The Last King of Ireland

Game Master Amergin the Wise

A fast rider crosses the river into Largay, and announces that High King Murtach Maclochlain of Ulster is dead, killed at Leitr-Luin. The rider continues South into Cavan, and King Coffey McGovern calls upon the tribe to convene.

It will take a few days before the tribesmen can answer the king’s call and make their way to Tuaim. In the meantime, the king invites the nobles and councillors of the township to assemble. The parish priest and a dozen freemen join the king and his household to discuss plans.

But the king has already decided what must be done. “The warriors will herd the cattle into the hills, along with the women and children,” he dictates. Everyone agrees. It is a safe a wise course of action.

He turns to his son, Fintan. “You will ride to Belcoo, and demand tribute,” he commands.

The king’s youngest son Braeden is surprised, and asks: “alone?”

“Of course not,” the King reassures Braeden. “Father Ó’Maille, have your man Padraic accompany my son. To be clear: I will hold him responsible if my son does not return.”

Father Ó Máille has no choice but to accept the king’s demand. “Padraic is at the church. He is a good man. He will keep your son safe. And I will pray for them both.”

Braedon protests: “you’re sending Fintan to demand tribute? That’s ridiculous! I should go.”

The King shakes his head. “I’ll want you here when the nobles convene,” he explains, and then he commands Fintan to find Padraic at the church, and cross the river promptly.

Dim-witted Fintan nods, bows awkwardly, and exits the room. He very much wants to please his father, and he is convinced that this mission will mend their difficult relationship.

But Braeden knows that this is at best a fool’s errand, and at worst a suicidal mission. The Lord of Belcoo is a greedy and clever old man, and he will not pay tribute unless forced to do so. His son is dangerous and able, and has proven himself on the battlefield. Braeden fears the worst.

He invents some pretext, and leaves the hall with haste. He finds Aoife. The slave girl may not much like him, but she cares deeply for Fintan, whom she considers like a brother. Braeden knows that she will want to come.

He finds her in the kitchen, and whispers: “Fintan needs your help.”

Without any hesitation, Aoife sets aside her chores, finds her gear in a chest and her sword hidden in the pantry, and follows Braeden.

They find Fintan at the church. Brother Ó Máille, the son of the parish priest, is keeping Fintan company while they wait for Padraic to gather his things.

“What are you doing here, Braeden?” Fintan asks.

Aoife smiles. “We’re coming with you,” she says just as Padraic arrives.

Brother Ó Máille hesitates only for a moment before stating: “so am I.” Everyone but Padraic is surprised. But it is obvious that the priest will not be denied, and so this most unlikely adventurer is accepted into this odd fellowship.

Braedan hurriedly gathers some meager supplies while waiting for Padraic. He straps on his leathers and his sword. He puts his guthbuinne (trumpet) over his shoulder. He carefully packs his bennbuabhal (horn-pipe) in it's case and puts it in his backpack.

He looks at Fintan and Aoife (whom he knows best) and says "Oi, we may be a few days on the road ere we can return. Is there naught else we need? By the by, lets hurry before Mother and Father realize we've flown the coop"

"Brother Ó Máille and Padraic, it will be grand to have you with us on this fools errand. How fare ye both for weapons and supplies? If needs be I can see what I can get from Father's stores."

When asked what else they might need, Fintan just smiles and shrugs. The bigger brother just seems happy that he has some company for the road. Indeed, he's happy enough that he looks toward his brother and Aoife, pats his horse gently, and asks them, "Would you like to ride Brave for a bit?" He could have said 'either of you,' and he probably meant that, but he didn't.

Fintan might seem well supplied at first glance. He has his traveling clothes (including a long cloak) and a bit of rope in a hoop about his waist. He has a signal horn, a waterskin, and a few days' worth of food in a satchel on his belt. It's perhaps overmuch for a quick journey to Belcoo, not much more than a mile away (a perfectly quick trip), but the young prince carries it nevertheless.

"Supplies!" Aoife said as she smacked her forehead with her left hand. "I was so worried about getting out before the King and Queen noticed we'd be gone..." She said with a long sigh. "Give me a moment, I'll head back in and gather a few things from the pantry." She quickly turned on her heels and ran back inside.

She slipped into the kitchen, then into the pantry. She gathered a few loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese, and salted meats. Aoife stuffed them all in her bag. Once she finished that she quickly, but calmly, walked out of the kitchen before bolting back to rejoin her lordling, the monk, and their warrior. "Alright, I gathered bread, cheese, and some salted meats. Along with what any of you have it should enough." She explained with a smile.

