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Horses are not for you Part Two:
I would like to start this out with the last installment of Horses
Are Not for You. From my perspective Charity the noble Warrior
who has had glorious and finely
breed steed(s) shot our from under her, impaled, the legs broken, pummeled
to death(I was not there), and last but not the least decapitated
all while she
was riding the horse.How does a girl get a break? Not literally either...
We get sent into the future at the end of a giant battle (where
my last horse was decapitated) and start thinking about how I
might break this chain of
events. So I think I'll get a butt ugly mean horse. So I ask the NOMAD(Ackbar)
of the
party to pick out a horse mean enough to survive my long line of horse problems.
He picked the meanest, ornery horse anyone has seen. It had battle scars,
It had one eye and it bit anything that came in five feet of it, and charged
the
rest who stepped foot in range of it. I thought this was the perfect horse.
I had to get on the damn thing first it took me a half a day to get it going
where I wanted it to. Several horsemanship checks later (150 and above rolls)
it decided to go along with what I wanted it to. As we went to leave the
corral the groom said "No one who has ever taken care of the horse
has not knocked it out." handed me a short two by four "Complimentary
from us to you." I
thought it was ridiculous.
So great we are off on our grand adventure......or so I thought. The GM says make an initiative check vs the horse. I just see out of the corner of my eye it rears it nasty looking head bares it's teeth to chomp in. I had had enough. I slugged it, knocking it out cold while everyone else was rolling on the ground laughing their butts off at me. Does it stop there? Nooooo, once a week or so ( maybe twice a week,not predictable of coarse) We have to do this I start making a big deal to the GM that I am looking for signs of it misbehaving(I think to this day that Ackbar was making side bets with the other party members of how long it would be before I knocked it out again ! ).
After a couple
of fights the horse, and I have started to work things out. And it
is a really good war horse. I thought this was great and
this was
the steed
for me. We team up with a group of of local law enforcers they
said that there was a problem that needed our help. So we went along to
see what was
there. It
was a small pack of ghouls. We rode them down my horse was particularly
effective against the pack. Then we went over the next ridge and
saw
what was next
it was a raving howling horde of screaming ghouls. We took one
look at this group and
turned tail. I not only found out this horse was an excellent
(if troublesome) horse that had survived more than three encounters. But
lead the way
for the rest of the group. The fastest horse I had ever ridden,
and do you know
what
happened? Remember what I had said? We were in the future. . .
. Yes that is right in the future. Which means of coarse in two sessions.
I lose the
horse
because we are sent back to our own time,and never get to ride
it again
for while we were in that campaign so yet again horses are not
for me!!!!!
Arachnid Problems:
We were exploring a ruin of a tower that a mercenary band that
had been hired to take care of us troublesome meddlers. We had
either killed
or driven
off the
remainder of the mercs. We then had found some really good treasure
in the camp so decided to go and look in storage area. Does any
of this sound like
a good
idea? We thought so........
Basil(the priest) and I(Charity the noble warrior) went one way. Beregost(the mage) went with Ackbar(the mentalist)the other way. So that we could get going faster and make sure that nothing was left. While Dolf(thief) and Thorn(rogue) waited topside. So that no one snuck up on us.
Dropping a rope to make sure that, one we could find our way out, and two to make sure that if we fell (in a trap). We would have a better chance to not get hurt.
As we looked around in the dark musty cobweb filled basement filled tower. The wooden floors creaked as we went down further we found the wood gave way to stone. Beregost saw out of the corner of his eye a movement and he quickly threw a couple of firebolts destroying it. Ackbar also struck at it they study it for a moment it had the chameleon ability, and blended right into the floor. Ackbar poked it with his sword drawing it back saw some slight etching nothing to damage the sword yet. As best they could tell from poor lighting it was arachnid shaped They called out, and we came running down the hall Beregost and Ackbar decided to have us all stick together. Good thing too.
