Friday, 24 January 2025

A Knight in with Pendragon...

I’m a big fan of genre roleplaying, but I’m not so keen on rules. Let me qualify: I think you do need rules to play a roleplaying game, but I don’t think that each new game which rolls off the production line needs its own rule set. Every time a new game comes out, it has a set of rules of its own and mostly, these are iterations of established older rule sets or are simple variations of a minimalist view of how games are run. The reason that new games have their own ‘new’ rules is that they seem to think they need this to justify copyright regulations – a world or thematic premise is apparently not enough. Drill down hard enough and you’ll find the ‘ur-rules’ that dictate how every game is played, and you’ll find that it looks a lot like the ‘let’s pretend’ games that we all played as children – those are pretty hard to copyright.

I play “Call of Cthulhu” because it uses BRP (or variations thereof) to conduct business. I’ve travelled across the Storyteller system of White Wolf and the Palladium mess; I’ve scrabbled around for extra dice for “Shadowrun”; I’ve checked difficulty levels for “Cyberpunk” and “Feng Shui”: they are all clunky and weird and I find myself coming back to three simple systems:

“AD&D”. BRP. “Pendragon”.

The first two of these are extreme white bread systems: they sit so far in the background as to be mostly innocuous, either because they’re so light or they’re so familiar. They are largely intuitive and simple and built such that, if something occurs that isn’t listed, it’s fairly clear how to use the system to construct something that will do as a workaround or a house rule. “CoC” does this: it’s a genre workaround bolted onto the BRP rules. With “AD&D”, there might be a stack of rule books involved if you need them, but they’re mainly filled with colour material – you only really need about 10 of the pages, tops. “Pendragon” is a different beast.

The only time I use another rule system is when that system is specifically designed to support the genre which it uses. “Pendragon” is a beautiful Swiss-watch of game design wherein every rule that exists, specifically reinforces the concepts and ideals of the game’s setting. This is a game of knights and damsels in the Age of King Arthur; everything that happens in the game concerns and is about the people who live under Arthur’s rule and how they live their lives. The goal is to become a well-known champion of the Court of Camelot: you pursue the Grail; you rescue damsels; you resolve issues of law and morality on behalf of the King; you try to avoid giants (because, in this game, giants are really bad news!). Combat duties and resolution are equally shared by the referee and the players – the decisions that the players make for their characters dramatically impact the results, and there is little room for error. A bad call can get you slain. Oftentimes, gamers decry systems and games because they feel that too much power lies in the hand of the ref.; there’s no such issue here. Character design is involved and intensive: the amount of time required for this is often cited as a game flaw, in a setting where death is only a bad die-roll away. But this is part of the genre as well. Who remembers a character that took ten minutes to compile and half-an-hour to kill off? “Pendragon” characters – lovingly hand crafted and agonised over in play - go down in history.

(Long time readers will remember that I also play “Legend of the Five Rings” and are wondering where that game fits in all of this. Easy: I take the “L5R” world and use it as a skin over the “Pendragon” game system: it works beautifully.)

Consequently, I read a lot of Arthurian material. I’m also a stickler for canon so I like my gaming material to slot nicely between the tentpoles of the genre lore. I’m prepping some stuff to play in the next few months and so I’ve been running through the canon once again: Sir Thomas Malory; T.H. White; Mary Stewart; Chrétien de Troyes; Rudolf Steiner; Wolfram von Eschenbach; the Mabinogion; the Chansons de Geste (you’ll notice I steer well clear of Richard Wagner and Marion Zimmer Bradley, for obvious reasons). “Pendragon” is a game where a shared reality is at play between the referee and the players: everyone needs to have a grip on the genre – and a fairly comprehensive one – in order for a bunch of stuff to make sense. If “Pendragon” has a real flaw, it’s this: that the genre is never really discussed; it’s assumed knowledge, and most modern world players have very little real understanding – at best just a surface gloss – of how this stuff works.

