| The Willow Sourcebook |
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The most plentiful and least reliable source of information on Madmartigan's past is, of course, Madmartigan himself. He claims to have visited all the kingdoms, sailed every sea, become a knight of Galladoorn by age twelve, fought in three armies and six troops of mercenaries, guarded merchant caravans, joined a travelling circus, climbed within fifty feet of the summit of unclimbable Mount Chandraloa, climbed within twenty feet, stood on the summit itself, assassinated Count Venarium, rescued Count Venarium from assassination, visited the King of Cashmere's forbidden harem, escaped on horseback from Cashmere with fifty squads of soldiers in hot pursuit, defeated seven men at once (sometimes he says nine or eleven) in unarmed combat, and met seven noblewomen at a dinner party, all of whom he - well, on the subject of women, Madmartigan claims exploits that dwarf his other alleged feats. The astonishing point is that as much as one quarter of all this may be true. HIS YOUTH Madmartigan was born of well-to-do, though not noble, parents, and grew up in Galladoorn's thriving capital. The southern kingdom of Galladoorn, famed for its open borders and willingness to take the refugees of all lands, stood second only to Tir Asleen in wealth and power. In this cosmopolitan area young Madmartigan learned of far-off lands and cultures, heard exotic languages, and saw strange customs. The finest instructors taught him in hunting, sailing, archery, and horsemanship. Around the campfires of nomads' caravans from the East, Madmartigan loved to hear the old camel drivers tell tales. At their stained (and rather smelly) knees he learned how to tell a story with the verve, pace, excitement, and contempt for accuracy that satisfies the listener but makes the historian's job hard. It is certainly true that he showed his genius for the sword while very young. At ten, when a group of friends were ambushed by Pohas, Madmartigan slew four - or six - or eight Pohas with a sword. At ten, he neither owned a sword, nor had received instruction with one, but when one came to hand in the fracas, he knew instinctively how to use it - and how to inflate accounts of his heroism. While healers tended the wounds of his friends, Madmartigan demonstrated his swordsmanship, dancing lightly around spectators and tracing elegant patterns with a blade. All the while, an aged man looked on. He was so frail he could not stand upright, but his eyes gleamed as the boy postured. "Feet farther apart," he cried suddenly. The boy stopped, and the crowd fell silent. "Stability," croaked the old man. "Feet wide apart. And you are holding the blade like a mallet on the downswing. Treat it as an extension of your forearm." Madmartigan swung the blade as the elder advised, and found that it rested more easily in his grip. "You seem to know a lot about swords," he said, "for a guy who looks too weak to lift one." The old man's only reply was, "You quack too much, little bird. But you will be my student. Help me up; we go to your home." Fascination overcoming common sense (an uneven battle for Madmartigan, even then), the boy led the elder home. As easily as that, Madmartigan became the last and, he says, the greatest disciple of the swordmaster Roniro, the only living specialist in the lost school of sushin ("mosquito") swordfighting. This discipline, developed in the northeastern kingdoms beyond the mountains of Nockmaar, stresses adroit maneuvering, delicate control of the blade tip, and above all, finesse. Because it demands extraordinary ability, the style fell into disuse. With Madmartigan, it was reborn in the West. In the following years, he became essentially unbeatable. HIS KNIGHTHOOD Because so many knights of Galladoorn fell in the rebellion against Queen Bavmorda, few can verify Madmartigan's own account of his rise to the high honor of knighthood. "I must have practiced eight or ten hours a day for the next couple of years," he says. "That old man never let up, and never had a kind word. He made me so mad I worked harder, all the time, just to spite him. So by the time I was twelve, I'd gotten good enough to try out for knighthood." (Madmartigan always claims age twelve. Scholars doubt this. Questions of strength and endurance aside, knights also have to meet minimum height requirements.) "I passed the riding and archery tests, memorized all those oaths, and then I defeated a knight in single combat. You know who it was? My buddy Airk Thaughbaer! Was he mad! "It was hard, but I made it. The next-older candidate who ever succeeded was seventeen, and that was Airk." (True. Though probably not twelve years old, Madmartigan