by Kevin Hassall
A story inspired by an old folk tale.
It is Christmas - a time of feasting and merriment in the midst of bleak winter. The local lord (earl, baron, etc.) invites to his castle all of his main allies and a few of his other important neighbours - a handful of knights, a local Prior, and, this year, one of those strange scholars from near-by.
And so the apparent leader of the magi (whoever normally receives and deals with mundane visitors) receives an invitation to the lord's castle for the last five evenings of the twelve days of Christmas. The messenger who brings the message (who will also, incidentally, be reporting back to his lord on the state of the scholar's home, apparent defences, etc.) makes it clear that the earl will have a room for the "scholar" and some mattresses in the storerooms or stable for any servants who may accompany him/her. The messenger will display surprise - indeed incredulity - if the scholar wants to bring a retinue of soldiers (it's a series of feasts, not a campaign of battles, and why does a scholar need soldiers anyway?). All of the players should be able to play a companion or non-combat grog (if you don't have any, now's a time to roll some up - you know, the stable lad, a guide/scout, etc.), or even a grog who has left his weapons behind (or carries them hidden) or even another mage.
When the characters arrive at the castle, they are formally received by the lord, who asks a after their journey and has servants deal with their horses and baggage and find them places to sleep. The audience over, they should have a few hours to check out the castle, consider escape routs and do other pointless player-characterish things. Or maybe there are some old friends or adversaries here to meet up with (SG's discretion).
Some hours after dark, they are invited to be seated - the "scholar" (mage) and any noble retainers with him/her at the lowest (least important) end of the Lord's own high table (raised on a dais overlooking the hall), while other characters are found seats suitable to their rank (a Magister or nobleman on the next most important table, with the lord's chaplain and some of his knights; a stable-hand on the lowliest table with other guests' servants; etc.). When his guests are seated, the lord enters in a torchlight procession and takes his place at the centre of the high table.
The food is excellent, served in several "removes" or instalments, with the rare and highly spiced foods - including a whole roast swan, decorated with its feathers etc., as the centrepiece - served to the high table, while the lowest folk must make do with coarse brown bread, bacon, mutton and beans. (Assume that subsequent evenings' banquets follow this pattern, too, 'though with different food - a peacock one evening, a goose another, etc.) Between each "remove" (course), while there are fewer servants moving around the hall, the lord's minstrel plays and a group of wandering jongleurs tumble and juggle.
The important events which now unfold are:
1) An hour into this first feast, a servant approaches the high table (the "scholar" is close enough to overhear) and tells his lord that a traveller has sought shelter at the castle. Who is he? the lord asks. The servant didn't catch the name, but speaks of the stranger's deeply dyed tunic and gold bangle. The lord assumes the man to be a knight or wealthy merchant, and orders that he is found a seat on one of the better tables - virtually next to one of the grogs or companions, as it happens (but make sure that he's isn't within easy range of a mage). The stranger chats amiably, talking of the weather, asking about his fellows, etc., and occasionally filling in gaps in the conversation with "you know, what you've just said reminds me of a story I once heard..." and proceeding to tell a story. He starts with a version of Ashputtle (Cinderella), and as people get drunker and coarser he tells the comic story of the bird, the sausage and the mouse who set up home together, and ends with an almost pornographic poem about a young man spying on two lovers. His Communication is about +4, and his Storytelling +5 - his Legend Lore being even higher, as it happens, and lets just gloss over his Faerie Lore. As the meal ends he stand and calls out to his host, the Lord. He thanks the lord for his hospitality and says that wishes to repay him for the favour. The lord consents, and the stranger calls for the minstrel's lute. Accompanied by the lute he begins to sing a song in an unknown language, which successfully reduces the rowdy, drunken, happy revellers into a mass of sombre, maudlin mourners, many of them sobbing into their wine glasses. At the end of the song, he bows, carries the lute back to the minstrel's seat, and turns towards the door. The lord is obviously considering calling after him, but, the spell now broken and no-one feeling much like partying, most of the guests rise to leave at this point, heading for the exit and obscuring the lord's (and characters') view of the stranger. Any attempt by any player character to follow the man will fail - but the minstrel (who was right behind him as he left) does manage it.
2) When the "stranger" returns to his fellows in the faerie mound, he tells them of the evening - and he remarks on the wonderful effect of his armband, which allowed him to so bewitch the court. After this, the faeries retire to bed for the night and the minstrel - who had snuck in and overheard the conversation - steals the golden bangle from the sleeping faerie's arm. He then returns to the castle.
3) The next day, the lord's steward approaches the scholar. He asks whether the accommodation is adequate, if the scholar needs anything, etc., and he asks what diversions the scholar might enjoy. The chaplain will soon say mass, there will be dancing in the hall, a chess set is available, and the lord and some of his retainers will be riding out on a stag hunt (the scholar and any noble retainers would be welcome, if they can ride well).