First is the language. Malory turned the whole shebang into Norman French inflected early English and it’s tricky to get your head around. For instance, the French-derived word ‘chirurgeon’ is often the first hurdle that players bumble into. It’s pronounced ‘surgeon’ and to act as a ‘chirurgeon’ is to perform ‘chirurgery’, or ‘surgery’. Once you know how to pronounce it, the mystery falls away, but trying to read passages of this stuff can be a headache until you get used to it. Take this as an example:

“Than within a lytyll whyle they come to sir Marhaus place [which] was in a lytyll pryory, and there they alyght, and ladyes and damesels unarmed them and hastely loked to their hurtes, for they were all three hurte. And so they had good lodgyng with sir Marhaus and good chere, for wan he wyste that they were kynge Arthurs syster-sonnes he made them all the chere that lay in his power. And so they sojourned there a sevennyght and were well eased of their woundis, and at the laste departed.”

You need to give it a few goes before it starts to sound reasonable. Try this one (taken from an easier 1917 translation):

“…Sir Launcelot rode forth with King Bagdemagus unto his castle, and there he had passing good cheer both with the king and his daughter, and they proffered him great gifts. And on the morn he took his leave…

This is a pretty vanilla example, but it opens up a can of worms for the uninitiated newcomer to the “Pendragon” world. What exactly is “good cheer”? And what is the expectation when arriving at the home of an NPC in this milieu?

*****

The big issue here is the custom of Hospitality. It boils down to the idea that being able to treat strangers well reflects well on those so doing; in return, making a great display of enjoying the treatment one receives shows that the treatment is appreciated and is worthy of one’s time and energy. It’s a two-sided exchange, although from a modern perspective, it might not be immediately obvious. Here’s a run-down of what might happen when a wandering knight approaches a moderately sized manor for the evening:

Firstly, the knight rides into the estate. This might be a small gate in a fence or wall; it might be a courtyard or an open area enclosed by the wings of the building where most deliveries and arrivals happen. If the entrance is barred, he may have to knock and declare himself – this is often the case if the place is besieged in some way. While on the road outside, he might pass members of the local peasantry who will note his passing and spread word that there is a Knight in the vicinity.

Next the knight’s horse is taken in care: this will be the duty of a groom or stable-boy; in some cases, it might be a squire or a smith, depending upon the status of the dwelling. This person will help the knight to dismount and will take the horse away to be fed and watered (along with any other maintenance that it or its equipment might require). Think of it as ‘valet parking’.

The seneschal of the estate or a head functionary of the household - possibly a noble of junior status, a child of the manor’s lord perhaps, or their wife - will then greet the knight and welcome them to stay. While this is happening, other members of staff or the household will scope out the heraldic devices or badges that the knight is displaying and relay this information to whomsoever is in charge of the armorial scrolls, usually a herald, if the place is sufficiently important. If the knight is not recorded (or there are no such records in the establishment), the seneschal or herald will ask the knight their name and reason for arriving.

If all this is above board and no ill-intent is detected from either party, then the knight is taken inside and “unarmed”. Simply put, this means that his armour and weapons are removed, he is given the option of bathing and medical services are provided, if needed. He is then given new clothes, while his own gear is taken away to be cleaned and repaired. This includes mending any tears and rents, patching holes and polishing plates, sharpening swords and re-weaving torn mail. At this point, the knight might be invited to attend prayers and be “shriven”, or blessed after confession, by a local holy person attached to the place.

Finally, the knight is brought to the main dining hall of the residence and introduced to the lord and/or lady in charge. They will be shown to a position of eminence – usually a spot at the “high table” – and greeted warmly by all present. Music will begin and food will be served.

During the feast, the knight will be asked to speak of what they’ve seen in recent times and will hear, in return, of any marvels that have taken place locally. Issues of law and any problems that should concern an Agent of the Crown - such as the presence of bandits, say, or a border dispute – will be presented, and the knight will be expected to talk about ways to resolve these, especially if it lies within his power to do so.

