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Chaosium Digest Volume 01 Number 12
Chaosium Digest Volume 1, Number 12
Date: Monday, March 22, 1993
Number: 3 of 3
Contents:
The Siege of Castle Pennith [Part III] (Fergal Somers) PENDRAGON
--------------------
From: fergal somers <ftsomers@cs.tcd.ie>
Subject: The Siege of Castle Pennith [Part III: Characters]
CHARACTER: SIR ROBERT OF SILCHESTER
Player Name SIZ 14 DEX 14 STR 13
CON 15 APP 10
Homeland Silchester
Culture Cymric Religion Christ Damage 5d6
HP 29
Lord Duke Ulfius Move 3
Current Class Knight Age 33 Unconscious 7
Knockdown 14
Major Wound 15
Traits Passions
Chaste 10 / 10 Lustful Loyalty(lord) 13
Energetic 4 / 16 Lazy Love(family) 12
Forgiving 9 / 11 Vengeful Hospitality 14
Generous 11 / 9 Selfish Honor 12
Honest 8 / 12 Deceitful
Just 10 / 10 Arbitrary
Merciful 9 / 11 Cruel
Modest 11 / 9 Proud
Pious 9 / 11 Worldy
Prudent 12 / 8 Reckless
Temperate 5 / 15 Indulgent
Trusting 15 / 5 Suspicious
Valorous 13 / 7 Cowardly
Skills
Awareness 5 Folk Lore 11 Read (.......) 0
Boating 2 Gaming 10 Recognise 6
Chirurgery 2 Hawking 8 Religion (Christ) 2
Compose 1 Heraldry 12 Romance 1
Courtesy 4 Hunting 14 Singing 1
Dancing 4 Industry 3 Stewardship 13
Faerie Lore 5 Intrigue 5 Swimming 2
First Aid 12 Orate 2 Tourney 0
Flirting 2 Play (.....) 0
Battle Skills
Battle 13 Horsemanship 13 Sword 16 Lance 13
Dagger 5
Armor Type (10 pts) Cash 1#
Horse charger Damage 6d6 Move 8
Shield (6pts), Sword, Lance, Dagger.
Character Description: Sir Robert
You are a venerable household knight, semi-retired after many long
years of active duty. You've seen knights come and go and on the
whole things were a lot simpler when Uther was King. At least you
knew who your enemies were. Now, the whole of England seems to be up
in arms against itself. And, these Saxon raiders are becoming ever
more daring, threatening perhaps even the walls of Silchester before
too long. Wouldn't have happened in your father's day.
[ You remember your father's hands picking you up and setting you on
the enormous creature. Fear of falling off and under the feet of this
large animal made you pull the reigns tight. The animal's heads jerks
back in response to the pull on the bit. It starts to move. "Easy,
don't jerk her lad!" You slacken your grip and straighten up in the
saddle. The animal quiets, you smile, your father smiles back and
takes the reigns to lead the horse... ]
Perhaps you should have had children of your own. Still, with age
comes responsibility, and your time is no longer your own. There's the
training of the squires for one thing. What, with all the excitement
in recent years, skirmishes and battles and what not, they've been
left to fend for themselves. Some of them can still barely hold a
sword, more concerned with games and making sport than training.
Can't expect them to, can you, when knights act no better than common
bandits. No respect. That's the problem. Of course, you try your
best to keep them in line. Teach them the proper order and dignity of
knighthood, but for what return? Amig's the worst, can't keep his
mind on what he's doing, head always lost in some cloud. Still he's a
good lad all the same, be a good knight too if he keeps his head.
[ The horse lept backwards, hooves skitterring on the shale. You tried
to keep it under control, just like you'd been taught, but the smell
of the beast and howls that came from somewhere out of that dank foggy
air, invaded and cleared your reason, leaving only one thought: run!
So, you untied your bags, loosed the horse into the darkenss and ran
and kept running; running from the dreadful howls and the desperate
whinnying that followed... ]
Gwair now he's one to watch. Devious little toad, where does he get
off, shouting orders to you. Still, he has the unnatural ability to
be everywhere, always watching with that perpetually smug grin of his.
