Sometimes things fall together in a game perfectly. Today's Pendragon was just that. There was a lot different about it - all five people present, an extended session covering two years and enterting into 'Excalibur' territory - but in the end, it boiled down to this.
In one scene we rode as knights serving our King, we battled through ranks of warriors, took grave wounds and captured an enemy King.
In another scene we fought as knights serving our King, battled through ranks of warriors, took few wounds and killed a King.
The first was Octa and we were JUBILANT. It was our first real battle as effective knights rather than pieces on the board. My character took charge of the line of battle (I don't care if you have a Battle 15, noob, I have a Proud of 16!) and did some Battle stuff like reforming lines for charges etc. Our tactic for engaging Octa worked (just) as we realised that we were not the uber warriors we appear to be - but we won and were feted with Glory.
A scant two hours later, our jubilation had turned to a palpable sense of unease as we made war with King Gorlois for daring to not let King Uther boff his wife. He had broken the rules of hospitality and therefore .... must die? Wasn't he the King that broken the saxon flank at Lindsey? Not only did we make war upon him, but in defence of the dead Prince Madoc, we five hacked that King to pieces as he struggled to release his sword. And some of our knights then turned Terrabil into a carnal house.
You can say a lot about this game - the emerging personalities of the knights, the growing mass of children and the complications they create, the holdings that we develop, the relationships - but this is a game of Arthurian myth and in the end it is these extremes of emotion, caused by the vagries of the customs of the time that really stand out. We, the Heroes of Lindsey, sided with the King in a case of Super Horny Regicide, because we is our Liege. We, the players in the 21st century, fully appreciate the ludicrous nature of that action.
Powerful stuff!
Neil