Character Details
Ray Stevenson
Ray Stevenson as Raibert Mormont
Name: Raibert Mormont
Aliases: {$nicknames}
Faction: The North
Organization: House Mormont
Occupation: Knight
Rank: Minor Noble Lord
Age: Oct 13 87 (34)


Standing tall at just over six feet in height, his shoulders broad and his form heroic, Raibert if well muscled, handsome and powerful. A bruiser rather than a dancer and a claymore rather than a dagger, he carries himself with the confidence of someone fully aware of themselves and their abilities.
Facially, as said, he is handsome, though his features are a touch heavy and a little weather worn, craggy, perhaps, but that is for the bards to decide. He wears his hair and beard longer than is perhaps the norm for the courtly fashion in the south, his beard a riot of curls and his hair following suit at the tips of its length, more than willing to become ringlets at a moments notice. Both hair and beard are black as night, aside from rogue grey hairs that plot and scheme takeover in the near future. His eyes are hazel, deep and expressive and his smile is no less than wolfish. Not bad looking given his age, at least three and a half decades born.
As to clothing, he has two broad 'looks' as it were;
The first, his wargear. A simple hauberk worn over an aketon and heavy leather, with perhaps a shoulder-plate and greaves, it is battered and campaign-scarred, the man looking little better than a peasant. Especially given the fact it has been rolled in soot and sand, the shine of the steel a dull black. In fact, the only things that mark him as perhaps better than a sell-sword are his helm (a full helm shaped something like a bears head, equally black and battered) and a dark bottle green tabard bearing his house sigil (and half the time he 'forgets' to wear that!)
The second, his courtly clothes. These have more variety, but a few common features; Firstly, He really loves that deep bottle green. Secondly, He much prefers comfort over style. Thirdly, Even his most up to date and court proper kit is at least two seasons behind the curve. Finally, there is nearly always something that identifies his house somewhere upon his person, even if it is merely a brooch or a signet ring.


Born to one of the leastmost Mormont lines, Raibert at least had the good grace to be trueborn, though rumours and whispers indicate it might have been a close run thing. Still, can't ask for much when you're only the first son of a thirdborn, little better than a peasant, really. The Heir to a ramshackle tower on the far coast of Bear Island, becoming more ramshackle as the stone was gradually removed to be used elsewhere.
Thats not to say his upbringing was bad by any means, his mother (a minor Karstark in her own right) was loving and his father largely absent, serving the Mormonts Proper. They lived well enough, though far closer to well off commonfolk than your average lord or lady, but there was always a fattened pig at the turn of the year and smallfolk playmates, so he was happy. Perhaps a little too happy, as he turned into his teens, getting no less than three of those playmates with child. In short order it was decided that his father should take him to see the Lord (and get him away from any other girls).
Now, Raibert took to court life well, catching up on his somewhat slack education in the ways of a knight, playing all the little games you would expect and taking part in such contests as was available to his low birth. (Though, it could be said he retained his eye for the ladies, but that would be base gossip!) Somewhere along the line he even picked up a knack for poetry. It was all going great until his father got himself stuck with a Wildling spear…
Driven by necessity (for he had to suddenly earn his keep, literally), Raibert threw himself headlong into soldiering for the Mormonts. He comported himself well, earning some little glory here and there and even turning the wildlings stealthier tactics against them, taking a leaf from the Greyjoy's book on sea-reaving and hammering a cadre of smallfolk into a particularly vicious and surprisingly effective crew. That being said, the fact that he drinks like a fish and can't seem to keep himself in his trews has meant that he hasn't really been able to raise his cache above that of a particularly useful soldier, but ah well, hes still got a good few years of use ahead of him, and hes always up for travel.

RP Hooks

  • Ladies man- If you happen to be even faintly attractive and in the North then hes probably drunkenly hit on you.
  • Northman- Hes a Mormont, through and through.
  • Barely Better than Smallfolk- He gets along with them too well. Hit him up.
  • Dread Pirate- At least if you're a wildling. Hes responsible for a series of hit and run sea raids on the Wildlings, though rather more viking-y than piratical. If you want to be one of his crew (smallfolk, largely) page me!
  • Sneaky Bastard- Reports of him using wildling-style stealthy sneaky tactics on the Ironborn similarly are less common or storied, but not unheard of.


  • Wealth: Hard Times
  • Good Vision in Dark
  • Poor Cousin
  • Drinks Like a Fish
  • An Eye For The Ladies
  • Favoured of the Smallfolk

The Crew of the Dubhar (NPCs, though feel free to App them)

These are the crew of his little navy/warband, bastards both figuratively and literally almost to a man, expect them to grow in number. Most of them are Smallfolk, but theres a few petty Knights in the mix.

  • Raibert 'Otter' Snow- A gangly youth with black hair that swims like said animal. Other implications of his name unconfirmed.
  • Auld Alec- The crews sawbones and herbalist and sometimes cook. A well-lived man of 52ish.
  • Pretty Mairgaret- Auld Alec's daughter, she used to be /very/ pretty, but is now a lean and scarred woman who is very handy with a knife and her croaking voice.
  • More to come.

IC Events

Raibert Logs

Related Logs

Logs featuring Raibert.

Logs that refer to Raibert.



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