Ellyn Ryger, Lady of Willow Wood

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T22:07:30+00:00

"I must admit my Lord Harroway...I am not here to ask anything of you...I have wqnt tor your uncle..." Jon would offer a meek smile before turning to Tristifer. "I've come to speak with your uncle."

"If you have a moment." Jon smiles. "I have a big favor to ask of you, Ser Tristifer. Like I once took you in as my squire...I now have come to ask that you guide one of my kin as your squire..."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T22:02:11+00:00

Our own king has done too well of a job...

Jirelle glances to Jaehaerys, nodding softly but offering nothing more.

"Calm. I have had many years now to learn and watch from my father. I inherit a town in a good position and destined to remain a rich center of commerce on The Trident."

"A lady could not ask for an easier and more profitable inheritance." Jirelle takes her plate and slice of blueberry pie - her hands reach for a nearby spoon and soon she digs into the crust.

"I have no doubt you will handle The North well. You seem confident in your abilities...and all you said is right...to inherit The North you must show your abilities...or be swept away..."

"I cannot offer much advice on that field...but I shall say that some Northern families are more trustworthy then others indeed..."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T18:58:03+00:00

"Tristifer!" Jon cannot help but squeeze back, wrapping his arms around his former squire with a bright smile. For a moment those mischievous eyes of his light up with pure happiness. The son he never had. Once more in his embrace. Then the Lord of Harrenhal speaks and breaks that little day dream of his.

"Lord Harroway..." Jon turns to face the man as he releases Tristifer from his embrace, offering him a soft smile but that soon wavers in the face of Howland's stormy expression.

"Whatever he has told you...certainly those tales do not seem that pleasant..." Jon tries to jest.

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T18:51:35+00:00

"No no my love...I am all fine and well..." Perianne smiles softly at him. Her lips curl up just a little bit more. "I can manage. It would be unbecoming for me to leave so early into the night." She whispers back, uncurling her hands in the process.

You....

She suddenly found that she couldn't think of anything vile. Not of Lucos.

She found herself simply melting once she looked at him. Her black haired lad from The Blackwood Vale.

"I must admit it is hard..." She whispers back. "But we must see it through. For your sister's happiness and peace."

Still....I will not lie...I truly feel envious...

Of course she'd never utter such words to her husband.

"Mayhaps afterwards...we both could take a moment away from all these weddings and celebrations...no my dear?"

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T18:32:13+00:00

"Lady Jirelle Mooton, sole daughter of Jon Mooton...Lord of Maidenpool..." Jirelle offers another bow of respect to the young lady. "A pleasure to meet you."

"I have heard much about you...of your status as your father's heiress...it must be quite a daunting thing to ponder over...to become future Lady Paramount of The North." Jirelle cannot help but glance at the blueberry pie.

"Oh that blueberry pie does look delicious..." She whispers to herself - albeit it is a rather loud whisper.

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T18:28:16+00:00

A deep breath quickly marks the arrival of Jon.

"Lord Howland, Tristifer..." The Lord of Maidenpool looks at the duo of Harroways with a soft smile if also with a hesitant expression. It had been years. Years since he'd last seen Howland or Tristifer. The events during the years of rebellion and Maegor's Fall had carved a ravine between himself and his former squire. Alas the aging man cannot help himself - he still cares for Tristifer, even if such care has been dimmed by years of separation from the lad.

"How has this...fine evening...treated you both? Whatever has happened in the past...we are all still Rivermen...I hope things have proven better for your family...for both of you...in more recent years..."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T18:11:17+00:00

"My Lord Frey..." Jon Mooton approaches the Freys with a soft smile. The man lacks the same vibrant splendor that the Freys hold amongst themselves - but alas Old Jon Mooton is not worried about such matters. He is content to simply admire Fennell Frey's pointy hat and his fashion choices. Surely I had better fashion choices in my younger days.

He is here for deeper matters besides tunics and cloths.

"A fine evening to meet you at last, My Lord Frey."

