The Maiden Saga: Role Playing Game (17 page)

Tanalorn has lost 4 Game Points in his struggle with the lock. He chooses to split these between his Dexterity, reducing it by 1 to 5 and his Craft, reducing it by 3 to 4. He also gains 1 Glory Point.

 

The door opens. Tanalorn is within the Maiden's chamber. A quick adjustment of his hair and he is ready.

Strong, pale moonlight floods in through the window, illuminating the bed. Soft tresses lie in waves across the pillow, so pale they might almost be white. In point of fact, they are white, while the face of the sleeping woman, while handsome in a somewhat austere fashion, suggests not only an age of some sixty years but a personality of unyielding rectitude.

Tanalorn freezes in place. Since earliest childhood it has been his understand that the tallest tower of a Mund keep houses the eldest virgin daughter of the house. Is this woman some maiden aunt? The girl's mother? Has he ascended the wrong tower? Is the place not a keep at all but some bizarre institute for the sustenance of ferocious viragos?

His final conjecture is an approximation of the truth, and once again he considers withdrawal, only to abandon the idea. Not only does the view from the window show another tower, no less tall, beyond the far end of what he thought to be a hall, but on the bedside table is a bunch of keys.

 

Note that he was not obliged to make a search roll as he was not up against an obstacle. The presence of the keys was simply an act of generosity on the part of the GM, or not, as the case may be...

 

Retreating from the chamber with vast caution, Tanalorn makes his way down the stairs, keys in hand. Two stories down he comes to another door, its position suggesting that it gives access to the attic of the long building, no doubt some chilly garret used to house servitors, and the yet the lock is no crude piece of Mundic ironmongery, but Dwarven. He stops, pondering the use of such an expensive item. Evidently there is something of value beyond the door.

A hasty investigation of his keys reveals that three are of Dwarven manufacture. The second fits the lock. Within, a long, low space is illuminated by the moons where they shine down through a double row of tall windows to create a confusion of shadows. Tanalorn pauses as his eyes struggle to make sense of what he sees and then grow gradually wider as he takes in what is evidently a dormitory, such as might be used for troops in a Hai barracks. To either side of the room is a row of beds, some thirty in all, and before he can retreat a pale figure sits up, startlingly abrupt.

For one awful moment Tanalorn imagines he is about to have to face thirty Mundic warriors armed with only a small club and a pair of hatpins, a task which might daunt even such legendary heroes as the mighty Kroth. Yet their is nothing remotely masculine about the person now staring at him in astonished silence. Pale hair frames a delicate, oval face, while the bedsheet clutched in rounded, white arms hints at contours as generous as they are intriguing.

Other girls sit up, but none of them scream. Tanalorn, collecting himself, performs an elegant bow to one side and then the other, each carefully judged to allow a full appreciation of his profile in addition to certain other aspects of his form. None of the girls gasp or faint, somewhat to his chagrin, but the one who sat up first speaks, employing a whisper thick with need and passion.

‘Are you come to bring us free?'

Tanalorn has no idea what she is talking about, but there is no mistaking her tone of voice. There are now over a dozen girls looking at him in what seems to be reverent expectation, while some have not bothered to pull up their sheets. He performs another bow, more gallant than the first and somewhat stiffer, but for all his ardour it is plain to him that escape must come first. Besides, the girls are plainly not only willing to leave but eager, as they explain to him in hushed whispers.

 

The situation has now changed. Tanalorn might have left alone, with a girl as a captive or as an accomplice, but as it is he has thirty girls, each an NPC with an agenda of her own. The GM can play each girl separately, but it is probably sensible to consider all or most of them as a group. Allowing for four unoccupied beds, there are twenty-six girls. Most will be the daughters of Thanes, Squires or Reeves, the three lowest highborn ranks, but among them is the Demoiselle Yrainne, who is not only the daughter of a Baron but slightly older. The others will follow her lead, but while none are unconscious of Tanalorn's physique, for the time being he is merely a means to an end - escape.

 

Statistics -

 

In any conflict five will operate together per opponent, or four with Tanalorn. Note that while not one of them carries so much as a weight of copper their Game Points in Wealth still stand as a reflection of their people and rank.

 

Tanalorn had expected to have to ravish the girl before she became compliant, the way it is done in every tale of wild, romantic Mund that he has ever read. Having completed his conquest, he intended to leave the keep, if necessary with her slung over his shoulder. With thirty girls this is evidently impractical, while he finds it hard to grasp what is going on, and in particular why the girls should have been sent to the celibentuary in disgrace for what in Hai would be perfectly normally behaviour. Nevertheless, if he manages to bring them all back his success is assured. The minstrels of Zihai will be in raptures, as if there is one thing they enjoy more than a heroic deed it is a heroic deed with a flavour of the absurd. Once the minstrels are on his side the people will be on his side, in which case it can only be a matter of time before the king declares him a hero.

With the keys in hand and the girls' knowledge of the interior of the keep, the escape goes smoothly, reaching the gate without incident.

