by Chris Williams Let me tell you a story - a true story, a story of high adventure in a time when men sailed the seas in search of plunder and freedom, when all a man needed to survive was a quick wit, a quicker blade, and a little luck. In 1666, a small band of pirates was roving the coast of Cuba in search of prey. Their captain was one Bartholomew Portugues. Lightly armed, with only four cannon and 30 men, he and his crew attacked a rich Spanish ship several times their size. After a fierce battle, Portugues and his crew captured the ship. Upon inspecting their prize, they found that it carried over 70,000 pieces of eight in addition to a fine cargo of trade goods. Several days later, however, the victorious pirates blundered into three Spanish men-of-war and were themselves captured. Bartholomew and his remaining crew were taken to a nearby Spanish port, where they were to be hanged for their crimes. Fearing that Portugues might escape, as he had done on a previous occasion, the Spaniards held him prisoner on the ship that he had so recently captured. Not wishing to meet his end in the hangman's noose, Bartholomew devised a plan to escape. Unable to swim, he fashioned floats from two empty wine jugs and, after killing his guard, slipped overboard to float to shore. For the next two weeks he evaded search parties and ate only raw shellfish while marching through the jungles of Cuba. Using nails salvaged from wreckage on the beach, Bartholomew was able to make first a crude axe, then a small raft. On this raft he sailed to a safe port and found haven with other pirates to whom he was known. After relating his tale to his new comrades, he asked for a small ship and 20 men with which he might exact his vengeance on his former captors. His new friends agreed. So, with a new ship and a crew of 20, Portugues returned to the port from which he had just escaped. By cleverly making the Spanish believe that he was bringing them supplies for their ship, he and his crew were able to approach their target. By the time the Spaniards realized their mistake, it was too late. Bartholomew had retaken his original prize, the ship on which he had been held prisoner awaiting execution, right out from under the Spaniards' noses! Although the gold had been removed from the ship, most of the trade goods were still in the hold. Here Fate turned her back on Bartholomew for the last time. While returning to port with his prize ship, for which he had fought so hard and suffered so much, a sudden storm came up and dashed the ship against the rocks. The fate of Bartholomew remains a mystery. Some say he went down with his ship, while others claim that he survived and continued his life of piracy. If he did, however, he never again achieved so great a victory as before. So ends the story of Bartholomew Portugues. But that story, and others like it, are at the heart of what is commonly thought of as swashbuckling adventure. Throughout the ages people have been drawn to tales of such deeds, both noble and villainous, carried out for treasure, honor, duty, justice, vengeance, and love. Names such as Sir Henry Morgan, Robin Hood, D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers, Don Juan, Zorro, and Cyrano de Bergerac all evoke powerful images of dashing heroes and the ring of steel against steel. It is only natural that gamers should want to play in adventures like theirs. Pirates and piracy are the first things that spring to mind when most people think of swashbuckling: adventure on the high seas, desperate men with daggers clenched in their teeth, swinging through their ship's rigging to board the enemy's vessel. While this certainly fits the swashbuckling mold, it is by no means the only style of adventure that can be called swashbuckling, though all swashbuckling campaigns share a certain style. This article outlines the key elements common to various types of high adventure and lists reference material relevant to running a swashbuckling campaign. Swordplay Basics First of all, what is a swashbuckler? The word "swashbuckler" comes from a time in Europe when dueling with rapiers was quite common. At that time, men carried a type of small shield known as a buckler. Elizabethan street toughs looking to prove their prowess with the blade would walk up and down the boulevards and bang their rapiers against their bucklers, challenging all comers. This practice was known as "swashing the buckler," which became swash- buckler. Furthermore, the dictionary defines a swashbuckler as "a swaggering or daring soldier or adventurer." Swashbuckling adventurers, therefore, are primarily men (or women) of action, warriors by trade. This is important because the main underlying theme to virtually all swashbuckling stories is that, through force of arms, a small group can overcome the plans of powerful people. In Alexander Dumas' story _The Three Musketeers,_ Cardinal Richelieu is seeking to gain more power in the French government by exposing the Queen's affair with the Duke of Buckingham. His plot is foiled by the four