Badass Dragoons of the Highlands - Turn 4 results

As the 17th century comes to a close, so much else has happened that even those of the Immortal persuasion have a hard time keeping up. Shakespeare’s plays continue to be performed at the Globe until it dies in a blaze of glory, and shortly thereafter the Bard himself shuffles off this mortal coil. Mount Vesuvius erupts again and again, bringing painful memories back to the older Immortals. Louis XIV consolidates royal power in France to an unprecedented degree. The Calculus is discovered not once but twice, Newton formulates the great Laws of Motion, Galileo is put to trial, Descartes sets the philosophical groundwork for centuries to come. Who can possibly keep up with all this transformation?

Yet a handful of entities have seen it all before and will see it come and go again. At least the ones that manage to survive.


Bag of Hammers travels to Bejing and fights for the Ming Dynasty
T.D Himself travels to Bejing and fights for the Ming Dynasty

“Bon” McEvoy travels to London and witnesses the Annus Mirabilis
Groß Wilhelm travels to London and witnesses the Annus Mirabilis
Aeaba Taylor travels to London and witnesses the Annus Mirabilis
Jane travels to London and witnesses the Annus Mirabilis
Mom travels to London and witnesses the Annus Mirabilis
Harry Farnsworth travels to London and witnesses the Annus Mirabilis

Ennis travels to Japan and becomes a student of Bashō
“Hep” Burn travels to Japan and becomes a student of Bashō
Other Pendragon travels to Japan and becomes a student of Bashō

Zero Demos travels to North America and fights alongside the Iroquois
Bark McBarkruff travels to North America and fights alongside the Susquehannock
Evelyn Wolff travels to North America and fights alongside the Huron
NESSIE travels to North America and fights alongside the Iroquois

Quick Links: Table of Contents


The Fall of Beijing

The Ming dynasty finally crumbles in the wake of this moment of transformation. Among the chaos, two Immortals find each other and battle mightily together.

@DreamboatSkanky v. @guest_account_7

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 Hit! ( 90) 30 Rck v. Cau 70 (  5) miss [T.D. is Unphased]
 Hit! ( 72) 50 Def v. Def 50 ( 59) Hit!
 miss ( 43) 50 Cau v. Cau 50 ( 83) Hit!
 Hit! ( 53) 50 Def v. Def 50 ( 38) miss
 Hit! ( 41) 40 Agg v. Cau 60 ( 28) miss
 Hit! ( 61) 50 Def v. Def 50 ( 69) Hit!
 miss ( 50) 60 Nor v. Cau 40 ( 25) miss
 miss ( 11) 50 Def v. Def 50 ( 71) Hit!
Bag of Hammers (1/5) v. (1/5) T.D. Himself

The Great Fire of London

Stories of the Great Fire are inherently unreliable. Amid the flames and screams, it is said that neighbor set upon neighbor with terrible strength.

@eve v. @MalevolentPixy

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 miss ( 27) 70 Cau v. Rck 30 (00+) CRIT
 Hit! ( 62) 30 Nor v. Agg 70 (00+) CRIT
 Hit! ( 45) 40 Agg v. Cau 60 ( 19) miss
 miss ( 14) 50 Cau v. Cau 50 ( 66) Hit!
 ---- ( --) 70 Rck v. Agg 30 ( nn) ----
 ---- ( --) 50 Cau v. Cau 50 ( nn) ----
 ---- ( --) 40 Nor v. Rck 60 ( nn) ----
 ---- ( --) 40 Def v. Agg 60 ( nn) ----
Aeaba Taylor (0/5) v. (3/5) Jane

Jane (@MalevolentPixy) experiences a Quickening!

The Great Conflagration swept through the city so quickly that many were trapped in the flames, unable to escape their fates.