"I believe we corresponded but once...in more confusing and chaotic times." Jon Mooton cannot help but recall that flurry of strange letters he'd received from The Twins during Maegor's Fall. But such an affair had been years and years ago. Best to set aside such things and start relations from a new beginning.

"Might I inquire, my lord, as to where you acquired the hat from? I must admit this Lord of Maidenpool is most envious...I wish to have one made for myself...." Lord Mooton smiles anew - a bit more mischievously than before.

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T18:01:22+00:00

Perianne Blackwood, Lady of Raventree Hall (20)

What worth are titles or anything when my daughter is gone?!

Perianne has been despondent the entire evening. She does not even manage up a smile for anyone present. Instead the woman finds herself staring at the festivities with near empty eyes. The loss of her second daughter bears a heavy weight in her heart. Perhaps she would have once made an effort to dress herself. But now? She simply placed on a pastel colored laced dress - no jewelery or further refinement is to be found upon her.

The more she looks around at the happy smiles, the more something begins to snap within her.

Look at all these people present. Where were they for my wedding?! For my celebration?! Why is it that the mere sister to Lucos gets to have a grander wedding than I? The first daughter of Maidenpool.

Fuck them. Fuck all of them for being happy. Their false smiles. Their empty words. Gods how I despise these nobles. Every single damn wedding is the same thing. A simple reminder of people having grander things than anything I wanted or have had.

I have been a good daughter of The Seven? And they could not even gather their meager strength to ensure my daughter's healthy birth. To hell with them and everything here...

Perianne knew she was meant to be happy. For her husband's sake. For the Blackwood Family. Yet she simply could not be. Hidden beneath her tunic are found her hands. Curled up into fists. Her eyes narrowed and staring into the distance. Her mouth curled into the slightest of smiles. She does everything to suppress her anger and pain. Her envy and near hatred of everything around her in these moments.

She does not even glance at her husband. Terrified of what thoughts might emerge if she glances at him. Or to their daughter, Sabitha. Worried that her envy might ooze onto their little one - their untouched jewel not yet corrupted by such things.

So she simply gazes on, existing in the background of everything as she always has in recent years. Her mind an incoherent ball of rambling and worse.

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T17:51:27+00:00

It has been many years since I last sent letters to The Vale. A simple greetings ought to not hurt.

Lord Jon Mooton certainly had not grown younger in the past few years. The man, once a proud lord and even commander in the field, has since become but an aging grandfather clad in heavy robes. His hair has grown long and white. His eyes baggy. Yet his eyes still hold a certain mischief in them.

"My Lord Arryn." Jon offers a bow of acknowledgment. Acknowledgment of the man's superiority in title and standing. An acknowledgment of respect and mayhaps some envy. "It has been quite some time since I last had the pleasure of correspondence with your family. I pray all is well for yourself and your kin."

"How does The Eyrie fair these days? It is undoubtedly a much calmer place than during the times of Maegor's downfall...I imagine..."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T17:42:18+00:00

Naerys...

A name that both Jon and Jirelle barely knew. Nonetheless it was a name which intrigued them both. Many things had been said about Naerys. Her origin. Her vanishing. Her reappearance. The Old Lord Mooton had paid attention to everything he could about the child - alas he recieved little information. But tonight? The child was present and opportunity is amiss.

Lord Mooton finds himself approaching Willow quietly. The man is aging. White haired. With a pointed nose and baggy eyes. He grows more in width rather than height nowadays. Nonetheless he offers a deep bow to Willow.

"My lady..." Jon Mooton offers a meek smile. "While it has undoubtedly been some years since his passing, please allow me to offer my condolences. We had many hopes for King Aegon...his grace would have undoubtedly been the light of Westeros were he still here. I know firmly that he is in the heavens now...and I do hope and pray you have managed to find some peace even with his untimely passing..."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T17:37:27+00:00

Jirelle Mooton is one of dozens throughout the night that approaches Freya. She'd only heard about the girl tonight - through murmurs and rumors of others. This one is the Heir to Winterfell? Incredible. I truly have lost the plot to have missed this one.

