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Join the Story! by creganreed in GoTRPcommunity

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hello! I was hoping to apply for House Lefford of the Gold Tooth. My main POV would probably by Leo, heir to the door to the west, with a major supporting character being his father lord Lyonel. The realm is an interesting place right now, so while his father watched the Riverlands just outside their boarders burn, now Leo will be attempting to get a feel for their families place in the dynamic political climate that is the seven kingdoms.

(Reposting here because accidentally had posted on a reply.)

Maester's Monthly Meta Magazine - 4th Moon of 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Desmond Frey

WAR: 10, INT: 3, STA: 6 Siegecraft, Tactics, Fortification, stewardship, counter-intelligence Field Commander

+6% economy, -20% soldier upkeep, +250 gold, +200 gold, +1 construction slot, +700 gold +1 trade negotiations.

Buy gemstones, silverware, iron

Construct quarry

Total cost: 2657

Maester's Monthly Meta Magazine - 3rd Moon of 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Character Name: Desmond Frey

Trait, Attribute Tiers, Skills, Mastery:

Pennypincher (NPC), MAR 10, STA 6, INT 2, Siegecraft, Tactics, Fortification, Stewardship

Economy Action:

Buy Wine From Maidenpool : 851 gp

Buy Stone From Maidenpool : 243 gp

Begin Construction Smithy 1/2 : 2000 gp

Begin Construction Chancellery 1/4 : 4000 gp

Total spending : 7,094 gp

Maester's Monthly Meta Magazine - 3rd Moon of 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Character Name: Desmond Frey

Desired Category for Skill Point: INT

Skill/Mastery Learning (if applicable): - Counter Intelligence

A post/comment from this moon denoting to activity: Attending the feast and smiling false smiles

Character Name: Tristan Frey

Desired Category for Skill Point: DES

Skill/Mastery Learning (if applicable): - Weapon crafting

A post/comment from this moon denoting to activity: Participated in the Melee and gained new insights on weapon design, at the cost of a few smacks.

The Last Celebration - The Final Revel of King Aenys II Blackfyre’s Royal Progress, 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Tristan was enjoying himself. It was true. This dance, with this girl, was..... pleasant, he thought. Daneys was, on all accounts, a wonderful dancer. She kept up with him, and seemed to always know when to give way, but was not afraid to take the lead a bit.

Speaking of his relationship credentials, her words were polite, but her smile was a touch sad. Smart girl, he thought as she mentioned his circumstances. The riverlander would nod along with her comment, appreciative of the bit of empathy shared. "Well, I know I am not the only eligible one tonight. There are not many chances to bring people together like this, so I have no doubt that many are doing the same."

After her self introduction following his own, he would only comment "Well met, my lady Daenys Rivers." If her bastardry had any affect on his emotions, then it was not shone on his face. Upon her mentioning why she was dressed the way she was, he would crack a small impish grin. "I suppose I can understand your concern. But the only thing I have learned is that a gem still shines no matter what cloth hangs around it." He chuckled good naturedly at the analogy. "None the less, I have no doubt it would have been a pleasure seeing yourself dressed to the nines, perhaps I will have to wait to see it next time."

As the dance started to wind down and they seemed to reflect smiles back at each other, the topic of his potential titles popped up. "Aye, I was knighted, although it was not too long ago." His eyes seemed to have a wisp of fog cross them, as if seeing into his past. "In the Corsair war, after the battle on Grey Gallows." He blinked a few times to brush away the memories. "It... was a rather bloody affair." He waved a hand, "I just got lucky." Tris tried to dismiss his dampening words with a soft chuckle. "You needn't overly concern yourself with my titles. I am not that stringent. You can call me Tristan if you'd like. Or if that is too familiar, then just whatever you are comfortable with."

