The Egen army came to a stop before large thick stone walls and towers blocking the mountain pass. In the distance atop a mountain and just above a parting fog, was a cluster of white towers reaching towards the sky. “That is the Eyrie, my friend. It sits upon the Giant’s Lance… Rōvala, yes? And before us now is the Gates of the Moon. The Arryns’ winter castle. We’ll leave the men here and you and I will ride up to the Eyrie. If you thought the Fingers were cold, my friend, just wait until you feel the chill of the mountains of the moon.” They began to ride forward. “I tell you, my friend, I would bet all the gold in the Iron Bank on the Eyrie over the walls of Qarth. Long after the red waste has swallowed that city, the Eyrie will sit atop the Giant’s Lance.”

First they passed through a deep forest, the scurry of squirrels and other little critters coming from all around. The deeper they go, the thicker the tree cover becomes, until they can scarce see the Giant’s Lance in the distance. Eventually, Vardis and Aeradhor come to a thick iron gate bound by two portly towers. “Stone.” Vardis explained, “the first waycastle. It only goes uphill from here, friend.”

The next fortification they came across was a lone tower, nestled into the cliff face of striated and ancient rock. A small keep hugged the tower, and the pass narrowed as it continued to climb. It was here that the trees fell away, and the wind began to whip their cloaks. Vardis drew his tight. Patches of snowcapped large boulders along the path. “This is Snow. The second waycastle. Watch your horse’s footing as we continue”

Their progression grew slow. The ground was rocky and pockmarked with the cracks of ice and rockfalls. The horses were nervous, and at times Vardis and Aeradhor rode single file. The wind picked up, and an ice-cold rain began to pelt the two men. In the distance, a wall of rock loomed. Men wearing the Arryn sigil manned the battlements. Vardis reigned his horse in and dismounted. “We proceed on foot, my friend. This is Sky. If an army has reached here…” he feigns a sorrow look, before laughing, “the Eyrie will still remain untouched. Do you wish to ascend the lance by hand, or by basket?”

(They arrive one way or another, sectioned RP in the comments, mostly to separate locales, open RP with Eyrie folk at the bottom)