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:: Series: < Forged from the Worst >
Summary:
In which Sir Weydlyn confronts his fear and makes a solemn promise to Beatrice.
Sir Weydlyn and Beatrice spend an uneventful and rather quiet evening camping.
Sir Weydlyn tending and staring into the fire, and Beatrice brushing Light’s
Return. Several paces outside the fire ring, a placid skunk quietly watches,
wondering if it too might appreciate a brushing from the woman.
In the morning, they dowse the coals, forage a simple meal and begin their
journey. The two riders cross the dry hills making for the barren river valley,
choked by slate and slag.
Ever Working Through Procedures
I check and there is no barrier between 7,2 and 6,3.
And I realize I’m uncertain about what to do if there’s a Myth on the Hex.
Ending a phase in the Hex containing a Myth always reveals its next Omen without
making a Wilderness Roll. When possible the Knights also get the drop on the
Omen.
—Mythic Bastionland
page 18
So the for Trek procedure (e.g. moving 1 Hex) is:
- Check for barrier
- When none
- Cross and check for myth
- When present encounter next Oment of the Myth
- When none make Wilderness Roll
Gallop has a different procedure.
Thus far, I have only performed Trek. I take a bit of time and add a travel
function to the Mythic Bastionland package. As of <2025-12-16 Tue> it only
handles Treks.
I consult the function and get:
Trekking from (7 . 4) to (6 . 6). You move to (6 . 6), and reveal the next Omen
for The Judge (the nearest Myth).
(Note: the output uses double-height coordinates)
Which leads me to writing a function to help me track omens revealed. But I
digress with this lengthy tangent.
A Courtyard of Judgment
They follow the bluff along the eastern bank of the river, the morning sun
dancing upon the wide cobalt colored river. The slate and slag spreading along
the eastern horizon. Here and there they note a herons, some blue, others
green, standing in the shallows. Their attention to the hunt.
As they follow the bow there amidst large menhirs and dead ash trees they see a
courtyard in black and white, carved seats in a circle.
Beatrice halts Light’s Return and soothes her to maintain a silence. Sir
Weydlyn, takes note, and himself halts, though not as concerned with maintaining
silence.
“The court,” says Beatrice in a nerve-pinched whisper.
“The court?”
“Yes, I recognize this, it is a court of Amrageft,” whispers Beatrice.
“Is Amrageft there?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Then go and check.”
“What?” asks Beatrice.
“Go and check. If this is the court of Amrageft, she’s already passed judgment
on you once, so there’s nothing more to fear,” says Sir Weydlyn, eyeing the
circle, still considering that Beatrice might herself be untrue.
“Me? Why you villain. Your Oath is to Seek the Myths…and one is right before
you, yet you cower behind me,” replies Beatrice.
As they converse, they hear vague voices echoing and arguing from the courtyard.
“You say it is a Myth,” says Weydlyn, his voice rising as a vein on his temple
throbs and his face reddens, “yet the truth of your story hangs in the balance.
Perhaps nothing but devils breath.”
Beatrice’s nostrils flare, her eyes widen, as she walks Light’s Return up beside
Ingot. Through halting breaths she says, “You coward. You would send me forth
as sacrifice to maintain your knighthood.”
Sir Weydlyn raises his gauntlet, Beatrice flinches. Weydlyn pauses, noting the
passion and bravery in Beatrice’s words. Slowly he lowers his fist. Then
lowers his head.
“I see,” says Beatrice, as she grabs the bundle of javelins, and makes for the
courtyard, passing between two large stones and onto the white and black
flagstones.
To Face Ones Judgment
In a firm resounding voice, Beatrice proclaims, “I come seeking the writ of
judgment against Sir Beatrice, the Violet Knight.”
As Sir Weydlyn with head bowed deep, raises to look between the stones, the
echoing voices stop. And one voice, now loud, barking and bitter, says in
baritone “What of this claim, oh wretched Beatrice?”
“I seek this writ so I may prove true a warning to those who heed not the laws
of Ambrageft,” commands Beatrice, “I demand that you, Muntin, produce this
writ.”
From between the stones Sir Weydlyn sees Beatrice now talking with a tall man
wearing a checkered longcoat, holding a grim polehook.
“Muntin,” mutters Sir Weydlyn, as he watches on seeing the tall man pull a
singular scroll from his longcoat, and unfurl it.
“Be it known throughout the land, I Ambrageft of Diamond Eye, do find guilty Sir
Beatrice for the crime of under-sharpening their knightly weapons. And for
which she shall be stripped of her knighthood,” reads the barking bitter man.
As Muntin reads the scroll, Sir Weydlyn walks Ingot towards the courtyard,
passing the two large stones. Beatrice’s gaze turns to Weydlyn, and he averts
his eyes and lowering his head a bit, then looking to Muntin.
Muntin noting Sir Weydlyn’s approach, commands him to halt and name himself.
“I am Sir Weydlyn, knight of the Realm. The verdict of Ambrageft is capricious.