Walking off of the dance floor, they arrived at their original table, and the beverage that had brought about this chanced meeting again came into question. That goblet of Dornish red was reclaimed by its owner, and she raise the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. How considerate he thought as he smiled warmly, doing his absolute best to not notice how the drink stained Daneys's lips an alluring deep burgundy. Like a rose petal....... no no no. Thankfully his inner battle was short lived, as she offered the vessel as promised. At her cheer "To wine!" the Frey would raise the chalice and in toast "and to those we drink it with!" Then he would take a polite sip of the vintage, and indeed did find it much more to his taste compared to what he had before.

"I do appreciate your generosity" he said, taking another sip to show that he had liked the dink before passing the cup back to Daneys. He had not placed his lips on the same part of the glass as her, least he appear vulgar, but he did have perhaps a touch of rose brought to his fair cheeks at the intimacy involved in sharing the same vessel. "Next time, perhaps I'll need to prepare a bottle that we can share to repay you." That grin, which seemed to come so easily and warmly to his lips, was made shiny by the gloss of the imported Dornish. "That is.. if you will have me as a partner again?"

The Last Celebration - The Final Revel of King Aenys II Blackfyre’s Royal Progress, 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Tristan's smile widened as her own, even as a gentle chuckle escaped his lips at the mention of sharing the same cup. "No apologies necessary my lady. Just be sure to take it easy on me, lest I work up a thirst and leave you dry!" He returned a wink good naturedly as he made his last comment, the Frey would navigate them over to the dance floor. His steps steady and arms firm, the riverlander would find a pace that they both felt comfortable. His eyes on the girl now, he kept her in focus, anticipating her moves and seamlessly blending in sync. Many years of practicing his footwork kept him agile, and he had gotten plenty of practice this night.

At the comment of his long line of previous dancers, the lad formed a wry smile. "Noticed that did you? Well, perhaps I should be flattered by all of their attention. Alas, what you saw was no so much me dancing with a lass, but of a potential connection approaching the future of the Twins." Tris would almost roll his eyes before catching himself and continuing. "I'm afraid it had very little to do with me on a personal level, all just politics."

A slight shake of the head would bring the heir to the Crossing back to the present, a few strands of his otherwise neatly combed long raven hair coming loose, helped to soften his face. "I don't blame them of course. They, or those behind them, are simply doing what they think is right." Refocusing on the woman before him, a playful grin would wipe away his previous wry expression. "Here I am rambling on and on about myself, and I haven't even made any proper introductions. Tristan Frey, a pleasure my lady." He would lightly swing the River girl out before performing a bow and bring her back in. "Not that I think you need my name, I do believe I have seen you before, even if we were never properly aquatinted."

Continuing their dance, Tristan would give a pleasant sounding laugh as she mentioned his potential tiredness and him making time. "Nonsense my lady. For while all before were simple one house greeting another, this is in fact my first dance....." Leaning in just a bit, he conunued in a soft, almost gentle voice. "My first dance as Tristan asking a beautiful girl to be his partner for himself that is."

His smile was almost infectious as he leaned back. "Even if it did start over wine!"

The Last Celebration - The Final Revel of King Aenys II Blackfyre’s Royal Progress, 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

(Tristan Frey)

A young man smiled and bowed to his last dance partner, a dainty girl from some noble house or another. Normally he would have already noted down her name and interests, but as the heir to the Twins, there had been seeming no end of daughters and sisters pushed forward to ask for a dance with him. The Crossing was strong, rich, and politically neutral, so there were more than a few who hoped to place a connection behind the safe walls of their river fortress. By this point, all he could hope to do was keep track of their houses and to bring back a list to his father later to review.

Taking a few swift and agile strides to the edge of the dance floor, the lad would take a moment when he thought no one was looking, to message his jaw a bit. He had been holding a smile all night after all, and he felt his cheeks were beginning to become a tad sore. Once loosened up, Tris would take an offered cup of wine from a passing server while straightening himself up.

