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Tune Mizu's avatar

Sparkly Shapeshifter

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                xxxxxxxxx "Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away, WHERE INNOCENCE IS BURNED... IN FLAMES.
                xxxxxxxxxx A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. » I'm frozen to the bones, (I AM)
                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆ : A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights... OF SHAME.
                xxxxxxxxxx I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. » I'm ready for the fight... and fate."


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                                  The sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky. Gone was the night and Dacey Mormont took a deep breath of the morning air. It smelled like the last remains of summer, crisp and fresh before the oncoming winter destroyed everything. While the North was almost always covered in a layer of frost, the South would be brutalized by the change of the seasons. Not that she should care… Dacey had never been one of those girls that liked to pick flowers or sit outside and cross stitch. No, her childhood days had been spent riding through the forests of Bear Island, hunting and racing with her cousin and sisters.

                                  But there would be time to reminisce later. She could see the Lannister banners on the horizon, and it was time to march. “Go and fetch Lady Alisar. Tell her that we’ve arrived.” The guard to her right nodded and ran down the hill into their camp.

                                  Her horse snorted and pawed at the ground, and she gently patted his neck. The large black beast was a present from her mother, a gift for Dacey’s fist campaign from the main group. She remembered her mother beaming with pride when Dacey was selected by Robb Stark himself to co-lead a force of five hundred men against what they believed to be a raiding party belonging to Tywin Lannister’s camp. Most of their force belonged to House Bolton, troops that her co-commander had brought all the way from the Dreadfort, but Dacey’s confidence came from the troops she commanded from House Mormont. Their green, bear emblazoned banners flapped in the soft breeze, and Dacey herself proudly wore her house’s colors underneath her armor and mail.

                                  She heard the men murmuring behind her and craned her head, catching sight of the young wonder she’d met the other night. Aliser Bolton… A former b*****d turned heir to the Dreadfort. Their stories were not much different. Although Dacey did not know her father, she carried the Mormont name and was her mother’s official heir. On Bear Island, many young women followed the tradition if they did not believe any man was worthy of their hand. Dacey’s own sister had two children already and she was three years younger. But whereas Dacey’s family only had minor stains of dishonor, that her mother had done a rather good job of erasing, Aliser’s father was Ramsay Bolton, the b*****d of Roose Bolton believed to have murdered his trueborn brother to inherit his father’s titles. She could not imagine walking around with such shame…

                                  Dacey watched Aliser ride up to her side, giving the girl a small smile when she stopped beside her. “Good morning my lady… It’s a beautiful morning for battle, isn’t it?” She laughed, the breeze kicking up again and ruffling her braids. “We’re lucky; the winds favor us. My mother used to tell me stories about when the Ironmen would invade Bear Island looking for wives; they only ever came if the wind favored them… Perhaps we'll find ourselves some wives, eh?”


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Glitchitty's avatar

Partying Sex Symbol

So, there they were. King's Landing's Finest, they called themselves. A green boy with dreams of valor, a Night's Watch deserter, and an Ironborn warrior, watching the world unfold from a tiny camp nestled in the foothills east of the Green Fork and the Kingsroad. The campfire smoldered, having never really reached a high enough heat to cook something, meaning it was a breakfast of dried venison. Again. The last thing they wanted to do with Wolves on one side and Lions on the other was draw attention to themselves. Of course, in time, they'd be doing just that.

"Alright, look," Jeff said, tearing into a hunk of salted meat. "The way I see it? Lannister's the way to go."

Gil was in the process of polishing his blade to a glimmering sheen in the low light, speaking without sparing Jeff so much as a glance. "Eh? Why's that then?"

"Well, they've got more money. A lot more money. Meaning their troops are better armed, there's more of them, they're better trained..." Another big bite of venison, and he spoke with his mouth full. "That, and they'll be able to pay us more."

Gil scowled, turning his blade over in his lap. "Not a fan of Lannisters..."

"And considerin' you've got Tywin bloody Lannister on one side, versus the Young Wolf... who d'you think's gonna win?" He finished his breakfast, licking his fingers. "Aeron, pitch in, maybe?"

"Don' ya ask me," Aeron growled, the grizzled warrior stuffing his pipe. "I don' much care fer either side. I say, we 'ave us a sit... an' when this mess is all o'er with down below, we side with th' winners." The Ironman lit his pipe with the dying remnants of the fire, puffing away on it before warming his free hand. He'd killed Starks, Lannisters, Baratheons, and everything in between during the rebellion. Aeron wasn't in this for any glory, no... just money.

