Eighteenth turn!
England; the Dark Ages; Ye olde village of Saint Gibsbury; one quarter to the hour of the beagle. As
Sir Conchobar accepts the service of Kenneth, Shielder of Yon Face For the Protection of Others, he looks over towards Keardwall.
“Aha! You are verily up as well! Perhaps we should travel forth unto the valley!”
Retainer Acquired! Kenneth, Shielder of Yon Face For the Protection of Others.
Sir Keardwall was readying himself for voyage and battle, deep in thought.
As much as these people aren't foreigners, he mused,
they certainly aren't the brightest of folk, not like in the more civilised parts. Anyone with a functioning brain would have swooned at the mere hearing of my exploits in yesterday’s battle… He checks his fine armoured appearance in a nearby chamber pot and, finding it satisfactory, buckles 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!"
Keardwall puts his loud voice, intimidating presence and hard boots to good use in getting his fellow Knights of the Round Table 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.
Sir Meynard follows immediately, for a mere dozen casks of ale aren’t likely to give him a problem in the morn! No! Well, perhaps once, but then the Black Knight’s Black Ale was particularly strong, and he was drinking on an empty stomach, and he’d had to get up very early that day, and also he was recovering from a slight cold.
“Come,” he suggests, “come let us face the terrors of the Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh with fearless hearts and a song on our lips!”
The Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh, it cannot be hard,
T’will surely fold like a pack of cards;
We fear not its claws nor its teeth so sharp,
Envy not its eyes which can see in the dark;
And neither shall our courage fail,
When we see its incredible sharp spiked tail…It is not long before Keardwall takes offence at Meynard’s mauling of all that is delicate and musical. He is, in fact, stoically concealing a vicious headache.
"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 Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh, 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!"
"Ey, indeed! Eric, play your fancy lute as Crannock makes some noise with a song about the Valley's Beast! Let us venture out!"
We ride on to brave the er sorry…
We march on to brave the terrible beast,
We hope not to become its daily feast!
We hope to slay and be on our way,
If only to quest for another day;
I’ll sing the tale of how they find the Grail,
Pursuing it like some great white whale;
They’ll sing day and night the song I shall write,
About Sir Feyman’s miraculous might!
How Sir Feyman he thus gave meaning to the very word ‘brave’
Fighting the beast and dodging the grave,
Treating the beast like a groveling knave...… … … … … …
England; the Dark Ages; the Terrible Valley of the Hideous Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh; towards the hour of the goat. In the Terrible Valley of the Hideous Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh, the four knights march on under the afternoon sun, which dips in the sky as it approaches the hour of the goat. They have walked for many hours, along mountainous paths; beside raging torrents; under mighty trees – and their tunics are dusty with travel, their train of retainers strung out with fatigue, and their ears wearying of Eric the Minstrel’s tireless taste for singing, tuneful though it may be.
They wind on down the valley, on a tortuous and windy path that descends towards their goal: the hermitage of the Olde Man of Llangwllwd who, it is fervently believed, may well know the resting place of the one Holy Grail, last chalice of Christ.
Sir Keardwall the Keen and Stony – for it is he who has taken the lead - suddenly raises his armoured fist, and the questing column stumbles to a halt.
“I say,” he whispers loudly, “there is a cave ahead. We should approach with caution, lest we awaken the Hideous Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh.”
Suddenly Janet the Falcon Handler screams.
“Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh! The Hideous and Vile Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh! Run! Run for your lives!”
Rooted to the spot, Janet is pointing towards the very cave that Sir Keardwall Lord of Castle Lombard so recently remarked.
"‘Tis the Terrifyingly Hideous and Vile Black Beast of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh!"
A giant beast, many times the size of a short man, the colour of a horrific frog, with horns the size of a large bush and eyes numbering some several dozen, has left its lair! It doth lumber up towards the questing knights, roaring its fearsome challenge as it comes!
It doth have teeth the size of a manne’s head!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 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.
Edit: added a line space. Deleted a space.
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Topic: Roll to Seek the Grail! (Read 50811 times)