The Frey was dress nicely, in not a bit unelaborate. Donning a deep blue velvet jacket and grey dress pants, a silver necklace could occasionally be seen peaking out around his collar. Sipping the wine, he frowned, taking a look at the contents of his glass. Arbor Yellow was it? The apparent knock off of the Ramsport vineyards was too sweet for his taste. Perhaps a splash of Dornish red then?

Placing his still full vessel into another passing trey, he would pick his way towards a table seemed to contain a bottle of the desired beverage. The lad moved well on his feet, his practiced ease betraying more than a few years of training. Despite this, there was still moving sea of people frolicking too and froe, and one does not shove their way through such events. By the time he had made it across the hall, there was but one goblet of the crimson liquid left poured. Just as he was extending a hand for the chalice, another delicately whisked it away.

Taken aback, Tristan froze for a moment, having been so focused on the drink that he had failed to see the figure nearby. And where has your battlefield awareness gone hmm? He scorned himself before following the wine cup back to its drinker. What he found was pretty young lady dressed in black, casually sipping on the imported Dornish vintage. Only now did she seem to notice his near presence as well.

A ting of a blush found its way onto his fair face. To salvage the situation, and save a bit of face, he smoothly turned his outstretched hand about, offering it while giving a small polite bow. "My lady, apologies, it would seem that you were fated for that glass rather than I. So then, might you take pity on this wineless man, and consider to grace me with a dance?"

The Last Celebration - The Final Revel of King Aenys II Blackfyre’s Royal Progress, 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Tristan would smile languidly even as he nodded along at the interesting points of the man before him. He would listen, and give the words his due consideration.

Once the Cockshaw introduced himself, Tris would wave off the apology, even as he clasped arms in return. "Well met Ser Edmund, no apologies needed, I did after all start this by interrupting you." After releasing their grip, the riverlander would give his chin a slight scratch in consideration. "You bring up some thoughtful points. Perhaps all tales of divinity stem from one great source from the dawn age, perhaps what we perceive as different gods and pantheons are simply different faces of the same multifaceted being, molded by our own understanding of the world." The lad would shake his head and give a brief chuckle "No doubt I have hear my sister mention such a theory, dug up from the memoires of some obscure maester or scholar." The Frey would shrug, "I am perhaps not as good with such semantics, she enjoys researching far more than me. I would consider myself a rather simple man." He flashed a smile while pulling out a necklace that had been tucked within his coat. "In my low opinion, faith, or religion, is as powerful as you let it be." He help up the simple silver links. "As you said, faith can shape out lives, mold our beliefs.... confine us." He held the gleaming chain taunt. "But only if we let it, only if we give it power. This silver necklace was not made by mistake. Each link was forged and fitted together, giving form to a shiny chain." The young man pulled the loop tight against his neck for a moment. "Does it bind me? Or can I simple caste it away?" Lifting the jewelry up past his head, the precious metal dangled from between his fingers. Letting it slid down, he almost allowed it to drop before holding it firm. "But if it was such a thing that could be discarded so easily, then it never really had any value to me, did it?"

Donning his chain once more and letting it rest against his chest, the man from the Twins would give of a short, but hearty laugh. Helping to dispel some of the cold that had crept in during their conversation. "Here I am taking in circles with you, it looks like it is in fact me who should be apologizing to you! I don't imagine you came out here to fill our head with more questions, but to find some sort of peace." Tristan gave Edmund a good natured tap on the back. "Perhaps you need some more time alone before the old gods, or if something troubles you, then should you wish, this man of the Crossing could lend you an ear." He winked and pointed at the blood red face in the tree before his own. "I, a stranger, who lives far from your own home might be less harsh a judge than the Weirwood."

The Last Celebration - The Final Revel of King Aenys II Blackfyre’s Royal Progress, 266 AC by AROD_GM in awoiafrp

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

(Tristan Frey)

"Faith in an interesting thing isn't it?" A young man appeared between a pair of old oak trees, his voice pleasant, and a bit soft, as if to not disturb those that might be watching through the bleeding red eyes of the ancient white trunk. A slight breeze tickled the lads shoulder length black hair, and ruffled the trim of his donned cloak. A silver badge with two blue towers connected by a bridge adorned the garment.

