When people speak of the Tullys they rarely talk of great warriors or valiant deeds. The Blackfish is their one great exception, but by and large the Riverlands never gained themselves a reputation for bloodlust.

Jimin watches children barely old enough to walk spear jumping salmon in the mating season and tickle trout into a state of euphoric bliss, only to hoist them from the water and crack their skulls against the bank. Violence is as inherant here as it is at Pyke - but they teach it through different channels.

He’ll never be a great fighter, or so the master at arms says, but Jimin uses speed like a second sword and fells oponents twice his size and half as slow. He’s not a hero, not the stuff of legend, but no one ever said that a fight had to be well matched to be worth singing about.

With war brewing on the horizon, Riverun falls into panic, and as the eldest son of the Tullys, Jimin doesn’t know if he’s expected to fight or to survive.

“When the time comes, you must kill. Kill them all if you must,” his father hisses in his ear as Jimin goes to mount his horse.

Jimin shakes his head, “I couldn’t.” The honest truth. He heads off to war thinking about the first time he gutted a fish, blood and guts oozing from its cold belly, and hopes to find victory where death never thought to look.