[GHOSTSUNSHADOW] Jacoby Arn Blacktyde

Name:
Jacoby Arn Blacktyde

Nickname:
• Little Brother (by family)
• Tiny Jack (by Night’s Herald Crew)
• The Great White Terror (by the Bards)
• The Blacktyde Behemoth (by outsiders)

Age:
17

Gender:
Male

Species:
Shapeshifter (Skinchanger)

Allegiance to House:
House Greyjoy (allegiance)
House Blacktyde (Birth)

Role to House:
Boatswain on the Night’s Herald

Personality:
The youngest son of House Blacktyde is a remarkable though simple individual whose appearance doesn’t do his personality much justice; during his Drowning as an infant the deprivation of oxygen debilitated the development of his mind leaving him psychologically stuck within the infantile state. While the body grew to massive proportions, the boyish intellect remained to the great shame and displeasure of his father who soon began seeing his youngest as the blemish on the family crest. This way of being viewed by his father leaves Jacoby to overcompensate for the lack of brains with actions, making him always the first to raise his hands when volunteers for a mission were asked and the last to retreat to the ship. Hungry for acceptance there are times he’s absolutely blind to the harm inflicted upon himself by behaving this way making his need to be accepted by a father who’d already forsaken this child lead him into dangerous and often unnecessary life threatening situations not only to himself but to others. In a way it’s the recklessness of a child that dominates Jacoby’s everyday life…

Even for the simplest of tasks Jacoby is dependent on people to give him instructions for that click towards taking initiative has yet to occur in the youngest of Blacktyde’s; he demands a helpful and supportive push in the back regarding the simplest of tasks yet the people whom are listened to are limited to only a scarce few, in particular his older siblings. Towards Morgana he shows blind obedience, never once having complain when a task was given and this leaves Jacoby vulnerable to being exploited by his own family; his older brother Killigan is aware of this fact and has been notorious for becoming the whisperer of bad deeds in Jacoby’s deeds who due to his limited mental maturity knows not better but to do what’s asked of him. This leads towards childish frustrations often building up inside the now daunting lad which combined with an immature mind may have disastrous consequences; anger tantrums are frequent yet where most individuals would limit themselves to the throwing of object, Jacoby’s massive physique leads to often fatal conflicts where the distinction between friend and foe is no longer made. This particular trait was what gave reason to his brothers’ dismissal of allowing him upon their ships afraid that Little Jack might go berserk when self control slips beyond his grasp. His father even went as far as locking Jacoby away in the dungeons, chained and restrained like an animal afraid of these moments of blind rage though it was his sister Morgana who learnt the secret to controlling her Little Brother, even using that brutish force to her advantage…

Jacoby is dreadfully insecure which leaves him to constantly require permission and confirmation regarding the plainest of matters. He needs reassurance and the so-called pet on the heads to keep his temper at bay for at the briefest moment of doubt, the bottled up anger can explode resulting in a mess far greater than lighting a pipe by barrels of wildfire. Focus is also something he lacks in life for the slightest distraction will draw away his attention from the matters at hand; there has been even an occasion where a sparkling gemstone was all it took for Jacoby to walk away from the battlefield, leaving his brother’s crew unprotected in the rear. Still Little Jack as the crew of the Night Herald has ironically called him is perhaps the most worry free and cheerful of individuals to find onboard a longboat of the Iron Fleet as even the most trivial of chores can be turned in an exciting game for him. Everything that gets portrait as a game will automatically get his attention and that’s where Morgana’s control over him comes from; she’ll tell him enemy soldiers want to play a game with him where he’s the colossus and they’re the villages that want to kill him and just like that he’ll storm against vast outnumbering ranks towards the enemy front killing and maiming with a cheerful childlike chuckle following him around; swabbing the deck or mustering the sails of the Night Herald has been turned into a fun challenge for him to excel at but Jacoby’s most preferred game though is ‘Ahoy Matey’ where he hops onboard an enemy ship, break the mast in half and then calls out ‘Ahoy Matey’ to signal his sister’s crew to heist the vessel…