(Better post art will come later. x3)
flanne's avatar

Dapper Gekko

User Image
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxALISER BOLTON xxxxxxxxxxxx
The stars ✫
xxxxxxxxThe moon
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThey have all been ☁blown o u t
xxxxxxxxxxxxYou left me in the DARK
xxxxxxxNo dawn
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNo d a y
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm always in this twilight
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxIn the S H A D O W of your heartxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Morning hadn’t come soon enough.

Sitting at a small table in her tent, Aliser studied a map, having been up half the night memorizing just about everything she would need to remember. This was such a crucial thing, and she didn’t want to screw it all up. Her father’s name already haunted her wherever she went. Instead of sporting the Bolton sigil on her armor, the direwolf of Hose Stark had instead been engraved in the center. If anything, this would be her chance to gain even a little bit of honor to her name. She hadn’t wanted to stand by her father. She wanted to follow Robb Stark, and she would continue to follow him until she was dead.

The sudden movement at the front of the tent caught Aliser’s attention, sending her to her feet. A guard stood there, holding one of the flaps aside for a moment before fully stepping into the tent.

We’ve arrived, my lady.” He stated, turning his head slightly to watch another guard pass by. She had assumed that that’s why he had come back. Stepping around the table, she snatched up her sheathed sword and cloak, briskly walking past the man. Her horse was just outside the tent, already ready for her. Pulling herself into the saddle, she took the reins in her hand and directed the horse down the path, her short ginger hair whipping around in the morning wind.

With a few men trailing behind her, she could already see the banners flowing in the wind at the top of the hill, and she pressed her horse to go faster, it’s trot turning into a full out gallop. She slowed the beast down just as it came up next to the woman whom she had only been acquainted with the other night.

I would guess we’d find more whores than women.” Aliser turned to Dacey Mormont, her eyebrows raised slightly. “They wouldn’t do much good to us, I must say. The men may be happy though, it’d give them a little entertainment if we come out on time.” She said as she turned to the horizon. The banners were obvious against the sunlight. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she sat there, Dacey next to her, and the men around the both of them. “Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible, then.” She said, looking at her co-commander, her face twisted in mock seriousness.




User Image
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHARLEN SNOW x
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNow there's no holding back ↙↙
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm making to ➸attack
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMy blood is ♪singing♪ with your voice
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI want to pour it out
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe saints can't help me now ☁
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe ropes have been✄ u n b o u n d
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI hunt for you with bloody feet across the ◡hallow'd◡ g r o u n d


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAnd ◣H O W L◥xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


The snow fell silently, the clouds gathering overhead. The morning was dreary, like like every morning in Winterfell. Harlen had grown used to it after being raised in such a place. She didn't mind it, it was home. But she could do without living where she lived.

Standing in the small kitchen, she could hear shuffling in the room right on the other side of the wall, followed by a woman's moan. Rolling her eyes, she banged her fist on the wall and continued with the dishes until she was finished. Piling them up on the table, she left them for someone else to take care of and left the room. She hated the pathetic whore house she considered home. Her mother hadn't done much to try and raise her like the women there, so she was thankful for that. But she wasn't thankful for the lack of raising she had done at all.

Retreating to her room, Harlen figured it was time to leave. She had been there long enough, and she felt certain that she would be needed in Robb's march south. And if she wasn't, she would find another way to contribute.

As she pulled her things into a small sack, she pulled the strap over her shoulder and grabbed her sword. It was going to be a long trip, but she needed this. She needed to get out of Winterfell, out of this whore house. She wouldn't tell her mom goodbye. She wouldn't say anything to anyone. She would simply... leave. Pulling her boots on, she raced through the building to the back door, slowly shutting it behind her.

Their one and only horse was tied out back, the saddle already on it. As she strapped her sack onto the back of the horse, she pulled herself into the saddle and rounded the house, headed for the gate. As long as she continued down the kingsroad, she felt like she had a good chance of locating them one way or another.

(Ooc: My brain is derping right now... I will be better)
Tune Mizu's avatar

Sparkly Shapeshifter

8,700 Points
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  • Friendly 100
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                xxxxxxxxx "Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away, WHERE INNOCENCE IS BURNED... IN FLAMES.
                xxxxxxxxxx A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. » I'm frozen to the bones, (I AM)
                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆ : A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights... OF SHAME.
                xxxxxxxxxx I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. » I'm ready for the fight... and fate."


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                                  Dacey laughed; the Bolton girl took things too literally sometimes. She knew very little about the others story, but she did know that Aliser Bolton was directly disobeying her House’s orders by being here. The Boltons had already been labeled turncoats, and it was her duty to restore their honor in the eyes of Robb Stark. That was where Dacey came in. She nodded to her lady and then raised her arm, calling for the archers.

                                  Quickly, they stepped forth into two rows, notching their arrows and drawing them back, aiming for the sky. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. The Lannisters had surely seen them now, but they would not have time to take their formations; it would be better to kill them quickly.

