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[Yoink]

Sir Keardwall, one foot resting on a nearby chair as he contemplates, stroking his imposing, bearded chin thoughtfully with one hand whilst nursing a goblet/cup of ale for help with the thought processes in the other, shall frown thoughtfully for a while before speaking. His jar-o'-spleen sits just to one side, where it might listen to the discussion and possibly offer helpful advice.

"Now, whilst I am loathe to even enter one of these filthy, foreign villages, so full of heathens and pox and utterly lacking in goodwill and worship of the Lord, I do realise we need more information of where these villainous people might be hiding the Grail."
He sighs heavily to himself, one hand patting the newly-found and newly-sheathed sword at his side, a gesture that makes it clear he wouldn't be so 'loathe' to enter the village with the sole purpose of attacking it in the name of the King.
"Whilst it is always a good thing to acquire new lands and territories for the King, this is not our mission. So, we shall go forth to this village to learn the Grail's whereabouts with sword and boot, and God above help any smelly foreign peasant who refuses us!"
He raises his tankard/cup/goblet in the air as he finishes, then downs it and prepares to march, grabbing up his shield from where he left it.

[wolfchild]

I like how the guy with the broken leg just ignores the doctor standing there in the courtyard.

He dislikes doctors, you need to make him unconscious first

Meynard likes the sound of the village, and if they don't co-operate, he still has a spare smashing-into-oblivion, but first he follows the smell of ale and pillages the ale cellar for a barrel or two for on the road

[SeriousConcentrate]

I like how the guy with the broken leg just ignores the doctor standing there in the courtyard.

He dislikes doctors, you need to make him unconscious first

Poor Daniel. ;_;

[lawastooshort]

Sixteenth turn!
England; the Dark Ages; Castle Lombard; twenty to the hour of the magpie.

Our four brave knights gather round in the courtyard of Castle Lombard, newly captured for King Arthur, Saviour of the Britons. They seek the Grail: where should their quest take them next?


The gruesome Sir Conchobar is the first to speak up.

“The occupants of yonder village probably know what lies beyond yonder forest. Two birds with one stone and such. Although I suppose I could just revealed my hideous, disfigured and faecally enhanced face unto these two birds, should we see them, and save on stones. What say ye? "

Conchobar turns to his valiant comrade, and Lord of Castle Lombard, Sir Keardwall, who, one foot resting on a nearby chair as he contemplates, strokes his imposing, bearded chin thoughtfully with one hand whilst nursing a goblet of ale for help with the thought processes in the other, is frowning thoughtfully.

A while passes, in silence. His jar-o'-spleen sits just to one side, where it listens to the discussion as if wishing to offer helpful advice.

"Now, whilst I am loathe to even enter one of these filthy, foreign villages, so full of heathens and pox and utterly lacking in goodwill and worship of the Lord, I do realise we need more information of where these villainous people might be hiding the Grail."

Sir Keardwall, apparently still unaware that he and his companions have not yet left the green countryside of England, sighs heavily to himself, one hand patting the newly-found and newly-sheathed sword at his side, a gesture that makes it clear he wouldn't be so 'loathe' to enter the village with the sole purpose of attacking it in the name of the King.

"Whilst it is always a good thing to acquire new lands and territories for the King, this is not our mission. So, we shall go forth to this village to learn the Grail's whereabouts with sword and boot, and God above help any smelly foreign peasant who refuses us!"

Keardwall the Stony raises his goblet in the air as he finishes, then downs it and prepares to march, grabbing up his shield from where he left it.

Sir Feyman the Black Squasher of Falcons agrees: there be rumours in them thar villages! And forests are well known to be dark, and easy to lose oneself within. He realises that Sir Keardwall has so far apparently led them well, and that thanks to his combat prowess and keen intuition, not to mention lightning intellect, and thus defers to his decision.

“Let us march on!” he proclaims. “Hang on, where's Meynard?”

This latter appears almost as soon as Sir Feyman poses the question. He is in a mood even blacker than his recent close personal loss might give him cause to be: he has been rummaging around in the castle cellars. Without a word, he throws a barrel down at the floor with such force that it explodes, showering the surrounding knights with its contents. Sir Conchobar is the first, again, to speak, after touching a finger to the liquid splashed upon his armour and fearlessly tasting it.