Why Duke Ulfius puts up with his slimy, poisoned little murmurings is
a mystery. If Uther was still here, Gwair would be relegated to court
jester. Uther, now there was a man of action......
Current
Duke Ulfius has asked you to head a mission to Castle Pennith to
strengthen their forces. This castle must not fall to the Saxons for
it would be costly to take back; and would act as a perfect base to
invade Salisbury. Sir Amig and Sir Gwair are to go with you as well as
some knights from Windsor (Sir Ieuan, Sir Domicus, Sir Peter).
Sir Ieuan wears his hair in saxon braids, how strange! There's
obviously some argument going on between Sir Ieuan and Sir Domicus, as
neither has much to say to the other. Sir Peter, now there's a knight
of excellent breeding, you instantly can tell you know, from the way
he carries himself.
CHARACTER: SIR AMIG
Player Name SIZ 15 DEX 8 STR 11
CON 14 APP 14
Homeland Silchester
Culture Cymric Religion Christ Damage 4d6 HP 29
Lord Duke Ulfius Move 2
Current Class Knight Age 21 Unconscious 7
Knockdown 15
Major Wound 14
Traits Passions
Chaste 8 / 12 Lustful Loyalty(lord) 16
Energetic 13 / 7 Lazy Love(family) 13
Forgiving 16 / 4 Vengeful Hospitality 9
Generous 12 / 8 Selfish Honor 10
Honest 12 / 8 Deceitful
Just 10 / 10 Arbitrary
Merciful 17 / 3 Cruel
Modest 16 / 4 Proud
Pious 17 / 3 Worldy
Prudent 7 / 13 Reckless
Temperate 4 / 16 Indulgent
Trusting 15 / 5 Suspicious
Valorous 15 / 5 Cowardly
Skills
Awareness 6 Folk Lore 14 Read (.......) 0
Boating 1 Gaming 3 Recognise 0
Chirurgery 1 Hawking 3 Religion (Christ)8
Compose 0 Heraldry 0 Romance 0
Courtesy 3 Hunting 2 Singing 2
Dancing 2 Industry 0 Stewardship 2
Faerie Lore 7 Intrigue 5 Swimming 2
First Aid 10 Orate 3 Tourney 0
Flirting 4 Play (.......) 0
Battle Skills
Battle 10 Horsemanship 14 Sword 11 Lance 11
Dagger 7
Armor Type (10 pts) Cash 100d
Horse charger Damage 6d6 Move 8
Shield (6pts), Sword, Lance, Dagger
Character Description: Amig
You've just been knighted and now this, your first adventure. Surely,
this is fate once again smiling on you. Oh, you can't wait to be
outside riding through the countryside. You want to say to everyone
"I am Sir Amig" Sir, Sir, Sir! You still can't believe it's finally
happened and now a quest, with strange creatures to kill, villainous
knights to be vanquished and most importantly beautiful damsels to be
rescued!
[ You'd waited for hours outside her window. You'd brought her
flowers, fetched water from the well for her. She laughed at your
jokes and how she laughed: first the corners of her mouth would
crinkle, lips would part to reveal a perfect row of pearly teeth and
then she would laugh and giggle and then when the laughter died she'd
turn and look at you with those blue, blue eyes and smile. Oh, if one
day she would smile for you and you alone! How long had you been
waiting one hour, two? She'd said she had chores to do all evening,
so you'd come back later; but now the house was quie. Surely it was
still too early for folks to be in bed. Maybe you should throw a stone
at her window or something - seemed to work in the tales. Lucky for
you that you bent down to pick-up a good sized one, because at that
instant, round the side of the house she came, arm and arm with Sir
Bairth, that oaf, giggling conspiratorily as she lead him inside. You
remained crouched down till all was finally quiet again and hurried
home... ]
Still must keep my mind on what I'm doing. Heads always in the clouds,
that's what Sir Robert says and it's true. He's not so bad, although
he does grate on your nerves from time to time with his cratchety old
ways.
