Jim Patching
United Kingdom
Cardiff
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“I swear, if I have to hear one more story about how Lancelot rescued a cross-eyed duck from a tower made of marzipan guarded by badgers with handlebar moustaches I am going to kill someone.”
All of the knights are at court and Sir Owen is not happy that the Ladies are constantly gossiping about Sir Lancelot’s exploits.
“He’s so dreamy,” swoons a beautiful maid.
“I wish he would attend court more often,” coos a gorgeous lady.
“What about our exploits?” Sir Owen mutters bitterly to his companions. “How many Magical Mill Raping Bulls has Lancelot killed, eh? Right, the next time some faceless unknown guy shows up lets just job him because we all know it’s going to be Lancelot dicking around and trying to steal all the glory.”
As Owen’s companions shake their heads Sir Gawaine strides past and takes a moment to say to Owen “Sad news about Sir Marhaus.”
Sir Marhause was one of the Triple Questors and a good friend of Sir Owen. His father was King Anguish of Leinster and every year Anguish would send his son to Cornwall to exact tribute from King Mark’s domain there. This year a young champion named Tristram challenged Sir Marhause and killed him in single combat.
“I can’t quite believe he’s dead,” says Sir Owen sorrowfully.
“At least he gave Mark’s champion a damn good kicking,” says Gawaine with a grin on his face. “Word is, King Mark’s physicians could do nothing for his wounds so they placed the grievously wounded chap in a row boat and pushed him out to sea.”
There is a pause whilst the knights digest this.
“Is that supposed to help?” asks Sir Breakius.
“I can just picture the scene,” says Sir Hywel. “The physician turns to King Mark – ‘your majesty, we’ve tried everything we can to save the lad but to no avail. We’ve decided as a last resort to try out a new experimental medical technique – place him in a boat and push him out to sea.’ King Mark obviously replies ‘Is that going to help him?’ to which the physician says ‘can’t do any harm!’”
“Guys,” says Marshal Arkan, “the next time I get criticalled, do not stick me in a boat and cast me adrift in the ocean.”
The courtly announcements begin.
Arthur’s two Irish allies are present at Camelot – King Anguish of Leinster and King Galeholt of Dalriada. They’ve obviously been planning with Arthur, as the High King of the Britons announces that he is going to invade Ireland and assist his two allies in defeating King Muirchertach, the High King of Ireland!
As a side note, two mute dwarves also arrive at court, sent by King Pellinore’s widow to act as servants for the High Queen.
The Invasion of Ireland
Arthur sends our knights to secure a beachhead on the east coast of Ireland, a task they perform with aplomb. The rest of the Britons deploy and move inland. It’s not long before they are met by the army of King Muirchertach, High King of Ireland. A fierce battle is fought near the town of Tara. As usual, Marshal Arkan leads the Salisbury contingent.
During the course of the fight, Arkan takes no less than three critical hits.
Fortunately for him the first two are delivered by complete crap heads and are quite feeble as far as critical hits go but the third one lays him out flat and reduces him to zero hit points. The Templar Sir Breakius takes command of the unit and guides them through the rest of the battle, which mercifully is quite short. The Irish army is defeated and King Muirchertach submits to the rule of Arthur.
However, not all of the Irish kingdoms surrender. In the far north the small kingdom of Ailech refuses to capitulate. Worse than that, after questioning some prisoners the Britons discover that the king of Ailech has sent a group of men led by a chap called Connor to try to raise an ancient Irish hero named Cú Chulainn from the dead, to aid them in their time of need.
Cú Chulainn
“We can’t be having that,” declares Arthur. “Arkan, Breakius, Hywel, Owen – ride forth and prevent these men from completing their foul, necromantic plot!”
“At once my lord,” says Sir Hywel, “except Arkan is lying in hospital grievously wounded. We’ll take his son Sir Dax in his stead.”
“Good,” says Arthur. “How bad is Arkan?”
“Well put it this way,” says Sir Hywel, “He couldn’t look any worse if he’d been on the wrong end of the amorous attentions of a Magical Mill-Raping Bull.”
The Plot To Raise Cú Chulainn
Our knights ride out, taking back-up in the form of Sir Brand (a poor knight from Salisbury) and Henry Hook (Marshal Arkan’s accomplished, albeit dastardly, huntsman). With a tracker like Henry Hook at their disposal it doesn’t take them long before they pick up the trail of the band of Irish heroes.
The Irish are on foot and are making no effort to hide their tracks, whilst our knights are well equipped with several horses each. As a result of this it only takes them a couple of days before they catch up with them. The Irish are in the distance and between them and our knights is a wide river. On the other side of the river is a herd of cattle. It looks as though a rickety bridge once span the river but it’s been set on fire and is completely unusable.