“I say, Meynard. What the devil are you doing with a barrel of water?! What in God's name are you thinking of?!??”

…   …   …   …   …   ...


England; the Dark Ages; The Village of Saint Gibsbury; half past the hour of the magpie.
 
The Great Black Knight I heard he fell,
He very probably went straight to hell;
I heard that he was cleaved right in twain,
After slaying a brave knight yet again;
Our saviour travelled o’er valley and hill,
In single combat did valiantly kill;
And saved us from his tyrannical reign…
 
As the four knights approach the nearest village, named after the fabled Saint Gibsbury, Tamer of the Vicious Eel of Stafford, joyous song does waft upon the lunchtime air to greet them.
 
They proceed forth unto the centre of the village, and see the originator of the joyous song, a young minstrel who goes by the name of Crannock, as the knights discover upon commanding him to yield his name. They ask what of interest lies about this putrid home of his, and he stops his song long enough to point out to this brave and noble band of knights the highlights of his village.
 
On the left, sires, you can see the village tavern, ‘tis a quite goode place for beer and cheer; on the right is Kevin the Blacksmith’s workshop; and yonder house is the house of Janet the Falconer, a mighty man who doth fly the village falcons.
 
Alas, around our village there is not much of interest, for dark forests lie thick about, as you doubtless have seen, save for towards the north, where lies the house of the olde man of Llangwllwd, who was once a wise and learned monk and now lives as a humble and modest hermit. He is our village sage. We see him little, for he lives beyond the Valley of the Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh. We travel not therein unless needs must, for the Black Beast has terrorised us for many a year. I shall sing a song!
 
The Olde Black Beast upon us all doth feast
We flee west and north and south and eas-
 
Ah yes, sorry. The Grail? I have but heard stories of it, brave knights, told once to me by the olde man of Llangwllwd, many years ago… You'll not find it here! But 'tis true, he may knowe. Otherwise you'll have to pass through yonder dark forest, whose rumours are so terrible I knowe them not...

Will you pass through the Valley of the Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh to seek the counsel of the Olde Man of Llangwllwd? Or stumble blindly through the Darke Forest of Yonder?

Or will you seek shelter a while in the fair village of St Gibsbury and then pass through the Valley of the Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh to seek the counsel of the Olde Man of Llangwllwd or stumble blindly through the Darke Forest of Yonder??

[freeformschooler]

((This never ceases to make me laugh. Lawas, you could right a medieval fantasy parody novel!))

Sir Feyman digs his sword into the ground, hoping it would tear the ground asunder by the very force of it, only to find it achieves no such effect. Regardless, before voting, he introduces himself to Crannock.

"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?"

With this tune now past him (Feyman was a fan of tunes, after all, and was sure to retire a minstrel were he to live that long, though how he would play with one arm is a mystery), Sir Feyman voted that his "fello'" knights join him on a conquest through the Valley of multiple letter A's! But this is after they get ABSOLUTELY SMASHED AT THE TAVERN.

EDIT: we should definitely hang out here at least another turn.

EDIT2: Tavern seems like a great idea.

[wolfchild]

Meynad is torn between visiting the falconer and going to the tavern, he decides to go to the falconer first, and then get hammered at the tavern

[Sinpwn]

Sir Conchobar doth declare that it is indeed hammer time. Head to the tavern and begin drinking booze as one would inhale air. Socialize with the townsfolk.

[Yoink]

Sir Keardwall is somewhat confused, his bold face scrunched up in puzzlement rather than his usual grim expression as he follows the others through the town. "These folk don't look foreign... They don't sound foreign..."
Later on, no-doubt, at the tavern after a few kegs, he will also come to the conclusion that, "Th' beer duhn't tashte forei-*hic* foreign eitherh!"
Once the drinking's done, he shall sleep it off- most likely resisting the urge to do so in the company of a willing lass, seen as he's on a quest at the moment and it wouldn't seem proper- and on the morrow set off with the others.

