Like many noble keeps built for both defense and oversight, Arthur's small Bracken stronghold was perched atop a wooded hill just west of the Red Fork. Its stone walls were modest compared to Harrenhal or Riverrun, but it had all the essentials: a watchtower, storerooms, living quarters for retainers and servants, and a hard-packed training yard where steel clanged every morning.
It was from there that Arthur mustered the Bracken household guard. The thirty-five soldiers sworn to House Bracken assembled quickly, their gear neatly maintained—mail hauberks, kettle helms, and Bracken shields bearing the red stallion sigil.
Including Arthur himself, Ser Yule, the grizzled household captain, Gray Robe Amber the steward, and six peasant volunteers from Riverside Village, the war band now numbered forty-three.
If they passed through villages still loyal to House Bracken—like Stone Hedge or Muddy Hollow—they could levy more peasants. With a force this size, chasing off a dozen ragged, poorly-armed bandits should be straightforward.
After a quick discussion in the yard, Arthur ordered eight men to remain behind to defend the keep. The remaining thirty-four followed him eastward toward Riverside Village.
Riverside lay not far from Breckenburg, just a few miles east along a woodland trail. To pursue the raiders, the party needed to start from the village and pick up their trail. If the bandits weren't all mounted, they wouldn't have gotten far.
Dawn had barely broken. A rising mist clung to the earth like pale smoke. If the raiders lingered near the northern shore of the God's Eye, there was still time to catch them.
Jules, now clad in chainmail and muttering about his aching joints, had hoped to stay behind and mind the keep. But Arthur insisted on bringing him along, arguing that he needed every experienced sword he could get.
There were seven horses total. Only Arthur rode; the others were used as pack animals or led by hand to preserve their strength. The rest trudged on foot, boots squelching in the Riverlands' damp soil. The heat and humidity of the Red Fork's wetlands soon had Arthur sweating beneath his gambeson.
[Arthur Bracken (100%), Yule (80%), Amber (100%), Riverlands Sergeant (27), Riverlands Farmer (6)]
"My lord, what's our plan?" asked Darren, a spirited youth from Riverside. Seeing Arthur wasn't the stern type, Darren jogged up beside his horse.
Arthur, deep in thought while scanning the army interface, was caught off guard. "The plan is… well, we'll act according to circumstances," he said, waving vaguely.
Darren frowned, confused. "Don't you have like, you know, a formation? Like who scouts ahead, who flanks, who cuts off retreat?"
His eyes shone with excitement—clearly he had imagined this was going to be something out of a knight's tale. It wasn't his fault. Every Riverlands boy grew up on stories of the Blackfish and Ser Barristan.
Arthur scratched his head. He had no detailed tactics—just a vague idea of chasing the bandits down. He hadn't even worked out how they'd track them past Riverside. They might follow the Red Fork all the way to the Trident's convergence without finding a trace.
Even if they reached the bandits' hideout, without proper planning, the raiders might escape with silver, grain, or worse—more captives.
It was time to get serious.
"Yule. Amber. Chief Jace. Come here."
The three men stepped out of the column and approached him. Arthur dismounted, wiping his brow.
"Do any of you have thoughts on tracking the bandits?" he asked.
They looked at each other. It was Jace who answered first.
"Once we reach Riverside, we follow the Red Fork east. Those bastards came that way. They'll leave prints, broken branches, signs of passage."
Amber, ever the practical steward, scoffed. "There's no cover near the river, only barley fields and open pasture. Bandits wouldn't stay near the banks during daylight—they'd be seen for miles."
Darren, still walking nearby, added, "God's Eye Lake lies south of the river, and we're on the north side. East of here is densely settled. If they ran east, they'd be spotted by now. They must've gone north, maybe toward the Whispering Wood or the foothills."
Arthur nodded. "So we think the bandits tried to mislead us—headed southeast at first, then circled north?"
Yule spat into the dirt. "What do I think? When your grandfather rode these lands, there weren't bandits bold enough to piss near a Bracken village, let alone sack one. But times have changed."
He shook his head, grumbling, "Too many young lords in Riverrun playing politics. Ever since the Tullys started worrying more about Lannisters and less about keeping roads safe, this whole region's gone soft."
Arthur considered Yule's words. He wasn't wrong. Since Lord Hoster's decline, and with Edmure Tully still learning command, the Riverlands had become vulnerable. Raiders from the mountains, broken men from the Stepstones, even deserters from the Vale—all drifted through this region now.
If the Brackens didn't start defending their people, no one else would.