@durhamindurham v. @old

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 Hit! ( 73) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 47) Hit!
 CRIT (00+) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 85) Hit!
 Hit! ( 73) 40 Nor v. Rck 60 ( 86) Hit!
 miss (  9) 30 Nor v. Agg 70 ( 90) Hit!
 ---- ( --) 50 Nor v. Nor 50 (00+) CRIT
 ---- ( --) 60 Nor v. Cau 40 ( --) ----
 ---- ( --) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( --) ----
 ---- ( --) 40 Nor v. Rck 60 ( --) ----

Groß Wilhelm (0/6) v. (1/5) Mom

Mom (@old) experiences a Quickening!

The plague the year before, the flames now, what will become of old London?

@donald_petersen v. @Wisconsin_Platt

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 miss ( 16) 50 Cau v. Cau 50 ( 74) Hit!
 CRIT (00+) 60 Agg v. Def 40 ( 21) miss
 Hit! ( 80) 60 Nor v. Cau 40 ( 42) Hit!
 miss ( 22) 70 Cau v. Rck 30 ( 56) Hit!
 CRIT (00+) 30 Agg v. Rck 70 ( 92) Hit!
 ---- ( --) 70 Def v. Cau 30 ( --) ----
 ---- ( --) 40 Agg v. Cau 60 ( --) ----
 ---- ( --) 40 Rck v. Def 60 ( --) ----
"Bon" McEvoy (1/5) v. (0/5) Harry Farnsworth

“Bon” McEvoy (@Donald_Petersen) experiences a Quickening!


Studying Haiku under Bashō

Centuries ago
Two students cross paths, cross blades
A persimmon falls

@teknocholer v. @miasm

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 miss ( 18) 40 Nor v. Rck 60 ( 17) miss
 Hit! ( 39) 30 Nor v. Agg 70 (  3) miss
 miss ( 22) 40 Agg v. Cau 60 ( 17) miss
 CRIT (00+) 30 Cau v. Def 70 ( 18) miss
 Hit! ( 55) 50 Cau v. Cau 50 ( 83) Hit!
 miss ( 12) 40 Nor v. Rck 60 ( 65) Hit!
 Hit! ( 79) 60 Cau v. Agg 40 ( --) ----
 ---- ( --) 30 Agg v. Rck 70 ( --) ----
Other Pendragon (3/5) v. (0/5) "Hep" Burn

Other Pendragon (@teknocholer) experiences a Quickening!

Witness L’Andromeda at the Teatro San Cassiano in Venice

As the battlefields give way to firearms, swordfights become far too conspicuous. And yet the Immortals continue to encounter each other as they sample the new delights that each new age brings.

@David_Falkayn v. @tobinl

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 CRIT (00+) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 82) Hit!  [Mr. Collins is Unphased]
 miss ( 49) 60 Cau v. Agg 40 ( 97) Hit!
 Hit! ( 80) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 37) Hit!
 miss ( 55) 60 Cau v. Agg 40 ( 51) Hit!
 miss ( 40) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 66) Hit!
 CRIT (00+) 60 Cau v. Agg 40 ( --) ----
 ---- ( nn) 30 Cau v. Def 70 ( --) ----
 ---- ( nn) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( --) ----
Mr. Collins  (1/5) v. (0/5) Halmar

Mr. Collins (@David_Falkayn) experiences a Quickening!

Ennis (@gwwar) is so moved by the opera that she realizes too late that a battle has been joined in the night.


The Iroquois Wars

The desperate, bloody battles to secure access to a rapidly dwindling population of furred mammals stands as a testimony to the shortsightedness of living in mortal bodies.

@Nightflyer v. @ghoti

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 Hit! ( 96) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 93) Hit!
 miss ( 28) 40 Def v. Agg 60 ( 14) miss
 Hit! ( 43) 30 Agg v. Rck 70 ( 75) Hit!
 miss ( 12) 50 Nor v. Nor 50 ( 92) Hit!
 Hit! ( 54) 30 Rck v. Cau 70 ( 10) miss
 miss ( 22) 60 Cau v. Agg 40 ( 51) Hit!
 Hit! ( 73) 30 Agg v. Rck 70 ( 27) miss
 CRIT (00+) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( --) ----
Evelyn Wolff  (1/5) v. (0/5) Bark McBarkruff

Evelyn Wolff (@Nightflyer) experiences a Quickening!