She shifted her bag so should could get to her strawberry blonde hair and braid it, before tossing it back of her shoulder. "This is going to be something! I've never been outside of the village." She exclaimed. "Um, I don't think I'm aloud to ride Brave. Besides tis your horse no? You should ride. I don't mind walking." She answered Fintan with a thankful nod.

Padraic strolls up to the group slowly, his pack already strapped to his back, gear all in place. He looks over those gathered before him and sighs inwardly, shaking his head slightly before smiling. "Well it is a colorful group we have here today, nach ea? Nil is agam whether we will be coming back but I feel lucky, so that is something!" He reached up to stroke the breast of his bird gently with one finger, where it sat on his shoulder, before he grabbed his spear and twirled it slowly.

"I'll hunt for whatever I don't have while we are on the road. I'm as ready to go as anyone!"

Brother Ó Máille stands slowly as Braedan begins to speak. "I have no need for weapons. My purpose is to comfort the hurting. As for supplies, it would appear Aoife is well prepared and I have no doubt in Padraic's ability to find game to supplement her stores while we travel." Remarkably, the slender man's face shows neither fear nor excitement, only calm.

You cross the river, which connects the Upper and Lower Lough MacNean, and which acts as the natural border between Cavan and Fermanagh. With Spring just around the corner, the river is high and the water is ice cold.

Belcoo is barely a mile away, NE across the river, on the narrow strip between the lakes. But these neighbours have proven themselves ever distrustful of the people of Largay. Once, a blood feud fuelled hatred and endless battles between Largay and the Tuath Ratha. For the last decade, a common enemy has allowed for a fragile peace. But now, Murtagh MacLochlain is dead. In the end, these two settlements stand on either side of a divide that will not soon be healed.

Demand tribute… You know that this is a cattle raid, plain and simple. The Lord of Belcoo is notoriously clever and vicious, and his son is an able warrior. Even outmatched, they will not simply bow down to the King of Largay.

As you approach Belcoo, you can plainly see, even from afar, that the cattle has been herded away. Belcoo seems abandoned.

Roll separately:

Roll only if above was successful:

Note: please roll all dice in thread.

Knowledge/Nobility(15): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

Knowledge/Brehon Law(15): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Knowledge/Irish History(15): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Knowledge/Irish History(15): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

As the group approaches Belcoo, Braedan tries to remember important details about the place and it's history.

"It seems that since the Quinns allied with the old high King, we can pretty much raid them with impunity...there may a few other important things but I can't recall them at the moment...I'm no tracker but perhaps we could find which way they took their herd."

I already made the rolls but I was wondering if "Taking 10" is a possibility in a situation like this...

I already made the rolls but I was wondering if "Taking 10" is a possibility in a situation like this...

I don't see why not. For the time being, given the rolls and the quote, let's imagine that you don't remember. But have a look at the spoilers anyways. If and when either topic comes up, your memory will be triggered.

"It seems that since the Quinns allied with the old high King, we can pretty much raid them with impunity...there may a few other important things but I can't recall them at the moment...I'm no tracker but perhaps we could find which way they took their herd."

To be clear: the Quinns are subjects of the Kingdom of Airghialla, which fought with Breifne against the High King. So the situation is in fact fairly complex as you have been instructed to raid neighbours that have often been enemies, but who were until recently allies.

"Is not Padraic a hunter?" Aoife asked as she did her best to keep pace with the group. "Mayhap you could track down the herd?"

Though something struck her as she spoke. "Um... Master Braedan, if I may know, what are we suppose to do? After all you just told me that Master Fintan needed my help."

You hear a horn blown five times. The sound seems to come from Belcoo, just up the hill. The village is not entirely abandoned after all...

"Aoife, Father sent Fintan to demand tribute from the Quinn's here in Belcoo. But we all know it's a fools errand and we're here to make sure nothing bad happens to our brother."

The horn sounds from Belcoo...

"Looks like they know we're here...anyone have any ideas?"

I was just trying to simplify the legal entanglements. I'm not sure I understand it all myself from what I read...

"Well... try to talk?" Aoife asked with a shrug. "Though that wouldn't be somethin' you want me doing. Now if we get into a fight, that I can help with!" She said smiling, some what proud of herself for that fact.

"Outside of that... nothing much." Aoife said. "But then anything else I'd come up with would be after they try to do something."

The young priest's stoic demeanor is interrupted momentarily by the trumpet blasts, but he quickly regains his composure. He replies to Brandon's question. "Truthfully, no. Would simply approaching them prove unwise?"