Physical Description:
The nickname Little Jack is a fact most ironically for Jacoby Blacktyde is the tallest man in the history of the Iron Islands; standing a massive 7ft 8 inches above the ground he’s a true behemoth with limbs like solid tree trunks and a chest broad enough to block the double doors of a keep on his own. Hands like the oars used onboard the Night Herald allow him to punch through the average shield with the greatest ease while few materials in Westeros can withstand the continuous kicks of his giant feet. The Blacktyde blacksmith cursed loudly when the order for Jacoby’s armor came in for it took four times the amount of steel to cast only the breastplate that fitted his colossal frame. Everything about Little Jack is best described as enormous from his diameters of his almost superhuman strong limbs to the mere size that leaves him towering out above the men on the Night’s Herald. Everywhere beneath his Caucasian skin does one find the raw might of his muscle definitions, sometimes as thick as the ropes needed to tie down the largest flagship in the Iron Fleet; when actually physically exerting himself one can see magnificent fortitude of his body for there’s yet to be an exercise too heavy for him to perform as with the greatest ease Jacoby lifts the 300 pound heavy stockless anchor of Morgana’s ship without even breaking a sweat…

The characteristics of the Blacktyde family are less pronounced in Jacoby’s person yet the similarities between him and all his siblings cannot be denied; the strong facial bone structure the Blacktyde family is known for grant him that chiseled expression with a powerful jaw line and the visible cheekbones. His eyes are Morgana’s eyes for just like his sister the perception of their color depend on the weather conditions around him; when storms and heavy weather are upon them his eyes appear to be a mere dull grey though when the sun shines brightly over the salted shores of Blacktyde they may hold the appearance of the green-blue hues of the sea in the sunlight. His hair cut short to emphasize his daunting size is the perfect blend between mother’s golden curls and their father’s ebony black facial hair. Unlike most men in the Iron Islands Jacoby insists on shaving his beard everyday leaving only a faded stubble to stand upon his expression and because of this he’ll appears more youthful than he truly is. The dark brow that makes Morgana’s eyes pop out, grant Little Jack a charismatic gaze that would make one define him as handsome until met with his simple minded personality…

Family Relations:
House Blacktyde is one of the oldest and most trusted of Greyjoy bannermen in the Iron Islands though the members of this family don’t all feel the same towards the youngest of their name. Everyone in their House has their own idea and relation with Little Jack; some of friendship, others of rivalry the feelings towards the giant are divided in two camps that now reside within their House. Two camps, one led by Lord Baelor who only felt shame for his halfwit son, the other sided with their mother who could see past his simple mind to find a true Blacktyde in the boy…

Benjamen Blacktyde, oldest son of Lord Baelor Blacktyde and heir to the House had a fairly harmless relation with his youngest brother; they’ve spent few days together as there were already too many years between them to share much common interests. When Jacoby was barely able to walk, Benjamen was already leading raids along the Ironman’s Bay so the oldest and the youngest seldom were in the keep at the same time; the most they ever saw eachother were those spare minutes on the docks when Little Jack waves his brother off before the ships set sail for their next adventure…

Killigan is the strongest ally in the camp of Lord Baelor for since the day Jacoby was born, he’d felt this wretched resentment for the lad; he hated the mere fact that his inheritance had to be divided yet another time. Every opportunity he’d get, Killigan would pick on Little Jack, calling him names and knocking him down for being a half-wit and a simpleton. The physical conflict didn’t last long for Jacoby quickly grew taller and stronger than his older brother though even to this day the humiliation continues relentlessly…

Hawke Blacktyde shared his mother’s affection for his younger brother, finding his youthful spirit a welcomed change of scenery; he’d often free Little Jack from the dungeon taking him on a tiny adventure at the cliffs of Blacktyde where they’d cast rocks into the black waters below. They shared laughs and woes there and for that the day the news came of Hawke drowning during a mighty storm was the worst day in Jacoby’s life. He’d sometimes go to the cliffs again to remember his fallen brother and throw a rock in those black waves…

The strongest tie however is reserved for his sister Morgana who’s always been the protective wing warding him from harm. In a way she’d taken their mother’s place for in her words he could find comfort, feeling his temper soothed whenever she’s around. Not always does she have the best interest for her brother in mind but then again of all Blacktyde’s she’s the one who’s always there for her brother; she was the one who offered him a spot on her crew, came to the dungeons for his bedtime stories. Morgana even taught her brother how to wield a sword, a task that had proven impossible to anyone else in Blacktyde…

Powers and Abilities:

