9th Day of the 5th Moon, 383 AC

Mountains of the Moon

Donnahal was, to put it mildly, somewhat surprised.

When the Griffin King had, a day after sending one of his Oathsworn, Eiric, down to the lowlands to seek negotiations with the Falcon Lord, declared before all the chieftains and magnars under his influence that he would be seeking out a woman to wed, Donnahal had been expecting to be buried under a pile every eligible daughter in the Mountains of the Moon.

As it turned out, eligible clanswomen were lacking at the moment.

It only makes sense for the Gods to curse me so, Donnal lamented, somewhat amused. In slowly assimilating the clans into the Kingdom of the Hill, he had inadvertently sparked a betrothal race amongst the chieftains, not wishing to be left out of the power shift. Daughters and widows were married off as quickly as possible between the clans, cementing the cohesiveness of his paramountcy, which he had desperately needed at that time.

And, in reward for his prudence, Donnahal was being forced to traverse the Mountains of the Moon in search of a daughter that wasn’t a child barely past her first moonblood.

No doubt the Griffin Kings of old were laughing at him from beyond the grave,

As much the Griffin King disliked having to journey from oppidum to oppidum, however, Donnahal knew that securing his bloodline was a necessity that he could no longer ignore. The clansmen he had hidden amongst the smallfolk in the lowlands were reporting strange tidings and rumors floating about. Ones of the Andal Queen’s advisors dead in her own capital, and Essosi threats being exchanged overseas.

Whispers of another King of the First Men from the marshes.

Whatever peace had existed after the end of the War of the Last Dragon had started to rot away, and at this rate, Donnahal had no doubt that conflict would break out by year’s-end. If that was the case, then the oppidums would need to be fortified, the negotiations with the Falcon Lord settled, and the succession to Clan Redsmith secured.

And to secure his succession, he needed a wife, which had finally brought him up to the Stone Crow oppidum.

Which was why he was surprised to finally, finally, find an eligible women to wed-- and not a bad looking one, to boot.

Wide hips, large bosom, good features… by the Gods, what is she doing all the way up here?

Gwenna, as the woman was named, was a pleasant conversationalist, Donnahal was pleased to find out. During his time with the Stone Crows, they often set out for rides through the mountain paths, speaking of all manner of things; from news from the lowlands to the hardships of ruling, and the Griffin King found her opinions and thoughts on the subjects enlightening.

After having spent a week getting to know Gwenna, he pulled her aside during a feast one night, and brought up the subject of marriage, and was pleased to learn that she was in no way opposed, and they spent the rest of the night in her chambers.

So it was that, the next day, Donnahal announced his betrothal to Gwenna of the Stone Crows, daughter of Ambior, son of Shagga, to the great elation of the Stone Crows, and the two betrothed were treated to a large feast that very night, filled with meat, mead, and dancing.

The next day, having secured his bride, Donnahal, alongside Gwenna and her retinue, set out for the Redsmith oppidum, all the while sending riders to all the Clans of the mountains announcing the betrothal and coming wedding.

And, finally, when the chieftains had arrived, the two betrothed were escorted to the Redsmith weirwood tree, and there they wed under the eyes of the Old Gods.

Donnahal went to sleep that night basking in the afterglow.

The succession would be secured. Peace would be made with the Eyrie.

And-- Gods be good-- all would be well.