The knights of Salisbury waste no time and drive their horses into the fast flowing torrent. Halfway across, a giant eel bursts out of the frothing surface and wraps itself around the neck and fore-quarters of Sir Hywel’s horse. The animal is panicked and only by dint of his expert horsemanship skill does Sir Hywel manage to stay in the saddle. The eel begins crushing the life out of the mighty steed and so Sirs Hywel, Breakius and Owen all begin stabbing and hacking at the eel’s scaly hide. The beast has plates as thick as the strongest armour but just as it looks as though Sir Hywel’s horse is doomed to a watery grave the knights manage to inflict enough damage to force the monster to retreat.
As our knights wearily ride their horses up onto the far bank there is a loud, ear-splitting howl. As if from nowhere, a massive wolf has appeared.
Its presence is enough to startle the herd of cattle that had been peaceably chewing the cud on the riverbank and they stampede. Almost as if by design, the wolf steers the charging herd straight at our knights. The more experienced knights have no trouble in guiding their horses out of harms way, but young Sir Dax has difficulty getting his panicked mount to follow instructions. The animal turns one way, then another and before it has time to do anything else the herd of cows smash straight over it. Dax’s horse is killed and Sir Dax himself is severely battered. He staggers out of the crowd of cattle covered in dust, his armour and clothes rent and a large hoof print mashed into his helmet.
The other knights look for the wolf but there is no sign of it.
As the cows charge across the river, the bull turns back. It’s eyes glint red, it paws the earth angrily and charges back at our heroes. Although it fights fiercely it is no match for our skilled veterans and they manage to dispatch it without too much difficulty.
“What the hell was that all about?” wonders Sir Breakius.
“No idea,” says Sir Hywel. “And who’s she?”
Sir Hywel points at a lady in a black dress not more than ten yards away. She bears the same wounds that our knights inflicted on the eel and the bull and, although they should be more than enough to kill her, she is carrying a large keg as if it weighed nothing. The terrain all around is flat and open and there should be no way her approach could have gone un-detected.
“There’s something fishy going on here,” says Sir Owen. “I think it’s time for a little magic of our own.” He whips out the magical true-seeing stone recovered from his father’s body last year and holds the hole up to his eye. “Let’s see who you really are,” he grunts.
If Pendragon had a sanity stat I would most certainly be making Sir Owen roll against it at this point. If you stare at something through the hole in the centre of the true seeing stone all illusions and glamour are dispelled and you see things as they truly are and Owen finds himself staring at the true form of The Morrigan, the celtic goddess of Battle and Strife.
One failed heavily modified valour roll later..
Without a word Sir Owen turns tail and flees back the way they came. Sir Hywel rides after him, concern etched on his face. “What’s the matter Owen?” he calls. “Stop running and calm down!”
One failed not quite so heavily modified valour roll later..
Owen keeps running, splashing through the river and stumbling out onto the other side. Hywel keeps pace with him, all the while urging him to stop. Owen seems to be trying to say something but can’t articulate anything other than a gibber. With a supreme effort of will he attempts to calm down enough to explain himself.
One failed slightly modified valour roll later..
“She’s going to kill us all!” wails Owen, as he continues bolting as far away from the woman as his legs will carry him. Hywel rides alongside him and says “dude, pull yourself together!”
One failed completely unmodified valour roll later..
Owen keeps running until his legs give way underneath him. They’re freakin’ miles away from their companions now. Sir Hywel is clearly a true friend as he stays with Owen the whole time until he can pull himself together.
*
Meanwhile, the Morrigan merely deposits the keg near Sirs Breakius, Dax, Brand and Henry Hook and then without a word turns into a crow and flies away.
Looking from the keg to the fleeing figure of Sir Owen to Sir Dax, Sir Breakius the Templar says “I ‘aint got a clue what all that was about but we’ve got to get on after those Irish knaves. Squires – you stay here and guard the keg. If Owen and Hywel come back tell them where we went. Dax, Brand, Hook – we’ve got to catch those guys!”
Hook leads the way, following the tracks left by the party with consummate skill. Presently the tracks split into two. “About eight men took the left trail down towards that rocky gully,” explains Henry Hook, “Whilst another three took the right hand path up into the hills.”
Breakius thinks for a moment before saying “we take the right hand path.” They leave a marker on the trail indicating what direction they went and head off. The path leads into an area full of ancient burial mounds. It’s not long before they come upon the three men they’ve been chasing, desperately digging into the side of one of the barrows. At the approach of our knights they stop their digging and turn to face them. Sir Breakius draws his sword and murmurs “Let’s be having you.”
*
Sir Owen and Sir Hywel have returned to the squires and the keg. They’re well behind the others and so they decide to investigate the small barrel.
“Maybe you should check it out using that stone of true seeing?” suggests Sir Hywel to Sir Owen.
“fuck right off,” says Sir Owen. “I’m not using that thing ever again. I should have left it buried with my father.”
Hywel takes the stone and examines the barrel with it himself. It’s just a barrel with a simple stopper. He removes the stopper and finds that the keg appears to be full of milk. He examines the milk using the stone - “You can’t be too careful” – it appears to be normal milk. He tastes a small amount. “Hmm, refreshing,” he beams.