swordsmen. In _The Prisoner of Zenda_ by Anthony Hope, Duke Michael of Stresslau's attempt to replace his brother on the throne of Ruritania is foiled by Rudolph Rassendyl and a small force of men. And, historically speaking, Bartholomew Portugues had only 20 followers with him when he sailed back and recaptured his prize ship. Action is what drives a swashbuckling story. Where politics, intrigue, and negotiations fail, martial force will carry the day. If action is what drives the story, what motivates the main characters to it in the first place? As mentioned above, the motivations for a swashbuckler are treasure, duty, honor, justice, vengeance, and love. Bartholomew Portugues was driven by his desire for both treasure and vengeance; Zorro and Robin Hood were spurred on by a desire to see justice done; D'Artagnan and the Musketeers acted out of their sense of duty to the Queen of France; and Cyrano was driven by his feelings for the lovely Roxane. Characters in a swashbuckling campaign should be given such motivations. While there certainly may be more than one main character involved, as in _The Three Musketeers,_ the story actually revolves around only one of those characters. The other characters go along with the one for the sake of their friendship, because they feel honor bound, to repay a debt, etc. This is the idea of "All for One and One for All." For each adventure in a swashbuckling campaign, the referee should select one of the PCs as his protagonist/patsy and tailor events to motivate that one character to action. For example, the PC's girlfriend could be kidnapped, or he could be singled out by the king to perform a special duty. Invariably the patsy needs help, and that's where the other characters come in. As the campaign progresses, the referee can either stick with the same patsy or pick a new one at the start of each adventure. Elements of Style To encourage the proper larger-than-life feeling that sets swashbuckling apart from other stories, the referee must carefully script his adventure. Several elements are common to most swashbuckling adventures: similar settings or backdrops, types of villains and heroes, fighting style, and circumstances. Two broad settings are ideal for a swashbuckling adventure: on land or aboard some type of vessel. The vessel involved need not be limited to sailing ships. Steampunk games such as CASTLE FALKENSTEIN* and _SPACE 1889* make allowances for airships, submarines, and even subterranean mole- machines. And science fiction games such as the STAR WARS* RPG are well suited for swashbuckling campaigns. In either case, travel is an essential part of the setting for these stories. Captain Peter Blood (Errol Flynn in the movie _Captain Blood_) and his band of pirates sailed the length and breadth of the Caribbean Sea in search of adventure; D'Artagnan and the musketeers journeyed to England on missions for the Queen; and John Carter of Mars traveled to every land on Barsoom searching for his lost love, Dejah Thoris. Referees should take advantage of travel, as it lends a certain amount of scale to the larger-than-life aspect of the story. Robin Hood is the most notable exception to this; he and his merry men stay put in Sherwood Forest, but, as we'll see later, that's okay. For a ship-based campaign, destinations are important only when the players have to be somewhere specific at a certain time. Ship-based games are almost always drawn toward piratical themes, with the heroes either engaged in piracy or trying to stop it. After all, the oceans are very large, and it's easy to wander for a long time and not sight another vessel. There's no real need to play out the day-to-day routine of shipboard life. The same idea applies to air- and spaceship campaigns. If the players are engaged in wandering around, don't worry too much about their precise location until it's time for something to happen. Travel can also be used to add a sense of urgency to a story. This is best achieved by making it important to arrive at a destination on or before a certain time or date, by making the voyage a surprise, or both. For example, an adventure might start with the characters having to travel from London to Dover to meet a traveler. However, when they arrive in Dover they discover that the traveler is the soon-to-be-coronated king, who has been kidnaped to the continent. If he doesn't appear in Canterbury Cathedral in one week's time, he will never become king. Surprise! Not only is there a real sense of urgency to the characters' mission, but they also must take a great journey, totally unprepared. Some stories are designed for a very specific location or without the need for travel. The action in Robin Hood, as mentioned above, takes place in one area, and the idea of travel is only lightly touched upon in the story of Cyrano. Both of these stories convey the same sense of scale through the use of backdrops - events that take place apart from, and are not necessarily affected by, the characters' actions. At the beginning of his story, Robin Hood returned from fighting