On the unfortunate day of Jacoby’s Drowning his mother’s pleas were heard by the Drowned God for the spirit of the Great White became his savior (more info see background story). Now blessed with the strength of this predator of the waters, Jacoby’s irrational fear for water is born from constantly seeing himself as a shark in those waters for the second Little Jack indeed gets fully submerged, the transformation takes place. Taking the physical form of a Great White Jacoby becomes the apex hunter of the Iron Seas that with his 23 feet in length and nearly 5500lbs can devour a man whole and even break through the steel plated hulls of longboats. Only Morgana knows of this ability and in many occasions she’d been known for pushing her brother overboard the Night’s Herald simply to gain the alliance of the White Terror against her enemies. In this form Jacoby becomes a ferocious monster of the salted waters where he preys on the unfortunate to go overboard and when the souls refuse to turn to the waters, the Great White simply sinks their ships with vicious attacks that bite through the toughest of hulls. The change though doesn’t last long allowing Jacoby only to take this form for a couple of hours to savor its appetite; afterwards Morgana is left to fish her brother out of the water before he drowns for Little Jack is absolute terrified of water…

Strengths:
The people who say ignorance is bliss don’t know the half of it for being a half-wit is by far Jacoby’s greatest strength in life; by being simple minded and off childlike intellect the inhibitions of maturity have yet to root in his person. This permits him to act without considering the ‘What if’ scenario that debilitated adults in life; he makes impulsive decisions based on instinct rather than rational thinking and this permits him to act without fear or second guessing. Everything in life is a game for him and when something is presented to him as an opportunity to play, he’ll do even the most trivial or heinous of acts with a bright smile on his expression; even killing, pillaging and looting has been turned in a fascinating and exciting game for him permitting him to act without remorse, regret or mercy when he gets his hands dirty. In a way if you can sell it to him as something exciting and fun to do, there’s no task Jacoby can’t and won’t do especially if Morgana asked it…

When it comes to physical strength there’s yet to be a man born on the Iron Islands who can hope to match Jacoby’s brutish force; as a young kid throwing anger tantrums he’d often punched through the oak doors in his father’s keep, splintering the woods as if it was but dried timber beneath a sledgehammer; when he got older, his arms got thicker and stronger making him breaking trees in half by a bear hug of him or bend the steel bars of a prison cell like they’re but straws in the wind. With a man of his size and power it’s no surprise Morgana uses him often as a human battering ram able of breaking down gates beneath the buckling force of his shoulder while on other occasions simply serving as a psychological advantage ‘cause face it, to stand before a man nearly two feet taller than the average man is a frightening challenge to face. When placed in the part of a berserk warrior many brave warriors have been known to run in retreat simply to avoid the mighty behemoth of Blacktyde while those who bravely stand their ground will be trampled…

Weaknesses:
In the end one can’t forget that Jacoby is basically a retarded child trapped in a giant’s body for even to this day he’s still that same scared fellow that fears the water. He speaks in short sentences sometimes incoherent and incomprehensible for outsiders though the crew onboard the Night’s Herald and close family do know what’s meant with his mumbling. After several attempts to teach him how to read or write, the Maesters simply gave up, leaving Jacoby illiterate and uneducated which doesn’t aid in his attempts not to appear stupid. Like a child he’s in constant need of supervision and instructions to avoid things getting out of hand like they’ve done in the past; sometimes in his excitement he gets hands-on and physical with often grave injuries as the result. There have been days where his ‘games’ ended up breaking bones and even killing people so for those untrained in how to handle Little Jack, being his friend may be more dangerous than being his enemy…

Weapons of Choice:
It took more than ten years before someone managed to teach him how to hold a sword and in the end it was Morgana who trained Little Jack in the way of the sword. Considering his monstrous size and strength, Morgana had the blacksmith make a special sword for Jacoby that she offered him the day he joined the crew of the Night’s Herald. Hammerfall is the name of this massive claymore greatsword that reaches a daunting 62 inches in length weighing close to seven pounds made entirely out of a unique blend of lead and steel. Most couldn’t even lift such a sword but Jacoby can split an ox in half with a single swing…

Armor of Choice:
Due to his daunting size the mere financial burden of funding a full suit of armor for Jacoby is a challenge but finding a blacksmith able to make such a large breastplate may even be impossible. For that reason Little Jack usually goes clad in a thick chainmail vest fastened around his broad frame while studded leather vambraces and legguards protect his vital joints. Still as the son of House Blacktyde, it had been necessary for him to be fitted into an actual suit of armor; his late brother Hawke was the one to invest every dime he’d ever looted into the biggest set of steel plating to ever be forged for a person. Pauldrons almost an inch thick get fastened on a steel gorget though the asymmetry of the design is most peculiar. The right dominant shoulder is only protected by three layers of the steel molded plates whereas on his left pauldron an additional faceguard shield was welded to the protective gear. As tradition goes in the Iron Islands the steel is left pure and undecorated with unnecessary flourishes leaving it simply polished to a silver reflective shine…

