Bravewood 1: Het Toernooi van Philippe
Jun. 25th, 2007 09:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janestarzA new larp and one initiated by an old crush of mine. I ran into Prince again after a number of years. He went to the Czech republic with the school trip in 4HAVO/5VWO and so did I. He wrote a setting and called it Bravewood. And NoKey and I went and played.
Bravewood is a very low-fantasy setting and as such much fun. Nobles are nobles, and the commoners do not mix with them. NoKey and I played a chirurgeon and his wife.
My character is a priestess of the One God the setting has. There are three different kinds of priests. The kind I played only obeyed four laws (Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not lie, and thou shalt not curse) and do not talk much about their profession. Added bonus is that these priests can bind wounds and talk of peace, inspiring their listeners.
Cast:
NoKey as Kwintijn van Wilgen, chirurgeon
Keffie as Johan-Gerritsen Willemsen, of the Bravewood Militia.
Me as Elze van Wilgen, Priestess of the Eldest.
Kwintijn and myself lived in the province near the border with Swindon, but when the word reached our ears that Prince Victor was missing, we decided to travel to Bravewood, seat of power and filled with nobles, to help the commoners who would undoubtedly suffer under the ensuing power struggle between the nobles and the Archbishop.
We had hired a man to protect us underway, because a group of robbers were known to roam the woods. No sooner did we see the walls of Bravewood than we were attacked. The man fought valiantly, but still Kwintijn and myself were wounded before the robbers fled. I was only hurt on one leg, but Kwintijn had been wounded at both legs, and the man that had chased the robbers off helped me to get to him. We bound our wounds and resumed our way a bit more slowly.
The tavern of Bravewood welcomed us and Kwintijn sewed our wounds shut, taking great care to sew with small stitches on my leg. A man was brought in, wearing a robe and with dire wounds to his chest. We quickly ripped his clothes apart to clean and stitch the wounds closed, Kwintijn frowning as he worked while I washed the blood away.
The man's name was Kris Kuddel, and he told me he was a man of the clergy as well, who wished to take the suffering of the people onto his own shoulders. We talked quietly about the faith, and he was surprised I was a woman priest. I do not shout my profession from the rooftops, but I said I was a priestess indeed and asked him when he prayed and if he knew when I could pray.
The commander of the militia graciously offered me his workroom to pray and I sat down humbly on the floor and folded my hands in my lap. I spoke my prayers and heard some racket, but I thought it was in the
common room. Kwintijn opened the door and asked me if I was alright, but I told him to leave me alone.
Only when I was finished praying and saw the state the room was in, did I realize the noise was in the room where I was in. The chairs were overturned, and the things that had been lying on the table were strewn across the floor, except for a shield, that was now on the wall.
I cleared the mess away and went outside, fighting against tears. I never saw something like that, and reported it to the priest Kris, who urged me to tell the commander of the guard. That one in turn just
shrugged, and walked away, saying that it concerned him not.
Not much later, a man was brought in with his bowels spilling out of a hole in his belly. He was put on a table and we patched him up as well. It wasn't the first time I saw Kwintijn wield his scalpel on a patient, but it always terrifies me. What if it were to go wrong? Would he be the killer of the man? I always tell myself that the person who attacked the patient in the first place would be the killer, but it does not help with the fear.
The man came to and told us his name: Roderick van Niermann. Kwintijn told him the extent of his injuries and Roderick was very grateful, pressing a large expensive-looking crystal into Kwintijn's hand despite us saying it was too much.
I fell asleep in the middle of a conversation for some strange reason, dozing off while Kwintijn was talking to me. I dreamt I was in a black room, and I heard a voice say "I am here for you" before I woke up again, a worried Kwintijn peering into my eyes.
The tavern's dinner was boiled chicken with peanut sauce, so we opted for the snackbar instead. After dinner we were back in the tavern, checking on Roderick to see if his stitches would hold. I urged him again to rest and not exert himself, but had little time to spare because a young woman was carried inside. She had a large bruise on the side of her face and neck, and her companion, the man who had carried her, told us she had been hit by a mace.
Kwintijn carefully prodded the bones and determined nothing was broken. We laid her on the couch in the tavern and I sat with her until she woke up. She winced of pain, and I gave her a sip of water, carefully holding her head.
