost.

"It's beautiful," Brandon the Shipwright muttered, almost falling to his knees at the sight.

"Aye," Prince Varik agreed. "And vast too… I never doubted you father…"

"I did," the old wolf thought as the sun raised up above the cliffs ahead of them.

They'd made it, despite everything the gods tested them with; despite the losses and the blood – before them laid the Sunset Islands, future home of those that followed him into the unknown at great cost to themselves. No venture was without its risk. Nothing worth doing was ever easy, and they'd made it despite the odds.

Brandon would be the first to step foot on the beach, his people quick to follow their king.

"Winter can weather any storm," the old wolf declared proudly as his people found a new home.

The Sunset Islands proved a vast and mighty archipelago that Brandon's people were quick to settle. The largest island was claimed by Brandon himself and the fortress of Winterhold would be raised atop the very same white cliffs that had first greeted his fleets arrival. In the years that followed, as his descendants made the Islands home, a town below the white cliffs of Winterhold grew in size and prosperity to become the largest port city in the Sunset Islands – home to the anchored Winter Fleet – the Shipwright's descendants would never lose their love of the sea, as harsh and unforgiving a mistress as it could be to them at times.

Time passed as it always does. Violently. Unforgiving. At first many tried returning east back to Westeros but none would ever survive such ventures, until soon enough the mere idea became one of madness, naught but a cautionary tale for children. Many generations later, with Brandon the Shipwright now naught but an adventure story for young Stark princes, one such prince dreamed of sailing to Westeros, to do the undoable and escape from the world.

As the great Shipwright had done a thousand years before him, a Stark dreamed of sailing across the Sunset Sea.

Character(s) Sheet: I've decided to leave an index/reference sheet of characters/houses for ease of reading as Sunset introduces a LOT of original characters that I've made - including a whole world of OC names - so here's a list of characters, their houses, plus some wolves and mottos. I do this because some people were having apparently trouble keeping track of everyone. I've a more detailed copy written down, but that includes many spoilers... because half of them are dead...

Names order is Husband & Wife = Children
and are all in order of Eldest Child to Youngest.
N/A is for those without any offspring aka No Kids
and exact character ages are mentioned in-chapter(s)

House Stark | (Winter is Coming)
King Brandon Stark & Visanna Fisher = Rodrik, Edrik, Artos, Lyarra, Cregan, Willam
Rodrik Stark & Moria Seastark = Darion, Varin
Edrik Stark & Jaina Mormont = Serana, Solana, Calia
Artos Stark & Randvi Sunstark = Brandon
Lyarra Stark = N/A
Cregan Snow = N/A
Willam Stark = N/A

House Greystark | (Winter's Wrath)
Lord Endrin Greystark = Trian, Duran, Bhelen

Note(s): House Greystark is the eldest of the cadet branches and the most loyal, serving the royal family as personal guards. When able there's a Greystark for every Stark; giving them their duty as Shields of Winter. They have for generations overseen the breeding of large grey wolves that are native to the Wrightwood to act as companions for their masters. To a Greystark, loyalty is like breathing, the idea of betrayal is unspeakable.

House Seastark | (Against the Tide)
Lord Brandel Seastark = Maric, Cailan, Jorg, Moira

Note(s): House Seastark is arguably the strongest of the cadet branches, controlling a large portion of the Winter Fleet. They're based in Wrightport, sharing the city with House Sunstark and House Wright; who also control sizeable but lesser chunks of the fleet. They have a long standing rivalry with Sunstark. The cadet branch is focused largely on the captaining and manning of naval efforts - making them arguably the most important family in the city.

House Sunstark | (Unto the Dawn)
Lord Arlan Sunstark = Loken Snow, Randvi

Note(s): The youngest of the cadet branches. They claim to be older than the Seastark's who in turn call the Sunstark's liars - thus beginning an ancient rivalry that due to the taboo against Kinslaying has stayed largely in the realms of outdoing the other without bloodshed. Recently the Winter Fever claimed the lives of nearly all of the Sunstark heirs; leaving a bastard to inherit. The cadet branch exists in Wrightport focused largely on land-based military efforts.

House Wright | (Across the Sunset)
Lord Hodir Wright = Uther, Arthur

Note(s): The descendants of a Stark bastard as far back as the Shipwright's rule, although this claim is disputed, the family is prominent regardless even if not considered a cadet of the royal family - they boast the best shipwrights the islands has to offer and are quite wealthy. Seated in Wrightport they largely handle mercantile efforts in the city while Seastark controls the naval efforts. Said to be the second most important family in the city.

House Ryder | (Louder than Words)
Lord Ragnar Ryder = Bolvar, Bjorn, Agnar, Qrow

Note(s): House Ryder is arguably the strongest house under the Starks aside from the cadet branches, they boast the islands supply of horses and provide some of its greatest warriors; always first into a fight letting steel do their talking instead of words. They are among the greatest loyalists and in place of marriage were granted many lands seized from House Frost supporters. They are also unruly and proud, answering to no one besides the King.