was certainly the youngest ever to achieve knighthood.) "Not long after, Roniro fell ill and died. I was with him just before he went, and he finally smiled at me and said, 'You have done well.' First time he ever gave me a compliment! Must have been the strain of it that killed him. But don't get me wrong, I was sorry to see him go. I wore black for a long time. "I got along all right with the other knights. But they were a pretty stuffy bunch. Polite, but all solemn like Airk. In the tournaments, the older knights would get depressed when I defeated them. So I didn't go to the jousts and the ceremonies. Instead I ran with the caravan drivers or walked in the bazaar. After a while, I fell in love, and then I really avoided the knights." Madmartigan still sighs over that first love, a sigh of sentiment or regret or disappointment. "She was a beautiful princess from Cashmere." (Possibly. In other accounts, Madmartigan claims she was a duke's daughter, an implausibly young widow of a viscount, or the queen's chambermaid.) "Her name was Carissima." (Kara, Carla, Celia, Solia, Catherine, Gwendolyn, Gladys.) "What a laugh she had, high and gentle. Lovely. Very impetuous and spoiled, but she had real spirit. And a carefree attitude, a belief that life should be enjoyed. There I was, tired from years of waving a sword; it's what I needed to hear. I fell for her, the way only a lovestruck kid can fall. "But it broke up after a year or so. Not much to tell about that; not very interesting." When Madmartigan says something in his life is "not very interesting", there is no surer sign that what he glosses over is phenomenally interesting. MADMARTIGAN'S FALL One of the surviving knights of Galladoorn, Garegg Toth, says Madmartigan took the oaths of knighthood more seriously than his recorded accounts allow. "Aye, though he was young, he worked all the harder to cleave to the ideal of honor - as did we all, but perhaps with not so much concern for failure." The knights of Galladoorn, known across the kingdom for unimpeachable integrity, swore never to betray a secret, never to desert a comrade in need, never to tire in defense of Galladoorn. Their reputation earned them the name "The Shining Legion." The young Madmartigan tried to live by that high standard, much as his friend Airk did. But he lacked Airk's stolidity, and this lack caused disaster. Madmartigan had an unknown enemy in court - not one of the knights, but a minister, Jarenth by name, who disliked the boy's cocksure manner and envied his great skill. Jarenth put Carissima (as we will call her, whatever her actual name) up to a flirtation with Madmartigan. Jarenth led her to think she would be testing the knights' reputation for secrecy. He told Carissima to endear herself to Madmartigan, then see what secrets he would betray. In a sense the minister's scheme went astray, for Carissima not only made the young knight fall in love with her; she in turn fell for Madmartigan. She refused to speak to Jarenth of what she may have learned. But Jarenth turned even this to his advantage. He presented to Carissima evidence that Madmartigan had betrayed their love in dalliance with another woman. Whether Jarenth had to fabricate this evidence is unknown - but fraud was not beneath him. Carissima became enraged and stormed off to confront Madmartigan. Jarenth had timed his revelation to coincide with a ceremony of great dignity, the annual Knight Processional. In this ritual, the knights of Galladoorn stood before the throne and renewed their oaths of loyalty. Carissima arrived in the crowded hall just as Madmartigan was renewing his oath. "Let any who would speak ill of my knighthood come forth," he said, expecting to continue unchallenged, as was usual. But Carissima shouted, "I can speak a great deal of ill!" And so, before all the knights, she did. Garegg Toth, the knight recounting the episode, still averts his eyes in recalling it. "She was impetuous, truly," he says. "When she thought he had thrown her away, destroyed everything they both held dear, she turned and fought like a panther. "She yelled out everything he had told her in confidence. Not only secrets that proved he'd betrayed his oath, terrible though that was. But also gossip, dreams, amibitions, and - merciful stars! - the things only one lover knows of another. Awful, Awful." But didn't Madmartigan try to reply? Didn't the knights try to remove this disruptive woman from the ceremony? The answer tells much of young Madmartigan, and of the origins of his character as we know it today. "After the first shock, he stood there," says Garegg. "He looked at her straight on, and a more despairing expression I never saw on any battlefield. Of course