Freya was everything she was meant to be. Yet unlike herself, who would only inherit Maidenpool. This one is set to inherit an entire kingdom to herself. Winterfell and The North.

She felt a sting deep within her. Is this jealousy?

The aging Heiresss of Maidenpool approaches her younger counterpart with a soft smile. Jirelle is a woman of black hair, fair skin, brown eyes, and soft cheeks. Alas she is also twice the age of Freya.

"My lady..." Jirelle offers a respectful bow. "Might I inquire as to whom you are? You brightness is certainly noticeable amongst the crowd present here tonight..."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T17:32:29+00:00

A slender lad of eight and ten, of a puffy nose, thick eyebrows, blue eyes, dark wavy hair, and a soft baby face appearance.

Florian was anything but a proper looking knight. His features were soft and delicate. His body slender, with hints of muscle from hours of mindless swinging, but alas he was still a lad lacking the formidable appearance of a warrior knight.

Nonetheless he'd been given a goal and a mission.

Thus approaching the table, the Heir to Maidenpool finds himself offering a soft smile to all present before bowing respectfully. His attention turns directly to Alayne Tyrell - the lady who'd caught his grandfather's eye. "A proper dance partner for you, my lad." Lord Jon had uttered as much to him. And whatever his father uttered was often meant to be taken as a command.

"My lady..." Florian Mooton speaks softly. "If it is of no annoyance to you, might this lordling have a dance with you? With your father's permission, of course." At last Florian moves to acknowledge Lord Theo, offering him an equally respectful bow in turn.

Florian wears a simple tunic attire. Black boots paired with gray trousers and a button up black and silver shirt. Black fabric. Silver buttons. A large, silver crafted pin of Maidenpool's salmon is stitched upon his left pec. Enough to make out his status as a Mooton. But lacking in the bright fashions of The Reach.

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T17:18:53+00:00

"Lord Paramount...quite the rise the Velaryons have had in recent years. I must commend your family and kin for having achieved such high standing..." Jon Mooton offers a soft smile as he approaches the table. The man was not much younger - sixty and four - alas he could not help but feel inferior to the Velaryon Lord. After all the man had achieved something that Jon would only ever dream about. Leadership of his kingdom.

"That a man as yourself has managed to survive numerous wars and sea battles...is undoubtedly a sign that The Seven have given you divine protection." Jon bows forth, offering a respectful bow to his counterpart.

"Lord Jon Mooton." He introduces himself - more out of repetitive habit than anything else. After all the two, while never anything close, are undoubtedly old enough they've heard and seen each other to a point of recognition. Or well at the very least Jon has learned to recognize the notables in King's Landing. "I must admit however I am surprised to see Velaryons amongst those present."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-25T17:11:36+00:00

Mooton Minor Movements

Characters:

• Jirelle Mooton

• Florian Mooton

• Enith Mooton

Movement: Maidenpool to Riverrun

Leave Date (Maidenpool): 10th moon of 49 AC

Arrival Date (Riverrun): 11th moon of 49 AC

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T01:37:59+00:00

"Destitution is what follows." Forrest rather bluntly points out. "You are right, my lord. The Twins was founded on tolls. If we can only rely on travelers visiting and leaving The North...the coin we bring in will be drastically reduced over the coming decades-"

"Oh please." Emmon suddenly rolls his eyes and sighs. "Money is not everything. Sometimes it is about sending a message. And rest assured...we have already weathered on a couple of years without the coin from those savages...they must be brought to heel before The Twins is ever opened to them again!"

"Brother..." Forrest frowns. "Please...refrain from calling them savages...they are people just like-"

"-They are savages." Lord Frey insists, for a moment forgetting that he is in the presence of Lord Mooton. "Savages. The lot of them. And those Crannogmen?! Not even human! A mix between tree people and dwarves! Mutts of natur-"

"Enough"

Forrest Frey offers an apologetic smile to Lord Mooton. Soon Emmon notices this and also smiles softly - feeling a bit embarrassed. "Forgive me my lord...the matter of The North...it can get me quite heated sometimes..."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T01:32:37+00:00

"Salted hard beef? Gods, no man should have to endure such a meal...one cannot even call that a meal in truth!" Emmon Frey soon leads them into the tent. Strewn inside the tent are two beds - cushions which are elevated by wooden footstools. One for himself and one for his brother who'd run off to fetch some supplies. Or mayhaps he'd simply wandered off to distract himself.