                                  “FIRE!”

                                  Her hand fell through the air, and the archers released their arrows in almost perfect unison. The sky was filled with them, over two hundred cutting through the breeze. They rained down on the remains of the Lannister camp, the men still scrambling to get away. Bodies fell into the mud, and trumpets were sounded. They were sending in their horses… Dacey waved off the second archer attack while she turned to Aliser, her horse shifting its weight from side to side; she was growing antsy…

                                  “My Lady… Leave them to me. Wait until the second charge before you send in the rest of the men.” Dacey’s squire called for the cavalry, the Mormont heir’s favorite force to lead. While she was skilled in hand to hand combat, she preferred the feeling of the wind in hair when she rode horseback to charging through an army on foot.

                                  The Mormont cavalry was not very large, but when supplemented by both the Bolton and Stark forces, it was quite the sight. Dacey pulled her sword from its sheath, the blade slicing through the air as she pointed it down the hill towards the oncoming Lannister forces. “CHARGE!”

                                  The hooves of the horses sounded like rolling thunder, a force of nature as they ran down the hill. Dacey was at the front, her braids flying behind her head while her mare galloped across the ground, biting at the bit as she raced onward. A good cavalry horse was hard to find; they had to be brave and fierce, but also tamable. Her mare was the perfect mixture, and had been raised and trained on the rocky shores of Bear Island. Her whinny cut through the others and she soared over these smooth hills like she’d been born with wings.

                                  The two waves of horses crashed into one another, swords and shields glimmering in the morning sunlight. Dacey waded through the crowd, cutting down the lions, their blood staining her tunic and skin. The sun was still not yet high, but Dacey was already sweating, grinning like a mad woman. The lions might have been well equipped, but none of that mattered when you were able to surprise them.

                                  A small cry fell from Dacey’s lips when the legs from her mare were cut out from underneath her, causing the Mormont heir to tumble to the ground. Shaking her head, her ears caught another trumpet, and the second wave of soldiers ran from the woods. She glanced up to the hill where she’d come from and saw the Bolton girl leading the second charge; good… They would be rewarded richly for this victory. She ducked as a sword came swinging for her neck, catching the man in his stomach with her armored fist and while he was doubled over on the ground, she stood up and bashed in the back of his head with her boot.

                                  ******** Lannister bastards…

                                  She continued to push through the fray, determined to kill as many of the bastards as she could before they turned tail and ran… Which happened not long after the second wave. The cavalry combined with the Stark and Bolton foot soldiers sent the Lannister forces running back to their master, Tywin Lannister, hand of the King. Dacey laughed at them, walking the fields back to Aliser’s horse. She wiped the sweat from her brow, sword propped up on her shoulder.

                                  “Well what did you think my Lady? How was that for your first battle?” Some of their men were cheering while others tended to the wounded, others even walking through the field and killing those that were dying. “We’ve won the day, Lady Bolton… I think we should celebrate tonight.”


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Glitchitty's avatar

Partying Sex Symbol

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The two younger men went on, Gil flat out dumping hatred on the Lannisters while Jeff sought to make him see just what could be gained by serving them. Aeron clicked his teeth on the stem of his pipe, rolling his eyes while the two went on. The Ironborn warrior wasn't about to make a move until he saw what side came out on top, and even then, their performance in the fight would have to convince him that they'd continue winning. Though there was indeed a part of him that hoped to see the northerners win. If only because looting Lannister soldiers meant better coin and steel. No, he wasn't particularly fond of any side in this little conflict. He'd fought them all before, under the Greyjoy banner, and they'd not been particularly kind to him.

Jeff, meanwhile, had said his peace. The look on Gil's face was one of the more sour ones he'd ever made, but he bit back the tirade of insults that was forming in his mind. "I won't serve with the Kingslayer," he growled insolently.

"I doubt we would," Jeff mused, sitting on the fallen log beside his friend. "Ser Jaime'll have a force of his own under him. I doubt he'd want a band of hedge knights, even with armament as good as ours. It wouldn't matter, though, we'd still-"

"Oooh, now we're not good enough for the Kingslayer, are we? You've got more honor than that b*****d in your little toe, and you ditched the bloody Wall the first chance you got." Gil was grinning now, hair obscuring his face as he put the finishing touches on his blade. The last slight was clearly intended as sarcasm, though it had been delivered with quite a deadpan tone to it.

"Now, I didn't say that, just- oh, no, are you seriously going there? I mean really? You know bloody well that I didn't deserve to be sent there, and-"

Both of them went silent as a good whore's conscience, their eyes fixed on the field below. Aeron walked up behind them, planting his hands on their shoulders as he gazed down at the slaughter. "I don' know 'bout you lads," he said in his usual gruff drawl, a toothy smile spreading over his face as he gripped the pipe between his teeth. "But I reckon that there means we're throwin' in with th' young Stark."