Current
Sir Robert has asked you to accompany him to Castle Pennith to
strengthen their forces. This castle must not fall to the Saxons for
it would be costly to take back; and would act as a perfect base to
invade Salisbury. Sir Gwair and some knights from Windsor (Sir Ieuan,
Sir Domicus, Sir Peter) are to accompany you.
Sir Ieuan wears his hair in saxon braids, how strange! There's
obviously some argument going on between Sir Ieuan and Sir Domicus, as
neither has much to say to the other. Sir Peter, now there's a knight
of excellent breeding, Sir Robert says you instantly can tell, from
the way he carries himself.
CHARACTER: SIR GWAIR
Player Name SIZ 12 DEX 15 STR 10
CON 13 APP 11
Homeland Silchester
Culture Cymric Religion Christ Damage 4d6 HP 25
Lord Duke Ulfius Move 3
Current Class Knight Age 30 Unconscious 5
Knockdown 12
Major Wound 13
Traits Passions
Chaste 10 / 10 Lustful Loyalty(lord) 8
Energetic 6 / 14 Lazy Love(family) 10
Forgiving 8 / 12 Vengeful Hospitality 9
Generous 10 / 10 Selfish Honor 5
Honest 5 / 15 Deceitful
Just 10 / 10 Arbitrary
Merciful 8 / 12 Cruel
Modest 12 / 8 Proud
Pious 7 / 13 Worldy
Prudent 14 / 6 Reckless
Temperate 11 / 9 Indulgent
Trusting 6 / 14 Suspicious
Valorous 9 / 11 Cowardly
Skills
Awareness 11 Folk Lore 6 Read (.......) 0
Boating 1 Gaming 10 Recognise 5
Chirurgery 1 Hawking 3 Religion (Christ)1
Compose 0 Heraldry 13 Romance 9
Courtesy 2 Hunting 12 Singing 2
Dancing 3 Industry 0 Stewardship 2
Faerie Lore 2 Intrigue 12 Swimming 2
First Aid 6 Orate 0 Tourney 0
Flirting 2 Play (.......) 0
Battle Skills
Battle 10 Horsemanship 11 Sword 14 Lance 10
Dagger 14
Armor Type (10 pts) Cash 1#
Horse charger Damage 6d6 Move 8
Shield (6pts), Sword, Lance, Dagger
Character Description: Gwair
Being a knight has all the advantages and benefits you thought it
would - easy life, good food, women and money. You've double dealt
and schemed your way into a position of relative power in the court.
Yes, it has all been worth it.
[ The young knight's head slumped onto his chest as he slipped into a
drunken sleep. What good fortune to meet such a naive fool in such an
isolated area. Took three full casks of wine to do it; hey but why
deny a dying man his last pleasure. He never stirs as you neatly slit
his throat. Takes a few hours to hide the body and scrape the coat of
arms off the shield, and Dwain the bandit emerges as Sir Gwair, knight
errant, in search of a warm castle. ]
Current
However, of late things haven't been too good. What with all the
raids and all, ever since Uther died (hah! poisoned more like) things
have definitely gone downhill. Just when you were ready to start a
quieter life, Ulfius wants you to accompany that dolt Robert and the
boy Amig to help protect some castle miles from God knows where.
Somehow, you're not sure how, but somehow Robert managed this. You've
never trusted him, pompass ass full of obviously fabricated stories
about his parts in great quests. Still handy with a sword in a tight
spot though. Let's face it you don't live that long and with get that
many battle scars without knowing how to use a sword. Still this is
your duty and you intend seeing it out alive and with as little
personal risk as possible.
Three knights accompany you from Windsor. Sir Ieuan wears his hair in
saxon braids, how strange! There's obviously some argument going on
between Sir Ieuan and Sir Domicus, as neither has much to say to the
other. Perhaps, you can use this to your advantage. Sir Peter, seems
to be well cultured, and where there's culture there's money.
