Seventeenth turn!
England; the Dark Ages; Ye olde village of Saint Gibsbury; one quarter to the hour of the beagle. ”Can I, oh Knights,” asks Crannock of the assembled knights in Saint Gibsbury village square, “carry on with my song now? ‘Tis a great and majestic song telling the story of the Mighty Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh!”“Forsooth, no!” interrupts
Sir Conchobar the Gruesome. “For it doth be hammer time! Where is yon tavern! I demand to have some booze! We four knights have been adventuring long and hard, and now it doth be time to socialise with some townsfolk. Come, fellow Knights of the Round Table!”
“Not so fast!” speaks
Sir Meynard the Sure, Hopping Bringer of Gory Death. “For Maddy my dear departed falconer doth weigh heavily on my heart: I shall go speak to this Janet the Falconer, and talk of things gone by. And falcons. Perhaps he shall even join me on our quest, although if this is actually what I desire ‘tis not entirely clear. But never mind! And then, let us get hammered together in yon tavern, like we hammer our foes together in battle!”
“I neither, shall not go gently into that goode tavern,” proclaims
Sir Feyman the Judging, Slayer of the Black Knight and Squasher of Maddy the Falcon Handler as he fails to tear the ground asunder with the very force of his fearsome sword. “I have but recently lost a minstrel, and I wish to speak with this here Crannock, as he calls himself, for old times’ sake. Hail, fellow admirer of the art of music!”
"I heard ye singing a tale of joy
About a knight and his valiant ploy
To strike down a soldier so black
That the Valley's Beast might to him be a snack!
But did you know, o humble fello'
That with a charge and mighty bello'
It was I who tore this foe apart
Not long after mine journey's start?"
Crannock appears to the on the verge of swooning [6].
”My Godde goode Sir, ‘twas you this valiant and noble Knight?! Surely Sir, you are a great knight, and a fearsome creator of majestic stories! Please, I begge of you: let me follow you in your quest, that I might later recount your daring deeds! And let me bring my brother Eric, who is a virtuoso in the art of the lute! He has wanted for many years to see a noble Knight of the Round Table!”Retainer Acquired! Crannock the Minstrel!
Retainer Acquired! Eric the Lutist!
Before Sir Feyman even has the chance to boom his reply, Crannock runs off, waving his arms and singing in excited delight. Sir Feyman catches up with Sir Conchobar, who is already concentrating on his noble task in the tavern.
Alas! He is quite alone; his fearsome and gruesome visage has scared away most of the villagers who had been in his corner. Even Fiddles has averted his eyes, and is looking for an excuse to leave for the other corner of the tavern, where yon maidens drinketh merrily [1].
Sir Keardwall then follows Sir Feyman in, looking somewhat confused.
"These folk don't
look foreign... They don't
sound foreign..."
He begins to look wistfully at yon other corner of the tavern, where maidens drinketh merrily. He reminds himself that he is on a God-granted Holy Quest, and commands another beer be served.
After not many more beers, Keardwall can be found in yon other corner of the tavern, pausing between every third sip of ale to pour a little into his pickled spleen jar. He recounts his mighty deeds, and the story of how he lost his spleen fighting fully 38 Frenchmen singlehanded; the village folk believeth him not! Yon maidens leave for another corner of the tavern [1].
At this moment, Sir Meynard arrives: beside him walks the proud Janet, Mighty Falconer, and atop each of Janet’s shoulders there sits a Mighty Falcon [5]. For Janet is a man of action, and of heroism, and of dreams, and he wishes to seek the Grail with the noble Sir Meynard!
Retainer Acquired! Janet the Falconer!
… … … … … …
The evening passes with a great quaffing of ale, many a loud singing of song, and not too great a quantity of embarrassing indiscretions. The next morning Sir Conchobar is the first to come round in the knights’ corner of the tavern. He shoos away the goat that is trying to chew his ear, and looks about. He waits a while, rubbing his head, until his companions awaken. Before they do,
Sir Conchobar is approached by a young lad.