The battle was short and brutal, and by the end of it, they'd packed their things. It was time to find the man in charge of the Stark force that had just laid waste to the Lannisters, and offer their swords... and, perhaps, see if they couldn't pick a few spoils from the corpses. The horses were saddled and mounted, and the little band of freerider hedge knights were on their way to the regrouping Stark force. "'Ere's hopin' they don' just put an arrow in our arses," Aeron grumbled.

(OOC: That feel when you put more work into post art than you've ever done before, and you forget the apostrophe in "Landing's". @n@)
flanne's avatar

Dapper Gekko

User Image
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxALISER BOLTON xxxxxxxxxxxx
The stars ✫
xxxxxxxxThe moon
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThey have all been ☁blown o u t
xxxxxxxxxxxxYou left me in the DARK
xxxxxxxNo dawn
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNo d a y
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm always in this twilight
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxIn the S H A D O W of your heartxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Aliser’s horse stomped at the ground, twisting its head from side to side; it was growing anxious, and she knew the exact feeling. Fidgeting with her leather gloves, she looked over to Dacey. She wouldn’t know what she’d do without her co-commander. If anything, she could quite possibly run the entire army to their graves if it had simply been her and nobody else leading them. She wondered if this really was worth disobeying her own father. Shaking her head, she had no idea why she was even doubting herself. Looking down at her chest plate, she stared at the Stark sigil and blew out a heavy sigh. This was where she belonged.

The rain of arrows made Aliser’s heart pound against her chest as she watched them descend on the Lannister camp, the men scrambling around for any sort of cover they could find. So many already began to drop to the ground, dead or dying. She didn’t want to wait anymore. Unsheathing her sword, she was met only moments later with Dacey’s words. She was a bit disappointed, she wouldn’t lie, but she already felt that she could trust the woman, and nodded, sitting back in the saddle.

The clash of the two sides sure was a sight. Aliser watched men being cut down, blood showering the ground like rain. It was a horrifying sight, but she wouldn’t look away. Or rather, she couldn’t. She needed to know exactly when she needed to bring the second wave in. When she was certain that they were needed, that was when they would go.

It wasn’t long before she felt it was time. Raising her arm in the air, she waited a fraction of a second before motioning to the battle in front of them. “GO!” She bellowed. Her horse neighed loudly and galloped down the hill as fast as its legs could take it. The men yelled behind her, following suit.

Her blood roared in her ears as she rushed into the struggle, her sword swinging at a Lannister soldier, slicing his throat. The yells all seemed to meld into one loud hum in the background as she continued on, cutting down men she could get to, blood splashing onto her armor.

It didn’t seem like much time passed when they began to retreat. Aliser pulled on the reins to stop the horse, sheathing her sword. They had actually come out on top. The hoots and hollers rang in her ears as she looked around at the men who were still standing. The number had dropped, but not as drastically as Aliser had thought. A bit of a smile tugged on her lips as she looked down at Dacey who was walking toward her. “It was just as I had hoped.” She said, sliding off of the horse so she was standing in front of her co-commander. “Celebrate… I think that might be in order.” She said as she took the reins in her hand and held her other out to her. “I don’t think this would have been a successful battle had you not been around. So I thank you.




User Image
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHARLEN SNOW x
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNow there's no holding back ↙↙
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm making to ➸attack
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMy blood is ♪singing♪ with your voice
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI want to pour it out
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe saints can't help me now ☁
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe ropes have been✄ u n b o u n d
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI hunt for you with bloody feet across the ◡hallow'd◡ g r o u n d


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAnd ◣H O W L◥xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


(Ooc: I... will write something for her soon. She's just kind of, you know, making ehr way south and stuff)
Tune Mizu's avatar

Sparkly Shapeshifter

8,700 Points
  • Millionaire 200
  • Friendly 100
  • Tycoon 200
                xxxxxxxxx "Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away, WHERE INNOCENCE IS BURNED... IN FLAMES.
                xxxxxxxxxx A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. » I'm frozen to the bones, (I AM)
                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆ : A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights... OF SHAME.
                xxxxxxxxxx I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. » I'm ready for the fight... and fate."


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                                  Aliser looked slightly shaken, but she was hiding it well from almost everyone except her. She couldn’t hide anything from another woman. Dacey said nothing, though, and smiled as she took the offered hand. “There’s no need to thank me my Lady. It was a pleasure to serve” Dacey’s squired appeared at her side and she handed him her sword so that he could wipe it clean. When the blade shone free of blood, she sheathed it, thanking him softly and taking a second to evaluate his condition; he too looked shaken, but he was hiding it less effectively… He was only a boy of fourteen, though, so she really couldn’t expect anything less.

