Name: Brod Darwood
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Age: 52
Sex: Male
Archetype: Merchant
Location: Waterfront District, Brod's Ironshods
Affiliations: Ironborne

Character Background and Description

Brod doesn’t appear to be an intimidating man. He stands at a short five foot four inches, and his physique is one of a man used to moving crates, not wielding weapons. He’s started to hunch over from sitting at his desk for too long, and uses a cane to walk. That, and his graying hair, shows his age.
However, there’s a reason the Ironshods work for him and customers don’t run to complain about poor business practices. Simply put, he’s a plotting, scheming bastard, more willing and able to set up unbreakable and unfavorable agreements then to leave behind bodies.

Originally a member of the Iron Islands, Brod grew disillusioned with the idea of the “iron price” and the worthlessness of acquired, not stolen, wealth. While his stout stature made him a capable sailor, he found the investment in raids too high for any form of return. He found friends who thought similarly, and some who just had gotten bored with the Greyjoy rule, and stole his captain’s ship four years before the Greyjoy Rebellion. While Brod had a thinking similar to the lions of the Westerlands, he didn’t stay long before deciding to go to King’s Landing.

Once there, he purchased a rundown warehouse and established Brod’s Ironshods. Some of his crew weren’t happy with the job of caring for animals, but found new hobbies in the distractions and drinks of the city.

Brod also never cared for the job, so he made plans to ensure he didn’t have to. He and his forces do the bare minimum to keep customers in the door, and make sure to tell those picking up their animals that complains won’t be appreciated. He’s used his muscle to ensure cheap supplies and to shut down similarly priced rivals. Brod likes to reach agreements with others, but will resort to more physical means if negotiations don’t favor him.

While some say Brod died inside his almost collapsing warehouse, he just hasn’t found enough reason to venture outside it in some time. The arrival of his thugs and a letter from Brod are often all that’s needed for a negotiation to complete favorably, and no one is brave enough to call him out on the reclusive tendencies. While he certainly has the means to trade up to other enterprises, Brod refuses to sell the warehouse, both for sentimental reasons or a fear of losing his place in King’s Landing. He’s unusually sedentary for a former Greyjoy, and despite having no loyalty to his former lord, will go through great lengths to protect his place and loyal men rather than plunder anew.

As stable stalls open up either due to malpractice or a lack of ignorant customers, Brod’s began to reach out to smuggling and other illicit means to keep a profit. The Ironmen of the Ironshods have found plenty of opportunities for havoc in Flea Bottom, and the unsatisfied members of Brod’s crew have long been replaced with more willing local help.

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