She stayed on the couch for a while, biting back the pain, and asked me where I was from and what I was doing there. I told her about fleeing Swindon, and how I came to meet my husband. How we ended up in Bravewood, trying to help the people.
I spoke softly (Elze is not one to speak harsly or shout), and in the end the woman nodded. I had heard her name was Isabella, and had handed her a letter that had arrived for her earlier, though we did not see the messenger. The missive spoke of how the commoners would be her friends and was signed "your lover". Elze is not one to gossip either, not even when she found out much later that Isabella is married to the missing prince Victor.
Isabella got up from the couch in the end, sending her footman to recruit rescuers for her husband, and pressing a silver piece into my hands despite my objections. In the end, Kwintijn and I accompanied her and the fighters into the night. We were cornered by the Shadowrunner however, and the brave Captain of the guard Johan-Willemse's throat was cut. Kwintijn and I ran to his rescue, performing an impromptu stitching by the moonlight and dragging him home.
On the road back to Bravewood, we found a corpse on the road. I sobbed over the body, a woman I didn't know. There was no-one around to claim her body either, and though she was all dressed in black, I could not help but weep. Kwintijn told me we had to go and the rest of the night I spent sitting by Johan's bedside, weeping for all the hurt in the world.
The next morning Lord Philippe the unconquered announced his tournament, and though I begged him to not go through with the tournament, he went on with it regardless. We had asked the fighters Sven, Olaf and Brenda to find a herb to help cure Cpt. Johan, and they returned before the tournament started. Kwintijn put the herb on Johan's wounds, and Johan shouted in agony. Luckily, the herb seemed to work, and Johan's sobs subsided. After half an hour, he felt much better and the wounds had started to knit. We helped him up from his bed and took him outside to sit and watch the tournament.
We had to repair Roderick's stitches after a brutal beating, and though he winced, he did not cry out. We also had to give Lord Philippe a sleeping herb in order to let him lie down to fix his wounds. "Since Lord Philippe has never been beaten, we call this a draw!" were his last words before he fell asleep.
All in all it was a good weekend with some fun roleplay. There were times we didn't have much to do, but I managed to fill my time with character development (praying etc). The unexplained phenomena were unsettling, and Elze is basically a character that cries for the pain of the world. So unlike me, in a way.
I'm looking very much forward to BW2!
Bravewood is a very low-fantasy setting and as such much fun. Nobles are nobles, and the commoners do not mix with them. NoKey and I played a chirurgeon and his wife.
My character is a priestess of the One God the setting has. There are three different kinds of priests. The kind I played only obeyed four laws (Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not lie, and thou shalt not curse) and do not talk much about their profession. Added bonus is that these priests can bind wounds and talk of peace, inspiring their listeners.
Cast:
NoKey as Kwintijn van Wilgen, chirurgeon
Keffie as Johan-Gerritsen Willemsen, of the Bravewood Militia.
Me as Elze van Wilgen, Priestess of the Eldest.
Kwintijn and myself lived in the province near the border with Swindon, but when the word reached our ears that Prince Victor was missing, we decided to travel to Bravewood, seat of power and filled with nobles, to help the commoners who would undoubtedly suffer under the ensuing power struggle between the nobles and the Archbishop.
We had hired a man to protect us underway, because a group of robbers were known to roam the woods. No sooner did we see the walls of Bravewood than we were attacked. The man fought valiantly, but still Kwintijn and myself were wounded before the robbers fled. I was only hurt on one leg, but Kwintijn had been wounded at both legs, and the man that had chased the robbers off helped me to get to him. We bound our wounds and resumed our way a bit more slowly.
The tavern of Bravewood welcomed us and Kwintijn sewed our wounds shut, taking great care to sew with small stitches on my leg. A man was brought in, wearing a robe and with dire wounds to his chest. We quickly ripped his clothes apart to clean and stitch the wounds closed, Kwintijn frowning as he worked while I washed the blood away.
The man's name was Kris Kuddel, and he told me he was a man of the clergy as well, who wished to take the suffering of the people onto his own shoulders. We talked quietly about the faith, and he was surprised I was a woman priest. I do not shout my profession from the rooftops, but I said I was a priestess indeed and asked him when he prayed and if he knew when I could pray.
The commander of the militia graciously offered me his workroom to pray and I sat down humbly on the floor and folded my hands in my lap. I spoke my prayers and heard some racket, but I thought it was in the
common room. Kwintijn opened the door and asked me if I was alright, but I told him to leave me alone.
