Moat Cailin

[Ollie]

"A man can dream, can't he Lord Edmure?" Olander said lightly. "And you'll see your sweet wife soon enough, never worry. You should have sent for her, you know."

[House Lefford]

"I didn't want to her to travel so far so soon after the birth, but I wont be staying here to long as well. I want to get back to Karhold and see my family, also my brother william and his wife are coming up to the north soon as well."

[Ollie]

"Is he?" Olander asked, pouring himself a large goblet of red wine. "Grand, grand. I'll see him north to Karhold in good time when he passes through." The crannoglord was in a rare mood, enthusiastically attacking a platter of honeyed frog's legs and whispering words into his lady wife's ear that made her laugh and hit his hands away playfully when she blushed.

Across the hall, a trio of singers launched into a rousing rendition of The Mossy Maiden, and a cheer was taken up by the crannogmen who made up the noisy, jovial feast as they joined in.

[Tytos]

Pieter had been present for the beginning of the ceremony, but as he wasn't of the Old Gods he excused himself to meet with Meraxes. After their meeting he had prepared himself and went down to the feast, dressed in the livery of House Tully.

Lord Pieter Tully entered the Great Hall, and made his way up to the table where he took his seat beside the new Lord Reed.

"This is a fine feast you have prepared, Lord Reed. The Northmen look to be heartily enjoying it, and I as well. I haven't met many Northmen in my time, but you seem to be a fine lot." Pieter said.

[Ollie]

Olander exhaled a chuckle through at the phrase a fine lot. "Saving lords trapped in their own castles, bringing murderers to justice, taking enemy controlled isles and capturing traitor kings," he said dryly.

Olander smirked slightly, "Oh yes, a fine lot we are, indeed."

[Tytos]

Pieter smiled and let out a hearty laugh. "I am truly grateful for what you did for me, Lord Reed. Without you, or the Northmen," Pieter said, waving his hand in front of him, "I would not be here. And for that, I thank you Lord Reed, and Lord Stark as well." Pieter stated, humbling himself for the moment.

[Ollie]

Myrrah Reed giggled nearby. "Ha-ha! Looks like the river fish has gone frozen!" she exclaimed jokingly.

"Aye! And rightly so!" cried another voice from a table further away. "We ought be seeing frozen eagles, and ice covered bridges, and frosty ravens, and little dancing maidens with their teats stiff from the cold!"

Several men nearby laughed loudly at the second jest, and many began to add their voices to the din. "You know, them Rivers ought be a bit more chilly after we been through down south, right boys?" -- "I climbed the walls at Harrenhal, then I climbed into the bed of some young lassies bed and went swimming in her creek!" -- "Chopped me a right crop of tentacles at Raventree, but I ain't got my sucker scars till afterwards!" -- "Spent a night at Lady Frey's castle, ought to have seen if she'd raise her drawbridge!"

The soldiers continued to roar and laugh, wine and ale and feast flowing free. The din rose so that it became difficult for anyone to hear the voice next to them, until with a suddenness like lightning, a noise cut through the air.

Olander Reed was standing, one fist held high with goblet in hand, the other slammed down on the wooden table. Again he did it, with an amount of force surprising to a man his size.

"My good lords and gentle ladies!" the crannoglord cried, his normal quiet tones abandoned as he shouted with a hidden strength. "Members of Houses ancient and proud! Northmen -- First Men! Tonight we don't only feast in memory of men fallen, but also in thought of men yet to come! The men our children, and our children's children will see when they are lords in their own right. Men of strength, and bravery. Men of honor. Men of ancient blood, still ruling this land!

Lord Olander plowed on, his goblet of wine rising higher with each sentence. "We have seen trials, of that there is no doubt. We have been wronged, and we had our struggles and woes, and they will not be the last we see! But the blood of the North runs as old as the streams of the Rills, or as deep as the trees of Wolfswood! We will overcome all foe in our path, and conquer every difficulty! We will fortify, and under the wise leadership of our noble lords, we will be mighty!"

"Let the reconstruction of one of our most ancient strongholds mark the beginning of a new age in the North! I welcome you, noble Lords of the North, to Moat Cailin, my home, and the first shield against the south. A toast! A toast to the lords of the Rills, of the Barrowlands, of the Wolfswood, and of the Neck! Lords of the Mountain Clans! Lords guard the Sunset and Shivering Seas and overwatch the northern waters! Our noble Lord of Winterfell! A toast to the North!" he boomed, and drank deeply to his toast, as did men old and young, of high birth and of low, as did all of the North.

[Percy Rivers]

Roose sipped from his cold ale, nodding at Olander's seat. When the crannogman had reseated himself he stood. The hall quieted as the Lord of Winterfell searched them all with his eyes. "Long has the north watered the lands of the south with the blood of our warriors. Long have we fought to bring justice and order where none could be found. We have endured much, we still endure much, and we hope to be able to endure more. The members of the Night's Watch call themselves the shields of the realms of men. We are the horn, the loud reminder an upholder of the cold, hard truth, the unrelenting justice. Whether in life or death we have always found victory."

He looked around the hall, growing right in between the stones were the three weirwoods. "Our dead watch with the old gods, let them not be ashamed. This feast is for them." Raising his goblet in the air he finished, "Hail! Hail the victorious dead!"

[Ollie]

"To the victorious dead," Olander echoed, and drank down his wine. Men around them drank for a second time, and the quiet stretched on in remembrance. Slowly the murmurs began to return, growing stronger until the clatter and noise of the feast returned, albeit with a reserved air.

After sharing a quieted conversation with his lady wife, the crannogman turned to his liege lord. "That was well spoken, milord. The North will ever be victorious, I swear it."

[Tytos]

Pieter quietly nodded his head along with the Northmen, feeling out of place. He took a drink of wine when the toast was declared, and welcomed the return of noise to the hall.

"I never got a chance to tell you. I am sorry about your father, Olander. I am sure he was a good man." In truth, Pieter knew next to nothing about Olander's father. "But also, congratulations on your Lordship. I am sure you will make your father proud." It was an odd two-sided monologue, mourning the dead but celebrating the newly opened position as well.

[Ollie]

"Thank you Lord Tully. I can only hope th-..." the crannoglord began, voice dropping as cries of pain and fear began to grip the room. Olander rose to his feet, his eyes glinting with a rage that would not be realized. Sinking to his knees, he felt a burning churn within his gut.

[Ollie]

//////////

600 northmen have assembled in the courtyard at dawn, with the hunchback Meraxes Frey in tow, fettered and well guarded. Yorlan Fenn is at the head of the group, and awaits Lord Tully.

[Tytos]

Pieter arrived at the courtyard and greeted Yorlan Fenn. "I take it you are the leader of the Northmen?" Pieter asked.

[Ollie]

Yorlan Fenn smirked. "No. The leader of the Northmen would be Lord Olander. I'm just the man in charge of leading them south."

[Tytos]

Pieter laughed, "I meant the host." He looked at the gathered men before turning back to Yorlan.

"A Riverlands host of 600 will meet us at The Twins. I put them under the command of my cousin, Ser Brandisas Tully. Once we get to The Twins I plan to order Ser Warren Frey to turn himself over to us. Let us hope it will be that easy."