CHARACTER: SIR DOMICUS
Player Name SIZ 13 DEX 14 STR 12
CON 12 APP 8
Homeland Trinovantes Exile
Culture Roman Religion Christ Damage 4d6 HP 25
Lord Sir Herringdale the Constable Move 3
Current Class Knight Age 24 Unconscious 6
Knockdown 13
Major Wound 12
Traits Passions
Chaste 10 / 10 Lustful Loyalty(lord) 13
Energetic 11 / 9 Lazy Love(family) 14
Forgiving 5 / 15 Vengeful Hospitality 10
Generous 9 / 11 Selfish Honor 13
Honest 14 / 6 Deceitful Hate(Saxon) 16
Just 12 / 8 Arbitrary
Merciful 7 / 13 Cruel
Modest 10 / 10 Proud
Pious 12 / 8 Worldy
Prudent 8 / 12 Reckless
Temperate 11 / 9 Indulgent
Trusting 5 / 15 Suspicious
Valorous 15 / 5 Cowardly
Skills
Awareness 12 Folk Lore 10 Read (latin) 10
Boating 4 Gaming 3 Recognise 11
Chirurgery 1 Hawking 3 Religion (Christ)10
Compose 0 Heraldry 7 Romance 9
Courtesy 5 Hunting 8 Singing 2
Dancing 2 Industry 0 Stewardship 2
Faerie Lore 2 Intrigue 5 Swimming 2
First Aid 11 Orate 3 Tourney 0
Flirting 4 Play (..........) 0
Battle Skills
Battle 10 Horsemanship 10 Sword 16 Lance 10
Dagger 4
Armor Type (10 pts) Cash 1#
Horse charger Damage 6d6 Move 8
Shield (6pts), Sword, Lance, Dagger
Character Description: Sir Domicus
The proud tribe of Trinovantes, last vestige of noble roman blood,
were conquered and riven from their homelands in the year of our lord
four hundred and eighty-five by the Saxon horde. Your people, once
bound together by the land they farmed, scattered to the four winds,
never to be whole again. Your heritage and your birthright were
stolen, and in its place a begging bowl was placed. Your father
finally brought you to Windsor castle and offered his sword to Sir
Herringdale to use to rid this land of the Saxon blight; and so you
once again found a home.
[ Tinicus your brother stood up, swaying a little and put down his
mug. He'd been drinking all day and was working himself up into one
of his tempers. His mates were goading him on and soon you knew
there'd be trouble. Three traders, known to deal with the Saxon
villagers down the coast had entered the inn and were pointedly
ignoring your brothers jibes. You pulled at your brothers jerkin and
he turned around and pushed you back. "I think Dom here is anxious to
get home! Why doesn't someone show him the door" With that rough hands
pulled and grabbed, and soon you were deposited behind a closed door.
You waited outside, crouched down in the dark as voices were quickly
raised. Then came that sound you most feared, that long scathing
sound of metal being drawn slowly against metal, a sword unsheathed.
You started hammering on the door, a cry and the door flew open
knocking you to the ground, as men ran from the inn. You ventured
inside, shafts of sunlight illuminating the overturned tables and
debris; but in the middle, lying completely still was the body of your
brother Tinicus. ]
They hung those saxon traitors not more than a week later, but all you
were left with was Tinicus' armor, being the only heir you were to
take Tinicus' place and be trained for knighthood to carry on the war
which your father started.
Current
You've been asked by Sir Herringdale to answer Duke Ulfius' of
Silchester's rally to battle; but who did they give you to ride with:
Sir Peter! That milksop wouldn't know the right end of a sword if he
sat on it. Still, perhaps a few nights sleeping outside will toughen
that lillywhite skin the ladies dote over so much. While stationed in
Silchester you've been asked to accompany four knights: Sir Robert,
Sir Amig, Sir Ieuan and Sir Gwair to Castle Pennith, which is expected
to be under attack from Saxon forces any day now. What a bunch! Sir
Ieuan has the audacity to wear his hair in a saxon fashion, Sir Amig
is a boy, Sir Robert an old man and Sir Gwair doesn't look the
slightest bit interested in the mission.
