Return of House Mudd

The time in between

It had been several moons since Hadrian had tasked Tomlin with finding the workers he needed, and now, as the first moon of 278 AC began, he could see the fruits of his efforts beginning to take shape. The villages under his protection had been steadily improving, not just in their agriculture but in their overall prosperity and security.

Every village now possessed at least one mouldboard plow and a heavy plow, and some had several, depending on their needs. These innovations, combined with the knowledge of crop rotation that Hadrian had ensured was spread among his smallfolk, had led to significant increases in food production. More food meant healthier people, and healthier people meant stronger workers, soldiers, and craftsmen.

The improvements in farming had also made the villagers more accepting of the taxes they had once begrudged under previous lords. In the past, they had been required to pay much higher dues, struggling under the weight of heavy levies that drained them of their hard-earned harvests and coin. Now, however, with Hadrian as their overlord, they paid only one gold dragon per month. This amount, while still a tax, was manageable—especially now that their agricultural efficiency had increased. The people no longer felt oppressed; they felt protected. Hadrian's fair rule, combined with these advancements, was slowly but surely securing the loyalty of his smallfolk.

The efficiency of these new farming methods had another unexpected benefit: fewer men were needed to cultivate the same amount of land. This surplus labor created opportunities for expansion. Some villages took advantage of this by clearing new fields, extending their farmland to produce even more crops. Others found themselves with an excess of able-bodied men who no longer needed to till the earth to survive.

Rather than let these men sit idle or, worse, leave in search of employment elsewhere, Hadrian saw an opportunity. He began recruiting them into his forces, offering them the chance to train as scouts, messengers, and warriors under his banner. While they were not yet professional soldiers, they were strong, determined, and eager to serve a lord who had already improved their lives.

Sitting in his solar, Hadrian reviewed the latest reports from his men. His mounted force had now grown to approximately 300 riders. It was not a massive army by any means, but for a single high lord, it was an impressive number—especially considering that cavalry forces were traditionally much smaller than foot soldiers, archers, or spearmen.

To support this growing force, Hadrian had struck a deal with Lord Bracken, purchasing 500 horses. He had been careful in his selection, ensuring that the animals were of good stock, strong enough for both scouting missions and battle. These horses, once fully trained and equipped, would become the backbone of his cavalry force.

His blacksmiths and leatherworkers had been put to work crafting the necessary equipment. Saddles, reins, and stirrups were fashioned with care, designed to provide stability and control in the heat of battle. Horse armor was also being produced—lamellar barding to protect the animals during charges and skirmishes. The men, too, needed proper gear. While they could not yet be equipped like the knights of the great houses, they would be well-armed and well-armored for their roles.

Hadrian had devised a dual purpose for his cavalry. When patrolling the lands, they would function as scouts—lightly equipped and agile, capable of moving swiftly through forests, hills, and open terrain to detect threats before they reached his borders. In this role, they would carry only chainmail armor, a helmet, and light protective plating for their hands. Their primary weapons would be a sword and a shield, allowing them to defend themselves in close combat while maintaining mobility.

However, when called to war, they would transform into a force of heavy cavalry. In battle, they would don full chainmail, reinforced with heavier plates on the shoulders and arms. Their horses would be clad in lamellar armor, giving them the durability needed to withstand enemy attacks. Each rider would carry a spear in addition to their sword and shield, ensuring that they could deliver a devastating charge when needed.

Hadrian insisted that every piece of equipment, from the armor to the shields, bear the sigil of House Mudd. He wanted his enemies to recognize his men on the battlefield, to see the banners of the old kings of the Trident flying once more. House Mudd had long been thought extinct, its name reduced to whispers of history, but Hadrian intended to change that. He was not merely a lord governing a few villages—he was a man with ambition, a man who saw a future where his house would rise once again.

His cavalry would be the first step toward that future.

Of course, training such a force required more than just weapons and armor. The men needed discipline, skill, and experience. Hadrian had no illusions about the difficulties ahead. Many of his recruits had never fought in battle before. Some had hunted or fought off the occasional bandit, but few knew the true demands of warfare. To ensure they were properly trained, he had sought out experienced riders and warriors to serve as instructors. These men, many of whom were seasoned mercenaries or former soldiers from neighboring lands, were given good pay and the promise of a place in Hadrian's growing court.

Under their guidance, the recruits learned the fundamentals of riding and combat. They drilled daily, practicing formation riding, spear thrusts, swordplay, and defensive maneuvers. The training was rigorous—many of the men were sore, bruised, and exhausted after each session—but they endured it, knowing that their efforts would secure their future and the future of their lord.

Beyond mere combat training, Hadrian also emphasized the importance of loyalty and duty. He spoke to his men often, ensuring they understood the purpose behind their service. He was not some distant overlord ruling from a grand castle; he was present, involved, and invested in their success. He rewarded those who showed promise and ensured that those who struggled received the guidance they needed to improve.

Over time, the cavalry began to take shape. The men no longer looked like simple farmers on horseback; they were warriors now, carrying themselves with the discipline and confidence of trained soldiers. Their patrols became more organized, their movements more precise. Reports of bandit activity dwindled as the mere presence of Hadrian's scouts discouraged lawless men from preying upon his lands.

Hadrian knew that this was only the beginning. His cavalry was still young, and there was much more to be done. But as he stood upon the battlements of his keep, watching his men ride across the fields below, he felt a sense of satisfaction. He was building something greater than himself—something that would last.

House Mudd had been forgotten for too long. Now, it was rising once more, and with every hoofbeat upon the earth, its name would echo across the Riverlands.