Background History:

To my beloved daughter Morgana,
Like your father I’ve always struggled to find the right words to say to my children, always struggled to share my thoughts and believes with your father for as a woman in the Iron Islands I was never permitted to go against tradition. For you my precious daughter I wish a faith different from my own, a destiny far greater than to merely become the bride to a lord or the wife to some brave captain who simply see you as the vessel for their heirs. I wish that for all my children; for Benjamen I wish him to be the strongest and bravest Lord of Blacktyde; for Killigan I wish him to become the fierce yet honorable captain of our family’s fleet; for Hawke I wished he’d not been called to the Drowned God so early. For you I wish all dreams to come true, that you may be the first daughter of the Iron Islands who’ll forever prove men we’re equals though it’s for my last child that I’ve dedicated this letter to you. I know your father told you that Jacoby Blacktyde suffered the same faith as Hawke but know this was a lie as there are plenty more etched forever in the history of our House. It was a lie that the youngest of my child died in the salted waters of the Drowning; it was a lie that the boy was too weak to endure the test of the Drowned God; it was all a lie your father spun to save his House the embarrassment of having admit to the reality of things though even your father could not bring himself to kill one of his own flesh and blood. What I’m to tell you is the true faith of what occurred on that day we’ve mourned for I believe you have the right to know…

On the island of Blacktyde generations of members of our family have reigned with iron fist and sharp sword to keep those in line that walk upon our salted shores; our fleet has lent the Iron King countless victories against their enemies for we strike swift and vicious without a moment of remorse. Blacktyde sons have always captained the toughest of the ships with sails raised and banner proudly raised in the wind and so it will be till the end of our days. Your father blessed me with four sons and a daughter each with a destiny already scripted before their first breath in this world was taken. Benjamen is to one day take his father’s place and Killigan will lead our raiders for those are the Iron Ways. Hawke was to captain the patrolling ship that guards our Island before the Drowned God needed a strong oarsman and took my third child into the fathomless depths of the Iron Islands. Then you came and misfortune had it you were a daughter for women in our world have little glorious prospects until I saw you growing up; you were fierce and strong a lot like your father no matter how much you hate to hear that. You fought against our rusted old ways and defied the course folks had set out for you; the Night’s Herald was your first price and many more are still to come and for that it’s why I reach out to you. The last of you children before I grew barren was special at birth; even the Drowned Man knew he was special for the day he was born, it was said of all Blacktyde’s Jacoby would be the strongest and greatest and that prediction always haunted your father like a daunting ghost…

Your father would never admit this; never would he brave to utter those words but every time he looked at young Jacoby he begun to see what the Drowned Man had predicted; he saw the little boy grow twice the size of his peers, trice as strong and soon even the mighty Lord Baelor Blacktyde wouldn’t be able to best his youngest son. Fear set foot in his heart and from fear came desperation; from desperation came an unspeakable act for which there is no forgiveness. “Old Gods or New, it makes no matter, No man is so accursed as the Kinslayer” goes the saying though on that dreadful day your father attempted the unthinkable. On Jacoby’s Drowning a deal was struck with that wretched uncle of yours Beron Blacktyde to drown your brother until the last of breaths had been casted in the cold waters of our bay. You weren’t there to witness, nor were my other children and for that I am grateful for no child has to see the light of madness in a parent’s eyes but on that day I saw it. Jacoby had wadded into the shallow end of the bay where all Blacktyde’s went through that sacred rite of the Drowning and without a glimpse of fear in those dark eyes he paused before the blind priest. Your father took my hand – the first time he’d ever shown some affection towards me in public – as Jacoby kneeled before the priest and endured the Drowning he was never meant to survive. Be brave, they’d told him; Be brave and don’t struggle, simply let the salted waters fill you, the man whispered though the wind carried his message to my ears a moment too late. Jacoby was dunked in the water, his head held under minutes after the last of bubbles had risen to the surface; but your brother never struggled. I ran towards him but came too late for when my knife cut found the priest’s eye and Jacoby rose to the surface again with his little cheeks all blue and his heart no longer felt thumping inside his head…