During the course of his drunken night out he shall tell grand, yet truthful tales of their exploits, gesturing frequently to his spleen, and attempt to recruit a new retainer or two, whose chief duty shall be carrying said mighty spleen. Doubtless these simple folk shall be in total awe of his prowess and bravery, and will jump at the chance to accompany him on his adventures!

[lawastooshort]

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?”

Spoiler: Yoink; Sir Keardwall the Exteriorly Spleened, Stony Defeater of Bandits, Lord of Castle Lombard (click to show/hide)

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.

Spoiler: wolfchild; Sir Meynard the Sure, Hopping Bringer of Gory Death (click to show/hide)

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.

Spoiler: freeformschooler; Sir Feyman the Judging, Slayer of the Black Knight and Squasher of Maddy the Falcon Handler (click to show/hide)

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.

Spoiler: Sinpwn; Sir Conchobar the Gruesome, Potted Insulter of Mothers (click to show/hide)

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.

[Yoink]

'As much as these people aren't foreigners,' Sir Keardwall thought to himself as he awoke, shouted at the others, yawned, farted and began to slam on his armour, scowling as he recalled his failure to impress the night before, 'They certainly aren't the brightest of folk, not like in the more civilized parts.'
Shaking his head in disappointment at the folly of these simple-minded peasants, he glanced at his armoured reflection in a nearby mirror/chamberpot, nodded with satisfaction and buckled on his sword.

"Come along then, you lot! No time to lose, hmm? Rouse yourselves, we have a valley to cross, a foul beast to fight, an old man to question, and a Grail to recover! Surely you aren't feeling the worse-for-wear after those piddling few drinks! Come on, up!"
He puts his loud voice, intimidating presence and hard boots to good use in getting his fellow Knights ready for action. He picks up his spleen before leaving, of course, and makes his way out of the tavern with a bushy-browed frown.

[Zako]

Of course, you cannot forget your spleen. That's important that is.

[wolfchild]

Meynard booms merrily, what that many drinks keep me down? I was just steeling myself for battle, come let us face the terrors of ARRRRGGHHHGGRHHH, or however that continued, with fearless hearts and a song on our lips

Meynard then continues to sing horribly, yet enthusiastically, until someone forces him to stop

[Yoink]

Keardwall forces Sir Meynard to stop. Strenuously if necessary.
Despite his brave face, Sir Keardwall still suffers quite the throbbing head from the knight's revelry, and is not quite in the mood for such awful noise.

"For the love of God could you cut that out?! You'll deafen us, not to mention the entire bloody town! Save such terrible noise for scaring away yon Black Beast of Aaaargh, hmm? I imagine he, she or it would quite gladly throw themselves into the darkest and deepest chasm available merely to escape it!"
He glances over towards Feyman and Company. "Sir Feyman! Have one of your minstrels sing us a song, eh? Something more agreeable to the ears!"

[wolfchild]

Keardwall forces Sir Meynard to stop. Strenuously if necessary.
Despite his brave face, Sir Keardwall still suffers quite the throbbing head from the knight's revelry, and is not quite in the mood for such awful noise.

"For the love of God could you cut that out?! You'll deafen us, not to mention the entire bloody town! Save such terrible noise for scaring away yon Black Beast of Aaaargh, hmm? I imagine he, she or it would quite gladly throw themselves into the darkest and deepest chasm available merely to escape it!"
He glances over towards Feyman and Company. "Sir Feyman! Have one of your minstrels sing us a song, eh? Something more agreeable to the ears!"

This is basically the response I was hoping for, only his singing is bad enough to make you want to commit suicide if that is the only way to stop hearing it

[freeformschooler]

Feyman rubbed his chin. He hadn't given much thought to how foreign the townsfolk did or did not sound, so he wasn't as worries as Keardwall about anything.

"Ey, indeed, let us venture out! Eric, play your fancy lute as Crannock makes some noise with a song about the Valley's Beast!" With saying this, Feyman prepared to head out to the Valley with his noble comrades. Surely they are but unstoppable now!

((I can't believe I have three retinues! Or do I? Did Janet go to someone else?))