This one stands up on its own and gives a taste of melding history with role-play. Plus I had so much fun researching Guy of Warwick, I'd like to pass on some of his heroic deeds.
The jester gathered his ghost hunters into the library, his excitement evident. “Good evening, my friends. Tonight’s session is a little different because its subject is of truly great significance to the history of the whole town, as well as the castle. Streets all over Warwick still bear his name.”
Evadne sneered. “Oh no, not more history lessons with Rosalina being taken over by the spirit of a wanton female ghost.”
He chuckled. “The exact opposite. Tonight you will all have the opportunity to take part in an immersive experience so you can better understand the spirits involved. It concerns a legendary hero known as Guy of Warwick, whose massive footsteps can be heard walking from one tower to another, in particular the Bear and Clarence gun towers which form the north-west entrance to the castle enclosure.”
“They were built by Richard the third in the fifteenth century.” Professor Grenville couldn’t help himself
Neither could Kurt. “I believe Bear tower is so called because it held the creatures used in bear-baiting.”
“I don’t think that’s ever been proven.”
Before the pair could get into another pissing contest, the jester informed them of the characters they would be connecting with, and Kurt smirked, pleased to be taking on the leading-man role.
The jester set the scene.
Guy Gorian was a humble cupbearer, a page at the court of Lord Rohand, the Earl of Warwick. We find him in the kitchen, bemoaning his troubles with his best friend, Barty Miller.
He glanced at Rosalina, who mimed glancing up from her bread-making task. “What ails thee, my friend? You grouse like a dog with a sore head.”
“Talk not to me of dogs.” Guy slumped on a bench. Unless it is the pup who shares my beloved’s fair lap.”
“So she’s finally chosen. Did she go for the white one?”
“Of course. It may be the runt of the litter, but she dotes on it as though it were of the finest pedigree.”
“So why on God’s good earth would you be sad because Lady Felice has finally chosen a pup?”
“Felice.” Guy clasped his hands in rapture. “Even her name means happiness, and nothing fills my heart with more joy than one of her smiles.”
“You have seen her do this? On the few occasions I’ve caught a glimpse, her very mouth seems beset by a weight which turns down her lips so.” Barty demonstrated.
“You have lain eyes on her? Is she not the most beautiful of all women?” Guy sighed.
“And one of the richest. Or her father is. What makes you think the esteemed Earl would allow a match between his beloved daughter and a humble cupbearer?”
Guy’s face dropped and his friend nudged his arm. “I know your father was a noble Northumbrian knight, but now he’s a mere steward. You should lower your sights.”
“You don’t understand. Lord Rohand has invited me to join in tomorrow’s Tournament to show my valour.”
“But that’s wonderful news. He must have heard of your progress in the training yards. So why the sad face?”
“Because he invited me to the great dinner first.”
“How is that a bad thing?”
“Because one of the knights said they’d allow dogs at the table next. Not so loud the Earl heard, but I did. And everyone around him laughed at me.”
“They won’t be laughing when they’re on the ground, staring up at your broken lance, you mark my words.” ending Barty’s speech, Rosalina glanced at the jester, who inclined his head at her as he set the next scene.
And so our hero found himself sitting at the grand top table, after her father made a huge fuss, treating Guy as an honoured guest and introducing him to all the nobles. Shy at finding himself among so many grand lords, and knights, and fair ladies, he took courage and, raising his eyes, saw the Earl’s daughter Lady Felice staring at him thoughtfully.
Evadne picked up on the cue, affecting a cultured tone. “Are you the same Guy whose courage and swordsmanship have set a stir amongst all the brave knights here?” Felice gestured lower down the table and he felt the hostile glares of several men.
“I have some skills, but there are several squires who are my equal and many better.”
“Is there another named Guy?”
“N-no, my lady.”
“Then you are modest as well as handsome.”
Her smile brought the sun out, dazzling his poor eyes, which lowered as he desperately sought a suitable riposte: something witty, profound, or simply made of words. But none came, and her expectant silence dragged his shoulders down more than the heftiest pauldron. More than anything, he wished the dinner would be over so he could impress this beautiful lady with his combat skills. He sensed her interest waning, and when the nobleman sitting to her left asked a question, she seemed more than happy for him to claim her attention.
Guy was never so relieved as when the Earl stood, bidding his guests to follow him to the tilt, where the tournament would shortly commence.
The jester stood with an exaggerated bow. “As you may perceive, my fellows, the gentle Guy is far too modest to do any justice to the telling of his prowess that day. So it falls to me to hint at how well our hero fought in this great spectacle.”
He gestured at Isaac, who mimed fighting Ben and Georgie, while a backing track gave the clang of clashing metal. The detailed replica weapons were made from solid wood, which was strong enough to withstand blows, but light enough to wield easily. The jester continued, describing how Lord Rohand, Lady Felice, and many lords and ladies, watched while the knights jousted and fought.
“No one expected this newcomer to conquer his opponents with such ease, apart from Guy himself. He had no need to resort to underhand tactics as he unhorsed every one of the knights, and dazzled his opponents with speed, agility and such rare swordsmanship as had ever been seen. Shouts and cheers filled the air as he knelt before Felice.”
Guy bent forward as she placed a golden chain around his neck. He slid a glance at his trusted friend, whispering. “My heart beats so loud and fast – can you hear?”
Barty shook his head. “No, my friend.”
“Are you sure? I fear these nobles will heed it and know my every thought.”
“Well gone, Guy. Now lift your head.” Felice smiled kindly at him as she put the crown of roses upon his head. “It pleases my father greatly that the son of his trusted steward should be so brave.” She bent so close he could almost taste her sweetly-scented skin.
As he knelt before her, Guy knew he loved her, although he did not dare tell her so.
If this has whetted your appetite for some Dungeons and Dragons ghost-hunting role-play in Warwick castle, click the link to read the first chapters of Just in Time.