We saw another one Beregost quickly smote it with another firebolt it was small so he took it out with the one shot. Then I noticed along with Basil this hissing sound the priest backed up and I called the two magic users as I realized that the walls were seemed as if they were breathing, then, moving, and hissing at us. They looked around at the walls and we all ran at the same moment as the hissing broke into insect like screeches and squeals. "Oh S**t " was all we said.
We then ran (we ran making checks) no one stumbled. Basil and I grabbed two barrels as we went up that we knew had oil in them screamed at Dolf and Thorn to grab the rope to make sure that we would not fall. As fast as we could we scrambled up the sloped floor rolling the barrels.
I quickly realized that we were losing ground by taking the two barrels. I shouted at the guys to watch out as we let one roll down the slope it cracked spilling oil. We pushed the other one up the slope, as Ackbar and Bergost climb the rope (due to the slippery floor)Thorn starts pulling them up. Basil and I frantically bust open the oil barrel and throw it down the hall. We can hear them coming Dolf helps Beregost out, and we throw down a torch that Dolf is holding. Ackbar ignites something else as we start to burn the tunnel we had come from flame licks up as we hear the shrieks. They are even louder we slam shut the doors, and bar them we then do what any one else would do we ran. I think that our GM really likes making us run from things. I think he gets some form of sick amusement. But as he says we keep coming back for more.
I run a Rolemaster campaign set in a low-magic world very similar to real medieval Europe, using various house-rules and a complete re-write of the magic system. Four players, Spider, Richard, Invis Dave and Tom, playing two characters each (I'm lucky enough to have good enough players to pull this off).
Early on in this campaign, a couple of years ago, the party were in a part of the world that translates to roughly Western Scotland. They rode into to the last settlement before entering serious highlands, not suitable for horses, where they expected to find their goal. They arranged, and paid hansomly, for their steeds to be stabled, expecting to return within a few days.
Things didn't go entirely to plan, and it was several months (in both game- and real-time) before they achieved what they set out to, got lost in the mountains, and eventually stumbled out into a village. Now determined to get back down to the coast, set sail for home and leave this God-forsaken part of the world as quickly as possible, they made inquiries, and discovered there was a man with some horses who might be prepared to sell them.
Solara, megalomaniacal Mentalist Russian "Princess," does some half-hearted negotiations, and eventually settles on a value some 4 or 5 times the market value for these steeds (these being the only ones for miles, and the party carrying more loot than they really know what to do with, they weren't too concerned), and the party saddles up and rides out of town.
Unable to keep a straight face any longer, I suggest to the party that they may wish to make appropriate Animal Care and/or Observation rolls. Sure enough, it dawned on the party that these were, in fact, the very same horses they had stabled some months earlier.
A brief inter-party argument, involving Solara, and Spider's other character, Oxenholme the Norseman, arguing against each other in a stunning 2 or 3 minute monologue/dialogue by Spider, and the suggestion to burn the village to the ground being put down by Richard's "Paladin" Sir Stephen, they settle for just riding away with what little dignity they can salvage, to the jeers of the villagers.
Solara was unable to bear this final insult, and rose in her saddle, turned, shook her fist and yelled some choice profanity in a variety of languages.
"Fine," I said, "Just make a ride roll" (I don't normally require rolls for such simple acts, but I was feeling especially malicious right then)
02.....96.....50-some.....
I ruled that Solara, while she was standing in the saddle and turned around, got clothes-lined by a low branch, fell flat on her back, taking some small bruises to her body, and a massive one to her pride, and watched her very expensive, twice-bought horse trot carefully away.
The rest of the players kindly assisted me in demonstrating the laughter of the villagers, to the extent that that was pretty much the end of the session, we were all laughing so hard.
As a side-note, Spider's other character, Ox, is now (several years of campaign time later) King of this same wet and mountainous realm (having essentially usurped it), and that one village is taxed at double the normal rate. But bards and minstrels across Northern Europe still sing the tale of Solara and her horse.
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