Thirty Eighth turn!
England; the Dark Ages; the Hillock of Fate; dawn.Sir Feyman is furious. Those dastardly tall knights have led them astray! Mere dastardliness shall not stop him, however: he is the Slayer of the Black Knight! Soiler of Underwear! He draws his sword and yells a mighty war cry as he charges the Tree of Evil Tallness.
"ARGLHARGLBARGL!"
"Sir Feyman, no!” interrupts
Sir Conchobar,
“This must be dealt with honorably! We are Knights of God and King Arthur! We have given our word to complete this Sacred Task! Give me the Herring!"Sir Feyman stops in his tracks as he hears Conchobar’s wise words, and reconsiders.
"As much as I desire to let my anger finish this silly quest, now I believe it is time for my companions to help me out. I'm sorry, for I should have trusted you all in the first place. Quests like this are not to be completed by one single arm! I truly have learned a useful life lesson ‘pon this day! Here, Sir Conchobar, take the Herring. I am sorry that I have broken it so."Sir Feyman hands the broken Herring to his friend, who scoops it up and shoves it into his man-weapon. Hoisting Fiddles upon his shoulder, Conchobar prepares to charge the Tall Tree, when suddenly the wise and clever
Sir Beadocáf interrupts in his turn. He has a cunning plan!
"My Sirs Knight! Stop this madness! If we each take a piece of yonder broken Herringe, and smear it upon our weapons and perhaps ourselves, we can all strike the tree together, without failing the demands of the Foul Knights! Truly it is a cunning plan I have devised that'll outsmart them in so, or something."Sir Feyman agrees.
“Good Lord, Beadocáf, I must take back what I implied about your intellig-er Sacred Attunedness, ‘tis a splendid idea! Conchobar, pass around yon Herring that we may smear it upon our swords and, perhaps, ourselves!”At this suggestion
Sir Keardwall also perks up, and stops sulkily chewing on his pickled egg in irritation at this ridiculously non-violent sacred nonsense.
"Aye, truly a good plan! Give me that herring, and I shall snap yon tree like a matchstick!" He joins his companions in sharing bits of the Holy Broken Herringe, and the four knights kneel in holy prayer, and rub fish upon their weapons.
… … … … … …
England; the Dark Ages; the Hillock of Fate; a quarter past dawn.“For the KINNNNNNNNNNNNNG!!!!!!”Conchobar is first to rise to his feet, Fiddle’s head smeared in Holy Herringe Paste and prayers of hope uttered to the Lord. He swings Fiddles the man-club about his head in a mighty arc, and he connects face with tree! A small crack doth appear on yon trunke [3]!
Beadocáf the Rotund steps up next, his knobbed mace dripping with Herringe remnants. He delivers a terrifying blow [6+1]! The trunk doth explode in tiny shards! The tree is toppled! It falls at an alarming pace!
As the knights scatter in alarm, there is one poor soul who stands transfixed before the awe-inspiring power of nature.
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!! HAGLEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!! RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"Hagley the Squire is struck down!
Title Acquired: Sir Beadocáf Aethlearne the Rotund, Sacred Feller of the Tallest Tree on the Hillock of Fate!Retinue Member Lost: Hagley the Squire hath been crushed by the Tree!… … … … … …
Around the gathered knights appear, suddenly, the Knights Who Say ‘Ni’. Their leader speaks.
“Knights of the Round Table! You have completed the Sacred Task, which no man has ever completed before! You are brave men, and good! You have completed your task; and so shall we fulfill our promise. We shall lead you to the Cave of Caerbannog! But be warned! No man has ever entered yon cave and lived!”The Knights Who Say ‘Ni’ form a guard of honour around the Knights of the Round Table; the column moves out as the sun rises above the Forest of Hell.
… … … … … …
England; the Dark Ages; the Cave of Caerbannog; midday.As the sun weakly reaches its highest point, the knights can be found riding on foot towards a looming and massive rock face riddled with cave openings. A foreboding atmosphere descends upon the group, and the leader of the Knights Who Say ‘Ni’ turns and demands silence with his finger. The air seems to fill with mist.