“Goode Sir Knight,” he shyfully begins, “Hast thou considered my father’s suggestion from last night? Willst thou take me unto your service as a Shielder of Yon Face? ‘Tis a noble profession, and I see myself going far in your employ.”
Before he can answer, Sir Keardwall the Exteriorly Spleened, Stony Defeater of Bandits, Lord of Castle Lombard awakes.
”So, comrades,” he booms,
“Shall we be continuing our quest? Are we decided on proving our heroism by traversing the Terrible Valley of the Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh?”Name: Sir Keardwall the Exteriorly Spleened, Stony Defeater of Bandits, Lord of Castle Lombard.
Bio: So named for his rather unyielding demeanour towards his foes, and those of God and the King, Sir Keardwall the Stony was a natural choice for such a quest as this. Bearing a near-permanent frown, stout forehead and a square, manly beard, not to mention his well-kept armour, Sir Keardwell is the very picture of courage and skill-at-arms.
Enjoys fighting for King and Country, feasting heartily, and glaring stonily at those who cross him. Apart from his lance he wields a broadsword and a shield, upon which is displayed his family's crest, which involves a castle on a mountain guarded by a red dragon. He would never dream of refusing such a mission from his Lord, but of course the sorry state of his financial affairs offered an extra incentive to set out on this grand journey. After all, what born warrior would wish to be cooped up in a castle all day, counting tithes and taxes when he could be out doing great deeds?!
Traits Fearsome frown of fierceness, loud voice.
Retinue Member: Standard Bearer, Gertad Brownfoot. Old fellow who faithfully follows Sir Keardwall on his travels on a small pony, bearing the noble Knight's coat-of-arms for all to see. Always glad to recite a few of his Lord's deeds for any audience, he speaks sweeter still when his tongue is greased with alcohol. Gertad is currently away.
Chivalry: 4.
Arm Wrestles Won: 0/1.
Inventory: Jar of pickled eggs, a spleen, Castle Lombard.
Name: Sir Meynard the Sure, Hopping Bringer of Gory Death.
Bio: Meynard is not sure because he always knows, He is the other kind of sure. If he decides on a task, he will keep on trying until he succeeds, or there is incontrovertible proof that it is no longer possible. He Wields his great Warhammer "Drakhen" in the crucible of battle.
Retinue Member: Janet, the Falcon Handler.
Deceased Retinue Member: Maddy, the Falcon Handler; Long time companion of Meynard, Maddy was entrusted with the knights Falcon, who he took everywhere.
Chivalry: 3.
Drinking Challenges Won: 0/1.
Wound Acquired: Broken leg.
Falcon Handlers: 1/2.
Name: Sir Feyman the Judging, Slayer of the Black Knight and Squasher of Maddy the Falcon Handler.
Bio: Sir Feyman gladly accepts his role in any quests, but is always suspicious of the motives of his fellow questers. He likes to play music, but doesn't have the opportunity very often. He fights with swords, but doesn't get too attached to his equipment.
Retinue Members: Crannock the Minstrel; Eric the Lutist.Deceased Retinue Member: Maine the shy Minstrel. He usually followed Feyman around, blindly agreeing with him, even though he taught Feyman many things, including how to play music.
Chivalry: 4.
Duels Won: 1/1.
Arms: 1/2.
Minstrels: 2/3.
Name: Sir Conchobar the Gruesome, Potted Insulter of Mothers.
Bio: The stuff of legends, Conchobar is feared throughout the world. Not because of his deeds mind you, but because of his legendary ugliness. He is said to be so ugly that the heads of lesser men have shattered in his presence. It is also notable that his favored weapon is a man wearing spiked armor named Fiddles.
Traits: Unimaginably intimidating. Ridiculously ugly.
Retinue member: Fiddles the man club.
Chivalry: 4.
Arm Wrestles Won: 1/1.
Inventory: The Holy Crossbow of Beersheba, Renowned Slayer of the Green Dragon.
edit: due to GM being an idiot and posting before his cup of tea.