“Very good,” says Sir Owen, “but perhaps we should get after our companions?”
The two knights follow the trail and when they reach the split in the tracks they follow Breakius’s sign heading to the hills. They don’t travel far before encountering the rest of their party heading back. Dax is slung over the back of Breakius’s horse.
“What happened?” asks Owen.
“We found Connor and killed him and his companions,” says Breakius. We dug into Cu Cuchlain’s barrow and set fire to his corpse. Unfortunately they beat the shit out of Dax.”
“At least the job’s done,” says Sir Hywel. “We can head back now.”
“Not quite yet,” says Sir Breakius. “Hook says eight of the Irish veered off down towards the gully back there. We’re going to find those men and make sure the job’s finished properly.”
They send Dax back to the squires with Sir Brand and follow the other tracks to the gully. Before they reach the rocky ravine, the tracks seem to completely disappear. Henry Hook takes a second look and determines that they haven’t vanished; they’ve just been deliberately obscured. He traces them to a nearby formation of rocks.
“I think they’re hiding behind those boulders,” he whispers.
Our knights determine to sneak up on the would-be ambushers. They send Hook and Sir Hywel’s squire (incidently the only squire still with the party now) down to the gully to act as if they’re following the apparent direction the tracks were heading in whilst our remaining knights sneak up to the rocks. As the knights approach the boulders they surmise that the hidden men have obviously spotted Hook and the squire as they’re chortling about how they’re walking straight into the ‘trap’.
With a roar the three knights bound over the rocks and fall upon their Irish quarry. For un-armoured and poorly equipped knaves the Irish fight surprisingly well and although they are all eventually killed they manage to wound Sir Hywel enough that he loses consciousness.
As Sir Owen stoops to pick up his wounded comrade and Sir Breakius wipes the blood from his sword they are startled to hear an ear-splitting roar from the direction of the gully. Peering around the boulders they are alarmed to see Henry Hook and Sir Hywel’s squire fleeing as fast as they can from an enormous four-armed brute – a Formorian! Henry Hook has clearly played Call of Cthulhu as he’s sharp enough to realise that he doesn’t have to outrun the Formorian – he just has to outrun the squire! In a dastardly move he trips the squire and sends him sprawling into the dirt.
The squire is more nimble than he appears and is back on his feet in a flash. “What the hell are you doing!” he yells at Henry Hook. “I thought we were – ARGH!!”
The squire yells in pain as Henry Hook fires an arrow into his thigh. By now Sir Owen is back at the horses. He throws the comatose form of Sir Hywel across one of the steeds, then leaps into his own saddle and rides down to scoop up the fallen squire. The Formorian is close by and hurls a rock at them in anger, but Owen’s horsemanship is sufficient enough to avoid the missile. Meanwhile Breakius lays out Henry Hook with a well-placed punch to the face. He resists the urge to execute the villain and instead slings him on the back of his horse. “He’s Arkan’s man, he can sort him out!” he explains to Owen as he rides back up.
With everyone mounted up they make their escape.
Rough Justice
Back at the hospital at Arthur’s camp:
Sir Arkan is famous enough to have his own room to recuperate in at the field hospital. He shares it with his son Dax who is recovering from the terrible wound inflicted on him by Connor. Breakius has delivered Henry Hook to the Marshal and Arkan now sits on the edge of his bed listening to the story of what happened with an impassive face.
After the tale is done Arkan looks at Breakius and says “leave us.” Turning back to Hook he shakes his head and says “you’ve left me with very little choice as to how to treat you.”
“Listen my lord,” says Henry Hook slyly. “If you try sending me off for public execution I’ll tell everyone about how you asked me to take any opportunity I get to put an arrow in Breakius’s back.”
“That was a joke,” says Arkan. “Do you always take everything so literally?”
“I didn’t see it as a joke. I’m sure other people wouldn’t either.”
Arkan sits there for a moment nodding his head, almost like he’s digesting Henry Hook’s words. Then, in one fluid motion, he draws his sword and plunges it into Henry Hook’s guts. The huntsman stands there for a moment with a surprised look on his face before Arkan kicks him off to fall to the ground (in the process collecting more checks in negative personality traits to go with his collection). Given Henry Hook’s cowardly actions the other knights aren’t too upset with Arkan’s rough justice and clandestinely remove the corpse from the hospital.
With Ireland subdued, the Britons return home. That autumn a fierce storm blows in and ravages the harvest. It’s a hard winter for everyone and many families go hungry. The wise men and priests of Logres determine that the wind is no natural phenomenon but is the work of a Saxon witch operating out of rebellious East Anglia. Looks like next year could involve some good old-fashioned Saxon bashing.
*
You can find the previous adventures of the Cardiff Boys on this Geeklist
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Im pretty sure i got shot in the back somewhere there trying to save someone...
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Posted Sun Dec 4, 2011 9:57 pm