Arthur looked north, where the hills rolled gently toward the edge of the forest.
"We'll move faster once we reach Riverside. From there, we divide into two parties: one to sweep the northern hills, the other to stay near the river in case they double back."
He glanced at Darren and added with a half-smile, "There's your plan."
Darren grinned, clearly thrilled. Yule grunted. Amber only nodded thoughtfully, already calculating supplies.
Arthur mounted again, the group pressing on. If the bandits thought the Brackens were still licking their wounds—they were in for a rude awakening.
The period Grandpa Arthur mentioned, as Yule recalled, should have been during the reign of King Aerys II Targaryen, known as the Mad King. In the earlier years of Aerys's rule, Tywin Lannister served as Hand of the King, and though Tywin was young, his capable governance brought peace and stability to the Seven Kingdoms. It was an era remembered by many, especially in the Riverlands, as one of rare order—banditry was crushed, taxes collected, and lords kept in line.
Even though the Rebellion of Robert Baratheon broke that peace, the Riverlands did not remain in chaos for long. After Robert claimed the Iron Throne and Jon Arryn became Hand, the region returned to a tenuous but real stability.
The Red Fork River, where Arthur's territory lay, runs through the heart of the Riverlands—flat, fertile land with ample rivers and tributaries. It's a region known for dense population, rich farmland, and productive craftwork, not lawlessness. In fact, the Red Fork region lies not far from Riverrun, the seat of House Tully, one of the Great Houses of Westeros. The Tullys maintained order, especially with their bannermen, such as House Bracken, under close watch.
For a bandit group of more than a dozen men to raid a village here was highly unusual. According to the memories Arthur inherited from his body's original owner, there hadn't been any major raids or bandit attacks in years. Neither the Tullys nor any neighboring lords had issued warnings or mobilized extra patrols. So where had these raiders come from?
Arthur frowned and muttered, "What, did they crawl out from under a rock?"
"Maybe from the mountains in the Vale of Arryn?" Darren offered, eyes wide with suggestion.
The village chief narrowed his gaze at the boy, annoyed at his presumptuousness in front of the lord. "That's nonsense," he said bluntly. "If they came from the Vale, they'd have to cross half the kingdom to get here. How would they pass through all the lords' lands, especially the rivers?"
Indeed, as Amber nodded and explained, the Green Fork, Blue Fork, and Red Fork Rivers are the three main tributaries of the Trident River, flowing roughly north to south. The only major crossing of the Green Fork is the Twins, the castle of House Frey—and Walder Frey would not let armed men pass through his gates for free, especially not common brigands.
Moreover, anyone moving from the Vale of Arryn would have to exit through the Bloody Gate, a fortified mountain pass manned by House Royce and their knights. From there, they'd need to follow the Kingsroad, cross the Ruby Ford, and then make their way into the Riverlands. That journey would be obvious, costly, and dangerous—especially for a large group of armed men without banners or support.
"The Ruby Ford was where Robert Baratheon himself slew Rhaegar," Arthur murmured, remembering the historic battle. "That crossing is heavily watched."
Darren was speechless. As a farmer, he knew little of maps or roads and even less of military geography.
"If they didn't come from the east or the Vale," Amber continued, "then perhaps the north? But that's even less likely. House Blackwood holds the land north of us, and they're no minor house."
Arthur nodded in agreement. House Blackwood, ancient rivals of House Bracken, was one of the most powerful families in the Riverlands. With their seat at Raventree Hall, they kept thousands of soldiers at the ready and patrolled their lands fiercely. Bandits wouldn't last a week in Blackwood territory.
"This doesn't make any sense," Arthur said. "How do bandits appear right after I inherit the castle? Like the gods themselves want to test me."
Yule grunted, arms crossed. "Seems too convenient, doesn't it? Back when your grandfather held these lands, not a single raider dared show their face near the Red Fork. Now look at us."
The implication was clear: Arthur's leadership was being tested—or worse, sabotaged.
Despite the suspicious timing, Arthur couldn't identify the true source of the disturbance. This was Westeros, a continent where lords, kings, and even religious fanatics like the Faith Militant kept brutal order. Banditry of this scale was rare and rarely tolerated.
"Enough guessing," Arthur said sharply, eyes hardening. "Let's get to the Riverside Village first. Amber, you and two others head north on horseback. Jules, take two and go east."
The men nodded.
"Village Chief Jace," Arthur called. "Gather any villagers who can fire a bow or swing an axe."
He pointed eastward, toward the rising sun.
"We'll track these bastards and bring justice down on them."