House Fisher | (Strong as Stone)
Lord Odyn Fisher = Thorim, Edwyn
Thorim & Talia Flint = N/A

Note(s): House Fisher is easily the richest house on the Islands, as rulers of the second largest port in the kingdom; whom unlike the Seastark's or Sunstark's or Wright's don't share said port with another house - relying heavily on fishing to supply the Islands with ample food stocks for the Winter while trading heavily with the Empire to the south. They also control a sizeable fleet and have recently been tied to the crown through Odyn's sister, Queen Visanna.

House Mormont | (Here We Stand)
Lord Dalin Mormont = Derek, Arving, Jaina

Note(s): A naval-focused family based out of Longland, named for their old family sword Longclaw and the narrow stretch of small islands they now call home amongst the northern archipelago. Although not as prominent as the Seastarks, Wrights or Fishers, they still contribute a notable fleet and have a reputation for supplying the Starks with ferocious warriors; both men and women - although such is fairly common among all nobility.

House Towers | (Tall and True)
Lord Tyr Towers = Gavvar

Note(s): A minor but proud house based out of their castle named Highgard, having gained favour of late for its loyalist stance during the Frost Rebellions; although many consider their supposed loyalty an act of ambition more than true love for the Stark family.

House Umber | (Bound in Blood)
Lord Willard Umber = Osric

Character Notes: A major house on the islands, the Umbers boast a strong standing force out of their seat New Hearth; where they claimed a large island with ample supplies for themselves - beating others to the location and beginning construction quickly. They've remained loyal to the Stark family throughout the ages without once faltering, although often find themselves at odds with House Ryder over resources and reputation.

House Amber | (Sworn to Valour)
Lady Dyanna Amber = Ashlyn, Rodrik

Note(s): House Amber hold to the virtues of justice and law above all things, never ambitious, never grasping. The perfect banner, no doubt; until the king they serve breaks that law - and so they rose in rebellion twice alongside House Frost. The wars were lost, costing the house its lord and sons, leaving it in the hands of a freshly widowed daughter subject to Starks. Ashlyn Amber was her mother's heir until young Rodrik Amber was born.

House Flint | (Ever Vigilant)
Lord Ethan Flint = Talan, Talia

Note(s): The Flint's are more traders than fighters, settled in a modest keep on a small island with a modest port close to House Fishers land. They've recently tied themselves to the crown indirectly via marriage to the heir of House Fisher; who in turn is a cousin to the Starks.

House Frost | (We Are Winter)
Lord Jaune Frost = Cedric, Eric, Elssa

Note(s): An ancient house with a shrouded past, once vigilant defenders of House Stark, they turned bitter towards the Starks of Winterhold for breaking Brandon the Shipwright's vow that the Starks of the Sunset would remain Princes of Winter; still swearing allegiance to the ever absent Winterfell.

The Imperial Lóng Dynasty
Emperor Qing Lóng & Several Wives = Nuwa, Liang, Xun, Lu, Zhenji, Lashi, Suko, Cai

Note(s): The Lóng Dynasty have ruled the Dawn Empire since they ousted the once ruling Tamashī Dynasty a thousand years ago, or so go the stories - their people once came from what is known today (by us, not them) as the Yi-Ti that were the original Empire of Dawn. The current Emperor's children, with few exceptions, all scheme for power and respect among the imperial court. The Lóngs have been tied to the Sunset Islands since its founding.

The Imperial Tamashī Dynasty
Prince Zihao Tamashī / Princess Yuanji

Note(s): The Tamashī family were those who originally led their people across the waste to the east from the old Dawn Empire upon its collapse, though in recent decades the story has changed to them being exiled from the west; the truth is lost is history as the Tamashī line is thought to have died long ago. Prince Zihao and his sister Princess Yuanji survive in the shadows of history however and plot a grand return to their ancestral seat of power.

The Stark's Wolves - the Islands have too many Warg's to list...
Loki: Rodrik's old wolf, father of Fenrir / Freki / Volki, he died years ago
Fenrir: Prince Darion's | Black fur, strongest and largest - eldest of Loki's litter
Freki: Prince Varin's | Black fur, strong and large; with scars - always close to Fenrir
Volki: Princess Serana's | Black fur, smaller and more agile/docile than her brothers
Sol: Prince Brandon's | White fur, he's young but loyal; unrelated to Loki's litter
Flash: Aedan Greystark's | Grey fur, he's very agile; and very smart - kin to the Greystark wolves
Vigil: Trian Greystark's | Brown fur, largest of the Greystark wolves
Lupa: Duran Greystark's | Grey fur, she-wolf and mother to Flash
Skoll: Bhelen Greystark's | Sandy fur, runt of his litter and ill-tempered