And even so, the bloody battles between Immortal bodies speaks to a different sort of sightedness. The Prize beckons each of them so powerfully that they would risk their own Immortal existence to gain it.

@penguinchris v. @daneel

      rolls tgt          tgt rolls
 miss ( 31) 50 Cau v. Cau 50 ( 96) Hit!
 miss ( 23) 30 Agg v. Rck 70 ( 19) miss
 miss ( 21) 30 Nor v. Agg 70 ( 28) miss
 miss ( 13) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 97) Hit!
 miss ( 59) 70 Nor v. Def 30 ( 95) Hit!
 CRIT (00+) 60 Nor v. Cau 40 ( 39) miss
 Hit! ( 94) 50 Nor v. Nor 50 ( 84) Hit!  [Zero is Unphased]
 ---- ( --) 50 Nor v. Nor 50 ( 98) Hit!
NESSIE  (0/5) v. (4/6) Zero Demos

Zero Demos (@daneel) experiences a Quickening!


Well met, @DreamboatSkanky.

In the century that followed, many mortals got us mixed up in their retellings of that duet.

It was you who danced so elegantly, so light. It was you who had the moves that later got attributed to me.

You had them moves of a hammer bagger.

Got them ooh oo OO oo ooh moves like bagger.


An evergreen reminder:

An additional seven Immortals met their fate this turn should describe their final moments for posterity. Non-fatal pairings should feel free to recount what on earth happened that allowed the two of you to keep your heads.


well so it goes…

and it was such a nice opera.


Bark ruuuuffffrufff woofarf bark

RUFF! Wooff arrrrufffarfarf YIP YIP YIP YIP!!!

… grrraaaaaghhhh…

… gack…


I knelt beside the still, white body, tears in my eyes. When I journeyed to the New World, I knew I was only delaying the next duel, the next death. I knew another Immortal would find me eventually, and the only way to survive would be to kill. “But why did it have to be you?” I don’t think we’d ever spoken, but I’d admired the plucky little Westie, and I’d never wanted–

----- the lightning took me -----

~the sensation of warm sun on fur~
~running joyfully through the sweetly scented grass, soft under four paws~
~the pleasure of being scratched behind a pointed ear~
~scenting the world, the breeze carrying unseen dimensions of information of the surroundings~
~the rich taste of a fine steak~
~curling up to sleep in a cozy, contented ball~

-----images, thoughts, sensations flooding me, nearly overwhelming me, a life in all its trials and glory, the last expression of a soul, now lost forever-----

~and as the last sparks of the Quickening flickered and faded, she crumpled to the ground, sobbing her heart out, gasping apologies and begging forgiveness from one who could no longer hear.~


[excerpt from The Diaries of Other Pendragon © 2017 by TrilloCom LLC]

I was reluctant to leave Europe at a time of such intellectual ferment, and even considered accepting the the Royal Society’s invitation to join them, but the constant warfare and upheavals dismayed me, and poetry, not science was becoming my main interest. I had heard that in the far-off islands of Japan they had created poetic forms more subtle than the sonnet or even the sestina, so I took ship with the Dutch trading fleet and journeyed thither, where I presented myself to the Shogun and asked to be permitted to study under Master Bashō.

The Shogun was gracious, and even introduced me to Hitomi, a young lady of the court who would be my interpreter. As a girl she had shown a talent for languages, and had been sent away to study. She had recently returned with two of her friends from a ladies’ seminary and was eager to travel, for at seventeen she found Edo excessively formal and boring. I have no doubt she was ordered to keep track of me and report back to Edo, but that mattered not to me, as I was no more than I claimed to be. We journeyed into the mountains, where I implored Master Bashō to take me on as a student.

For the first five years I was assigned to sweep the floor of his study and empty his waste basket, which often contained poems such as I would have given an arm to have written, if it were not my sword arm.