The group strides forward a dozen or more paces. The leader of the Knights Who Say ‘Ni’ halts, and signals with his eyes towards the entrance of the cave.
The wind rises a little. Green mist floats up from the depths of the cave. Bones are littered about the entrance. The silence is total.
“Behold the Cave of Caerbannog! Ye must approach with great silence!”Keardwall turns to Feyman.
“Keep me covered. I’m going in.”
“Covered? With wha-“
“SHIT!” cries the leader of the Knights Who Say ‘Ni’, “It’s too late! There he is! RUN AWAY!”As dozens of Knights Who Say ‘Ni’ flee in terror from the cave, the four questers turn as one towards the entrance. A large white rabbit lollops few yards out.
Keardwall turns to the leader of the Knights Who Say ‘Ni’.
“Where? Behind the rabbit?”
“It is the rabbit!!”
“You cretin!” interrupts
Feyman.
“You tit! I soiled my armour I was so scared!” admits Keardwall [1].
Title Acquired: Sir Keardwall the Exteriorly Spleened, Stony Defeater of Bandits, Destroyer of the Son of the Eel of Stafford, Terror of the West, Slayer of the Two-Headed Knight of the Wood of Doom and Soiler of Armour!“That rabbit’s got a vicious streak! It’s a killer! He guards the Cave of Caerbannog!”
“Oh, bugger off! It’s just a bloody rabbit!”The Cave of Caerbannog lies before the Knights of the Round Table! The location of the Grail lies written on the walls of the living rock within!Name: Sir Keardwall the Exteriorly Spleened, Stony Defeater of Bandits, Destroyer of the Son of the Eel of Stafford, Terror of the West, Slayer of the Two-Headed Knight of the Wood of Doom and Soiler of Armour.
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: 3.
Arm Wrestles Won: 0/1.
Inventory: A spleen in a jar of pickled eggs, a lower leg in a jar of gherkins.
Wounds: No lower left leg.
Name: Sir Feyman the Judging, Slayer of the Black Knight, Soiler of Underwear.
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.
Lost Members: Naughty Melga the Possible Witch.
Deceased Retinue Members: 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; Eric the Lutist, who bravely followed Sir Feyman for over an hour, only to be sliced in twain by the Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh
Chivalry: 1.
Duels Won: 1/2.
Arms: 1/2.
Minstrels: 1/3.
Name: Sir Conchobar the Miraculously Gruesome, Potless Insulter of Mothers and Piercer of the Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh, Splitter of the Left Head of the Dreaded Three-Headed Knight of the Wood of Doom, Wetter of Pants.
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 members: Fiddles the man club; Kenneth, Shielder of Yon Face For the Protection of Others.
Chivalry: 4.
Arm Wrestles Won: 1/1.
Inventory: The Holy Crossbow of Beersheba, Renowned Slayer of the Green Dragon, Bolt Foot.
Name: Sir Beadocáf Aethlearne the Rotund, Sacred Feller of the Tallest Tree on the Hillock of Fate.
Bio: A large man, both tall and wide, with long reddish hair and beard. As the shape of his body might give away, Beadocáf enjoys a good meal. And a good drink. And anything feast-related, really. Despite this affection, Beadocáf is also a rather pious man, spending a lot of his money on building churches on his land, and prefers to spare his fighting skills for when God calls upon them. His colours are red and gold, and his crest is an eagle carrying a cross. His weapon of choice is a long-shafted, knobbed mace, inscribed with the words Nutu Dei. Sometimes also called the Boar, or possible the Bore, Beadocáf is never quite sure which one people mean by it.
Lost Members: Godewine of Norwhyiche, an old friend and monk scholar who was witnessing his quest for chronicling purposes but fell to the temptations of spanking. Hagley the Squire, who joined Beadocáf to learn how to become a knight, but was instead flattened by the very man he sought to emulate.
Retinue Members: None.
Chivalry: 0.
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Topic: Roll to Seek the Grail! (Read 51062 times)