Friday Encounter: The Sonderlunding Swordsman

So it turns out that talking about anime gets a lot of eyes on my blog. Whoever posted my last article to the OSR subreddit, I have no idea who you are, but thank you - I really am happy to have the readership I do, but I can never complain about anything that means my work reaches more DMs out there who might benefit from it. With more attention on the blog, I figure now is as good a time as any to kick off a feature I've been considering for a while.

I've always been a fan of quick, characterful encounters to liven up a session - incidents that might not necessarily be an epic battle or the spark of a quest, but that help make the game world a living, breathing place and provide the PCs with resources, information, and material to make interesting decisions about. If they can be approached in multiple different ways, so much more the better. These encounters might not necessarily be the crux of an entire session, but they can be memorable, and they can open the doors to new options for the players or even expand into adventures of their own.

I've seen a couple of blogs now that present encounters as a regular feature, and I figured I might as well shamelessly rip off the format. My aim is that every week, I'll present a short encounter on the blog, one that can be slotted into most campaigns. Feel free to use these as you wish. For the most part, I'll be writing under the assumptions of my setting - don't be afraid to change names, details, and descriptions to better suit your table.

The Sonderlunding Swordsman

Background

This encounter should take place when the PCs are on a modestly well-traveled road. As they come to a bridge high above a river, they find the path blocked by a sturdy, long-bearded man dressed in furs and tartans, leaning against a wicked-looking claymore.

The man introduces himself as Fergus MacConnell, a warrior of Sonderlund - or at least, he was. The Sonderlunding Highlanders are known for their fierce honor culture, and by the standards of his culture, Fergus has committed a grave crime - in a drunken brawl that got out of hand, he slew another man of a family his was honor-bound to protect ever since their ancestors made a pact on the battlefield generations ago. The Sonderlundings take ancestral pacts and oaths very seriously, and as an oathbreaker, Fergus was exiled from his homelands. Now, he seeks the only redemption that his lot deserves - a glorious death in battle against a well-matched foe.

The problem is, Fergus is very lucky by most standards, but very unlucky by his own. He's come a long way from home in search of greater challenges, and every enemy he's faced since has been no match for his blade. His journeys have brought him to this particular bridge, where, according to the customs of pas d'armes, he has the right to challenge any other travelers to a duel. Perhaps one he encounters along the road will grant him the warrior's end he seeks.

A note: To run home the point of Fergus's plight, it will be most effective if he is encountered where such sights are not commonplace - he's had to go a long way, after all, and his appearance should be unusual for the area. I would not run this encounter in Sonderlund, for instance. If you had a culture of honorable warriors in your setting, you can reflavor this encounter to fit them, but it's best to use it in an area far from the homelands of this culture.

The Encounter

If there is anyone in the party who looks to be a capable warrior and is not obviously hurt or harried, Fergus will challenge them to a duel to the death. He wants this to be a fair fight - if his would-be opponent is clad in anything heavier than chainmail or obviously displays magical powers, he will let them pass unharried (there would be no honor in losing to a foe one never stood a chance against in the first place!), and he insists on one-on-one combat; however, he could be talked into taking on the whole party if there is no one particular opponent who looks to be a clear threat. If the party obviously contains a necromancer (a practice highly taboo among the ancestor-worshiping Highlanders), Fergus will refuse to even entertain the offer of a duel, considering the entire party tainted by their presence.

If Fergus's chosen opponent refuses, he will taunt them about their honor, insisting that they are too cowardly to face such a foe as he, and boasting of his own accomplishments all the while (he struck down three brigands at once! He fell a mad lindwurm!). He will take great offense if his deeds are called into question, and may even start the fight himself if the PCs continue to antagonize him. But if his opponents truly refuse the duel after all his prompting, he will let them go on their way. He wants this to be an honorable fight, after all.

However, if Fergus learns of the location of an even worthier opponent than the PCs - for instance, if they know where he can find an NPC who might be agreeable to the challenge (at least in theory), or if they are seeking a fierce monster, Fergus will accompany the party as long as it takes them to reach such a foe. He will join them in any combats, but if the desired threat is encountered, he will insist on facing it one-on-one until one of them die.