Fintan doesn't say much as the others talk around him. He's on foot, having walked with the others and simply led his horse behind him, and when the horn blows he stops walking. He stares off at Belcoo over the hill and begins to frown.

"What's that about?" he asks aloud, mounting his horse and resting his spear against his shoulder. The blue cloth affixed to it dances in the breeze. He looks down at Braeden and Aoife in turn as they speak, and looks a bit uncertain when Aoife talks of fighting, but he seems to lighten up at the priest's suggestion.

"Aye, that," he says. "Let's do that. Let's go talk to them."

"Fintan, don't let them provoke you into a fight...Sean is a trained killer. Father only wants you to demand tribute. I think talking is good for now."

Braedan removes his hornflute from his pack and begins to play a lilting marching tune as the group moves forward.

Remembering the scheming tricks of his enemies, he keeps a close eye out for an ambush but maintains a light step as they approach Belcoo...

Freezing rain begins to fall as you make your careful way up the muddy path to Belcoo. You find the village empty, and you can plainly see the tracks of cattle going NW towards Holywell.

You expected to find able warriors defending the village. Instead, you see only a crazed old man spying on you from inside a hut. Horn in hand, wearing nothing but a dirty smock, he is a pitiful portrait of a man left behind.

“Stay where you are,” he screams, stepping out of the hut into the rain. “There’s nothing here! No one!”

The demented old man slips and falls. Shivering, covered with mud, he crawls away from you.

“Please don’t kill me!” he cries, fearing the worst. You know that he has nowhere to go, and that he wouldn't last long in the hills, in this weather, dressed as he is.

Braedan, expecting the worst, is surprised by the state of the poor wretch and is moved with compassion. He bends all of his charm and skill to attempt to comfort and sooth the old man...

"Now father, be calm. No one here will hurt you. Rest a moment."

The Bard will attempt to approach the man to wrap him in a blanket and sit him by the fireplace.

"Let's get him back into the hut, get a fire started and see if we can warm these old bones. Perhaps we could all use some tea and shelter from this rain..."

Padraic sighs and shakes his head, walking up to the man, pulling the horn from his hands. "Here now, no one is going to kill you oldster. Get up out the mud and inside. No one needs to die today!" He offers the man a hand, watching him for any sign of a weapon.

The old man seems somewhat reassured by the kindness of Braeden and Padraic. Padraic relieves him of the horn, and Braeden wraps him in a blanket. They lead him back inside the hut, where they start a fire, and prepare some soothing pine needle tea.

"They told me I was to warn them when the army was coming. There's no army?" The wretched old man is both comforted, and confused. Clearly, he was left behind as a lookout.

Fintan dismounts his horse and sets his spear aside. His instinct is to remove his cloak and offer it to the old man. He doesn't speak, but nods consensus when Braedan and Padraic do so.

Padraic smiles, crouching by the fire, warming his hands. "Aye there is an army, but we ain't it. Seems they should be respecting their elders not leavin em in the path o possible danger." He shook his head grimly before standing slowly and walking back out in to the rain.

He nodded to Fintan to join him before leaning in to the man, to whisper so the old man wouldn't hear. "I'm going to go take a look around, see if there are others!" He slid his cowl over his head, before tying the horn to his belt.

He walked out in to the rain and began to move round the village slowly, keeping to blind spots. He stopped before the village proper and crouched in the hide of a building, reaching up to carefully remove the eagle from his shoulder. He slowly removed the cowl on the birds head, before pulling a length of meat from his belt and feeding it to the bird.

"Maith an buachaill Sciathán. Hunt!"

I'm done. Those were all the good rolls I am going to get for this whole campaign.

"I'm Braedan sir...what be your name?"

says the Bard conversationally over some Pine Needle Tea.

"We just came along and heard your trumpet. Tell me about what's happened here the last few days? Had a bit of trouble have ya?"

Ó Máille kneels down next to the man once he is situated by the fire to address any injuries.

Heal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

Aoife tended the fire and made the tea, as she normally would if the group was back home. On top of that she set about making everyone something warm to eat. She knew Braedan would be better at speaking with the elderly man then she would, plus it wasn't exactly her place any ways. Something she was happy to leave to others.

She set about using what she could to make a stew with some of the items she had brought with them, plus anything the old man would allow her to use that he had. Once she had finished the prep for the food she put it all into a pot and set it over the fire. With that, Aoife sat next to the fire tending it and the food as she listened to Braedan and the old man speak.

