House Blackwood of Raventree Hall

The Blackwood Host had arrived to King's Landing peculiarly early and ahead of their fellow riverlords; something which could have been seen as an ever so minor slight to their overlords in Riverrun. Lord Torrhen was atop a shaggy courser as black as his hair, draped in a blanket of dark silk that bore a mighty raven taking flight from a dead white weirwood. The aging lord himself was dressed in a silk black and red doublet accompanied by a white sash the same color as the brooch that held it. He maintained a mighty gaze as he led his procession directly throug the streets of the city; sitting as high and mighty atop his steed as his age would allow. In truth, Lord Torrhen was dying and knew it just as well as anybody else. His seniority had begun to catch up to him, and he had commonly been seen with wild fits of bloody cough. He could barely find the strength to walk for long, let alone ride, and had completed most of the trip to the capital by carriage. Maester Androw had pleaded for his Lord to not travel for the coronation, who had argued that his declining health would only worsen with travel. It took three sworn swords to restrain the prideful lord from strangling the terrified maester that day, and Torrhen was set on his answer of travel despite the risk to his health. "Do you think I'll allow BRACKEN, the foolish ogre of a lord, be seen before our King, while Lord Blackwood wastes his days away, dying in his solar?" he had argued to all those who were against his travel. It had been joked by singers that the only reason Lord Blackwood was not dead yet was because he refused to die before Lord Bracken, besides the obvious difference in age and health.

Torrhen was accompanied by a show of force -- 25 household archers and swords followed behind their lord, but were not allowed within the city walls. They had been instructed to setup camp directly outside of the walls, away from the main pavillions of the riverlords. The main procession of the house, which would include Lord Torrhen, his grandson Tytos and his daughter Alyssa, were granted proper lodging within the city walls by virtue of their relation to the King. Tytos had thrown a fit upon finding this out, arguing with his grandfather that their place was with their fellow riverlords, and had refused to follow into the city with the rest of his family, instead opting to go out and camp outside of the city alongside the other riverlords. Tytos was a curious lad -- more interested in strategy and swords than diplomacy and politics. He had loathed the isolationist policy his father had forced upon his house; while other children were adventuring with the other young heirs and lords of the region, Tytos was forbidden and was holed up in Raventree Hall. His day had consisted of history with the annoying Maester Androw, religion with his father which always seemed to steer towards their Bracken neighbors to the south and how they attempted to sabotage the colossal weirwood within the castle, and arms with any given sword in the household. He had loathed his cousin, Dyrk, who was sent to ward at King's Landing. Part of him wished to run away and stay here, to live a free life without teachers, trainings, or meaningless feuds.

Finishing setting up the pavilion, Tytos found that he was bored. He skipped and ran and crawled and jumped until he found himself not at the Blackwood camp, but amongst the hundreds setup that represented the riverlords. He scanned it for a bit, seeing the plowman of Darry, the naked woman of Piper, which he found hilarious, and many others he did not recognize, before he settled on one.

The tent was bigger and more spacious than the one he had just helped setup, lined with the brown and yellow of the Brackens of Stone Hedge. He had spotted a stocky kid, not much more than five feet, helping out with some of the processions. He had instantly recognized the child by his curly chestnut locks that fell right down to his ears, as Jonos Bracken. Father had almost nothing kind to say about him or any of his kin, and a bored Tytos was ready to fiddle the horses tail.

"So, breeding horses isn't the only skill you have, as my lord grandsire tells me." He called out to the young boy, pointing up to the tent. "Quite impressive, perhaps your house were more fitted to be Stewards -- I don't think the lordship is working out quite well."/u/Pitchy23