While many people know the tales of King Arthur and the
Round Table, fewer are familiar with his Irish counterpart, Finn McCuimhaill,
and his noble Fenian Knights. Though
both kings were mighty warriors, it was unlikely, given the sad history of
their two isles, that they would be friends.
This scenario began with the concept of a showdown between the Ard Ri of
Eire and the Ard Tor of all the Britains, but as ideas are wont to do it
morphed into something slightly more, and stranger. So, with apologies to The Cattle Raid of Cooley …
The Bride-Raid of O’Branum
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It came to pass in the days of heroes and giants
that the Ard Tor, Arthur, King of the Britains, did hold his court at Camelot
with all his knights, who competed for honors at feats of arms and gallantry. Chief among them and first at the side of
the King was the French knight called Lancelot, whose sword was swifter than
any viper and could sunder any shield.
And the people did say that with Lancelot to defend the King, the sun
should never set on Britain again.
But Arthur did brood and
despair. For Lancelot, being French,
did take into his bed any number of women, from serving girls to nursemaids,
common and noble, single and married, young and old, even up to the wife of the
King himself, fair Guenivere. And
Arthur did counsel himself: “This French madness must stop, or soon every
daughter of Britain shall be sister to its every son, and all must take foreign
husbands or the land shall perish!” And
he did entreat with Lancelot to marry, but Lancelot heeded him not.
It also came to pass that on the
Isle of green Eire, on the edge of the Sunset Sea, was there a daughter of the
house of O’Branum, and the eldest daughter of that house, whose mother was the
daughter of a foreign lord, and whose beauty exceeded that of any woman in the
two Isles. Tales of her beauty spread
far and wide, reaching even to the ears of the Ard Tor high in Camelot. And he did consult with his Round Table, and
said unto them that here, finally, was a troth that Lancelot could not but
pledge. “Let us go,” he said, “into the
Sunset Sea, and bring back this woman to Camelot to be wed, and let all our
households know peace once and for all.”
Far and away, King Mikos, Ri of
O’Branum, did mull and brood at the news that the Ard Tor of all the Britains,
with his ships and armor and swords and shields and all his knights, had set
sail to seize O’Branum’s fairest jewel.
“Few are my swords,” he bemoaned, “and many those of Arthur. Weak my retainers, and strong the arms of
his knights. It is to the hills I must
fly. I cannot prevail.”
But in his brooding did a messenger
come to him in bright rainment. “I come
from the Ard Ri, Finn MacCuimhaill” he proclaimed, “who this day marches with
the bravest of his knights. He sent me
ahead to say unto you thusly: ‘Brave Mikos, who has done so many times service
unto my house, how angry was I to hear of the Ard Tor coming unjustly against
you. I travel unto you now to repay
your service. I am your man for this
day, and where you say to go, so shall I go, and shall fight the Britons
there.’”
Mikos gained hope, but still he
brooded. “The Ard Ri is mighty,” he
reflected, “but the glory of Camelot shines to every corner of the world.”
And in his brooding did a druid of
the grove come to him in a cloak of leaves.
“Brave Mikos,” he said, “and son of the earth of Eire. The very stones this day have heard your
distress, and mighty Cuchulainn is roused from his slumber. He comes hither to stand with you against
the invader.”
And Mikos gained more hope, but
still he brooded. “Strong and wild is
the hound Cuchulainn, but he makes his own path. Morelike he will come in his own time, to avenge my rotting
bones.”
And then did the Lady O’Branum come
to Mikos in his brooding. “I have
word,” she said, “from my father across the Sunset Sea. He has heard of your plight, and sends his
bravest warriors to stand by your side.
Their bows are strong as the boles of oaks, and their swords so sharp
they can sever a man’s head and it will be a night and a day and another night
before he sees he is wounded.”
“My fair lady!” roared Mikos. “With such on my side, I can battle the Ard Tor after all! Let us stand to the defenses!”
With that, the Lady O’Branum
embraced the mighty thews of her husband.
“Mikos, I love you,” she said, “long time.”
Mikos is an Irish-descended Texan who loves to paint and field Japanese samurai. It was with the highest motives of friendly ribbing that I presented the preceding narrative to players before the game. Rules were D&D Minis, with character stats prepared for the mythical personalities. - Vynnie
O'Branum in the gloaming, the calm before the attack. |
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A line of wagons stops the charge of English knights. |
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Kerns screen the bridge that divides O'Branum. |
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The knights break through! |
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Clouds hide the sun as the English reach the bridge. Noble samurai match blades with fearsome Sir Tristram. |
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Arthur's stout ally King Pellinore and his son Sir Lamorak crush the last of the wagon-line defenses. |
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The battle at the bridge rages on, as Tristram pits his mighty blade against Kyoto steel. |
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An ambush from the building traps royal Pellinor, and makes his son a king. |
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The melee swirls about the fallen king. |
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Tristram clears the bridgehead just as the cavalry push through, but Swena Selga and his gallowglasses move to bar the span. |
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"Rejoice, for this day your darts shall taste English flesh!" |
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With feral speed comes the little hound Cuchulainn. The three-turn reign of King Lamorak is at an end. |
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The old bridge shudders with the clash of arms. |
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The British men-at-arms are repulsed, but Arthur, Gawaine, and Tristram step in to clear the way. |
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Swena Selga is fresh, and his enemies tired from the hacking of flesh. But the odds are three to one ... |
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"Now! Hold the bridge!" |
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The pounding of hooves ... |
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... presages a whirlwind of death ... |
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... that sends broken men reeling in despair. |
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Again, Arthur is stymied at the bridge. |
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And so the heroes step in, threshing the blows of which the bards shall sing. |
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Back and forth they duel, the blood of legend soaking into the stones. |
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Brave Arthur falls. Somewhere on distant winds, Mordred feels his place in history slipping away. The tides of war leave Sir Palomides the Saracen, exhausted, bleeding, face to face with Mikos Ri.
"Kill me, Irishman. You shall not have the pleasure of my surrender." |
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"That wish, I can oblige." |
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"Father, are you there? I feared for you!"
"It is done. Let us bury our dead, and rest." |
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This was a 1500-point scenario that went no fewer than 25 turns before one side could produce a clear victory. That victory came from a duel between the last two combatant figures on the board, Mikos and Sir Palomides. Even then, Palomides almost won.
If you wish to bring a little Celtic fun into your D&D Minis games, here are the army lists we used. Some stats are as published by WOTC, others are home-brew.
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