Hitomi proved invaluable, working on my grammar and vocabulary with great patience. In the afternoons she would make tea in the courtyard, a leisurely and subtle art involving many exquisitely graceful gestures. (Her skill at this was such that once, when a terrible thunderstorm approached, she completed the task in less than two hours.)

Another autumn
Dreams of sushi. Rice again
More please, Bashō-san

For the next five years my task was to rake the gravel in front of the master’s porch, creating pleasing curves like the ripples on a pond, although which ones may have pleased him he did not vouchsafe.

In our free moments, Hitomi and I would wander the mountain paths, enjoying the beauty of nature. We had much merriment over the differences in our languages and cultures. I remember one time, as we sat beside a little stream, she smiled up at me coquettishly and said, “Tell me, Othuru-san, have you a katana or a wakizashi?”
“Neither,” I replied. “I have a seax, which is not so long, but which has always sufficed.”
“Ooh,” she said, wide-eyed, “May I hold your seax?”
“Nay,” I said, "It is for my hand alone."
She giggled, and then stared pensively at the stream for a long time.

Countless little stones
Young blossom, is tea made yet?
Grey grey grey grey grey

When five years were ended, Bashō-sama said my job henceforth was to clean his brushes. “It’s a good thing I’m immortal”, I muttered sotto voce, and he struck me with a bamboo flute, at which I experienced a moment of kenshō.

Then one day Hitomi, who had been out harvesting daikon and cucumbers, of which she was extremely fond, came rushing up the path. “Othuru-san,” she cried, “a barbarian with copper hair approaches, wearing a skirt!”

“No time to lose, Hitomi-san,” I said, “make the tea.” To my sensei, who was sitting in the lotus position on his porch, I said, “Bashō-sama, an enemy approaches. What do you advise?”

He raised his eyes to the mountain in the distance and chewed contemplatively on his brush. The fingers of his left hand twitched as he counted the syllables of his first line. I had often seen him thus, sometimes for days, and I could not wait for his reply. I grabbed my sword and strode down the path to face my wyrd.

As I had expected, it was the ill-mannered little Scot I had encountered in Avignon so many years ago. He addressed me in his crude patois. “What’er ye lookin’ at, ye great jobbie?” he began, “Awa’ n bile yer head. D’ye think a hackit scrote like you wiz meant to defeat me?”

With a wild yell he pulled out his strange flail-like sword, sprang at me, and the battle commenced. His four blades wove elaborate patterns in the air, and in seconds we were both bleeding from dozens of cuts. I drew my sword.

Parrying four blades at once is an art I had learned in my youth, but it is tiring, and I wondered if my endurance was enough to withstand him. But you can’t live the life I have led without learning a few tricks about fighting Scotsmen. As he began a particularly intricate reverse-figure-seven move, I shouted “Look out behind you!” As he turned he lost control of his weapon and two of the whip-like blades wrapped around his neck. In an instant I had stepped forward and seized the hilt of his sword. A quick tug and snick, his head came off.

His last words were, “Aw, shite.”

At once, a powerful feeling overwhelmed me, as if my veins had been filled with the strong spirit they brew in the Highlands and I had been head-butted by an ox. A great rage came over me, but also a deep feeling of empathy. “He was a scabby wee bampot,” I thought, “but no sae bad over all, and good for a laugh doon the pub. Oh, so that’s what bawbag means.”

I buried him under the willow tree by the river, where the tom-tits sing. I thought he would appreciate that.


It was my first time in the new world, and I had allied myself with the Iroquois under the half-Dutch Mohawk, Canaqueese.

We spent a long time engaged in minor skirmishes with the Huron and Susquehannock, nothing proving decisive, until I was able to convince the authorities to allow me to sell guns to the Iroquois. Once properly armed, we were able to launch a proper attack on the Huron. I, personally took the opportunity to rid this land of some of those insufferable Jesuit missionaries. They were annoying back in Europe, no reason why people over here should have to put up with them too.