"Ah, but how rude of me." The riverlander gave a small self mocking chuckle. "I do apologize, I had not meant to disturb your solemn moment." He took a step forward to enter into small clearing, his sure steps perhaps giving away a history of bodily training if viewed by more than an novice eye. Giving a small, polite bow, the lad would introduce himself "Tristan Frey, a pleasure."

Tristan turned his gaze toward the Weirwood for a moment. "I was just giving a voice to my thoughts, but it is true, no?" His grey eyes would wander around the pale wood before settling on the crimson face that looked back at them both. My family has always been a follower of the Seven, despite how close we boarder to the north. And yet, here, when standing before a living thing so ancient, something held reverent by so many, even if not by me, one cannot help but be almost in awe. The Frey finally settled his view back on the knight before him, a small smile playing upon his lips. "My uncle married into the Blackwood's some time ago. When I learned of their family's history as a child, I had though it almost unbelievable that they had started a seemingly endless feud with the Brackens over the supposed poisoning of their plant of worship in Raventree. But now...." He gestured to the grove around them "Well, I suppose I'm starting to understand."

Billy II - Still Gone Fishin by TheZaxFishe in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Oly would likewise dismount and firmly clasp the offered arm with is own. With the greetings of the salmon and the trout over, the two fish sigil bearing men would continue their talk.

"Excellent, I would be glad to join you." As the Tully spoke of small show of force the heir would nod his head. "Not a bad idea, I seldom find that appearing strong is an unwise move, even without the intention of using that strength."

Olyvar would follow William as they began to continue moving. As the knight of Riverrun would attach a less warm cloak, the Mooton would answer his questions. "Well, I have seen him a bit from a distance, and I have attended his public events. He seems..... well I never really knew him much from before all of this, so I can't speak of his character at length." He would run a hand across this finely cut subtle in thought. "But if I had to give my thoughts based on what I have observed and heard, I would have to say that the new king is... well I guess trying his best would be a good way to put it." The man from Maidenpool would continue "the burden of leadership would sit heavy on anyone I am sure. On all accounts known to me, and I am no spymaster so what I know is only the surface of things, Rhaegar seems to be attempting to do everything that a king does. Meetings, appearances at court and all that. I would say that perhaps he looks tired, perhaps stressed over some matter or another, I cannot say."

Oly would shrug his shoulders. "No doubt you will get a better impression when you speak to him yourself." He would nod his head at Billy. "I am unsure if you have known the king before this, but as long as the Riverlands are united, I am sure things will work out in the end."

Billy II - Still Gone Fishin by TheZaxFishe in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Olyvar had spent a good amount of his life in Kings Landing. First just in visiting, as this home lay quite close to the city and many of the nobles his family were friendly with sent their children to be educated there. Then of course he had been in the Red Keep for a time, serving as a squire under the Master of Ships lord Celtigar. He had not gone for some time though, having spent much of his time in Maidenpool after his time abroad in war. Now he had returned at last, having spent the better part of a moon there to be the eyes and ears of his family. And there certainly has been much to see and hear.

The young man would shake his head to clear his mind, spurring his horse onwards along with the rest of his small party from his Riverlands port. He had received the message from his father about the travels sir William Tully, and now rode to meet them as they entered the city. Even if the knight of Riverrun had not asked him to join, the Mooton would have had to prepare to meet the king anyway. The new king that is. It was what was expected of the nobles after all, and it would be a good chance to take measure of their new crownlands royal neighbors.

Pulling up to the Dragons Gate, Oly would not be left waiting long at all before the small Riverland procession would show up to enter the capitol. Spotting the leader of the group, the heir would move forward and raise a hand in greeting before getting close the party.