In 5e terms, Fergus uses the stats of a Berserker. However, he has discovered two magical treasures on his journeys:

• His sword is enchanted. It functions as a +1 greatsword (so his attacks are made with a +6 to hit and do 1d12+4 slashing damage), and its blade is inlaid with a runic inscription. A DC 13 History or Arcana check, or a PC with knowledge of classical arcane languages, can determine that the inscription reads "I call on thee, Unquenchable Torch."
• Once per day, if recited aloud, this inscription causes the blade to glow for 1d4 hours, providing all the benefits of a Light spell. The glow will not end by any means other than the duration expiring. If it attracts undue attention, the PCs cannot do anything more than try to keep the light covered.
• Fergus obtained this sword from a giant who failed to match his challenge before, and is familiar with its properties.
• Fergus wears a golden brooch pinned to his cloak in the shape of a bird in flight, with emeralds set into its eyes. It is worth 300 GP, but unbeknownst to Fergus, it too is inlaid with a runic inscription. The inscription is engraved in miniscule text (a DC 20 Perception or Investigation check, or the use of a magnifying glass, is needed to discover its presence), and a DC 13 History or Arcana check, or a PC with knowledge of Elvish, can determine that the inscription reads "I need your eyes to see for me."
• The brooch requires attunement. Once every two days, if recited aloud, this inscription causes the brooch to turn into a living finch that obeys the attuned user's commands, can communicate with them telepathically, and can be used to see and hear through as a familiar summoned by the Find Familiar spell. At will, it can be returned to the form of the brooch. The finch otherwise has the stats of a Raven. If it is killed, it turns back into the brooch, but the emeralds in its eyes have turned black and it can no longer be summoned.
• Fergus was given the brooch as a gift from an elven maiden he saved from a wild beast. He does not know its properties and believes it to be no different than an ordinary brooch.

Fergus will insist on fighting the duel on the bridge. The bridge is ten feet across and sixty feet from end to end, and is 120 feet above the river below. The bridge has the Ledge tag (see here; creatures performing a Shove action that would knock a creature off a ledge gain +2 to their attack roll. Fergus won't use this tactic, as he considers it dishonorable).

At the far end of the bridge, Fergus has set a small campsite with a tent and a fire pit to allow protection from the elements. His tent contains a simple bedroll, his personal belongings, and 35 GP.

And Now For Something Completely Different: Why Madoka Magica is OSR

I swear I haven't lost my mind! Come back!

I don't just post about learned and erudite things like history and medieval folklore on this blog, you know. Yes, I watch anime. Call me cringe all you want, but let's not deny that at the end of the day, the world of RPGs owes just as much to pop culture as it does to "serious" literary tradition. Anything can be a font of inspiration to make our games, and our lives, a little richer. And today, I'd like to explore one such example.

Besides, if you were really paying attention, you'd know I already dropped a few in-jokes to the subject of today's post back in one of my first posts on this blog. Purely because it referenced the same Germanic traditions I did. That's just what I do. Like some sort of enigmatic trickster god, my players never know if I'm referencing some obscure 13th century epic poem or some internet meme. You might not know either.

Anyway, today I'm going to talk about the anime series Puella Magi Madoka Magica. What makes the series notable for me is that it was the first anime - really, one of the first TV series in general - that I actively followed as it was being released (as it was being released in Japan, no less). It debuted in early 2011, while I was in high school, and I happened to become aware of it when it was freshly three episodes in (if you were there, you know). I proceeded to follow new episodes as they released week to week, and that was a kind of experience I had never really had before. Or, really, since, given the changing landscape of streaming and whole series dropping at once.

Rewatching it a few years back, I don't think Madoka Magica is a perfect series. I wouldn't even call it a great series. It settles for being merely good, but not without its flaws, and they only grow more apparent with age. The pace vacillates between being agonizingly slow and breakneck fast, but rarely settles on a comfortable middle ground. So many characters are frustratingly underdeveloped, and I've come to see the effective protagonist - one of the few who isn't - as the kind of person I would probably punch in the face if we were locked in a room together for long enough. The Watsonian lore and the Doylist themes of the show both raise all kinds of fascinating ideas and implications that feel like something could be done with them, but they never are. The individualist philosophy the series takes on the question of self-sacrifice never sat well with my utilitarian socialist self, and in light of the sequel movie (which split the fanbase in two - I'm solidly on the "it sucked" side of that rift), there's an unpleasant undertone of Objectivism that I can't help but pick up on whether intentional or otherwise. But there's something that makes the series hold a place in my heart.

And I suspect that something may just be how the setting seems to resonate so well with the ideas of a tabletop RPG - particularly one of the Old School ethos.

In the rest of this post, I'm going to give a rundown of Madoka Magica lore with a focus as to what aspects of it are gameable, and summarize how they abide by OSR principles. If you're already familiar with the series, you can probably skip this next part (though I recommend you at least give it a look because there's some things that never actually happen in the series but are totally missed opportunities, and you may not even know about them). If you aren't, please be aware that this discussion will contain spoilers if that matters at all to you - but for what it's worth, I wouldn't have gotten into the series at all if I didn't have it spoiled for me back then.

More under the cut.