Thursday, July 13, 2006
524: Greg's playing
Sir Clydno, Le chevalier Doight
I generated Sir Clydno for the first Pendragon game that I’ve played in decades. Aaron is the GM, because in my campaign I requrie the players to sometimes be GMs so I can play too. ow that we’re in a period of stability, they can run things occasionally.
I made him the bastard younger brother of a major NPC, Count Charles of Marlboro. I’ve always referred him, in the offhanded GM way outside of the game, as Count Chuckie, and find that the player characters always do now too. My character is perplexed by this familiaroity and impudence, insists on them calling him Count Charles, thanks to his +6 Loyalty (Lord) he got from Character generation as the son of a noble.
I rolled family Heirloom, Christian Relic on the Luck Table. I decided it was a finger of Saint Alban, inherited form his mothr no doubt since the Count doesn’t own it. He keeps it at home, not wanting to risk it of course, but has pictured it on his shield. Hence his name, Knight of the Finger.
His significent Trait is Reckless.
Some players were surprised that he is neither pious not Religious, to which I simply replied, "Why would he need those when he has a relic?"—Greg
A knight at last! I have waited for this moment all my life, and I give my thanks to my dear brother the Earl Charles de Marlboro for granting to me this blessing. I eagerly look forward to vanquishing the foes of Britain! My only regret is that the Saxons have been conquered, for they seemed to be the best opportunity to gain glory and fame.
After some dutiful garrison duty—how odious and boring—I was released to seek adventure. Most of the knights in the county are content to sit home and tend normal duties. Let them stand guard!
I ventured to the hall of the Great Duke where I learned that the Lady Ga, a woman of great beauty and fame, had disappeared. Her husband, the famous Sir Uren, called the Timely, had gone seeking her. Perhaps she had been kidnapped!
Some said Lady Ga was of fairy blood, and that her disappearance after seven human years in companionship was natural. Her husband is seeking her, they say, and will never return, for once departed none can find their way back to the enchanted lands.
I too joined in the wide seeking of her, wandering the lands of Tribruit, Lambor and Cameliard seeking clues. But alas, finding naught. I met many fine folks and now know some roads in those aforementioned lands, and have performed some jousts and been in many fine hunts. I shall return to my brother’s halls with these humble tales of adventure.
That was just a made up year of Previous Experience. Regrettably, Wayne, the player of Sir Uren, has to retire from the game. It was coincidentally the seventh year of his faerie wife, which provides a ready excuse for his character’s disappearance.—Greg
523: the Sons of Ulfius Revolt
Sir Monroe speaks
When Leo heard that the sons of Ulfius were defying the king, he practically jumped out of his seat and ran to the high chair shouting, "I'll go! I'll go!" So off we went on one of the most boring sieges in the history of siegedom. I don't know how the old man stands it! He and Sir Griflet stand around, consulting maps, pointing over the walls, pondering. Ladders are dispatched, the catapult adjusted ever so slightly...and the day wears on, only to be repeated the next. Leo and I finally grabbed Uren and Cadfael and snuck off on some impromptu "tax gathering" missions in the countryside. Not that we found much—at first. But then, ho-ho! We came across Ulo's manor, guarded by a bunch of non-comps and his young, comely wife and her hand-maidens. Well, the next thing we know, but we're sleeping in the straw of the hall and Leo is waltzing off to Ulo's bedchamber with Lady Yvonne on his arm! And then we stayed a second night!
We didn't want things to get too hot, so we left the next morning, after Leo persuades the lady to give him a token. We just about died laughing on the ride back to Silchester. And Leo doesn't waste any time; as soon as we're back in camp, he gets a fresh horse and rides past the marshall and dad and their maps right up to the front gate. He starts shouting for Ulo to come out and fight light a man, starts remarking on very private areas of Ulo's lady wife, then starts to wave around a pair of Lady Yvonne's panties!
Ulo was out that gate pretty quick, challenging Leo to one-on-one combat. Oh, you should have seen the sheen of hate in their eyes. And when their lances met, Ulo's shattered, and Leo's went clean through Ulo, who landed with a thud on the ground. Sir Uren tried to give Ulo first aid (I think; he was laughing while tending him), but it didn't seem to do any good, and Ulo shortly thereafter died.
So now everyone's standing around the corpse, while Leo's squires remove Ulo's armor (what was left of it) and capture his riderless horse, when Leo starts pissing in Ulo's shield. Then a bunch of the knights from the army started to do it, too. Can you believe it? And then they start goading Leo, who really doesn't like the sons of Ulfius one bit, and Leo...Leo ties a rope to the Ulo's foot, ties the other end to his saddle, and starts to ride around in front of Silchester's main gate, dragging the corpse and screaming taunts at Ufo standing on the wall.
When Earl Robert found out, oh, he was livid. So were most of the old-timers, too, frankly. Earl Robert dressed down Leo right there in front of the entire Salisbury court. But instead of being shamed into right and courteous behavior, I think it had the opposite effect on Leo. He's not gung-ho about Earl Robert anymore, not like he used to be. And I think Earl Robert noticed.