Entertainments will be provided and the knight will be expected to involve himself in these or to respond with performances of his own. This includes dancing and singing, telling stories (especially his own ongoing narrative), displaying feats of prowess or skill, and encouraging debate. All the while he should be flirting with the local damosels and listening to the local gossip.

At all times, the knight should be feeling the ‘vibe’ of the gathering and helping to promote an easy, fun-filled event. He should be mindful of discord and should be quick to smooth over any undiplomatic shows or instances of unpleasantness. His goal is to “be of good cheer” and facilitate the good times which these people are trying to provide.

Occasionally, the lord of the manor will provide gifts to the knight especially if they’ve been particularly delightful as dining companions. Gifts are never expected – after all, the knight’s equipage is being given a lengthy and expensive overhaul while he is in residence – but their receipt either in front everyone else at the revels or as the knight departs the next day, should be in a spirit of graciousness and humility (and, technically, such gifts are for the King, not the knight himself).

The provision of Hospitality, therefore, can be seen as a two-way street. It must be offered and given in good faith and received with grace and a spirit of duty. It’s a mark of respect for the King’s representative and that representative must always be aware of their role as a symbol of Regal authority.

*****

At its most basic, I see this process as a kind of Roomba recharge. The Knight is an appliance wandering across the land and working for the King; periodically, they need to be recharged and mended or given some form of maintenance. Then they are set loose to go about their business once more. When the process works, it’s mostly unremarkable; when it breaks down, then there are problems.

If there is a malaise over the region – famine or oppression from neighbouring bullies or a monster – this will be instantly spotted by the knight. Perhaps the entertainment is lacklustre, or the food is less than copious, or fresh, then the knight may tune in to the fact that there’s something wrong. This naturally prompts them to ask – diplomatically – if there’s anything that they can do to help. Of course, if the place is poor and the food being served is all that there is, the knight will find ways to minimise any embarrassment that their presence might cause, as a drain on available resources. If the lord or ruler of the manor is a Bad Hat, then the poor reception might simply be an extension of their evil nature – servants and minions always take a lead from their masters. This will be the way that the knight discovers that there is something rotten in the state of Denmark…

Of course, bad behaviour might come from the knight as well. They might pursue the local women too lustfully, or recklessly try to drain the cellar of its wine stores. They might poke fun at attendees of the feast or pour scorn upon the food being offered. They might also, like some bad penny distant relative, show up unannounced and overstay their welcome. This indulgent behaviour can seriously drain the capabilities of any small community, especially if the knight does nothing to justify or aid the work being undertaken to maintain him. Remember that the power and capability of a king is often measured by the number of knights he can maintain and that kind of maintenance ain’t cheap.

*****

You can see that this type of interaction between character and NPCs only works if all the parties involved expect the same situation. So often, when dealing with newcomers to the game, the players all treat the situation as a free party turned on for them with no expectation that they have to do anything in return. In fact, this is the best time for roleplaying to commence. So many players bitch and whine about having to spend points on skills like Dance or Play Instrument or Intrigue, but this is exactly when investment in those skills starts to pay off.

It's an instance where the rulebook doesn’t cover what is essential to the world in which the game takes place. None of this material is explicitly covered in the “Pendragon” rules set; it’s just a given that those playing will know how the medieval world works. On the one hand, as it so often happens in the canon literature, it can be dispensed with in a single sentence – “that night they came upon a pleasant castle and made good cheer”; on the other, it can be turned into the start of a great adventure. Below are some house rules for running this sort of interaction:

Encounter Description:

Mechanics & Result:

The Arrival.

The Knight enters into the territory controlled by a local authority, either a Manse or Mansion; an Abbey, Priory or some other religious outpost; or a Castle.