 

The massive winch mechanism represents their first obstacle. In theory, they are entitled to 27 search throws while they look for the lever, but in practise they only need to keep going until they find it, unless they attract attention. Tanalorn, as the only PC, takes first throw – 6,4,3,2,2,1. The GM then throws for Yrainne – 6,6,5,3,31. She has found an axe, which she is not about to give up, but not the winch handle. The GM has twenty-five throws left – 6,6,6,5,4,3. The first of the girls has found the winch handle. No further searching is necessary. They attempt to operate the mechanism.

Tanalorn, as the PC has the choice of how to go about this. He has 6 Game Points left in Power and 4 in Craft. He chooses to use Power.

 

We now calculate Escape Points for the group -

As they are inside the keep the door has a resistance of 10, reduced to 5 by possession of the winch handle. Alone, Tanalorn has an advantage of 15 to 5, but with Yrainne's assistance that becomes 30 ((15+22)x0.8) to 5, with one girl as well 39 ((15+22+18)x0.7), with two additional girls 44 ((15+22+18+18)x0.6), or with the maximum permitted five people 46 ((15+22+18+18+18)x0.5). (Note that if they were allowed one more girl under the same system the total would be 45 ((15+22+18+18+18+18)x0.4), meaning that she only managed to get in the way.

 

Tanalorn is growing rapidly exhausted, but it is not every day that he gets a chance to show off his muscles to twenty-six beautiful girls. He applies himself to the winch handle and hauls, making his muscles writhe like giant snakes beneath his sweat slick skin. Yrainne watches with an expression of patient forbearance.

 

The GM throws first for the winch – 6,4,3,3,1,1. Tanalorn – 6,6,5,3,2,1. The winch – 6,5,5,3,3,3. Tanalorn – 6,4,4,3,2,1, and so on until with an expenditure of 4 Escape Points the task is done. Tanalorn chooses to divide these lost points evenly between his Dexterity, reducing it 3, and his Power, reducing it to 4. He has gained 1 Glory Point.

 

The gates of the keep stand open. All twenty-six girls pour out, with Tanalorn struggling to keep up, so he makes a show of guarding their rear (no puns please) until all are safely across the causeway. Soon they have reached his boat, but there is an obvious problem. Yrainne throws a nervous glance back towards the dark shape of Kavas-Arion before she speaks.

‘Your boat will take four, maybe five, otherwise we will surely drown. We must draw lots.'

 

The GM has decided to make life difficult for Tanalorn, who now needs to argue his case for a place in his own boat. As a PC the choice of Additional Attribute is his. Power would be foolish as not only has he almost exhausted his game Points but Yrainne has an axe. Allure has to be a better choice, as he has 18 Game Points to her 15 and will be able to build sixes in his Primary Drive.

Unfortunately for him, all the other girls agree with Yrainne, which means that he finds himself arguing with five at the same time and against 36 ((15+14+14+14+14)x0.5) points. The conflict proceeds under normal game rules, and despite putting up a brave resistance, Tanalorn eventually loses. He could choose to expend 1 Glory Point and continue, but whatever he chooses he will be up against five of the girls and is unlikely to win, or, in game terms –

 

Tanalorn bows deeply to Yrainne.

‘You have convinced me, my Lady. Take my boat, and make for Zihai. At the docks, state that you are under my protection and ask for the house of Ansignor, who was for thirty years Beastmaster at the arena. This is my father, and he will see to all your wants until my return.'

Yrainne bows in return and begins to pick grass stems for the drawing of lots. Tanalorn considers the girls. Twenty-one will remain with him, possibly including Yrainne herself. A rest somewhere deep in the woods and he will be refreshed. After that, who knows? It might be possible to procure the necessary boats from some fishing village, or he could steal a galley, which would be a bold stroke indeed. Meanwhile, the girls are clearly grateful for their release, and while twenty-one is, perhaps, rather more than he can immediately accommodate, he is willing to make the attempt.

 

 

Cirien surveys the Silk Market in Oretes with mingled awe and contempt. The people are so small; little scurrying creatures forever talking, gossiping, plotting, making large of problems much better solved with a few honest words, or for that matter, an axe. Yet their city is a dozen times the size of Aegerion, with buildings to dwarf the greatest keep, while the idea of a market solely devoted to one rare cloth strikes her as at once extravagant and decadent, speaking of wealth beyond anything she could have imagined before she came. Yet there is no denying the beauty of the silks, bolt upon bolt, in colours she had not known existed, and most curious of all, deep, pure black. She is entranced.

She is also carrying a considerable amount of gold. When the Oreaten captains came to Aegmund seeking female warriors to form a personal guard for their new queen she had thought of honour and adventure; perhaps standing with her companions between her liege and a dozen Vendjomois swordsmen on some stricken battlefield. The truth is rather different. For one thing, the Imperial Queen Palades Sulden does not lead her armies into battle, but is a sharp-tongued little brat who would clearly benefit from a taste of the whip. Cirien's task is to stand beside the thrown, looking menacing and dressed in badly cured furs of a crude cut that no Aeg has worn in a hundred years. Yet Imperial guard is without doubt a suitable job for a Reeveling, while her axe is good if a trifle light, all her needs taken care of and the pay excellent. Twenty weights of gold chink together in her pouch, surely enough to purchase a quantity of the beautiful black silk and the services of a seamstress?