                                  “Go and sit down boy before you pass out…” She laughed when he nodded almost immediately, as pale as a ghost.

                                  “My ladies! Riders on the hill!”

                                  Dacey’s head shot up and looked to where the soldier was pointing; three riders were coming down the hill, though they carried no banners or sigils that could identify them. Had they been watching the battle? Then why come now when it was over? Perhaps to loot the bodies… Perhaps to join their ranks. It was no secret that all the sides of this war needed good men, and they had already been approached by several men willing to sell their swords.

                                  “What are your orders?”

                                  She grunted and waved the soldier on. “Go greet them. Tell ‘em that if they’ve come to raid the bodies they’ll have to wait till we leave, but bring them to the camp if they’ve come to join King Stark’s armies. They can pledge to either myself or Lady Aliser, or Lord Stark if they’re not impatient to get their coin, and we’ll see them to the camp. Either way… Keep the peace. I don’t want non-Lannister blood on our blades.”

                                  Dacey turned to Aliser again and motioned for them to walk back to camp. “Come my Lady… The men will have baths prepared and we can wash this stink off before we celebrate. I heard one of the men who went into the Lannister camp that they found barrels of fine wine; we’ll drink well tonight.”



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Glitchitty's avatar

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"Don' ride so bloody fast, else they'll think we're attackin'," Aeron growled. "An' fer s**t's sake, take yer 'and off yer sword, boy!" Gil immediately took his hand from the hilt of his blade, returning it to the reins. Gods, but these boys could be daft. You couldn't just approach men armed to the teeth without a lick of caution, no matter your intentions. They could've been Lannister scouts just as easily as freeriders, after all. Granted, they'd have to be bloody useless scouts to be riding straight towards the enemy, but still... the battle had only just ended, and blood was no doubt running hot.

"Whoa now," Jeff said, slowing up his mount. "We've got company. Let's slow up. Hail them." There were indeed several mounted soldiers approaching them. The small company slowed up, letting the northmen approach on their own terms. "Hail!" Gil called, raising a hand to them. "Stark forces?"

The riders approached, spears drawn and pointed skyward. The man at their front spoke once they slowed before the small group. "We serve the king in the north, aye. Under house Mormont's banner. And you?"

Gil gave a wide, toothy grin. "Knights, ser. Looking to offer our services to the king in the north."

The soldier eyed the three of them with a furrowed brow, a frown forming beneath his thick white beard. "Knights indeed. Of the hedge variety, mayhaps..." He said the word "hedge" like a particularly nasty curse, but shook his head. "Regardless. If it's coin your after, we've got the lady Dacey Mormont on hand to take your oaths, as well as lady Aliser Bolton. If you'd rather meet the king, it can be arranged, though it will take some time."

Aeron was biting his tongue so hard he could swear he tasted blood. The king in the north was putting women in charge of his forces, was he? By the drowned one, this was getting more and more absurd by the minute. While he fought back sneers and laughter, Jeff took over. "We'll see your lady Mormont, then."

The soldier looked over the three, then nodded his head slowly. "Right then. This way, if you would. We'll see your horses cared for while you speak with her."

Soon enough, the three were dismounted and led into the camp, the festivities getting well under way. From the looks of it, a few barrels of Lannister wine had been pilfered from the wreckage of their camps, and were being put to good use. They passed a small group of men jokingly singing the Rains of Castamere in "thanks" to the Lannisters for being so generous in parting with the drink. Soon, they were brought before the lady Mormont, and the soldier spoke. "I've brought the riders, m'lady."
Tune Mizu's avatar

Sparkly Shapeshifter

8,700 Points
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  • Friendly 100
  • Tycoon 200
                xxxxxxxxx "Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away, WHERE INNOCENCE IS BURNED... IN FLAMES.
                xxxxxxxxxx A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. » I'm frozen to the bones, (I AM)
                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆ : A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights... OF SHAME.
                xxxxxxxxxx I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. » I'm ready for the fight... and fate."


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                                  The walk back to the camp did not take very long at all, and soon Dacey and Lady Aliser were announcing their remaining forces of their victory. A raven was summoned at once to carry the news to their king and Dacey called for a round of drinks outside of her tent after she’d taken a proper bath. She shed her armor as soon as she had a moment of privacy and pulled off her tunic and lambskin breeches, kicking off her boots before dipping into the tub. She sighed softly as the warm water melted the blood and grit off her skin, rubbing sweet smelling oils into her skin. Despite being a warrior, she was also a lady and liked to keep herself clean.