4) That night, the stranger arrives again, just as the banquet begins. The lord welcomes him formally, clearly delighted to see him, and makes some remark about his skills so outshining those of anyone present. His minstrel, purple with rage, rises and declares that anything that the stranger can do, he, too, is capable of: and he takes his lute, and begins to play the Song of Sadness. characters with a good Awareness + Perception roll notice a golden bangle half-hidden beneath one of his sleeves. Soon everyone is in tears. When the song ends, the stranger rises and complements the minstrel politely, but announces that there are better ways to begin a feast. He takes the minstrel's lute and begins to play again. Awareness + Perception rolls may note that although the stranger is dressed as before he wears a different gold bangle this time. Soon people are clapping, dancing on the tables and laughing, with tears of joy pouring down their faces. As soon as he has finished his song, the stranger puts the lute down and turns to go. It should be very difficult for a character to follow him - given that the hall is clogged with dancing guests.
5) About an hour later the minstrel has vanished. This is blatantly obvious, as, when the lord calls for music, there is no-one there. If any of the characters can come to the rescue and provide entertainment, a generous gift (e.g. silver belt buckle or fine musical instrument) will be given to him/her at the end of the feast by the grateful lord. The minstrel, of course, has gone straight to the mound, and tonight he steals the second bangle.
6) The next morning the steward comes to the scholar again. He has already established the scholar's leisure interests, and has an invitation from the lord (e.g. an invitation to play a game of chess, or to go hunting, as appropriate). The lord wants an opportunity to talk to the scholar - first about the stranger (who is he? weren't his songs... strange?), secondly about the scholar's own "home" (if the covenant has soldiers and fortifications, he will want to know what a scholar wants with a fighting force, and will want to make sure that they aren't a threat to him).
7) That night, at the feast, the lord calls on the minstrel to play and he rises with a smug grin and begins to play the Song of Joy. Now he is wearing two bangles. Soon there is dancing on the tables again, and everyone is well set up for a night of merriment. And as the last notes of the song end, the stranger enters the hall to a warm welcome. He takes a seat - near one or more of the characters - and gets on with enjoying the feast, showing no animosity or anger or, indeed, any interest in the minstrel. Questions about who he is and where he comes from he simply deflects or avoids - which is easy enough, given that everyone around him has been put in a light-hearted and loud sort of a mood by the minstrel's song - although he might indicate a general direction (e.g. "west") and environment (e.g. "woods") which will be useful for the players as clues. At the end of the feast, he rises, and says that he has one last song which he would like to play, and he dedicates it to the lord's own minstrel. The first few notes of the magical Lullaby will ring in the guests' ears but then the next thing that anyone knows a cock is crowing and the sleepy guests are raising their heads from the tables. Everyone has slept wonderfully through the night. The stranger, the minstrel, and any character who had stolen either bangle from the minstrel, are gone. The lord is disturbed. There is talk of witchcraft, faeries and demons. No one knows what to do. The lord, naturally enough, turns to the "scholar" who is his guest. Will the characters agree to sort the situation out and recover the minstrel? The lord will be very grateful.
8) Finding the faerie mound shouldn't be difficult. A few people (guards etc.) saw both the faerie and minstrel travelling to/from a certain direction on the first two nights, so can indicate a direction. And talking to local peasants elicits local legends of a dragon who was slain in such-a-lake years ago and the faerie-hill, both in that direction. Dragon Lake or Faerie Hill? Not a hard choice.
9) The players find doors in the side of the mound, and are admitted if they can come up with a decent reason, or offer something - assuming that they leave all iron outside. Have the doors develop a face and talk, or something. Inside the stranger (the lord of the mound) and his family have taken the minstrel and anyone else with the bangles hostage - and have taken the stolen bangles back. They intend to hang on to the miscreant(s) until they can think of a suitable punishment, which could take decades. To get the hostage(s) back, the characters must either offer something substantial in exchange, think up a "suitable" punishment, or do some fancy talking. Have fun role-playing it out.
10) Back at the castle, hopefully with the minstrel in tow, the lord wants to know what had happened. He wants an explanation. And if he discovers that his minstrel stole from one of his guests, then he is inclined to punish the man himself - but, given the strange circumstances, he will rely on the "scholar's" advice, so that the player characters effectively get to determine the minstrel's fate. If the characters handle this well, the lord will publicly thank them and ask them if there is anything that he can do for them in return: this is in public, note, so the characters can't ask for anything compromising but, on the other hand, the lord can't refuse apparently innocuous demands without losing face in front of his other guests (his main allies and vassals!)
Note, in running this story, the SG has two options:
A) Make sure that the lord has something that the player's covenant wants - e.g. the ability to grant them legal mundane ownership of a vis site, or just influence with a local bishop (maybe that troublesome bishop is the lord's brother), anything so long as they can't just steal it (e.g. money is right out). This will give more mercenary players some motivation - giving them a reason to do a favour for the lord.
B) Ensure that the players want nothing from the lord. Without selfish motivations they will be much better placed to deal with the situation "fairly" - empathising with the protagonists, arguing amongst themselves about what is a just punishment for the minstrel, etc. This works best for players who enjoy arguing over abstract issues, but much less well for powermongers.