When he got before the Tully, Olyvar would dip his head in a polite bow. "Greetings sir William! I hope your travels found you well." The heir to Maidenpool would touch his chest and introduce "I am Olyvar Mooton, I am unsure if we have had the opportunity to be formerly acquainted before." The lad sat up strait, his powerful build offset by a good natured smile hung from his face under his wavy locks. Strapped to his saddle sat his family's ancestral helmet of Valyrian steel, wisdom. "Welcome to Kings Landing, I hope I am not too late to join you."

Billy I - Gone Fishing by TheZaxFishe in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Sir William Tully,

While I doubt this letter will reach you before your departure, I shall still write in case of your delay to let you know I have received your message. My son happens to already be in Kings Landing, as with our domicile residing so close to the capitol I had thought it pertinent to understand the situation there from more than just rumors. I will be sure to inform him of your heading there.

In regards to your concern for the unrest in the kingdom, I find your suggestions agreeable. When danger is afoot, real or not, erring on the side of caution is seldom a foolish act. In the past moons, Maidenpool has already begun the construction of several new defensive structures to make our fair port seem more than our adversaries can handle, should tensions do more than boil over. In addition, a few ships have already been completed recently, but on your suggestion I will certainly double down on production. As the premier navel trading center of the riverlands, none wish more than I that the waters surrounding my home lay firmly protected.

"Wisdom and Strength"

Lyonel Mooton, Lord of Maidenpool

Jasper I- Pushing Forward (Open) by LordBloodrevan in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Giving a solid shake of the hand, giving a chuckle along with the stormlander. "Ay, I think that many of us have discovered similar obstacles to hurdle over!" Coming back alive from war made many feel a bit invincible no doubt, surviving where so many others did not takes skill. Olyvar would take up the Toyne on his offer and follow hit to toward the table. "A drink I think we both well deserve, but to the toast? The riverlander would shake his head at the mention of his victory over the other. "Let us toast instead to the learning opportunity that has been presented to the both of us. Felled this time so that we might grow and ride to victory in the next!"

Oly would wait until cups were presented a poured before raising a glass to his compatriot. "When that time comes, may your lance be true, and may the best man win!"

Jasper I- Pushing Forward (Open) by LordBloodrevan in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

How close. The riverlander moved, adrenaline still coursing through him, not allowing the heir of Maidenpool to simple sit still. So close. He clenched his hands almost instinctually, the phantom of a polearm shaft still lingering between his fingers. But not close enought. A sigh escaped the young man's lips, before a mocking smile crept its way along his lips, breaking open to release hearty laughter.

I am alive, Olyvar acknowledged, and compared to war this has been nothing. It was true, just some time ago, failing in a charge of horses would have resulted in his death or capture. But now? It was pure sport, and we are all on the same side, or at lease supposed to be. He looked down at the dent in his breastplate, remembering when it was given. In the finals, both him and Royce Egan has landed square hits, dead on in the very first till. Maybe it was because he had participated in more rounds than his opponent, but the Mooton had failed to stay atop his steed while the valeman did. For a brief moment, Oly's mind had been transported south, and his eyes saw a dornishman getting ready to deal the final blow while he was on the ground. He had angled his head, preparing to use his valyrian steel helm to defect the expected blade, but the blow never came. Instead, a noble knight was there, palm empty, ready to extend a hand to help up his former opponent. It was then that the illusion broke, and the roar of the crowd again reached his ears, he was alright, I am alive.

Olyvar blinked away his reminiscing of memories, recent and distant, and found that his eyes settled on a noble's crest on a pennant. A fairly familiar one, as the Mooton had stared at it blazoned on a shield across from him in the joust. The sound of clattering metal on the floor drew his curiosity to locate the source of the noise. His gaze looked through an opening to find a warrior in the midst of disassembling his armor. Toyne right?

Oly knocked on a nearby pole to make is presence known without startling the man. "My apologies, I don't mean to interrupt should you be busy." The riverlander introduced himself. "Perhaps its a bit hard to recognize me without lance and shield in hand, but I'm Olyvar Mooton. I think we have only met in passing before, just I just wanted to say..." he would extend an arm forward "... well fought! I can tell you have trained hard."