the king ordered the knights to remove her, less for Madmartigan's sake than for the audience's - we were as embarrassed as he. "But Madmartigan said clearly, 'Let her speak.' They were the only words he spoke. After that there was nothing for us to do but sit there and listen. He stood there, head up, with no expression, just swallowing once in a while." Why did fast-talking Madmartigan not offer an excuse, shout back, or deny everything? "Until after that day, Madmartigan did not speak so quickly," says Garegg. "He had a young man's idea of honor, the kind that can twist to strike you, like a knife in your hand. "I think he felt that if someone had reason to speak ill of him, he should in honesty hear the accusations. And none would dispute that, though there are more appropriate times for such things. But for the rest, I think, either Madmartigan would not question the word of his beloved, or he thought dignifying her accusations with a reply would bring dishonor on him. As though she had not done this already! A confused young man, as I say." Garegg concludes the account. "She finished in tears and ran from the hall. Nobody could say anything. Madmartigan walked from the room by another exit, like a man heading for the scaffold. He never saw her again. And we didn't see much of him, either." WANDERINGS In the next months no one in Galladoorn saw Madmartigan for days at a time. He ventured far away on hunting trips, and went tavern-crawling in every nearby village. Every barmaid knew him by name (though the names varied), but he evaded close relationships with any of them. Several times he was heard to shout, "I'll never again trust a woman!" though he now denies this strenuously. Tales of his reckless and unknightly behavior filtered back. The knights shunned him, all except Airk Thaughbaer. Even Airk's loyalty grew strained when Madmartigan took him on a hunting expedition - then, when it was much too late, informed Airk they were hunting Death Dogs. When the pack attacked, the two men slew three or four apiece and drove off the rest. But Airk was wounded, though lightly, and when they returned to Castle Galladoorn, he took Madmartigan into a private chamber for discussion. Madmartigan has never divulged what was said there, but he emerged hours later, climbed on the first horse he saw, and rode away from Galladoorn. At this point Madmartigan's own account launches into a twilight zone where fact and fancy cannot be separated. He tells of travels to Cashmere, the northern wastes, legendary wilderness sites, elven ruins, underground labyrinths, mountain peaks, and the boudoirs of every kingdom's most beautiful women. He claims he captained a mercenary troop, a privateer vessel in the western seas, a caravan, a palace honor guard, and (very briefly) a tribe of Pohas. He was away from Galladoorn for several years. Assuming the fastest steeds running the most efficient path across the kingdoms, and minimal tenure in such jobs as harem guard and circus acrobat, it is barely conceivable that Madmartigan really could have done most of what he claims. The problem is that he changes his facts with every retelling, casting doubt on the whole itinerary. During this time, Queen Bavmorda's conquests continued. When her armies massed at Nockmaar's border, the knights of Galladoorn prepared for war. And when her minions and their Death Dogs were spotted heading south, a herald in Castle Galladoorn's highest tower sounded the legendary Summoning Horn: a call for all knights and warriors to rally to its need. Knights across the countryside responded to the call - except Madmartigan. Airk watched from the battlements for days, hoping to see the great swordsman. But while others came from the farthest reaches of the kingdom, and from the wilderness beyond, and even from distant Cashmere, Airk never heard any speak of Madmartigan. He consulted the court wizard's scrying stone, but could find no trace of the man anywhere across the kingdoms. It looked hopeless. Yet Airk never gave up hope in anything. While the armies were forming for the defense of Galladoorn, he rode out to search for his old friend. He thought to find a lead, however old and cold, in one of Madmartigan's favorite taverns near the castle. Concealing his distaste, he entered the dive, approached the bartender... and there stood Madmartigan. "By the gods!" Airk cried. "I've scoured the land for you, and here you stand in the shadow of the castle's tower! Haven't you heard the Summoning Horn?" "I have," said Madmartigan. It was early, and he stood alone at the bar. He gripped his mug tightly, like the hand of a long-lost brother; many siblings stood empty on the countertop. "I've been trying to decide