[bloggers note: us players pretty much knew, when Greg said to Fergie, "If you fumble here, you will disgrace yourself and drag the corpse in front of Ufo..." Because of course with that kind of warning Fergie rolled a 20. And later on, when Greg gave the same kind of warning while all the characters were in front of Earl Robert, Fergie again fumbled. I like that kind of dice-rolling.—Suzanne]
Sir Mortimer enthuses
I took the Lady Betty and my six children to winter court at Camelot this December. I don't go in for that sort of thing much—I much prefer cozy fireside evenings with the locals and my trusty steward, dogs lazing in the straw, the women quietly stitching in the kitchen. Ah, Durnford! Was there ever such a lovely manor in all of Salisbury?
We made the trip even though young squire Ronald passed away at the age of 16; a tragic accident on the practice field laid my little son low. He never regained consciousness, and two days later died. We buried him in the family plot beside the chapel. Fortunately, my son Monroe is a fine, strapping young man. At Arthur's court, Sir Brastius told the assembled that he was retiring (!), and that the new Marshall, young Sir Griflet, would be marching against the sons of that scrufulous Ulfius, as they have not rendered unto the king that which is Arthur's; namely, taxes.
As soon as the weather warmed and the roads were not so muddy, I had my men gather up all my stored siege equipment and I took a large contingent to Silchester. Oh, how happy I was to advise young Marshall Griflet on exactly where along the wall to dig, where to burn, where to press our attack. I love besieging castles! And with my son at my side...it was a fine, fine summer. Sure, the siege was inconclusive—but we'll root them out next summer. And have you heard the bawdy ballads they're singing about young Sir Leodegrance? Ha! You should.
I have a lovely new palfrey this spring, and a fine new set of clothes and a pretty new hairnet...but I find my thoughts turning, not to my husband as they have in years past, but back to the Forest Sauvage, back to the King. The leaves seem less green to me this spring.
I can hardly believe it—I keep pinching myself, but it's not a dream: the Earl has given me permission to wed my beautiful Nia! Finally, all the years of secrecy will be behind us, and we can live as knight and wife.
It's funny how things work out. When I was dressed down by King Arthur in front of the entire court and Round Table, I would have guaranteed you that I'd carry that shame to my dying day. Now, though, I look at it as the start of my romance with lovely Nia, because it was after that that I approached her father, the good Earl Belinger, to ask for his tutelege in all things chivalrous. Then I met Nia, and, well...
I have one year to prepare Crowborough to receive such a beautiful bride. Wish me luck!
Another year where I did not venture beyond the borders of East Meon. Mostly, I drank. And fought with Lady Gertruda, but just to relieve my boredom. The estate's not looking too good these days.
Sir Mortimer shrugs
I stayed at home and played with the babies. But it's not like I didn't do anything. I've got a big holding. Keeping it all running smoothly takes a lot of traveling.
I keep catching poxes, though. I'm afraid I'm not looking too good these days.
521: Lions Are Hard To Kill
Sir Mortimer says
I threw a big feast for the king to celebrate the completion of Portchester; I even felt moved to swear loyalty to the Pendragon. I believe that makes me a "King's Companion" as all the young knights say. The year was capped off by the autumn birth of a son.
I hate Sussex, or maybe it's my wife. Hard to say, as it's her manor I've taken over. As soon as the weather cleared, I went off to Anglia for the King in order to surpress Saxons—good clean fun! We successfully besieged Guinnon, and in the looting that followed I somehow managed to kill approximately 40 peasants for just under 4 librum worth of goods. I don't remember much of it; I think I was drinking that morning. Anyway, Arthur was none too happy, apparently, and I took a hit for that, but then I just went back to East Meon and alarmed the countryside with tales of my summer vacation.
Sir Mortimer explains
The building and fortification of Portchester are on schedule and proceeding nicely. I've even had a little time to start work on a small castle nearby, Totton. Fortunately it was a rich year in Salisbury.
Sir Mortimer relates
King Arthur appointed me Castellan of Portsmouth.
Sir Mortimer grimaces
It was a hard year. I was hoping to go down in a blaze of glory, but somehow I survived Badon.
But we finally kicked their ass, those Saxons. Cerdic's sons better watch out next summer!
Sir Mortimer recounts
Well, a happy day: the good Count Belinger knighted my son! Monroe, Sir Monroe, is now off to Arthur's court to see what adventures he may be in, or cause to be stirred up. His mother, dear Lady Rose, would have been so proud.
I myself took one of my younger sons with me to Lincoln. Not a good trip. I was seriously wounded, which makes sitting on horseback even more painful, and my little boy ate a bad pudding and died.
I came back home to Durnforn only to learn that the sons of Cerdic had been raiding the southern edges of Salisbury, for which they will pay dearly. I also took the advice of the old men of the manor and took me a wife, a comely if low-born lass. But Betty keeps me warm at night, and does a fine job running the household, so I can't complain. Though I do find myself still walking in the gardens and thinking of Ysabet from time to time.
Sir Mortimer weeps
My dear Lady Ysabet passed away from a summer cold. I just spent the year sitting in the gardens I had built for her and looking at her grave.
Sir Mortimer sighs
Stayed at home this year, tending to my manors, my children, and my dear wife.