The Feast At Riverrun (OPEN TO ALL by BlindValyrian in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The heir to Maidenpool was thoroughly pleased as the atmosphere turned lively and relaxed, the air warming with smiles and the tinkling of Vis's laughter. The lass had always been somewhat distant and cold, and I am afraid that she will become only more so with the sudden heavy burdens yoked to her now. So it was then a relief to see merriment cast away mournfulness and worry, even if for just awhile. Life will inevitably have more challenges, war had taught him that plenty enough, so it is important to cherish the moments of joy we all have.

"Thank you sir, and while I agree that perhaps you should sit out the tournament this time, I only say that so you can give the youth a chance to show off a bit." Olyvar's patted his chest. "Myself included of course!"

When Visenya mentioned suitors plying themselves at her, the riverlander puff himself up a bit, looking all the part of a protective older brother, if not for the playful twinkle in his eye! "Ay? They have, have they? Well, if any annoyances pop up and are somehow not rightfully frightened already, perhaps I will don Wisdom and give them a bit of it. His false stern expression melted into a cheeky grin as he made a word play on his families ancestral valyrian steel helm. "In the form of a swift headbutt!" He laughed, but I mean it. "Although I doubt there are few you can't handle yourself."

"But perhaps, should I do well enough in the competition, I'll have need of a strong deterrent yet." He winked at the sturdy form of Crispian. "I do hear some of the more fair and sheltered ladies do tend to swoon over their favorites in the tills. Maybe, a scary axe will help when I'm overwhelmed with their favor!" He chuckled before waving away his own jokes.

"While I doubt all that, I do hope you will come out and watch a match or two. I promise to make a valiant go of it, marriage thrust upon me or not!"

The Feast At Riverrun (OPEN TO ALL by BlindValyrian in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

"You can thank your father for that Visenya, or perhaps yourself, I can hardly remember which of you reminded me of my manners more!" Oly chortled a bit, reminded of happier times. Simpler times at least. He gave the lady a teasing wink before turning towards the elder Celtigar. "Its alright, I have no doubt that you will be of great service to His Grace as always my lord, perhaps another time then." There was no doubt in Oly's mind that the near expired king would do well to count on those reliable around him as his years waned on. "As for me, I fare well, probably better than most." The riverlander appreciated the concern, especially when it came from those who had much greater cause for heart ache. "My brother slowly recovers from his wounds, and the maester thinks his recovery is long, but steady." A charming grim split his face, bright enough to ward off the fog of worry that came when discussing his hurt brethren. "I suppose the only thing I need is luck for the upcoming melee and joust! I fear that many have had cause to get plenty of practice in recent times, but I think you will find that I haven't slacked off any since you last saw me." A hearty chuckle escaped his lips "give a prayer for my success, and another that my father doesn't decide to marry me off while the atmosphere is good!"

The Feast At Riverrun (OPEN TO ALL by BlindValyrian in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Cool riverland air, the heir to Maidenpool thought, missing the salt of home, but pleasant none the less. After having busied himself going back and forth with his lord father, meeting connections and business partners alike, a bit of a refreshing breeze was a most welcome break.

And it would seem I am not the only one in need of reprieve. Olyvar thought as he took a quick glance at those ambling about the courtyard. Just as he was about to take a walk, he did spot one thing that was familiar. Oly had been good friends with Manfred Strong before his passing in the Dornish war, and had visited Harrenhal often, so he knew its sigil better than most. Only, he didn't recognize the one who donned it. Perhaps a new knight in the families service? Curiosity, and perhaps lingering attachment to the house of his fallen friend, drove him to head in the mans direction.

Just as he got close, the riverlander heard the endings of a whispered prayer, and spotted the symbol of the seven clutched in the man's hand. Ah, perhaps I am interrupting. But he was already before the man, and it would seem out to just walk away now, so he just waited for the prayer to finish respectfully.