in the Crusades while King Richard remained behind; Cyrano was sent off to fight in the war against Spain. War is probably the best backdrop for adding scale to a story. It lets the players feel as if they are truly part of a very large world, where nations argue and great armies clash. And, as is the case with Robin Hood, it is not necessary for the characters to become involved in the backdrop during their adventures. Other good backdrops include, but are not limited to, natural disasters such as plague or famine, political intrigue or a cold war situation, or involvement with powerful people from different countries. The DM could set up a whole adventure that requires the PCs to guard the visiting envoy from Bangladesh from possible assassination while in Paris. There's no travel involved, but the involvement with people from other countries serves to tie the story into a larger world picture. Equally important to the story as the setting or backdrop are the characters that the referee uses to tell it. To begin with, all good swashbuckling stories have villains. These villains are always men who hold a great deal of power, either in their own right or under the authority of another. In either case, they abuse this power for their own ends. Cardinal Richelieu of the Musketeer stories is a man of great power in his own right, while Prince John, of the Robin Hood legend, rules on behalf of his brother King Richard. Villains themselves generally have little direct contact with the heroes. Villains plot and scheme, but they have others do their dirty work. If the characters do meet the head villain, it is often in a very genial setting, usually at the request or by the design of the villain himself. D'Artagnan meets only twice with Cardinal Richelieu; both times are at the request of Richelieu, who tries to recruit him. Swashbuckling villains are best thought of as the heads of large corporations, as in cyberpunk games. The characters constantly interact with their employees, but very rarely do they face the CEO. Almost all of the direct confrontations are between the heroes and the villain's minions. All of the fighting in Robin Hood is between Robin and Prince John's henchmen, the Sheriff of Nottingham and Sir Guy of Guisburn. Even at the very end of the story, Prince John never draws a sword; he doesn't have to. Cardinal Richelieu has an entire army of thugs to make constant trouble for the musketeers on a day-to-day basis. But when he has a specific plan to be carried out, he turns to his henchmen, le Comte de Rochefort and Milady de Winter. Even henchmen prefer to work through hired lackeys. The Sheriff of Nottingham usually sent Sir Guy to do his dirty work. The Comte de Rochefort may be on hand to oversee Cardinal Richelieu's plans, and the heroes may even cross swords with Rochefort once during the course of the adventure. But they won't really beat him until the bitter end. It isn't until the climax of the story that the hero fights the main henchman in the classic duel to the death, high atop the crumbling battlements. Highly placed villains with a lot to lose often allow the heroes to win - for now. Men like Cardinal Richelieu can't afford to have their involvement in plots come to light. That's why they work through intermediaries; they're deniable. Also, if they see their plans brought to nothing by worthy opponents, they may try to recruit them. Good talent is hard to find: "If he could be turned, he would make a valuable ally." Don't be too quick to have the heroes targeted for death. Let them live, try to recruit them, or twist them to your own ends first. After all, if all the Cardinal's enemies were to die suddenly, that might raise as many uncomfortable questions as having the plots exposed. Highly placed men have to play their games very carefully. It is not absolutely necessary to make the main villain untouchable. With just a slight alteration to the story, the Sheriff can become the main antagonist. People whose positions of power are granted by others - colonial governors, sheriffs, royally commissioned pirate hunters - all make good villains that can be confronted directly. They have just enough power to abuse at the expense of the people around them, and they can lie to their superiors back home about their true activities. Pirate hunters can prey on innocent ships and claim that the victims were in fact pirates, sheriffs can take what they want and imprison the victims, and governors can tax their subjects into starvation while the crown is thousands of miles away. These two-faced villains get their hands dirty, rough men who fight with the heroes at the story's end. The last thing to remember about villains is to let them win sometimes. Not only does this keep the villain around longer to scheme and plot and generally make life hard for the players, but it also gives the players more reasons to dislike the villain. Don't be afraid to kill the hero's kidnapped girlfriend if it's appropriate to the flow of the overall story. Sure, it may make the players mad, but they'll