I knew by the way your father acted he had something to do with that heinous act from the priest; not once did he shed a tear for the child promised to bring greatness to our House; not once did he come to visit me when I mourned for a week at your brother’s bedside keeping him in my arms while the last of ears was about to be shed. I sat in Jacoby’s bed, holding my little boy in my arms, cradling and cuddling with his cold stiff little body but lo light remained in his eyes. Every breath I had to spend I prayed to the Drowned God to spare my boy but when those prayers weren’t heard I turned towards other faiths. I prayed to the Seven, R’Hllor, the Many-Faced God and in a moment most desperate I reached out towards the Storm God. I can still remember the words I spoke that day. “I’ve already sent away one of my sons upon the salted waves of our shores, do not take another from me. Little Jack was to be the greatest and strongest, like the Great Whites in our bay. I beg off you Storm God for you’re the last I’ve turned to, spare my Little Jack so that he yet may become what the prophecy deemed him to become…” And on that moment my last bitter tear of sorrow tumbled down, like the cold rains that bath our lands and fell upon your brother’s forehead. The sound of that one drop falling on him was followed by the rage of a million blows of thunder outside and storms that continued for two days but in the cold light of that storm my prayers were heard for those eyes opened again to see the world…

I had turned towards your father to speak of the miracle that happened yet he wouldn’t hear of it; he wouldn’t hear his son had returned from the Drowned God’s eternal longship. For him Jacoby Blacktyde had drowned on that day, his spirit washed away in the Iron waves though another attempt to kill his own son did he not brave to plot. Instead he told all my children of Jacoby’s passing, lied so they wouldn’t endure the shame of knowing that the boy who’d returned from the Drowned God had returned only with half a mind. Half-wit, retard, the names for what your younger brother now is are aplenty yet where his mind lacked his body greatly compensated. By the time he’d seen his seventh winter he was as tall as your father, with arms strong enough to bend a steel sword; when he turned ten he’d stood a head taller than the greatest of Blacktyde’s in history and his strength could not be bridled by common means. Your father feared Little Jack, feared that the boy would ever find out what had been done to him though I beg of you to never let him know who was to blame. The salt has tainted your brother’s mind, in body a giant but in the head still that young boy led to the bay where he was Drowned. The dungeons became his home with chains to hold his temper at bay but even our toughest steel could hold Little Jack; every week he’d find a new way to break out, sometimes breaking through solid walls to see his father but Little Jack could not be seen in court. The nobles would mock our family for being forth a half-wit with the Blacktyde name, the soldiers would never follow him in battle and for that your father resented your brother. Can you still remember that earthquake that shook the entire castle? How the walls trembled and the windows shattered though your father pretended it was nothing? Your brother had broken out from the dungeons again, in his excitement to see your father eighteen of our finest soldiers were killed…

It’s been years now that I’ve kept this secret from you, every week I walk down those steps towards the dungeons and read your brother stories that sooth him; every week he doesn’t break out, I promised him a story about the Drowned God and the many heroes our House has brought forth. I’d sit by the steel door of his room and tell him about his brother and about you; those are the stories he likes most, the stories about his big sister Morgana, brave lady of Blacktyde and captain of the Night’s Herald. He asked about you every week, about your ship and your crew almost as if he wanted to be part of it. Every week he wants to know more so I make up stories, make up games for him to play in those scarce hours we spend together; I’ve taught him how to fight to the best of my abilities but I can’t match his enormous strength. He can break through a stone pillar with a single punch and Little Jack lifts the old steel anchor in the dungeons all by himself. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be satisfied with the stories, how much longer he’ll settle to hear all about his brave sister Morgana who’ll one day raid the villages of Westeros and brings the name Blacktyde to the tongues of every man, woman and child in the continents. I fear that the day I don’t come to read his stories, Jacoby will break out again but this time not to see his father; I believe he’d come looking for you and when he does I must ask of you Morgana to greet him with open arms. The day I die, it’s up to you to look after Little Jack and prevent your father from attempting to kill him again; you must teach him what it means to be a Blacktyde, teach him our ways, teach him how to fight so that the prophecy may still come true. “He’ll be the strongest and greatest of all Blacktyde’s!” I know the task I ask off you isn’t a simple one, nor will the days be when Little Jack needs to be taught the Iron Ways but keep in mind that beneath the giant physique is still a little boy wanting to play…

My Love and Hopes are Always with You

Lady Blacktyde

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