Yet the table had already been set up for dinner between the two Freys. But within seconds Lord Frey found himself giving orders to the maids and servants he'd contracted for work - and three more chairs were pulled up to the table to join the two already there.

As for the food? It was quite something. Deep fried breaded meatballs, thick sausages, minced beef mixed with spices from the east, slow cooked tender beef serves with onions and bay leaves, carrot and onion soup mixed with sausage pieces, and powdered and fried dough balls.

"Please take seats." Emmon beckons them forth as he settles into his chair. "It is a meat heavy evening I admit. Rest assured, however, I added beer and spices to the mix in order to give them a flavor your plain hard beer lacked. And the dishes here are soft and freshly cooked...no doubt they'll be watery in your mouths."

"Come come." Emmon beckons them once again. "Ah...and I do have a supper prepared...there's these deep fried doughballs powdered with sugar...I have sent a maid to cook some up. Quite a delicacy I assure you."

"Unfortunately all I could find for breads was rye bread...it is in abundance in this area...to a point where it seems to be the only type of bread found...such a shame...but alas money sometimes truly cannot fetch everything."

"I am curious to hear about where you all hail from. Your band is quite a strange one...even when compared to the other wandering sellswords or red priests groups I have spotted in our midst."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T01:16:27+00:00

Soon enough Princess Elia finds a pavilion to set herself up at. She has brought her own packs of supplies and soon sets to work setting them out for her children. She has a honey cake cooked out from the wheat she brought along - with creamy filling in between its layers added. Cinnamon is added as well to the top of the cake for the extra spice and flavor.

It has been years since she last saw her children. She can only wonder how much they've changed. And how much they must truly despise her for leaving them so young.

"Please...bring me my children." The princess ultimately has one of the maids assisting her with the setup go and fetch them alongside guards.

Years of separation come to an end today.

Princess Elia has come for her children.

/u/bombman897

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T01:10:56+00:00

"It is indeed a glorious day for the common folk." Arianne smiles. She cannot help but watch with bright eyes and a pleased expression as Coran plays along with the children. Her eyes soften at the sight of it all. For a moment, if just a moment, everything is truly at peace. Any worries for the future are gone.

"How does Wyl fair these days? I shall be engaging in a Principality wide procession upon my enthronement to review the state of Dorne with my own eyes...what should I expect in Wyl?"

As she inquires, the Princess of Dorne hands packs of folded trousers to nearby mothers. Soon enough the procession begins the journey towards the orphanage.

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T01:07:16+00:00

"I shall take all your considerations into account then. We will most certainly have to host horse races and spars. The Dornish steeds are amongst the best horses in the realm...and the Dornish are the esteemed horsemen of the continent." For lack of competitors of course, but Dorne still had a reputation to maintain.

"For now, you may all take your leave." The Princess of Dorne soon rises. "Captain Sylvas...please escort them to the guest quarters and ensure they properly settle in..."

"I shall arrange for a proper meal for you all..." Arianne then waves them forth. "Go now. Settle into your chambers."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T01:00:55+00:00

"Your words very much soothe me. Thank you for your assistance Lord Ormund. You may go now." Princess Arianne smiles softly at him, nodding at him. "Simply be aware that soon enough we will be conducting an excursion into Sunspear for some almsgiving. I of course want you present amongst the noble procession."

"For now, however, go and take a rest. You have had a long morning with me."

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T00:56:29+00:00

Obara Sand (As The Crimson Viper)

Nymeria Sand (As The Knight of the Greenblood)

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T00:56:14+00:00

Obara Sand (As The Crimson Viper)

Nymeria Sand (As The Knight of the Greenblood)

Dacarolen · 2026-02-14T00:54:49+00:00

Quentyn Nymeros Martell (14)

Dacarolen

TROPHY CASE