Pendragon Adventure
CHARACTER: SIR IEUAN (OSRIC)
Player Name SIZ 15 DEX 11 STR 16
CON 15 APP 12
Homeland Regenes Exile
Culture Cymric/Saxon Religion Christ Damage 5d6 HP 30
Lord Earl Hertford (St. Albans) Move 3
Current Class Knight Age 25 Unconscious 8
Knockdown 15
Major Wound 15
Traits Passions
Chaste 10 / 10 Lustful Loyalty(lord) 12
Energetic 12 / 8 Lazy Love(family) 8
Forgiving 5 / 15 Vengeful Hospitality 10
Generous 10 / 10 Selfish Honor 12
Honest 12 / 8 Deceitful
Just 10 / 10 Arbitrary
Merciful 8 / 12 Cruel
Modest 11 / 9 Proud
Pious 9 / 11 Worldy
Prudent 16 / 4 Reckless
Temperate 6 / 14 Indulgent
Trusting 8 / 12 Suspicious
Valorous 16 / 4 Cowardly
Skills
Awareness 13 Folk Lore 8 Read (Saxon) 9
Boating 4 Gaming 4 Recognise 12
Chirurgery 8 Hawking 1 Religion (Christ)11
Compose 2 Heraldry 3 Romance 2
Courtesy 2 Hunting 11 Singing 3
Dancing 7 Industry 2 Stewardship 2
Faerie Lore 5 Intrigue 7 Swimming 2
First Aid 10 Orate 4 Tourney 0
Flirting 2 Play (Pipes) 5 Religion(Wotan) 11
Battle Skills
Battle 10 Horsemanship 13 Sword 17 Lance 13
Dagger 7 Axe 13
Armor Type (10 pts) Cash 240d
Horse charger Damage 6d6 Move 8
Shield (6pts), Sword, Lance, Axe
Character Description: Sir Ieuan
[ First they came to trade, then they came to take. They burned and
torched they're way throught the village, killing those who raised
swords against them, leaving the women and children to run. It was not
a slaughter, they later told him, just a necessary exercise, they
needed the land for their people as well. This was a terrible age... ]
Your people, the Regenes, were driven from their lands when you were
still young and became the Regenes Exiles, a sorry clan scattered upon
the hospitality of lords throughout England. You however were
captured, and unlike the stories, Saxons didn't kill or eat children,
they valued them as a measure of their tribes wealth. Your noble
blood also meant possible ransom, although having no land it was
doubtful your kin would raise such a sum.
[ They gave you a new name: Osric, you'd forgotten your old one. Not
that it mattered now, you had been accepted into the clan and given
duties over the livestock to show their trust in you. They gave you a
sword and taught you to fight, but most of all they gave you a family.
The foster tied you to Beolth and Lelleth and years later they spoke
for you at your coming of age - full acceptance to the tribe. A gray
cloud flew over this to shatter this happy day as the Elders told of
your entrance to the tribe. How you were of outsiders and how outsiders
must eventually return to pay homage to your blood-parents. This gray
cloud grew and grew inside your mind till the wisdom of the Elders
forced your hand. They watched as you left.... ]
Eventually you escaped the Saxons and went to find your parents. Your
father had died and your mother, being a young woman, had remarried
and raised three new sons. There was no room for a prodigal son
returned. More importantly there was no room for you in your mother's
life.
[ You were the son she never knew. She was not your mother, you
already had one. You spoke and acted in strange ways that pained her.
She had lost a husband in the raid that had taken you. Ultimately,
you were her only link with a past which caused her great pain. A
past she never spoke of, a dead husband she never honoured, a dead son
she never knew. So, eventually you removed this pain from her and
left... ]
So you'd left and have kept going to this day. Not pitying your blood-
mother not hating your blood-father's murderers. No hate. No love.
No pain. You wear your father's coat of arms to enter the world of
Britons, but you also braid your hair in the saxon style, as a
reminder of your saxon heritage.