what to do," he said. "Decide! You swore an oath to defend Galladoorn! Where's the decision?" "I broke my oath." "Oh, so now you have a perfect excuse for cowardice, is that it?" Madmartigan shot him a look, but just took another swallow. "All right," Airk continued, "we both know you're not a coward. At least not with a sword in your hand. Well, I'm giving you a chance at the bravest deed any warrior could imagine: Go back to that castle and face your fellow knights." "They don't want me." "You're right. But they need you." Madmartigan made no reply. Discouraged, Airk headed for the entrance. At the doorway, between the darkened tavern and the bright sunshine, he turned. "Breaking your oath doesn't free you from it, Madmartigan. Only the fall of Castle Galladoorn can do that. If that's what you want, Bavmorda may oblige you." Airk left. At the castle he said nothing of the meeting. He was convinced he'd failed. Not until the legions were overtaken by a swaybacked nag driven at full gallop, and a warrior in a tarnished hauberk pulled even with Airk, did he realize that Madmartigan did not desire Bavmorda to oblige him. So they rode on. After many days they heard the pounding surf that marked the coast. They rode to Land's End, and disaster. LAND'S END The elves (or so legend claims) gave this name to a rocky, forbidding place by the Inland Sea. It is a narrow plain, bounded by a sheer drop to ocean breakers on one side and a sheer cliff rising high on the other. It narrows to a path hardly twenty feet wide at one point; there, a squad could hold off an army. That is what the outnumbered Galladoorn knights hoped. If they failed to stop the Nockmaar army here, Bavmorda's minions could sweep down onto the broad plains around Galladoorn, then lay siege to the castle. It would mean a terrible defeat. As everyone knows, this is what happened. But the conventional account places much of the blame on Madmartigan. Survivors say Madmartigan led a company of infantry on a roundabout path that, he claimed, would bring them behind the exposed Nockmaar army. But the plan went awry, the minions of Nockmaar discovered them, and the infantry was smashed by overwhelming force. Rather than stay to die with his troops, Madmartigan deserted in battle. The Nockmaar army followed his path, and circled to surround the knights of Galladoorn. Only Airk's capable leadership let any of his army escape alive. Of course, Madmartigan steadfastly denies deserting. But since there are no surviving witnesses, there is no evidence for his version of the story. Strangely, Madmartigan has never changed his account in the slightest, though he's told his story many times - far from his normal practice. Perhaps it may be that while Madmartigan excels as a liar, he completely fails to convince when he tells the truth. "The path stretched among some hilly terrain behind the cliff, through a steep gorge with a lot of outcroppings and loose rock. I was riding ahead of the soldiers through this gorge, looked up, and I swear I saw Jarenth, this minister in the court at Galladoorn. He was a shifty sort, and we never got along. "Jarenth was farther along the gorge, hiding behind a rock about two thirds of the way up one slope, the side toward Land's End and the sea. I thought I could see a Nockmaar soldier beside him. A Nockmaar helmet, anyway. So, thought I, a trap! "I told the infantry to wait while I scouted ahead. Jarenth hadn't seen us yet, so I dismounted and climbed up the slope. I thought I'd climb above, then jump down and surprise the two of them. "It almost worked. But then a rock slipped, I fell, and I slid down at them. Not quite the posture I wanted to adopt in my attack, you know? "Both Jarenth and the soldier drew their swords and lunged. I was still on my back, but I parried Jarenth and disarmed the soldier. They couldn't get any better footing than I had, and Jarenth fell, too. The soldier stayed on his feet; I made quick work of him, but he fell - you guessed it - right on top of me. "So there I was, flat on my back with a dead guy on me, and here was Jarenth back on his feet. He was no slouch with a sword, and I couldn't get any leverage. All I could do was cut him up a little. Then before I could push the soldier off, Jarenth, the little weasel, ran up the slope and over the ridge. "I charged up after him. But like I said, it was uneven terrain, with lots of outcroppings and weaving paths, and I lost him. "I should have gone back to the company down below. I know that, all right? I have nightmares about it. But Jarenth - well, I had a score to settle with Jarenth. I should have turned back, and warned my men to avoid the trap. But all I could think about was that weasel... I