Surely you Muntin, can see that,” says Weydlyn as he draws Ingot to a halt.
“It is not for me to see nor say, as I am now bound in service as Sergeant of
the Law,” replies Muntin as he grips his polehook and looks up to mounted
Weydlyn.
“Those Laws of your Mistress are false.”
“Knight,” growls Muntin, “do you challenge these laws?”
Weydlyn glancing to Beatrice then back to Muntin responds, “I know not all of
your laws but I do challenge the judgment against Sir Beatrice.”
“Sir Beatrice is no more,” hisses Muntin coiling tighter, readying to spring or
strike.
“Then I challenge you to Trial by Combat, to prove the verdict unjust and vacate
the sentence,” howls Weydlyn.
I wonder, does Muntin have the authority to receive such a challenge? Probably
not. I Ask the Stars and get a “Yes but…”
Muntin chuckles, “Oh Sir Weydlyn, I alone have not the authority to vacate
Ambrageft’s judgment.”
“Foul devil,” replies Weydlyn, “then if not you alone, whom else?”
I’m torn, will Muntin share the levers that might move the gears of Justice?
How Kafka-esque is this Judge’s court? There’s already the absurd failure to
sharpen an mace. So I’m thinking absurd. I again Ask the Stars, will Muntin
share the lever in which he moves? The answer seems unlikely, and the stars
agree.
Muntin begins to speak, and his mouth quickly clamps shut, nearly biting through
his tongue. He looks at Weydlyn, as though now a dog caught doing something
that warrants a scolding, eyes begging for mercy and forgiveness.
“Speak,” commands Weydlyn. Muntin’s face shifts, shedding guilt, and instead
looking up at Weydlyn with bitter eyes.li
“Very well, I challenge those with whom you together have authority to vacate
Ambrageft’s judgment,” says Weydlyn.
Muntin nods, and responds, “So be it.”
I Ask the Stars is it the three Sergeants of Law that together must be
challenged? The answer seems likely. And the stars agree.
Reaching into his checkerboard longcoat, he pulls forth a small trumpet, and
drawing to his mouth, blows a short blast, “I summon Lyo and Tonnel, my fellow
Sergeants of Law.”
All the while, Beatrice watches the exchange, her eyes lighting for a moment as
hope swells that she might find herself restored. With hope rising, she casts
her gaze to Sir Weydlyn, his fear forgotten and the quickening fires of passion
drawing him to a challenge unknown.
Do the two Sergeant’s manifest almost immediately? I Ask the Stars with the
answer likely. The stars reply: Yes but…
Mist gathers and swirls near Muntin. Both Beatrice and Weydlyn back their
horses away. The swirling mist expands and dissipates, leaving two similarly
clad men standing.
Each shakes his head, then looks to Muntin, who speaks, “I must confer with my
fellow Sergeants of Law, but know this, tomorrow at day break, we shall receive
your challenge and join in Trial by Combat. For now, you have leave to rest.
Know that nothing shall disturb this day nor night. Amidst the stones, you’ll
find a small cottage where you might rest and prepare for the trial.”
Respite before the Trial
Is there access to Sustenance before the trial? I Ask the Stars with the answer
being unlikely. The Stars respond: Yes but…to eat the food is to accept future
Judgment. Now does Sir Weydlyn recognize this? Or does Beatrice know this?
Let’s make a Clarity check, and use the better of the two: Beatrice by many
times over. She does not recognize this fact.
Sir Weydlyn eats the meal provided, restoring his Vigor. Weydlyn’s stubborn and
refuses to apologize for doubting Beatrice’s story. Beatrice thanks him for
fighting to restore her knighthood. Weydlyn deflects, claiming he is doing this
to Seek the Myths and Protect the Realm; which restoring a Knight will certainly
help on both accounts.
Weydlyn makes a solemn Promise to Beatrice, that he shall restore her
knighthood.
The Trial
Is this a Trial to the Death? Yes but…well we’ll let that one hang for a bit.
And the combat must remain within the chess board.
The humid morning air, hangs upon the four combatants. Even before the trial,
sweat beads on their brow. The day beginning unseasonably hot for early spring.
As though the furnace forge had drawn close to bear witness to this day.
Weydlyn, white beneath, begins on the white queen’s square. Muntin on the other
side, stand not on the first row, but the second. Muntin, center on white,
Tonnel and Lyo each flanking on black. As though pawns standing guard of some
yet to arrive queen.
Amongst the seats in the stones, Beatrice watches. Hope giving way to nerves.
She knows the prowess granted by the sacred sworn oaths, and prays to the stars
now vanished that Sir Weydlyn’s oath carries him through.
Lyo, Tonnel, and Muntin have the same stats: Vigor 12, Clarity 14, Spirit 14,
Guard 6, Armor 1, polehook (d10 long)
They stand close, forming a shield-wall.
Sir Weydlyn winces as a horn blasts and echoes throughout stone and courtyard.