It was not only the men from Hadrian's own lands who came to him seeking a new life. Word of his fair rule and the prosperity of his people had spread beyond his borders, reaching ears in places where lords were not as just or as forward-thinking. One of those places was Duskendale, where the previous reign of Lord Darklyn had left many smallfolk disillusioned and desperate. With heavy taxes, little protection, and few opportunities for advancement, many had decided to leave their homes behind and seek out a new beginning elsewhere.

At first, only a few came—wandering laborers looking for work, farmers seeking better lands, and the occasional craftsman hoping to ply his trade in a more welcoming place. But as the stories of Hadrian's lands continued to spread, more followed. Not just men, but entire families. Whole households packed up their belongings and made the journey westward, seeking the promise of stability and prosperity under Hadrian's rule.

By the time the full wave of migration had settled, no fewer than 1,200 families had come to Hadrian's lands. If each family had an average of five mouths to feed, that meant roughly 6,000 people—a staggering influx of men, women, and children who needed homes, food, and work.

Hadrian had not anticipated such numbers, but neither was he unprepared. From the moment the first groups arrived, he and Adden—one of his most trusted advisors—had begun discussing where best to settle them. There was no question of turning them away; every able-bodied man, woman, and child was a potential asset to his growing domain. The challenge was finding the right places for them to thrive, ensuring that their presence strengthened his lands rather than overburdened them.

The most ambitious plan was to settle 700 of the families near the ruins of Oldstones, along the banks of the Blue Fork. Oldstones itself had once been the seat of House Mudd, and though its once-mighty castle was now little more than crumbling ruins, Hadrian saw its potential. The land around it was fertile, the river provided a natural trade route, and it could serve as the foundation for something much greater.

A new village would rise here—not only a farming settlement but a bustling river port. Although the Blue Fork was narrower here than it was farther south near Harrenhal, it was still wide enough to support trade. Hadrian's scouts had estimated that at least four trading ships could fit side by side along its banks, meaning it could serve as a hub for commerce. Goods from the Riverlands could be transported south toward Saltpans or north toward Seagard, strengthening trade ties and increasing wealth.

But building such a village would take time. The families who settled here would need to start from scratch—clearing land for farms, constructing homes, and laying the groundwork for the port itself. Skilled workers were in short supply, but Hadrian had made arrangements to bring in stonemasons, carpenters, and shipwrights to help guide the process. It would take years before the village became a true center of trade, but in time, it would flourish.

To encourage settlers to stay and invest in their new home, Hadrian offered generous terms:

Low taxes for the first five years, allowing families to establish themselves without financial strain.Land grants for those who proved their loyalty and contributed to the settlement's success.Access to resources, including tools, livestock, and seeds, to help them get started.

The promise of a better life was enough to convince the settlers. They set to work with determination, felling trees, tilling soil, and laying the foundations of what would one day become a thriving river town.

While Oldstones would be the largest of the new settlements, it was not the only one. Hadrian had received reports from his scouts about two newly discovered mineral deposits—one in the hills north of the Blue Fork, the other to the east near the border of his lands. These discoveries were too valuable to ignore.

The first site contained iron and emerald deposits—both crucial to Hadrian's plans. Iron would provide the raw materials needed to outfit his growing army, ensuring that his cavalry, infantry, and smiths never lacked for weapons or armor. Emeralds, on the other hand, were a luxury good that could be traded at a high price, bringing in wealth to fund his ambitions.

To develop these resources, 250 families were sent to settle between the two mines. Their role was twofold: some would work in the mines, extracting the valuable ores and gemstones, while others would farm the surrounding land and support the growing community. The settlement would need roads, storehouses, and smithies to refine the iron into usable tools and weapons.

The second mining site, farther to the east, was even more valuable—it held gold and silver veins. If properly developed, this mine could become a steady source of coin, funding Hadrian's expansions, his army, and his infrastructure. Another 250 families were settled here, tasked with building a village to support the miners and setting up the necessary facilities to extract and refine the precious metals.

Mining was dangerous work, and Hadrian knew it would take time before these settlements became profitable. To ensure their safety, he sent a small contingent of his newly trained cavalry to patrol the roads leading to and from the mines. Bandits would undoubtedly seek to prey on such a rich target, but with mounted scouts keeping watch, any attack would be met with swift retaliation.

With so many new people arriving in his lands, Hadrian faced logistical challenges he had never encountered before. Food supplies had to be carefully managed, roads had to be improved to connect the new villages, and law and order had to be maintained. He appointed overseers in each of the settlements, men who would report directly to him and ensure that everything ran smoothly.

One of the biggest concerns was winter. Though it was still many moons away, Hadrian knew that if his new settlements did not prepare adequately, they would suffer when the cold months arrived. He ordered large granaries to be built in each of the new villages and stockpiled supplies from his more established lands to be distributed if necessary.

Beyond practical concerns, Hadrian also had to think about the political implications of his growing power. His domain was expanding, his population was increasing, and his wealth was growing. Other lords in the Riverlands would take notice. Some might see him as a rising power to align with, while others might view him as a threat.

He would need alliances.

He had already begun making overtures to neighboring lords, offering trade agreements and mutual defense pacts. Lord Bracken had been a valuable trading partner, selling him the 500 horses needed for his cavalry. Perhaps an even closer alliance could be forged there.

And then there was the matter of Oldstones itself. The castle, though in ruins, still held historical significance. House Mudd had once ruled from its halls, and Hadrian bore their name. Rebuilding it would not only provide him with a stronghold in the west but also send a clear message:

House Mudd was not dead. It was rising again.

As he sat in his solar, poring over reports and maps, Hadrian allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction. His lands were growing. His people were thriving. His forces were expanding.

But there was still much to do.

He was no longer just a small lord overseeing a handful of villages. He was building something greater—something that could, in time, challenge the great houses of Westeros.

For now, he would focus on the work ahead. The future belonged to those who seized it, and Hadrian had no intention of letting this opportunity slip away.