Eldest Daughter, Unbroken Will
Seris is the player character’s older sister, raised as a peasant yet shaped by a temperament suited to leadership. Like the rest of the family, she bears the coastborn Vlandic features of dark skin and long, curly hair, usually tied back when she works. Even before the raid, Seris stood out in Valanby for her discipline and capability. She learned to keep accounts for the household, negotiated fair prices with traders passing through, and assisted Jorven in organizing supplies for musters. Though denied formal training, she absorbed what she could by watching soldiers drill and listening to returning levy-men speak of roads, formations, and command.
Seris possesses the rare combination of composure and fire. She does not panic easily. When danger threatens, she assesses, organizes, and moves. Villagers naturally look to her in moments of confusion, despite her lack of formal authority. This made her a quiet leader even before the village burned. She does not seek glory, but she does not accept helplessness. The idea that her fate should be decided by bandits or distant lords offends her deeply.
When Seris is taken by River Bandits during the raid, it is not because she fails to fight back. It is because she refuses to abandon her younger brothers. She places herself between them and the attackers, buying time until she is overwhelmed. This act becomes central to how the player remembers her: not as a victim, but as someone who chose to stand when escape was possible.
In captivity or survival beyond the raid, Seris endures not through submission, but through adaptation. She studies her captors, memorizes routes, notes supply habits, and looks for moments of leverage. If rescued, she emerges changed: less idealistic, more strategic. If left behind, she becomes someone who learns to survive within brutal systems, perhaps rising within a rival power structure over time. Either outcome turns Seris into a long-term narrative mirror of what the player becomes: a peasant forced into politics and violence by necessity.
Younger Brother, Quiet Watcher (Age 9)
Corin is the quieter of the two younger brothers, a boy who watches more than he speaks. He has the same coastborn features as his siblings, but his eyes are always searching, measuring people and places with a seriousness unusual for his age. Before the raid, Corin followed Jorven constantly, fascinated by stories of soldiers, roads, and banners. He learned to recognize different banners by color and shape and could identify which lord’s patrol had passed through the fields days after they were gone.
Corin’s strength lies in attention. He notices details others overlook: which paths are rarely used, which traders avoid certain roads, which adults lie to children to spare them fear. During the raid, Corin attempts to lead his younger brother away through a hedgerow path he once saw travelers use to avoid toll collectors. They are captured before they can escape, but Corin’s instinct to move rather than freeze hints at a future shaped by caution and planning rather than brute force.
If Corin survives captivity, he carries a deep-seated fear of chaos and loud violence. He becomes someone who seeks control through knowledge: routes, names, allegiances. He may grow into a scout, informant, or tactician depending on how the world treats him afterward. Corin represents the path of survival through understanding rather than confrontation.
Younger Brother, Fierce Heart (Age 8)
Taren is the younger of the two boys, loud where Corin is quiet, stubborn where Corin is cautious. He idolizes warriors and banners without understanding the cost behind them. Before the raid, Taren played at being a knight in the fields, fashioning wooden swords and shields from scraps. He believed the stories Jorven told about standing against enemies meant that bravery alone could stop violence.
During the raid, Taren fights back recklessly, striking at attackers with whatever he can grab. This defiance draws attention to him and leads to his capture. Taren’s trauma is not just fear, but the shattering of his belief that courage alone is enough. If he survives, he may grow into someone driven by rage or shame, struggling with the gap between the heroic ideals of childhood and the cruelty of reality. Depending on how the player’s story unfolds, Taren could become fiercely loyal, dangerously impulsive, or deeply withdrawn.
Taren embodies the cost of romanticizing war in a world that treats it as currency. His arc becomes a living lesson in what happens when childhood heroism meets adult brutality.