be that much more determined to bring the villain to justice. Sheer Skill and Bravado Just as every good swashbuckling story must have a villain, so too must it have heroes. That's where the PCs come in. In a world filled with swordsmen, two things set the swashbuckling hero apart from the rest: his mannerisms and his ability. As defined above, a swashbuckler is "swaggering and daring." Players can really strut their stuff in swashbuckling settings. Swashbucklers are brash, flamboyant, arrogant, boisterous men. They rush in where angels fear to tread . . . and get away with it. The first rule to playing a swashbuckling hero is this: Put on a good show, and Fate will smile on you. When the action is heating up, never do anything small when you can do it big. Don't use the door if you can swing in through the window; don't mount your horse if you can vault into the saddle; don't run from your enemies if you can drop a chandelier on them. Impossible odds? Ha! You don't know the meaning of the word impossible. While daring is indispensable, it's also important to use your head, too. At times you may faced with more than you can handle. Being brash doesn't mean being suicidal. After all, a dead hero doesn't do anybody any good. Be sneaky and devious sometimes. Need to get into the castle? Try swimming the moat, scaling the walls, and then fighting off the entire palace guard. Or seduce one of the kitchen maids and convince her to open the gate for you. Don't have time for that? Perhaps there's an inventor nearby who, conveniently, has a hot-air balloon you could "borrow" for a little while. Maybe if you built a large wooden badger . . . . Nobody's perfect, of course, not even swashbucklers. Heroes are people too, so give your hero at least one flaw or quirk that will personalize him to your taste. Cyrano always speaks in rhyme during duels and is arrogant enough to make up for his looks. As for the three musketeers, Aramis is vain, Athos is a drunk, and Porthos is continually confused; D'Artagnan, while he loves his Constance dearly, sees nothing wrong with bedding every woman he can. Not only do these sorts of mannerisms help you get into your character better, but it also gives the referee some good material to work with. But the way a hero acts isn't all that carries him through a fight. Swashbucklers are warriors by trade, so they've got to be good at what they do. In the movies, Errol Flynn can fence with six opponents at once and win. There are two possible reasons for this. First, the hero may have some tactical advantage over his adversaries: he may be on a spiral staircase that makes it hard to attack him, or he may be fighting in a narrow corridor where only one man at a time can come at him. This sort of advantage relies on the player to have a quick mind and spot situations that will be to his benefit. The second reason is that the hero is just a much better swordsman than his enemies. How this is reflected in game statistics depends on what system you are playing, but the referee should bear in mind while running a swashbuckling campaign that the feel is what's important. Villains usually send a lot of thugs to ambush the heroes. But that doesn't mean that they have to be very good thugs. Cyrano, single-handedly, fights and beats one hundred swordsmen in one fight, because he's a lot better than they are. Fudge a little. If you can't make the characters stronger, make their opponents a little weaker. But what sets Cyrano's fighting style apart from that of the typical mail-clad warrior of fantasy adventure? Most swashbuckling adventures (there are exceptions) take place in a setting resembling the 16th century or a later time period. What makes these eras' forms of combat different from previous ones is the advent of small arms, beginning with matchlock rifles and pistols. These new weapons render all forms of personal armor next to useless. So fighting styles change. Instead of large hacking weapons such as broadswords and axes, people turn to longer swords, rapiers designed for thrusting, gives them a greater reach. Cyrano may not be able to pierce the armor worn by a warrior of the Middle Ages, but he can easily outrun and then shoot an enemy. Cutlasses and sabers are shorter weapons, more useful for slashing and hacking. They are primarily employed on the battlefield or for close-in fighting, such as boarding actions. Furthermore, fencing involves a lot of fighting with a weapon in each hand. Most of the time this second weapon is a dirk, or long dagger. But there are several other options to choose from: the buckler, a second sword, your cloak (to entangle an opponent's weapon), or even a beer stein used as a club. Some schools even teach the use of a chair as a second weapon (look it up). This style of fighting involves a lot more brawling than earlier styles. The lack of armor makes thrown punches and kicks potentially effective attacks. Much of what we recognize from this style of fighting grew out of Hollywood theatrics. But that has become the ideal of swashbuckling combat, and