went on. "I heard a man scream ahead of me, a kind of strangled scream. I ran toward the sound, along a wide, twisting path among tall granite blocks. As I ran, I saw bones on ledges: animal bones, and human, too. And moss draped over the edges of the blocks - not growing there, placed like decorations. "The trail ended in a stone grotto about as big as a tavern room. Bones everywhere. Totally silent. And the smell, wheeew! At the other end of the grotto there was a big cavern in the rock face. Something was dragging a body inside the cave, pretty fast. "I only got a glance at the body. It might have been Jarenth, but it was so chopped up I couldn't tell. I never saw Jarenth after that, so it probably was him. "At that moment, that very moment, the wind changed. Do you know anyone else who has that kind of luck? Inside the cave I heard a sniff, then a growl like a really large Death Dog. I bolted. "I don't think I ever ran so fast, before or since. But still I could hear it behind me: two big feet slapping on the stone, and now and then that growl again. I lost track of the twists and turns. It seems like I ran for hours. Then I broke out from the granite blocks; before me was the cliff above Land's End. "I thought I'd lost the thing, so I stopped and looked. Straight down, a hundred feet below me, the Nockmaar army was attacking Airk and the other knights. I wanted to get down there and help defend, but there was no trail. If I climbed down, I would just be a target for arrow fire, and the battle would probably be over when I reached bottom. "So I jumped. "Hey, it was only a hundred feet. I figured I'd land on some Nockmaar troops, and they'd break my fall. Something like that, anyway. I'm sure I had a plan. Whatever people say about me, I wouldn't just leap without thinking. I'm not the kind of guy to do something that crazy. "Anyway, I jumped off the cliff. "That's when the cyclops grabbed me." THE CYCLOPS At this point nearly all listeners part company with Madmartigan's story. Cyclopes are rarely seen in modern times. Fishermen off the Land's End coast occasionally report seeing a cyclops in the area, but fishermen report seeing all kinds of things everywhere. Madmartigan claims his cyclops was about ten feet high, reddish-brown in hue, massive, and nearly hairless; walked in a stooped posture; and wore, of all things, a bearskin loincloth. Roughly human in shape, it had thick, bowed legs and grotesquely enlarged knuckles and its fingers had long claws. The truly outlandish aspect of Madmartigan's story is that he survived. Despite contradictory evidence on other points, all sources agree that a cyclops is a brutal opponent for an entire hunting party. A single fighter, even of Madmartigan's unquestioned supremacy, has no hope of victory. "This thing held me by the chest in both hands, the way I'd hold a ten-year-old boy. It had blood on its teeth, and breath like I can't even begin to describe. I aged about ten years and three months on the spot, and I almost dropped my sword. If I had, I wouldn't be here now. "It pulled me back from the cliff edge, then shifted me to one big, knobby hand, while it used the other to claw away my chainmail. Getting the peanut out of the shell, you might say. When I could get my sword arm free, I threw the sword at the only likely target: its near foot. "This was a pretty heavy sword, did I mention that? The blade drove right through its foot and into the ground. The cyclops let out a howl that must have killed most of the Nockmaar army below [survivors of Land's End do report hearing a loud bellow during the battle, generally attributed to a Nockmaar war horn] and it fell over. Landed like a brick treehouse. "It turned me loose. This time I didn't stop running until I was sure the thing wasn't following. I climbed a tree and saw a pool of its blood by the cliff, but it was gone. I went back to the pass. By then the Nockmaar army had broken through. The bodies of my infantry company were spread out over both slopes. "I got a terrible feeling in my stomach, and I ran down the path to the battle site. I arrived just in time to see the knights of Galladoorn retreating into the distance, with the Nockmaar cavalry pursuing at full gallop. "I never felt so alone in my life." AFTERMATH After Land's End, Madmartigan was spurned at Galladoorn. The knights expelled him from the order, in absentia. They were less angry than ashamed of him. Madmartigan learned of this before he returned to the castle. He changed course and headed for the wilderness, without horse or sword. He meant to live off the land. But Madmartigan grew hungry, because (as he tells it) Bavmorda's troops had not left much land to live off. It may be that past events left him more demoralized than he now admits, and he simply gave up caring for himself. Starved, unshaven, and smelly, he came to a small forest clearing along River Freen, near the crossroads. In the tree shadows stood a young woman with honey-blonde hair and a flowing gown of powder blue. She had eyes like the ocean: blue-green, deep - and wet, for she was crying. Madmartigan says, "I thought, 'Don't get involved. Just walk by.' But it was funny, my feet wouldn't hear this. Next thing I know I'm standing in front of her. So then I had to say something. And I swear, she just fell into my arms. 