The shivering old man is more than happy to accept Fintan's cloak. Brother Ó Máille kneels and finds him healthy and unharmed. Aoife hands him hot tea. Thankful, the old man smiles.

He assumes the horseman to be the leader, and addresses Fintan: "We heard that the High King is dead, and the lord decided to drive the cattle away from Belcoo. He was afraid that you would attack. Are you really raising an army?"

He seems genuinely concerned.

Outside, Padraic carefully has a look around. The three huts are empty, and he is convinced that there is no imminent danger.

Despite the poor visibility and the rain, which has turned the earth to mud, Padraic finds the tracks of five men headed NE into the hills.

The eagle Sciathán circles above, just NE of Belcoo. Someone is out there, not far away...

Knowledge Geography-1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Padraic frowns before turning and trotting back to the house, leaning in the door.

"Got five in the hills to the north east. Waiting to ambush us if I don't miss my guess. We could trip the trap and lead them out to attack us before triggering our own trap. Or we could ignore them and go round. What do you all think?"

The old man knows who we are?

Braedan tells the old man

"Yes, we are raising an army. The army will be here soon. We're here to see if there is anything of value that you can give us that would convince the army not to burn your village down. You know by right that nothing would be done. You can save everyone a lot of trouble by telling us where your precious things are hidden and we can be on our way. We will convince the army that this place is not worth their trouble."

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

The old man pales.

"They're just boys, hiding out in the hills. Please," he pleads with Padraic.

Then he turns to Braeden: "We have nothing. Honestly. But...The fragment! If you convince your king to disband his army, I can tell you where you can find the fragment of the Spear of Lugh!"

"But first I need to know," he continues, "have you made an alliance with the O'Hignie?"

"We'll go collect them then old timer. I'll make sure none of em are killed, if they are only boys. If they are more though," He shrugged and looked apologetic. "You understand that if they are more I have to come back here and talk to you again, aye?"

Braedan finally remembers what was nagging at him. He had totally forgotten about the fragment in all the excitement to get Fintan to Belcoo.

After the tea and the stew...Braedan says...

"We know the Quinns support King Mulroney for the crown of Fermanagh. Why would we support O'Hignie? As far as I know, no alliance has been made yet. We'll see what Largay will do. Now about that fragment...You've made a wise choice. Show us the Fragment, give it to this rider and like the hunter says, we will spare those boys and your buildings if you are true to your word."

Knowledge Irish History: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14 Question: Does Largay support O'Hignie?

The Bard calls over to Brother O'Maille "Can we speak outside brother?"

Once they are outside and out of earshot, Braeden asks
"Have you ever met or seen Fiacre Quinn? Has your father described him to you? He's not beyond putting on a show like this I've heard."

Knowledge Nobility: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9 Does Braedan know what Fiacre Quinn looks like?

As far as Braedan knows, there is not understanding between Largay and the O'Hignie.

"I don't have the fragment. It belongs to the King of the Tuatha Ratha. But I know where it is. Please, let me get the boys. There is no need to fight."

Hesitantly, he stands.

"There has been enough blood shed between our people. Perhaps now is the time to end this blood feud once and for all?"

Most of you have seen or, in some cases, been introduced to Fiacre Quinn, along with his son and daughter.

"Mayhap we should try." Aoife said in a low tone. She knew she could get away with a bit more around Finton and Braeden, but she didn't need to push it. "Besides, I'd rather not fight in freezing rain. I'll make a bit more stew, everyone tends to be more agreeable when out of the rain and a warm meal in their belly." The young woman smiled before she set about making more food.

Padraic thought about it for a minute before nodding and gesturing for the man to lead the way. "It is a good idea. I'll be standing right there with you and I genuinely mean neither of yeh any ill will, but at the same time, if it all turns sour, I'll just cut you down where ya stand. Seems fair!" He nodded sadly.

"Lead on old timer and may the lord Jesus look kindly on you if you are lying ta me!"

While Aoife prepares more stew with what meagre supplies they have, Padraic accompanies the old man outside the hut, and into the hills.

Who else is going into the hills? Who is staying in Belcoo?

Responding to the bard, Ó Máille shrugs. "I know of him, though personally, I know little about the man"
Please correct me if I'm wrong, GM.

As Padraic exits the doorway, Ó Máille places a hand on the man's shoulder. His words are few, but stern. "Be careful."

Finally, he turns to Aoife. "Would you like some help with that stew?"

Our priest friend plans to stay in the hut.

Braedan adjusts his traveling equipment and joints Padraic and the old man.