Fighting in these woods was difficult and brought new challenges - however, I was not prepared to be confronted by a monster out of legend, a giant serpent I assumed to be of the same ilk as the mythical Charybdis I remembered tales of from Ancient Greece. When I had studied the maps on the journey over, I had noted that they had said “here be dragons”, but I had assumed those were metaphorical. I was mistaken.

Again, my memories of the battle are hazy. I do, now, however, have a fondness for fish that was not previously present. And I have some strangely twee music stuck in my head now.


By the way, these Yunnan mushrooms are delightful. Such wonderous colours!

I’m bringing some to my next partay.


All the way from Ming china to the Massachusetts Bay Colony, just to mess with the minds of socially repressed young women?

You devil, you!


You advocate repression
to those who fight supression

You preach salvation
to those who seek liberation.

Dear Mister Coll1ns,
Liberate yourself from such pride,
and such prejudice.

Free your mind,
and the rest will follow.


Mostly that was tripping, I must admit. Tell you what, a rubber pommel comes in rather handy, when you’re flailing around like that. I feel I owe you an apology for that first flurry of blows: I could have sworn your headdress was this jellyfish been stalking me since, i dunno, way back, it seems.

Anyhow, let’s dance again sometime. I’d love to show you my etchings.


The slaughter continues – some by own hand.
I await Halmar/ ElHar Aziz 's @TobinL description of our night at the Opera. I suspect it was the aria in the third act that was the coup de grace.

But never mind that for now; a librarian’s work is never done.

The stance preferences in this round changed remarkably – as the stakes go up, the survivors are getting more conservative.

Round 4 stances:

14%  Reckless
20%  Aggressive
29%  Normal
29%  Cautious
23%  Defensive

The best counter-stances would have been aggressive (vs Normal) and Defensive ( vs Cautious)

The average stances for the eleven surviving Immortals have been pretty even.

20%  Reckless
23%  Aggressive
17%  Normal
22%  Cautious
17%  Defensive

Yours in Truth,

Mr. Collins


Ennis was quite taken by the opera. The spectacle and costumes all quite reminded her of colorful songbirds that performed for just the right well camouflaged partners. She liked songbirds quite a lot.


Of course, the real finale was the indoor lightning. A sign of a true contest won.

Ennis liked the opera so much didn’t mind missing out on proving her worth to the old gods. However, now Juan won’t stop singing in her head off-key.


Nessie briefly returned to Scotland, only to find that it scarcely felt like home anymore. Her worldly travels opened her mind, and made puttering around a lake less exciting than it once was. Although, she thought, was it really ever?

She hitched a ride with some ships sailing for the New World, which sounded exciting and, well, new.

Making her way up the Hudson, she heard talk along the way of the skirmishes taking place among the native peoples. It took some portaging, but she eventually made it to the St. Lawrence. This great river reminded her in some ways of her home Loch. She made her way upstream, eventually passing through rather a great lake, and was intrigued by the quite fast current of the river at the southwest end of the lake. She fought her way up, the walls of the gorge suddenly, dramatically high, through a whirlpool, only to be confronted by an enormous waterfall. Another portage would be required.

She rode the current down, and found a clear path onto land. As she made her way up the escarpment, she terrified some local Iroquois, but eventually fell in with them. She was intrigued by their relatively primitive lifestyle - after her European backpacking trip she had this strange desire to chuck it all and live in the wilderness for a while.

Nessie joined the fighting, and was doing quite well despite the dense foliage, when the unmistakable stench of an Immortal filled her nose. She fumbled around and got caught up in the trees as she tried to fight. She always knew her long neck was a liability, but had always held her own, even in the narrow streets of Europe.

Rather a sad and bitter end for such a majestic creature to get caught up in trees and be unable to defend her neck in this narrator’s home region, which he strived to escape his whole life.


It’s not off-key, it’s differently tuneful.

And didn’t I tell you that was better than killing people?