                                  She dressed in a deep green gown and cloak trimmed with fox fur when dry, and pulled her hair back into proper braids once again. The tub had been taken from her tent and she was joined by several of her knights while they discussed what to do with the few Lannister soldiers they’d captured, when another man stepped inside.

                                  “I’ve brought the riders, m’Lady.”

                                  Dacey turned slightly from the group, running her eyes over the three men presented to her. They looked… less than proper knights, but these days, they needed all the men they could get. Two were still young looking and the older one was giving her a nasty look Dacey was familiar with; many men doubted her abilities.

                                  “Thank you, dismissed.” She waved away the Mormont knights, though the men left begrudgingly. They did not trust these strangers around their lady. As soon as they were gone, Dacey leaned back against the table covered with maps, her arms crossed over her chest. “So… You’ve come to pledge your sword to House Mormont? We’ll be happy to have you, if you prove that you can handle the swords you carry.”

                                  Dacey smirked, eying the older man. He looked… familiar. She knew that she had never seen his face before, but his features were close to those of the men born on the Iron Islands. “You’ll be given three meals a day and a warm place to sleep. We’ll care for your horses and there are smiths in the camp to repair your armor and weapons should they be damaged. Each month you’ll receive forty pieces of silver so long as you fight; if you’re injured, we have plenty of maesters, though you won’t be paid as much while you heal.”

                                  She glanced to the two other men, studying their young faces. Had they ever seen real battle before? “There are only a few rules in this camp, and you’ll follow them or I’ll kill you personally. No thieving, no rape, and no fighting. If you run from battle, then you’ll be locked up if captured until we can arrange a trial… If you agree to these terms, then welcome to the ranks of House Mormont…”



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flanne's avatar

Dapper Gekko

User Image
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxALISER BOLTON xxxxxxxxxxxx
The stars ✫
xxxxxxxxThe moon
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThey have all been ☁blown o u t
xxxxxxxxxxxxYou left me in the DARK
xxxxxxxNo dawn
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNo d a y
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm always in this twilight
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxIn the S H A D O W of your heartxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Aliser had returned to camp not long after she had finished her conversation with Dacey, and left her horse to one of the other guards, returning to her tent. As Dacey had said, a bath had been prepared for her. She had simply dumped her armor, tunic, and breeches on the ground next to it before she sank into the water, washing herself off quickly. She had never seen a reason to act as a lady. After growing up around her lord father, she had thrown that out the window, becoming more boy-ish each day. It suited her better, in her opinion. She had no man to impress.

Quickly scrubbing her hair, she stepped out of the tub and dried herself off before donning a fresh set of small clothes, along with a clean pair of breeches and a tunic. She decided to leave her armor where it was, and slipped her feet into her worn leather boots. She would rather be comfortable for the celebration to come. Sitting herself down at her table, Aliser unrolled the map of the south she had been looking at only a few hours ago, and studied each section. It wouldn’t be long before they had to plan their next attack, and she just wanted to be ready.

The noise outside kept her from focusing any longer, though. It had only been a few moments before she rolled the parchment back up and set it aside. Leaving her tent, she wandered the camp for a moment, conversing with a few of the men as she passed, only to fall silent when she spotted Dacey with unfamiliar faces. Eyebrows pulling together, she closed the gap that was between her and the group of people, stopping when she reached her co-commander’s side. Studying the men, she frowned. No sigils of any sort from what she could see.

What’ve we got here?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She hadn’t been informed of any new recruits being sent, so seeing these men surprised her. Or maybe they were just men for hire, keeping themselves where they would be getting paid. Men like them always made her nervous, but it didn’t seem to concern her in any way, so she wouldn’t stick her nose in Dacey’s business. She should have just walked away, maybe find a nice cup of wine and the company of some of the other men. But no, she simply stood there with wondering eyes, her lips set in a straight line.

So… about that wine.” She said after an uncomfortable pause, unsure on what to say exactly. “You did promise me.” She directed those words to Dacey, but kept her eyes on the three men. “If you three would maybe care to join us?




User Image
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHARLEN SNOW x
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNow there's no holding back ↙↙
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm making to ➸attack
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMy blood is ♪singing♪ with your voice
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI want to pour it out
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe saints can't help me now ☁
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe ropes have been✄ u n b o u n d
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI hunt for you with bloody feet across the ◡hallow'd◡ g r o u n d


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAnd ◣H O W L◥xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


(Ooc: SHE'S STILL ON HER WAY)
Glitchitty's avatar

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Forty silver pieces a month. Well, that was more than any of them were making before, at least. Aeron, maybe, had had better business at his forge once upon a time, but with Cersei Lannister threatening to maim smiths who didn't work twice as hard at half the price for her brat-king, this was likely the better option for him. More entertaining, too, considering he'd get to carve some Lannisters. The Ironborn's eyes were busy sizing up the woman before him, a hard edge to them. He'd heard tell that even the women of Bear Island were warriors, much like women born on the Iron Islands, but until he saw proof of it, he'd not believe it. Any lout could carry a sword and call themselves a warrior. Especially here in Westeros proper, where noble ladies lived pampered lives... no, this girl had much to prove to him.