it is what the referee should try to simulate. Good examples are movies like _The Three Musketeers_ with Michael York (1973), and _Crossed Swords_ with Oliver Reed (1978). Most games don't simulate this type of combat very well. But don't feel that you have to rewrite your game's entire combat system. Just a few simple modifications will suffice. First of all, most game systems assume that the only reason that someone would have a second weapon in their off-hand would be to gain a second attack; these systems apply a penalty to the use of the second weapon. But that's not why the two-handed fighting style was developed. The second weapon was used primarily to parry incoming attacks. To simulate this, ignore any penalties that are imposed on the use of an off-hand weapon when the weapon is used for defensive purposes. Or, as long as the second weapon is appropriate (a beer stein doesn't make a very useful parrying weapon) and is used only for defense, grant the character the same benefits as if he were using a small shield, and on any round in which he wishes to attack with it he loses the shielding benefit. Second, several off-hand weapons could remove, break, or entangle an opponent's weapon. Sword-breakers, armored gauntlets, cloaks, and similar weapons, when used to "attack" another weapon, should make a separate attack roll. If the attack roll succeeds, then, depending on the weapons in use, have the combatants test against each other's Strengths or Dexterities to see if the weapon is entangled, broken, or dropped - this simulates the well-known struggle between to two swordsman (and is also a good time to trade quips or insults). Obviously a cloak wouldn't be much good for breaking an opponent's weapon, but it is very good at entangling. Coincidence? Never Heard of It The last point to remember while running any swashbuckling campaign is the circumstance in which the events of the story present themselves. In swashbuckling, there is no such thing as coincidence; the action must be fast and furious, and every action has its consequences. Nothing ever just happens in a swashbuckling game. There are no chance meetings, no happy coincidences. Everything that happens to the players occurs for a reason. In _Cyrano,_ Christian catches a man picking his pocket. Christian lets the man go in exchange for information he has which will save his friend's life. In the movie _The Four Musketeers,_ Athos drinks to forget a woman from his past. That woman turns out to be Milady de Winter, the main henchman of Cardinal Richelieu. Such coincidences serve not only to further the story, but also to motivate the characters to action. If the hero in a story believes that his only daughter died many years ago, rest assured she did not. Rather, she was spirited away by the villain who raised her as his own, and now she is the main henchman. Only as the story approaches its climax should the truth be revealed, adding to the larger- than-life sense of drama that is so vital to this type of campaign. The common occurrence of such coincidences also allows the referee to fudge in favor of the players if the need should arise. If the characters are facing certain death at the hands of the villain, let them be saved by a former servant, now forced into the employ of their enemy. Or if they are outnumbered in a fight, let some other swashbuckler come to their assistance; perhaps he can aid them even more with needed information or become a recurring character. Remember the example of the inventor's convenient hot-air balloon? That's taken from the third musketeer film with Michael York, _The Return of the Musketeers._ Don't hand the characters everything on a silver platter; but, if they need a little nudge now and then, feel free to give it them. Swashbuckling heroes take extraordinary risks; they deserve some breaks when things go wrong. Keep the action of the story intense. When the time comes - and it will - for swords to be drawn and for blood to flow, don't just have a fight. There's a lot more to a swashbuckling fight than rolling for initiative and determining who hits whom. Use dialogue and specific actions to make the fight intense. The characters' opponents may taunt or threaten them while dueling away, or let the scene's tension build with dialogue for as long as possible before drawing weapons. Both the book and the movie _The Prisoner of Zenda_ are good sources for examples. Use the surroundings to add color to the scene. If a fight takes place in a bar keep in mind the other people in the bar: the braver patrons may throw bottles and chairs, overturn tables, the women scream, the men swear. If a fight takes place in a stable, have it catch on fire during the battle. In _The Four Musketeers,_ a fight takes place on a frozen lake. Both sides are slipping, sliding, and falling through the ice into the lake. Keep the players on their toes and make them think, but don't give them much time to do so during the action. Events move quickly, and he who hesitates is lost. Lastly, the heroes may win, but they