[center][color=steelblue][h3]Ellion Arryn - The Eyrie[/h3][/color]
[img]http://awoiaf.westeros.org/images/thumb/5/59/The_Eyrie.jpg/625px-The_Eyrie.jpg[/img][/center]

“Gone,
           gone,
                       gone are the days…”

The morose song of his yet younger sibling faintly drifted through, but with the door firmly shut, the whispery scratching of the quill to paper put it out of his mind. The sound came through the open window, but did not linger past what was welcome. Arecel hadn’t been taking the death of the King well for the past few days, and had taken to playing her instrument at her window in a melancholic fashion...or else directly in front of the door of his quarters. Much of the same after his father passed on. Troubling, but such behavior mattered little to him, not after receiving that messages from Lords Paramount, Tyget Crakehall and Garland Tyrell. Of course there would be time later to pay their respects to the fallen good king, but not now. The Queen Dowager was dead, so soon after the King. Daenys Targaryen was in the perfect spot to be a suspect of such things, but not all of the facts seemed to come to light, so judgement on this matter was [i]reserved[/i]. But only just. 

Candlelight coming from just his right, warmly bathing the paper in light as the heat off it warmed the side of his hand in a way that was not unpleasant. The wide window to his left, it had been left open after the the ravens, letting a thin chilly air roll through along with much cooler light. There had been no real confusion as to why they made it to his window rather than the rookery with Maester Sringer, as his window had markings left from when he first started training his personal falcons. That would need to be sorted out at another time. Without lifting his head, the familiar sound of wing flaps, the shadows in the natural flickered over the table, the particular ‘caw’…a, of course, a black feather drifting lazily onto the parchment. Bringing his free left hand up to his mouth, a clean forefinger and thumb between his lips, Ellion gave a sharp whistle without stopping the writing with his right hand.

With the falcons off and no longer heckling the young raven, the black bird hopped along the frame of the window, before entered into the room. Another letter to receive. Tearing icy eyes off the parchment on the desk, the quill previously in hand was now set down by the ink well, and pinching the message from the raven's led, the bird took off as he unfurled the piece. The lord gave himself a moment to reread the contents before letting out a breath through his nose. The piece of paper was set out beside the earlier received messages. Picking up the quill and setting back into writing return messages of his own, another piece of paper was brought out. The last message was a half lengthier than the others, but that would hardly be a hindrance. Finishing them up, Lord Arryn rose from the sturdy wood chair, going over to stand before the window.

Clean, chilling winds, mountains stretching to hide their points beneath the clouds, a view of the low valley...and a long drop. Bringing his thumb and forefinger to his mouth once more, he let out a keen whistle. But a few breaths later, great wingspans, proud and powerful birds of prey, a pity that ravens were the more common bird to use. Only three might sit at the window at any given moment, but that was the right number. It took only a moment to secure each message to a different bird, and sending them off. With the sun shining upon his face, Ellion watched the great raptors till they were nothing more than distant shapes in the sky, a hand adjusting the sleeve of his doublet. Arryn had not bothered signing any of the messages; the Lords Paramount should recognize one of his well-trained Vale falcons by sight.

[hider=Lord Paramount Tyget Crakehall]
Do as you like, but at present I have little interest in being anything but neutral in this matter.
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[hider=Lord Paramount Garland Tyrell]
As you will, Lord Hand. May the Seven guide you to the rightful Targaryen heir, and may they judge you accordingly thereafter.
[/hider]
[hider= Lord Paramount Jullon Tully]
The current situation has yet to become quite so precarious, but this is yet more reason to be prepared for the worse yet to come. Believe me; it would be most regrettable for the Riverlands to suffer just outside the Vale. It is with this in mind that I must extend the same invitation to you. Come to the Eyrie when it is convenient, so we may confer on what steps may need to come next.
[/hider]