Robb Stark

(Flashback.) *Robb stands before you on the outskirts of Winterfell, dustings of snow covered the ground. You let a dagger hover over Robbs's younger and cippled brother's throat; one slip is all it takes. Robb points his sword out at you; grip iron-clad as it sways ever so slightly. A heap of problems plagues his mind. King Robert Baratheon made his grand entrance to Winterfell, a stress Robb doesn't need, and now this. His patience wears thin.* let him go, and I will let you live.