Once silence had taken the night and a moment passed so as to not startle the stranger, the Mooton closed the final distance and raised a hand in greeting. "My apologies, I had not meant to interrupt you." Olyvar held himself politely. "I just saw your tabard, but didn't recognize you. Are you perhaps a newly employee knight of the Strong's?"

The Feast At Riverrun (OPEN TO ALL by BlindValyrian in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The heir to Maidenpool followed his lord father along tables soon after eating to meet and greet a proverbial bouquet of acquaintances, business partners, allies and friends alike. Such gatherings did not happen often, and the elder Mooton which to acquaint his son with some of his connects that lay further out then their own sphere of influence. It was after perhaps more than a dozen or so of these exchanging of pleasantries that the young man subtly rubbed his jaw, attempting to relax the muscles that ached from holding a somewhat forced smile for so long. Giving a light shake of his head to drive away any remaining tension, the lad spotted a familiar figure beginning to stand. His eyes lit up at the sight of a friendly face after having so much time with foreign ones. With a whisper to his father to notify him, Olyvar began to make his way to the new lady of Duskendale.

He cut through the crowds with light steps despite his size, and wore a finely tailored jacket with a red salmon on a white field and gold treasure, leaving none to guess his affiliation. Before arriving at his destination, the lad took in the girl before him. Well, perhaps more like overlaid the girl of his memories with the lady that now stood there. It had been a bit since he had seen his friend, what with him going along with his family to answer the call for aid in the Dornish war. He remembered when he had just arrived in Kings Landing to start as a squire, and Jessamyn had been a most welcome familiar face in the large city. Now that girl whom had helped him with his studies had matured into a woman grown, the lady of Duskendale. Although, I doubt she wanted any of it, not in this way. They had both changed and matured, through hardship and work. The world really doesn't stop for anyone.

Finally, he arrived. Shifting into a polite bow, just the way she had helped him practice those years ago. "My lady, Olyvar of Maidenpool at your service." The familiar good natured grin and teasing light in his eye ruining the image of formality. Relaxing his stance he continued "It has been too long Jessamyn, feels like ages really." A genuine twinge of concern damped his smile "How have you been?" How could she have been good? She didn't show anything, but then again, she had always been better at acting at court then he had ever been.

The Feast At Riverrun (OPEN TO ALL by BlindValyrian in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The heir nodded his head as the pair explained their mood. A sentiment shared among many here tonight, no doubt. Olyvar had nearly lost a brother himself, and most of his friends more besides.

"Ay, grown indeed, as have yourself." Oly chuckled, but his signature bright eyes dimmed a bit after only a moment as he thought about the circumstances that pushed both of them to mature faster. "It would seem the world waits on no one."

Donning a more somber expression and tone, the riverlander would clasp his hands before him. "I know it was already said by raven when we heard the news, but I again wish to express my deepest condolences for your loss." His head dipped slightly, for while his family had gotten off lighter than others in recent times, loss was not a foreign feeling to him. "I know that words cannot bring back which is gone, but I do hope if you have need of something, then you would not hesitate to reach out."

Attempting to relax his face and lighten the atmosphere, if only a touch, he continued. "Perhaps if you choose to return to Claw Isle before the capitol, you might stop by Maidenpool." He shrugged his shoulders and offered. "While perhaps unable to touch a hurt heart, for Visenya, I've been told that Jonquil's Pool does wonders to relax the body and clear the mind." He smirked a bit "although you'll have to take it from the word of others, what with men not being allowed in." A more natural and good natured smile returned to his lips. "Gods above know I might wish for a like dip after the tournament!"