Roll Awareness, based upon the skill of the local ruler or using a base 15 value. Success means that the knight has been spotted and preparations for their arrival will be underway; Failure means that the knight arrives unexpectedly, and their presence causes confusion.

The Unhorsing.

This is usually executed by stablehands: a Squire of the local lord, one of their competent Grooms, a Smith (if present) or, at worst, a Page.

Roll Horsemanship:

Squire 16; Groomsman 15; Smith 17; Page10

Success means that this is a smooth event; Failure indicates that the Horse is uneasy and recalcitrant – further Rolls or intervention by the knight are needed to calm things down.

 

Identifying the Knight.

This is undertaken by Heralds (if present), Squires, Stablehands, Ladies-in-Waiting or Smiths

 

NB: the knight may wish – for various reasons – to travel incognito; have them roll Disguise and make sure that they are wearing a cloak. A Knight reserves the right not to identify themselves if they want.

Roll Heraldry, using the Lord’s skill or a base standard of 10.

This Roll is a contested one if the Knight is Disguised.

 

The Welcome.

This is by the head functionary of the establishment or by its Lord or Lady.

 

Use the Lord or Lady’s Courtesy skill; otherwise, a base of 16; if the locale has special requirements for entry – attending Mass; eating no meat; removing shoes – these should be discussed now. If the Knight has chosen not to identify themselves, this should be taken into account. It is permitted that the Hosts ask the Knight if there are any special reasons for their arrival.

The Unarming.

If there are no hiccups, the Knight is taken indoors and his armour and clothing are removed; they will be offered a bath, their wounds will be seen to, and they will be given new clothes.

Roll either First Aid or Chirurgery, depending upon the severity of the wounds; the skill is equal to the Lord or Lady of the locale or a base score of 15. Run Successes or Failures as per normal.

The Shriving.

The Knight will be asked to attend a Mass or other Blessing ritual. This might be private (one-on-one with the Priest) or a regular session.

This depends upon the religious persuasion of the Knight, and maybe be deflected or embraced as needed. Run Blessings and any other religious effects as per normal.

The Feast.

The Knight is led into the space where the evening’s festivities will take place; they will be shown to a place of prominence and will be served a generous portion of wine and some food. The Lord or Lady will welcome them, in person or via their head functionary or Herald.

This is a space wherein the Knight can exercise whatever skills they feel are appropriate. They will need to roll their Courtesy at least three times to pass muster. As well they can choose to roll any of the following skills in order to join in with the festivities:

Compose; Dancing; Gaming; Orate; Play Instrument; Singing; Tourney

Any Failures can be smoothed over by Courtesy roll from either the Knight or the Hosts (as the Lord or Lady’s skill, or base 15).

 

 

The Gossip.

As the evening progresses, the Knight will hear many interesting things concerning the locality.

The Knight can roll any of the following:

Flirting; Heraldry; Hunting; Identify; Industry; Intrigue; Recognise; Religion; Stewardship; Tourney

If there are things to be learned, the Knight will hear about them in this fashion and may act upon this information as they see fit. Failures should be managed as seems best, but most Failures can be smoothed over by a Courtesy roll from either the Knight or the Hosts (as the Lord or Lady’s skill, or base 15).

 

 

 

The Giving of Gifts.

This is based upon whether or not the Knight has had any Critical Successes during the evening. If affirmative, the Knight will be given something splendid or highly useful (but not so much as to unbalance the story) as they take their leave. This might be a Faery Steed, or a Sword with a magical property, or simply a nice new suit of Armour. Match the gift with the amount and quality of the successes.

While it’s possible to organise all this activity into a timetable as shown above, it remains the goal of the Referee to provide an elegant and easily-flowing story. Treat the above information as a guideline for the event and never let it get in the way of your purpose and your story’s intent. In fact, if staying overnight at a Castle, Priory, or Manse seems likely to slow things down too much, just say this:

“They had good lodgyng and good chere, and at the laste departed.”

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