Gil, though? Gil was wholeheartedly convinced. So, with the promise of glory nestled in his young heart, he eagerly plowed forward, a grin on his face. "We'll take it!" Aeron's eyes flicked towards him, and he exhaled a long breath through his nose, scratching it lightly with a thick finger. "Aye. S'pose so." The tone of his voice suggested he was less than thrilled... but, silver was silver, and dead Lannisters were always a joy. Jeff was silent, but the expression on his face at the sum was like he'd been told his nameday was now everyday. Forty silver was no sum to sneeze at. Combine that with the fact that he could get plenty of tips from soldiers for his bard work... this could actually work.

Another woman entered the room, and Jeff quickly surmised who she must be just as Gil said "Consider us your sworn men." The Bolton woman. Why else would she be standing there in such a commanding fashion? The thought made him shudder inwardly; the gods only knew what the Boltons would do to him if they discovered his desertion of the Wall. The flayed man was not simply a banner, it was a way of life for them. Aeron, meanwhile, couldn't decide which to stare down, settling with flicking his eyes back and forth between the pair. Jeff, however, perked up immediately at the offer of sweet, sweet wine. They'd had little more to drink than stream water and Aeron's bitter grog since leaving King's Landing. "Wine sounds lovely," he chimed in, offering the Bolton woman a winning smile. Jeff was, after all, a fool for sweet wine and lovely women.

"Of course," Gil answered. "A drink, to our new hosts and employers!"

Aeron just grunted a short "Aye." Leave it to women and green boys to take wine over proper ale.
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                xxxxxxxxx "Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away, WHERE INNOCENCE IS BURNED... IN FLAMES.
                xxxxxxxxxx A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. » I'm frozen to the bones, (I AM)
                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆ : A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights... OF SHAME.
                xxxxxxxxxx I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. » I'm ready for the fight... and fate."


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                                  So she had three new sworn men, eh? The older man didn’t look too happy about the eagerness of his two companions, which earned him a small chuckled from Dacey. It would be interesting to hear how these three came together…

                                  “Lady Aliser.” If the men hadn’t known who she was before, they knew the Bolton heir now as Dacey straightened, giving her commanding lady a small curtsey before Aliser proposed a drink. The boys seemed happy to accept her invitation, and Dacey poured a goblet for each of them. Unlike the ones hollowed out from some piece of wood, her goblets were metal and smooth, fine though they lacked ornate jewels or decoration.

                                  “My lady, these three knights are the newest additions to House Mormont. They look forward to riding with you and I into battle.” She gave Aliser as drink first, ever mindful that even though she may take liberties when speaking to Aliser, the other, younger girl was still from a greater house and thus outranked her. She needed to show respect in front of new recruits, less they think badly of their newly blooded commander.

                                  Next she handed wine to the two younger knights, giving them a wide smile at the happy looks on their faces. Too young to have seen real battle yet… Too green. For the older man, though, Dacey reached underneath the table, pulling out a small jug that looked like it had seen better days. “A stronger drink for you and I, good ser?” He hadn’t looked too pleased at the idea of drinking wine, and her smile turned to a smirk when she passed him his goblet of ale brought all the way from Bear Island.

                                  “By the way… Don’t you think that the ladies you now serve should know your names? Proper knights should introduce themselves before they partake of drink from a woman’s table.”



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flanne's avatar

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxALISER BOLTON xxxxxxxxxxxx
The stars ✫
xxxxxxxxThe moon
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThey have all been ☁blown o u t
xxxxxxxxxxxxYou left me in the DARK
xxxxxxxNo dawn
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxNo d a y
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm always in this twilight
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxIn the S H A D O W of your heartxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx




Taking the goblet from Dacey, Aliser nodded her thanks as she took a swig of the rich wine. Gulping down about half of it, she twisted the cup between her hands as she took in the appearance of each man. Two of them looked so young compared to the bearded man. It made her wonder how they ever found each other. She was sure to find out within time, seeing as they would be around for quite a while. That is, unless they were to die in battle. She couldn’t help but hope not. The three of them seemed to be good company, save the older man, who didn’t seem too interested in just about anything.