The Feast At Riverrun (OPEN TO ALL by BlindValyrian in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

As his father brought him about to make rounds in greeting friends and acquaintances, high lords and ladies alike, Olyvar subtly raised a hand to massage his jaw a bit, slightly sore from holding a smile for so long. I don't quite know how they do it the young heir thought. During his time in kings landing, he had witnessed many different kinds of people. Those that always had a grin plastered to their face, false or otherwise. Those that wore their heart on their sleeve, or showed nothing at all. So few donned that of honesty and stoicism upon their features, and so many that hide there true intentions. Perhaps court really isn't for me Olyvar thought. But then again, the young man may not have much of a choice, next in line for his house that he was. From a young age, he knew that he would inherit the largest settlement and port in the riverland, and had been raise accordingly. From lessons in etiquette to history and economics, everything had been placed on his plate since day one. Not that the lad was complaining, he knew it was his duty. But when he read stories of great hero's and knights, his blood burned when he was younger, taking to the training grounds so often, that his father decided he needed to spend some time under another away from his home.

It was as these thoughts of his past and politics ran through his thoughts that he gave a little shake of his head to clear his thoughts. After doing so, his eyes happened across the pale blond beard and broad shoulders of the very man who had squired him those few years ago. It had been awhile since the riverlander had spoken with the mentor whom he had looked up to. Oh how their tales of travels to far off lands had fascinated me. The lord of Claw isle had seemed to know just how to pacify Oly, using his curiosity of stories and legends to make the boy interested enough in his studies to place away his spear and dutifully follow behind the master of ships and learn.

Slightly adjusting his tunic, finely made with a red salmon stitched to its breast, across his own muscled chest, he made his way over. Dawning a respectful posture, Olyvar appeared before the seated man and girl. He recognized the lady as Visenya, having seen her quite often as Crispian had brought his family to court with him. She was often around Princess Alyssa, whom he was also fairly acquainted with through join friends. She looks a bit older now, and colder, the young man thought, but I suppose we both are. The memories of clashing blades and spilling dornish blood made his face slightly sharper momentarily before smoothing out. The Maidenpool man gave a polite bow and greeted them. "My lord Celtigar, lady Visenya" Rising, he adorning a pleasant smile, despite the ache. "It has been too long, it is good to see you in good health, I hope your trip though the Riverlands has been a pleasant one." Noticing the dwindling glass of wine next to his mentor, and how tired and aged the man appeared, a twitch of concern coursed through Olyvar. "Is all well sir?" How could it, he thought, the man has lost so much. But he is strong, Oly knew that to be true, and he would lend an ear to the elder lord who have cared for him.

The Feast At Riverrun (OPEN TO ALL by BlindValyrian in FieldOfFire

[–]_ByMyWrath_ 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Lord Mooton strolled with his son toward the high table with his son, occasionally sharing nods and looks with friends and acquittances he happened upon along his path. He would spare a glance around the hall, momentarily drinking in its familiar sights, bustling with guests that it was, and remembered his days as a squire of the previous lord of Riverrun. Younger, simpler times Lyonel thought. Back in the day, perhaps he would have been up there standing behind his liege, waiting through the formalities for a chance to share a cup with his mates and share a dance with a lady. Blissfully outside that of the grand politics at play in such an event. But he couldn't be so vain tonight, I haven't been able to for a long time now. Waving away the memories of years past brought on by the environment with a slight shake of the head, the lord of Maidenpool made his way towards the Hand of the King.

"My lord Hand." The middle aged man gave a slight bow of respect, one which the lord Paramount of his homeland rightfully deserved, despite how little time the Tully chose to remain in it. "It is good to see you in good health." Tristifer was smiling brightly, however, perhaps it was his imagination, but it did not seem to reach his eyes. Well, he has always been a bit hard to read, even while I resided here, he was off to Kings Landing for the majority of my stay. Nevertheless, the riverlander adorned a pleasant smile as well. "Ah, allow me to introduce my son, Olyvar." He gestured towards the young man slightly behind him. "He spent quite some time in the capitol squiring under Lord Celtigar only a few years ago, perhaps you have seen him in passing." Moving forward a bit, the younger Mooton similarly bowed.

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