never get away with anything scot free. Everything the characters do should have its consequences. Having helped the Queen successfully once, the characters had better be prepared to do it again, for little or no reward other than the privilege of serving Her Majesty. Cardinal Richelieu may let D'Artagnan and his fellows free after killing Milady de Winter, but 15 years later her daughter has grown up and is looking to settle the score. The consequences of the PCs' actions may be large or small, may come swiftly or after many years, but they will come. This theme ties in nicely with the idea of no coincidences. The story is more interesting if the daughter of an old enemy just happens to meet one of the heroes and - without realizing who he is - falls in love with him. If all of the above has left you a little confused, go out and find some source material on your own. Apart from the movies and books mentioned previously, I recommend the following films: _Royal Flash_ with Malcolm MacDowell (1975), _The Iron Mask_ with Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. (1929, silent), _Nate and Hayes_ with Tommy Lee Jones (1983), and - believe it or not - _Ice Pirates_ with Robert Urich (1984). Also try these books: _Rupert von Hentzau_ (the sequel to _The Prisoner of Zenda_) by Anthony Hope, _On Stranger Tides_ by Tim Powers (pirates and voodoo!), _Wyvern_ by A.A. Attanasio, and (if you can find it) the historical book _The Buccaneers of America_ by John Esquemeling. In summary, the most important difference between a swashbuckling campaign and any other genre is style. The roll of the seas beneath the deck of a sailing ship, desperate races to save royalty from disgrace, duels to the death fought for love alone: all of these are what make swashbuckling so attractive to dreamers the world over. I hope that you are one of these dreamers, and if not, that you'll become one soon. * indicates a product produced by a company other than TSR, Inc. Knockout Combat Without armor, and with a well-placed bottle to the temple, it's a lot easier to stun your opponent or render him unconscious. Because a heavier blow has a greater chance of knocking a foe unconscious, the chance to knock an opponent out should be based on the amount of damage inflicted. Furthermore, it should be easier to stun an opponent than it is to knock him out. As more damage is taken, determine what percentage of the remaining total has been taken in any given round and roll against that percentage. For example, if an attacker has 10 points at the beginning of a round, and suffers 2 points of damage, he has a 20% chance of losing consciousness. The next round, with only 8 points remaining, two more hp damage would result in a 25% chance of unconsciousness. To determine the chance of being stunned, add 10% to the unconsciousness percentage; for example, losing 2 points from 8 would make a 35% chance of being stunned. Stunned characters may take no further actions in the round they are stunned, no actions other than defensive ones during the next round, and - if stunned again during that time - are automatically rendered unconscious. The CASTLE FALKENSTEIN* combat system uses playing cards instead of dice, so the method for determining stuns and knock-outs is somewhat different. First of all, to have a chance of stunning a foe, a blow must be delivered to a critical area of the target's anatomy (i.e., head, abdomen or groin). The precise difficulty of hitting one of these areas should be based on the situation. It's a lot easier to hit someone from behind by surprise than to hit someone in melee. As a rule of thumb, add 2-4 points to the target's defense number in combat for an aimed blow. Assuming that a blow lands in a key area, determine damage as appropriate for the level of success and weapon used. Then draw a card from the Fortune deck. If the card drawn is a Heart, the blow has stunned the victim. Furthermore, if the face value of the card is greater than the number of hit points the victim has remaining, the blow has rendered him unconscious. For example, a character starts a round with 10 wounds and takes 2 points of damage from a blow to the head, leaving him with 8 points left. His attacker now draws the 6 of Hearts from the fortune deck and achieves a stun. If the attacker had drawn the 9 of Hearts then our hero would have been knocked out. For purposes of stuns and knockouts, aces have a value of 1 and face cards (jacks, queens, and kings) have a value of 10. Improvised Weapons The following weapons are commonly used in swashbuckling brawls; nonproficiency penalties apply for characters without a brawling skill. The first set of statistics is for AD&D games, the second for the CASTLE FALKENSTEIN* setting. Weapon Speed Dmg Bottle 2 1d3-1/1d2-1 Beer Stein 2 1d3/1d2 Stool/Chair 5 1d6/1d4 Wooden Bench 10 1d8/1d6 Bucket/Lantern 4 1d6/1d3 Roasting Spit 6 1d8/1d6 Partial Full High Bottle none 1 B 1 W Beer Stein 1 B 2 B 1 B & 1 W Stool/Chair 1 W 2 W 3 W Wooden Bench none 1 W 2 W Bucket/Lantern 1 W 2 W 3 W Roasting Spit 1 W 2 W 3 W