'Oh sir,' she said, 'I am lonely for a man's embrace. Is there no one who will show me the ways of love?' "Well, this didn't fool me for a minute, of course. I knew it was some kind of trap. But I decided to, you know, play along until I saw her game. Unfortunately, this led me into a vulnerable situation, and then about a dozen bandits leaped out of the woods. I fought like a panther, and after ten minutes I was driving them off. No, really. But then this lady hit me from behind, and they brought me down by sheer weight of numbers." After leading a company at Land's End, jumping off a cliff, and battling a supposed cyclops, Madmartigan must have been surprised that his nemesis turned out to be one troop of bandits. Not willing to risk outright murder, the thugs carried him to the scaffolding at the crossroads. There he would sit in a wooden "crow's cage" without food or water, until he met the fate of the fellow whose skeleton occupied the next cage. Two days later, the Nelwyns showed up. Through a monumental stroke of luck, they wanted to turn him loose and give him a baby. "I said that would be fine," he recalls. "I love kids. Of course, at that point I would have said I loved a sheep with anthrax, but I really do like kids. "The Peck didn't want to do it at first, but when he couldn't get anyone in Airk's army to take her - fat chance! - he had nobody else. I was a good choice, too. I would have made Elora a lovely father, or guardian, or whatever. If I hadn't set her down to answer a call of nature in the forest, that blasted brownie would never have gotten her. "I tried to stop that brownie and his silly eagle, really I did. You wouldn't believe the trouble I went to... well, anyway, he flew away with the baby, way too fast for me to follow. I tell you sincerely, I was heartbroken. But with any tragedy, you have to pick up the pieces and start over. "Later that day I found an inn. I didn't have any moeny, but I told this woman - she said she was the innkeeper - that I could work for room and board. And I know this will sound strange, but she just threw herself at me. I didn't encourage her. Don't think that. "Anyway, she dragged me to her room, and I met the Peck again, and then the woman's husband shows up. Husband! First I'd heard of him. As though I would knowingly flirt with a married woman. He became very irritated, and a lot happened after that. But somehow I ended up with the Peck and the baby, not to mention a couple of brownies. "By now everyone knows what came next. I went through so much with that bunch of characters, I kind of started to like them, and finally I understood how their mission was important. Then when we ran into Airk again, down in that village cellar, I guess I wanted to show the knights I could stick with a cause. That I wouldn't stab a friend in the back. "Sorsha? Well, I had what you'd call a grudge against princesses, based on my early experiences with Celia - I mean Carissima! But the Dust of Broken Heart helped me overcome that. Best thing that ever happened to me. I think I really couldn't live without her. After everything that's happened, I feel like I'm back on the right track." GAMING NOTES 20th skill-level fighter (or 3 levels above the best fighter in your campaign) SKILLS Madmartigan is the finest swordsman your players will meet. Treat any sword as magically accurate (+4 to hit) when he wields it. He is also a skilled archer and horseman. His other skills include climbing (as a thief of his level), acrobatics, stealth, fast-talk, seduction, and, when all of these fail, running. POSSESSIONS Sword (usually), armor (varies), occasionally a lucky charm or a gift from his latest female companion. THE CYCLOPS Armor Class: 3 Cyclopes are found in all latitudes, but prefer cooler climates. They are solitary and nomadic creatures. They live solely on raw meat and fish, in large amounts. Cyclopes are not intelligent and do not use magic. Besides claws and strength, they may sometimes use a club (one attack per turn, 5d6 damage, instead of clawing or crushing). |
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