The Red, Red Mountains
The Lord of Speartip still cuts a trim figure, his thinning hair shorn close to his skull, his once bright blue eyes framed in a stern face.
While not quite beyond the cares of day-to-day life, he rarely dresses in anything other than a fur-lined robe. It takes an important visitor, indeed, to make Solan Bernale don his finery. His left leg wounded during the fighting with the Ironmen, he is never without the walking stick he uses to get around. It’s regular beat against the floor often heralds his approach within the walls of Speartip, and his servants have learned to judge his moods by its cadence.
Ser Solan Burnale is the Lord of Speartip, but he was not born thus. A sworn knight of House Dayne, his heroism after the Battle of the Trident was “rewarded” with Lordship over Speartip, Highbarrow, and stewardship over the Huntsmans’ Pass. By the time of this boon, he was already married and a father twice over. Going from serving a house to ruling one has seen the death of many of Solan’s preconceptions, first among them was of a legacy carried forward by his son. Now he obsesses over how to win that back, in any form.