Only when I was finished praying and saw the state the room was in, did I realize the noise was in the room where I was in. The chairs were overturned, and the things that had been lying on the table were strewn across the floor, except for a shield, that was now on the wall.
I cleared the mess away and went outside, fighting against tears. I never saw something like that, and reported it to the priest Kris, who urged me to tell the commander of the guard. That one in turn just
shrugged, and walked away, saying that it concerned him not.
Not much later, a man was brought in with his bowels spilling out of a hole in his belly. He was put on a table and we patched him up as well. It wasn't the first time I saw Kwintijn wield his scalpel on a patient, but it always terrifies me. What if it were to go wrong? Would he be the killer of the man? I always tell myself that the person who attacked the patient in the first place would be the killer, but it does not help with the fear.
The man came to and told us his name: Roderick van Niermann. Kwintijn told him the extent of his injuries and Roderick was very grateful, pressing a large expensive-looking crystal into Kwintijn's hand despite us saying it was too much.
I fell asleep in the middle of a conversation for some strange reason, dozing off while Kwintijn was talking to me. I dreamt I was in a black room, and I heard a voice say "I am here for you" before I woke up again, a worried Kwintijn peering into my eyes.
The tavern's dinner was boiled chicken with peanut sauce, so we opted for the snackbar instead. After dinner we were back in the tavern, checking on Roderick to see if his stitches would hold. I urged him again to rest and not exert himself, but had little time to spare because a young woman was carried inside. She had a large bruise on the side of her face and neck, and her companion, the man who had carried her, told us she had been hit by a mace.
Kwintijn carefully prodded the bones and determined nothing was broken. We laid her on the couch in the tavern and I sat with her until she woke up. She winced of pain, and I gave her a sip of water, carefully holding her head.
She stayed on the couch for a while, biting back the pain, and asked me where I was from and what I was doing there. I told her about fleeing Swindon, and how I came to meet my husband. How we ended up in Bravewood, trying to help the people.
I spoke softly (Elze is not one to speak harsly or shout), and in the end the woman nodded. I had heard her name was Isabella, and had handed her a letter that had arrived for her earlier, though we did not see the messenger. The missive spoke of how the commoners would be her friends and was signed "your lover". Elze is not one to gossip either, not even when she found out much later that Isabella is married to the missing prince Victor.
Isabella got up from the couch in the end, sending her footman to recruit rescuers for her husband, and pressing a silver piece into my hands despite my objections. In the end, Kwintijn and I accompanied her and the fighters into the night. We were cornered by the Shadowrunner however, and the brave Captain of the guard Johan-Willemse's throat was cut. Kwintijn and I ran to his rescue, performing an impromptu stitching by the moonlight and dragging him home.
On the road back to Bravewood, we found a corpse on the road. I sobbed over the body, a woman I didn't know. There was no-one around to claim her body either, and though she was all dressed in black, I could not help but weep. Kwintijn told me we had to go and the rest of the night I spent sitting by Johan's bedside, weeping for all the hurt in the world.
The next morning Lord Philippe the unconquered announced his tournament, and though I begged him to not go through with the tournament, he went on with it regardless. We had asked the fighters Sven, Olaf and Brenda to find a herb to help cure Cpt. Johan, and they returned before the tournament started. Kwintijn put the herb on Johan's wounds, and Johan shouted in agony. Luckily, the herb seemed to work, and Johan's sobs subsided. After half an hour, he felt much better and the wounds had started to knit. We helped him up from his bed and took him outside to sit and watch the tournament.
We had to repair Roderick's stitches after a brutal beating, and though he winced, he did not cry out. We also had to give Lord Philippe a sleeping herb in order to let him lie down to fix his wounds. "Since Lord Philippe has never been beaten, we call this a draw!" were his last words before he fell asleep.
All in all it was a good weekend with some fun roleplay. There were times we didn't have much to do, but I managed to fill my time with character development (praying etc). The unexplained phenomena were unsettling, and Elze is basically a character that cries for the pain of the world. So unlike me, in a way.
I'm looking very much forward to BW2!
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no subject
Date: 2007-06-26 05:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-26 06:56 am (UTC)I added a picture of Kwintijn and Elze in the rain.