"I believe we should all go or at least be ready in case these are not mere boys. I'll sound my trumpet loudly if we run into any trouble."

The Bard begins to play a lilting traveling tune on his hornflute again. He hangs back slightly behind Padriac who follows the old man.

Aoife looked over to the brother, pressing her lips into a fine line as if trying to figure out if she should allow the brother to help. Then again help in the kitchen was always welcomed back home. "Very well, might as well ensure it's all done when they get back huh?" Aoife shrugged as she allowed the Brother to help.

Oddly enough this had been the closet Aoife had been to someone of the faith for almost four years now.

As the others talk around him, Fintan absorbs their words, seeming to glean something from their conversation. He nods a little here and there, at first when Padraic suggests tripping some sort of trap, and again when the old man begs for a more peaceful approach, and yet again when Braedan uses clever words to convince the old man to get the boys so they can find this fragment. Perhaps he nods too much. His only true blunder is when he starts to say "What army?" but he cuts it off at "What?" when he realizes what Braedan is doing.

It takes Fintan some time to decide whether to stay or go, but in the end he just nods one last time at Aoife and the priest before ducking his head as he steps out from the hut and into the rain. He gets onto his horse once more and joins his sibling.

Knowledge (Nobility): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18

How significant would this fragment of the Spear of Lugh be in politics? And in what way?

On his way out, Fintan whispers in his brother's ear: "How significant is this fragment of the Spear of Lugh?"

If the roll above is successful:

If the roll above is successful:

Braedan and Fintan follow Padraic and the old man, leaving Aoife and Brother Ó’Máille alone in the hut.

You make your way through deep mud, up into the hills NE of Belcoo. The sleet is falling hard now and visibility is terrible in the waning light. It is cold, and you almost wish you had stayed by the fire. Fintan is soaked and for a moment regrets lending his thick cloak to the old man.

Soon, you are pretty much lost. But the old man seems to know exactly where he is going.

Suddenly, the miserable old man is struck by a javelin! In the rain and the dim light, you can barely make out the shape of the attacker standing behind a large boulder, forty five feet away. It was a strong, expert throw, which suggests an able warrior.

Three more warriors appear, and hurl their javelins, which fall short.

Padraic's Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Padraic's Perception: 1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 6 - 4 = 10

Braedan's Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Braedan's Perception: 1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 6 - 4 = 10

Fintan's Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Fintan's Perception: 1d20 + 5 - 4 ⇒ (19) + 5 - 4 = 20

Fintan can now act in the surprise round. Then, Padraic and Braedan can act before the enemy.

Note that due to poor visibility, perception checks are at -4. Also, due to poor visibility and terrain, movement is hampered twice.

Can Braedan 'Take 10' on these knowledge checks since they would be common knowledge for him? Perhaps just tell me which ones require rolls.

What range are we looking at for these warriors?

Should I wait for Fintan to act or just go ahead since we are before the warriors?

Can Braedan 'Take 10' on these knowledge checks since they would be common knowledge for him? Perhaps just tell me which ones require rolls.

You can take 10 on all knowledge rolls. I will usually expect a roll only during role play.

What range are we looking at for these warriors?

Should I wait for Fintan to act or just go ahead since we are before the warriors?

The encounter distance is 45'. As for deciding your action, I invite you to wait for Fintan and Padraic, as what they do may affect your decision...? If you do not think that it will, you can act now.

When the javelin buries itself into the old man's chest, a fire is lit up in Fintan. "Old man! No!" he roars out, and he grips his spear in both hands before leveling his glare at the one who killed him. "YOU!" There is a promise of death in that tone.

He spurs Brave into a charge, and he strikes with his spear at whichever of the javelineers is unlucky enough to be in his path.

Free Action - Enter rage. -2 AC, +4 STR/CON. Charging as a Standard action in the Surprise Round, so -2 AC for this round and +2 attack. Fintan's AC is 12 for this round, and my attack bonus with my lance should be +9. I will use Power Attack to make it +8 but gain extra damage.

Attack (Lance, mounted charge): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

Damage (Power Attack, two-handed): 1d8 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15 x2 for mounted charge with a lance. But it's probably a miss. Curse you, fickle attack dice!

Enraged, Fintan spurs his horse forward. But the terrain makes the charge near impossible. He moves 10' through the mud, closing in on his foes.

You cannot charge through difficult terrain. And the enemy has cover behind boulders, so you don't have a clear path. And the difficult terrain and poor visibility mean that movement is hindered twice!

The old man collapses.