I would hope that they’d be looking forward to it, otherwise they wouldn’t be standing before us currently, would they?” Aliser said with a coy smile, taking another sip from her goblet. “Unless you fine gentlemen are simply in it for the silver?” She questioned, her eyebrows raised. It was mainly a joke, but she couldn’t help but wonder if that really was the case. Shaking her head, she waved the question off before continuing, “Anyhow, hopefully we’ll be able to rely on you. Good men can be hard to come by.” She hadn’t meant for it to sound rude, but after she had said it, she somewhat regretted it. There wasn’t much she could really do to erase what she had said, so she tried to ignore it, looking away from the men. She simply focused on her goblet, and how the wine was just about gone.

Dacey brought up a good point. Here these men were being offered wine, and they didn’t even know their names. Aliser would have thought that it might have come up before she had even shown up. Turning her head slightly to look at the men from the corner of her eye, she waited.

Well, out with it then. Who exactly are you?” She asked, her eyebrows pulling together in frustration. She was never good with waiting. Her father had always told her how that was her most endearing quality.

(Ooc: A bit of a small post... bah D': )
Glitchitty's avatar

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So, Jeff was right. This woman was indeed the lady Bolton. Luckily for him, there wasn't much chance of being recognized as a former black brother... else he'd likely be treated to a slow, painful demise. Instead, he found himself accepting wine from lady Mormont. "Ser Jeffrey Willem, m'lady," he said with every ounce of gallantry he could muster. Granted, there wasn't much, but he tried. "A pleasure to meet the both of you."

"Ser Gilliam Snow," Gil said in response, hesitantly sipping at the wine. He may have been a lord's b*****d, but that didn't mean he had any sense of courtly discipline. The young hedge knight regretted that now; was he supposed to drink, or wait to drink with them, or... oh gods, he'd already drank. Stupid Gil, stupid! He found himself clutching the goblet, taking a hesitant seat at the table. Nobody had told him to be prepared to drink with proper ladies; he was used to drinking with Gil and Aeron, which consisted of mostly bawdy jokes and overindulgence.

Aeron, however, had no such worries of fragile, courtly sensibilities. He plopped down at the table, arms crossed as he leaned on his elbows and waited for a goblet of sweet wine that'd get him about as drunk as water. So imagine his surprise when the Mormont lass passed him a mug of ale. Dark, thick, bitter. A proper man's drink. It got the first smile out of him she'd see. "Well I'll be damned... ale. Name's Aeron. Er... Ser Aeron Polbrook." That was rich, calling themselves "ser". No lord in his right mind would have knighted the green boys, that was true... and Aeron? He was about as far from a proper knight as you could get. Of course, knights like in the songs didn't exist. They were all gits like that Kingslayer, or the Gregor Clegane, or some other monster. "Thank ya, m'ladies," he said, raising his goblet to Dacey and Aliser before quaffing a big mouthful of ale.
Tune Mizu's avatar

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                xxxxxxxxx "Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away, WHERE INNOCENCE IS BURNED... IN FLAMES.
                xxxxxxxxxx A million miles from home, I'm walking ahead. » I'm frozen to the bones, (I AM)
                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆ : A soldier on my own, I don't know the way. I'm riding up the heights... OF SHAME.
                xxxxxxxxxx I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest. » I'm ready for the fight... and fate."


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                                  Ser Jeffrey Willem… He wasn’t much of a knight and he certainly had few courtly graces, but he had a smooth tongue and Dacey could tell he’d courted women before. He held himself a bit more… oh what was the word? ‘Higher’? Yes, that; he held himself a little higher than the next green looking boy, Ser Gilliam Snow…

                                  His name gave away his Northern birth right away. If he didn’t have a b*****d’s name, Dacey would have guessed him from the south by his lighter hair, but the shape of his jaw… Now that was familiar. It greatly resembled the jaw of a man who’d tried and failed to court her, but Dacey didn’t say anything. She only put on a coy, courtly smile. He looked nervous, though, so she softened it, not wanting to put him on edge. It didn’t matter to Dacey whether he was a b*****d or not, or who his father was at all… By all rights, she too was a b*****d, though her House’s tradition and an uncaring King Robert had allowed the Mormonts to get away with much.

                                  Ser Aeron Polbrook… A sour man who cheered right up as soon as Dacey gave him ale. She still thought him Ironborn, but if she was willing to overlook Gilliam’s birth, then she could put up with an man from the Iron Islands in her army. “The pleasure is all ours. Tis not often that ladies such as us find ourselves in the presence of such… interesting knights.” Dacey chuckled softly, sipping her ale slowly. She’d sat at the table, situated between Gilliam and Aeron. “So tell us about yourselves.” She turned to Gilliam specifically, her hands loosely holding her goblet off the table. “Ser Gilliam… Do you have any family? You’re from the North, that much I can tell… But it doesn’t look like you’ve lived there.”



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