Lordling Quest: Warfare and Mis-rule in Renaissance Not-Europe

[Cataphrak]

OUTLINE:
Genre: Nobleman Simulator
Cultural Setting: Central Europe, Holy Roman Empire Equivalent
Tech Level: 1550s, advanced plate armour, primitive firearms.
Rules: You all control a single nobleman in the Holy Empire. Post what you want him to do, I will pick the most popular option and make said nobleman do it. If there is a tie, I will pick the most In-Character option based on previous actions. Barring that, I will pick the most amusing option.
If you suggest combat or other high-risk situations, roll a D100 (using the forum's diceroller tag) for great success or epic failure.

Anyone can post whenever they want. Questions are welcome at any time.

Introduction:
Spring, Church Year 1185

The first pale gleamings of the Tronerburg dawn trickle through the open gallery as the two liveried attendants lead you through the bitter March cold. From where you walk you can see the immaculately maintained grounds of the Imperial University, where you have spent the past four of your seventeen years among the sons of the other noble houses of the Holy Empire. For most of those years, your studies have passed without great incident, certainly nothing that would require you to be roused in the dark of the early morning by a summons from the University Chancellor himself.

You are led to a large and imposing door. One of the attendants knocks and announces your presence. A moment later the door opens.

The Chancellor's face is grave, even more so than usual. On his desk sits an opened letter, bearing the wax seal of your family.

"I fear that your studies with us must now come to an end. The lord of your house has left this earthly realm, and you must return to take up your noble responsibilities."

You are puzzled for a moment. The news comes as no surprise to you, the old Freiherr, your grandfather, has been fighting a losing battle against gout and senility for years now. However, with his death, the title should by all accounts pass on to his heir, your father. You voice the cause of your confusion. The Chancellor shakes his head sadly.

"I am afraid you do not understand. During your grandfather's funeral, the new lord, your father, fell victim to the grippe. This letter tells me he died just a few days ago. As the new Freiherr, you are to be presented to His Imperial Majesty in" -he looks at the ornate clock standing behind you- "in a little over six hours. I offer you my condolences, and wish you luck in your endeavours beyond the walls of this institution... my lord."

What do?

[NauticalMongoose]

BEERFEST

[kultz]

There is only one way to properly mourn. Since I cannot possibly sleep now, I have less than six hours to drown my sorrows.

BEERFEST

[Psyentific]

Celebrate our lordlyship/mourn our father's death in an appropriate manner for one such as us.

Beerfest

[NauticalMongoose]

My work is done

[Cataphrak]

As you step out of the Chancellor's office in a daze, you resolve that there is only one way that a mature, grounded individual can possibly come to terms with such a life-changing event:

A Beerfest.

It is still early, and none of your friends are awake. Thus, you quickly return to your spartan cell in the dormitory to retrieve your coin pouch and put on your travelling clothes. Thus equipped, you head for the nearest tavern and drink yourself senseless.

---

You wake up in a gutter with the morning sun ramming hot pokers into your eyes. Your mouth tastes like bile, your coin-purse is gone and you find what appears to be a maidservant's bonnet half-lodged in your soiled trousers. Just then, your head is newly assaulted by the low *bong* of a church bell. You are coherent enough to pick out the hour.

You are now two hours late for your appointment with the most powerful man on the continent.

What do?

[kultz]

There is only one way to do this.
First, add some bruises and cuts to yourself.
Secondly, heroically barge into the scene exclaiming that you have defeated the assassins, and that "I will not be easily offed like my forefathers."

[greencloak]

The most powerful man on the continent must be treated with dignity and respect, and this includes honesty. Time to man up and tell the truth, and hopefully receive a modicum of recognition for your initiative.

To add bruises to oneself, the best thing to do would be to go back into the bar and whack the largest man possible over the head with a bar stool.
Following the fracas, drag your bloodied frame back to the manor with the aforementioned exclamations, adding, "I thought I was done for when they released their assassination jaguars, but the future Lord of my House will not fall so easily!"

[Cataphrak]

You stumble back to the tavern and quickly challenge a hard-bitten giant of a man wearing the slashed doublet and leather jack of a landsknecht to a fight. More specifically, you challenge him to a game of land-the-barstool-on-the-stupid-lordling, which he wins handily. He sends you sprawling to the tavern floor and reaches for the vicious-looking two-handed sword strapped to his back.

"I've a mind to do the whole world a favour, and split you cock to casque, you little shitstain."

You are now two and a half hours late for your appointment with the Emperor.

What do?

[greencloak]

If a fight is unavoidable, then bravely run away until pursuit has faded. Regardless of the possibility of a fight, your first goal is to beat yourself black and blue, and go see the lord with all of the lies planned from before.

[Cataphrak]

You already possess several impressive bruises and a prominent cut over your left eye, thanks to the sellsword's own barstool-based combat skills.

[greencloak]

Then you will rip your clothes in several locations and prominently limp into the room where the Lord is with your stories of attempted assassination, involving a high-speed cart chase, duelling with jousting lances on the rooftops of the palace, and the killing of assassination jaguars with assorted kitchen utensils and liberal amounts of controlled fire.   

[Cataphrak]

Lord? No, no, no, EMPEROR. There is a hierarchy in place in the Holy Empire. A lord to the Emperor is as a gnat is to a god.

[greencloak]

EMPEROR, then. You will regale him with tales of your assassination survivals, and see if he buys it.

[kultz]

Don't forget to pass out. That's important.

[Gaming]

Summer 2013:

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