Current
You've decided to throw your lot in with Duke Ulfius, seems like a
good man; but the endless days waiting for a large battle are getting
to you. Then you heard about a mission to protect Castle Pennith,
well at last some honest fighting to stop you moping around. So you
volunteered..
With you from Silchester are Sir Robert an old knight, Sir Amig a boy
and Sir Gwair a shifty-eyed weasel. From Windsor come Sir Domicus an
arrogant bore, and Sir Peter duc some-french-sounding-aristocrat-name.
Should be a bundle of laughs.
CHARACTER: SIR PETER (DUC RENAUD)
Player Name SIZ 13 DEX 10 STR 15
CON 11 APP 16
Homeland Logres
Culture Cymric Religion Christ Damage 5d6 HP 24
Lord Duke Ulfius (Silchester) Move 3
Current Class Knight Age 25 Unconscious 6
Knockdown 13
Major Wound 11
Traits Passions
Chaste 4 / 16 Lustful Loyalty(lord) 12
Energetic 10 / 10 Lazy Love(family) 11
Forgiving 4 / 16 Vengeful Hospitality 13
Generous 9 / 11 Selfish Honor 10
Honest 9 / 11 Deceitful Hate(Saxon) 12
Just 12 / 8 Arbitrary
Merciful 10 / 10 Cruel
Modest 5 / 15 Proud
Pious 13 / 7 Worldy
Prudent 15 / 5 Reckless
Temperate 8 / 12 Indulgent
Trusting 12 / 8 Suspicious
Valorous 15 / 5 Cowardly
Skills
Awareness 9 Folk Lore 4 Read (......) 0
Boating 5 Gaming 1 Recognise 10
Chirurgery 2 Hawking 2 Religion (Christ)4
Compose 0 Heraldry 5 Romance 5
Courtesy 10 Hunting 12 Singing 8
Dancing 0 Industry 0 Stewardship 1
Faerie Lore 2 Intrigue 3 Swimming 2
First Aid 10 Orate 3 Tourney 0
Flirting 8 Play (......) 0
Battle Skills
Battle 13 Horsemanship 13 Sword 15 Lance 12
Dagger 10 Axe 13
Armor Type (10 pts) Cash 1#
Horse charger Damage 6d6 Move 8
Shield (6pts), Sword, Lance, Dagger.
Character Description: Sir Peter
[ Knighthood, the embodiment of law and morality, power and prestige.
What matter some smudge upon the birth, it is what we do, how we carry
ourselves which sets us apart from commonfolk. Such scandalous matters
you so far managed to keep from the court ladies you lavish so much
attention on. This could become increasingly tricky, your father was
not very discreet and earned more than just a little notoreity. ]
You are the illegitimate son of Gilles duc Renaud, chivalric knight
and secret lover to more than half of England's ladies or so they say.
Illegitimacy was not necessarily a stain against your character in
those dark ages: King Arthur was illegitimate. Still, in those times
it was something less than a perfect state of grace.
[ Knighthood is a sacred order, an order built to go beyond mere
squabbles over land or pastures. It can be a tool by which man can
reach a higher state of grace removed from the dirt and drudge of
common life. The French have the right idea, knighthood as an ideal
rather than a merely licence for mercenaries to kill and pillage. If
only your compatriots understood what true christian devotion
meant..... ]
Current
Sir Herringdale, a good lord, if somewhat rough around the edges has
ordered you and the everso dour Sir Domicus to lend support to Duke
Ulfius. No sooner are you there savouring the delights of pastures
new, when the call to protect Castle Pennith comes. You seem to
remember Lord Pennith, vaguely, didn't he have a daughter... and it
may be a chance to teach God's righteous vengence on these heathen
Saxons.
Duke Ulfius also sends Sir Robert, one of those tough-as-old-boots
knights; Sir Amig, a young knight, probably his first adventure; Sir
Gwair - a noxious little toad; and Sir Ieuan a complete enigma - Saxon
braids and roman arms, strange troupe!
--------------------
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