Lyo says, “We have begun.” Patient, the sargeants wait, polehooks lowered ready
to hold off the legendary assault of Knight of the Realm.
Sir Weydlyn looks to Beatrice, smiles, reaches to his belt and hurls his dagger
at Muntin.
I invoke a Smite to add a d12 to the roll, getting a 10 and 5. There’s a few
options: do 6 damage and inflict a scare or 10 damage and perform a Gambit;
which grants a Save. Reviewing the scars, these aren’t likely to sway the
combat. So Gambit it is. I choose to attempt to Stop Muntin from moving. But
he Saves, so may move. Since wounded, I also check if he routs, but does not.
Weydlyn passes his Vigor save and is not fatigued.
MuntinVigor 9, Guard 0.
The Sergeants bark, “Come face justice.” And begin a slow advance; not wishing
to surrender the advantages of their shield wall.
Sir Weydlyn surveying the board, sees nothing more to throw. He grins and hurls
his bolt-guisarme at Lyo, who’s face registers this unconventional action.
Again Weydlyn Smites and rolls a 1 and a 12. The polearm dives deep into Lyo’s
shoulder, he crumples reduced to Vigor 7. His morale holds. I roll Weydlyn’s
Vigor save and get a 20. A failure. Weydlyn is now Fatigued. I really had
hoped for a Gambit or to make the save. Things are going to get dire.
With Weydlyn presently unarmed, the three charge.
For them, I roll a 10, 9, 7. It makes sense to inflict 8 damage and Stop
Weydlyn from moving. This reduces his Guard from 6 to 0, and his armor soaks
the remaining points. He is also Stopped.
Weydlyn tries to lunges at Lyo, with his heavy mail gauntlet. I roll a 4.
Lyo’s Vigor drops to 4 (with that armor 1 preventing the mortal wound).
The three Seargants roll 5,4,2 on their counter attack. Sir Weydlyn’s Vigor
drops from 16 to 12. And he presses back, his gauntlet burning with the forge
fires. I roll a 5 and 3. He punches Lyo, dropping inflicting a Mortal Wound
and dropping him.
Muntin and Tonnel, return a strike: 6 and 3. Weylynd drops from 12 to 8 Vigor.
Circumstances are beyond dire.
The gauntlet, hot with Weydlyn’s rage pounds into Muntin. Inflicting, I roll an
8,6,2. Dropping Muntin’s Vigor from 9 to 4. He falls, face smashed and
bleeding.
Tonnel’s resolve breaks (failing his Spirit save by 1). And backs off. With
fury, Weydlyn charges up within Tonnel’s reach. Punching with a now blazing
gauntlet. I roll 7,4,1,1. And opt for 7 damage and attempt to press the
impairment; which fails. Reducing Tonnel’s guard to 0 and inflicting a Scar;
smatching Tonnel’s mouth. He loses 6 Vigor, dropping from 14 to 8.
Tonnel steps back, and pokes at Weydlyn. There’s a 50/50 chance this is all
over. I roll a 5. Weydlyn’s armor soaks 2, leaving his Vigor at 5. Weydlyn
dives in with his gauntlet singing a song of the forge. I roll 7,8,5,2.
Weydlyn’s fist catches Tonnel square in the skull, bone and blood splatter.
Exhausted, bloody, and battered, Weydlyn limps to retrieve his bolt-quisarme. A
glowing violet nimbus surrounds Beatrice as she rushes to help Weydlyn.
“Sir Weydlyn, you have fought with a fury unmatched. And restored me to
knighthood. For that, I thank you.”
“Yes, yes,” replies Weydyln between wincing breaths.
Reflections
Well that was a brutal and close fight. But let’s move back a bit.
I’m working through Sir Weylynd’s fears. Playing his low Spirit and Clarity
with a bit of cowardice, low emotional intelligence, and manipulation. And
Beatrice rising to face her judgment.
I let the oracles guide me, moving through the in play discovery of Weydlyn’s
brashness, the arbitrary nature of the Judge, and how a Trial by Combat might
reverse the sentence.
And before I started the Trial by Combat, I reviewed the combat section. And
saw that the spearwall was a strong defense against a the charge of a Knight.
Knowing that in older style games, breaking morale is often the stronger
strategy.
Which is why I had Weydlyn risk much by hurling his two weapons. It was a risk.
And the dice were fickle; lots of damage, no Gambit, and becoming Fatigued. Had
Weylynd been able to perform a Gambit, my plan was for him to quickly move and
retrieve his spear. And had he not become Fatigued, well he could’ve weathered
more of the storm.
But all of those early inflicted wounds set the stage for a pitched battle that
Weydlynd narrowly survived, due very much to the power of Tempering Strike:
“when you cause a Wound with a melee weapon, that weapon receives +d8 until the
end of combat. This effect can stack.”
I made the call that wearing scale armor meant heavy gauntlets, which I consider
a melee weapon.
I keep thinking that the Combat moves quickly with ample points for decisions
and risk taking. And the fictional state changes quickly.
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