Fifth turn!
England; the Dark Ages; a path with bandits; a little later in the morning. Sir Keardwall, enraged by the mud oozing from his beard, shouts his frowning head off as he takes a mighty swing with the flat of his sword to try and bash the bandit who attacked him in the side of the head.
Sir Keardwall rises enraged from the mud to see the knavish bandit try to follow up his first attack with a second, and more effective. Shouting, he strikes with the flat of his sword as the bandit leaves himself open, axe held high.
"Cowardly knave! Ye have muddied my cuirass! For that I shall beat you to a pulp! You have the guts of a lamb and the brains of a pimple! I shall knock your teeth out your gassy backside! I would use your blood to touch-up the red on my crest, if it were not yellow!"
He knocks the knave's pimplish brains to a pustulent pulp [5]! They are broken! He is struck down! Sir Keardwall the Stoney, Defeater of Bandits, turns about to look around him victoriously, to find the mighty Sir Feyman hiding behind his back, singing merrily. He'd wondered where that was coming from.
Sir Feyman attempts to hide behind Keardwall and his fighting prowess while deflecting oncoming bandit strikes to the both of them. He sings a merry tune!
"Strike, strike, strike not the cowering Feyman!"
Feyman reconsiders. He spouts thusly: "Maine, sing me a better tune!"
"Strike, strike, strike not the cowering Feyman!" finishes
Sir Feyman the Judging, Slayer of the Black Knight. At his master's request, the shy minstrel brings forth his trusty lute [3], and sings a tune of relatively improved craftminstrelship.
The brave three knights were fighting along,
As Sir Feyman did sing a righte merrie songe;
So strike, strike, strike not the cowering Feyman!
He'll dodge your arrow and sidestep your sword,
Even claim not to be a rich mighty Lord;
You'll not, not, not strike the cowering Feyman!
He'll cower behind a taller man,
Even when it's a fight that he began;
Quite, quite, quite hard to strike Sir Feyman!
He'll duck, he'll dive, he'll then talk jive,
Try anything just to stay alive;
Don't, don't, don't judge the cowering Feyman!
If there was ever a fight, he probably ran,
He'd surely even sell hi- arrrrrrrgh!The song reaches an abrupt conclusion. Sir Feyman turns around, and falls to his knees in sorrow.
Sir Conchobar The Gruesome sweeps the legs of the sickened bandit out from under him and delivers a ferocious upwards strike to him as he falls, being careful not to look at the shield.
From his strategic vantage point on the ground,
Sir Conchobar the Gruesome sweeps the vomiting bandit's legs from under him, majestically timing his upwards strike with Fiddles the man-weapon as the bandit falls like a forest attacked by a herd of lumberjacks [6]. He flies vigourously into the air, defenceless; he falls back to the ground! He lands on Maine the Shy Minstrel [1; randomised], standing several feet away! The bandit is shattered! He is struck down! Maine the Shy Minstrel is crushed! He is sadly struck down!
Sir Feyman: Minstrel Lost! Maine the Shy Minstrel has been struck down!
"mieeie rou soms of saws" Meynard screams, as he continues flailing
Unaware of the musical tragedy playing out behind him,
Sir Meynard screams like a man afflicted with a terminal cold. He flails the mighty warhammer Drakhen around him in a veritable circle of doom: one bandit [3] is badly shocked, and flees for his life; the second [6] is punctured in the liver! He passes away! Sir Meynard feels particularly sober all of a sudden!
Elsewhere, seeing the vengeance of God wrought upon his once merry band, the deputy bandit - indeed, now the chief of the bandits - throws down his cumbersome shield and runs as fast as his now delicate digestive system will allow him. He is out of sight before the four knights have finished their prayers of victory and thanks.
Group Chivalry Increased! Valiant victory! (+1)
... ... ... ... ... ...
Some of the knights' morale boosted by their magnificent victory, some bitterly affected by their loss, the heroic band venture onwards on their quest. Onwards! To Castle Lombard!
... ... ... ... ... ...
The aforementioned knights arrive at the aforementioned castle later that very day, shortly before the hour of the eel. Sir Keardwall stonily strides up to the great castle doors, impenetrable and silent in their honest English oak. Although the doors have no beard,
Sir Keardwall is reminded a little of himself. He strikes heavily with his armoured fist.
"Open up! In the name of King Arthur, King of the Britons, Defeater of the Saxons!"
A shutter is opened a few feet above the castle doors.
"What is it that you warnt, you smelly English types?" "We wish shelter for the night, and to witness the Grail!"
"You warnt what for the when and to what the where?"They are clearly foreign: Sir Keardwall decides to shout louder and more slowly.
"WE WISH SHELTER FOR - "
"No, no, here, let me handle this, Keardwall. Listen and learn dear boy."
Sir Conchobar decides to contribute to the conversation.
"Rumour abounds that you have at Castle Lombard the true Grail! The Holy Grail that we seek for King Arthur as a God-granted quest! The Grail that will adorn his reign like yon cherry upon... upon a biscuit! We have sworn not to -"
"Eh! Good Christ Almighty! What is wrong with your ungodly face? Ah cannot look at you no longer! Ah cannot let you enter to look at my lord's 'oly Grail!"The shutter slams shut; the closest and most keen-eared observers would later swear upon their honour that behind those shutters they were being laughed at, and ridiculed.
The Holy Grail is, according to the wise man, inside this lord's castle, whose occupants are soiling your honour!Name: Sir Keardwall the Stony, Defeater of Bandits.
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.
Chivalry: 2.
Name: Sir Meynard the Sure
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: Maddy, the Falcon Handler; Long time companion of Meynard, Maddy has been entrusted with the knights Falcon, who he takes everywhere
Chivalry: 2.
Drinking Challenges Won: 0/1.
Name: Sir Feyman the Judging, Slayer of the Black Knight
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.
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: 3.
Duels Won: 1/1.
Arms: 1/2.
Minstrels: 0/1.
Name: Sir Conchobar the Gruesome
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: 2.
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Topic: Roll to Seek the Grail! (Read 51000 times)