Thursday, March 12, 2015

Medieval Tournaments on the Tabletop

Spring Tournament at the Royal Armouries, Leeds - photo credit: me
Sometimes you fight people without trying to kill them.  Today, that's called 'sports', but in the Middle Ages it was called a tournament.  Imagine if the winning team in the Super Bowl was the one that kidnapped the most members of the opposing team, or if the winner of the Home Run Derby got a falcon and a sack of gold coins.  Tournaments were a form of mock-combat, ritualized and regulated into a violent and lucrative sporting competition.  So how do you put one of those in your D&D game?  Allow me, d20 Despot and Master of Medieval History, to be your guide to the world of the medieval tournament, including rules for running them at your gaming table.  

   The earliest known medieval tournaments were essentially huge mock-battles.  The gathered knights would form up in two opposing lines of loose formations and - at the signal - charge at each other.  They would attempt to strike each other with lances, pass each other, turn around while keeping some semblance of order to their formation, and return to meet their opponents with melee weapons.  At that point the goal of the knights became capturing enemy knights, and the whole thing devolved into a huge mess.  Knights formed into groups based on their personal loyalties and rode around defending each other while simultaneously trying to gang up on other knights and capture them.  They would try to grab them off their horses, seize their reins, or pull off their armor, thus forcing them to surrender (they used real, un-blunted swords at this point, so having your armor pulled off was good incentive to stop resisting). 
   When a knight was captured, they would be led back to the other team’s safe-zone (which was also where injured knights would be treated) and kept there.  Captured knights (and/or their retinues and patrons) had to muster up enough money to ransom back not only themselves, but also their horses, their armor, even their saddle.  If they had enough on hand (or could convincingly give their word that they would pay it later), they could rejoin the tournament immediately; otherwise, their day was over.  Warhorses, armor, and gear were very valuable investments: capturing a knight at tournament could be very lucrative - and getting captured could be financially devastating. 
   These early tournaments were not really spectator sports.  Though they began in a designated field, there were no real boundaries.  Groups of knights in the midst of the chase would end up scattered all over the nearby countryside, blundering through the woods, trampling crops, even galloping through the streets of a nearby town.  With so much at stake, knights went to great lengths to capture others and not get captured themselves.  In an account of the life of William Marshal (1146 - 1219), the greatest knight who ever lived, it is said that he captured a knight at a tournament and, as he was leading him back through the town toward his safe zone, the captured knight reached up and grabbed hold of the overhanging beam of a house, making his escape so silently and unexpectedly that William didn’t notice his prize was gone until someone else pointed it out.  Of course, it didn’t help that early tournaments basically had no rules.  Count Philip of Flanders, for instance, was praised for an ingenious strategy he used to win many tournaments.  The strategy?  He held all his men back and said that they wouldn’t be participating that day.  Then he would wait until all the other participants had tired each other out, and his fresh forces would sweep in from the sidelines and win the day.  Yay, cheating!

I don’t think there are any special rules that need to be created if you want to somehow incorporate this sort of tournament into a game of D&D or Pathfinder.  So instead, I’ll just leave you with another William Marshal anecdote.  After one tournament, a group of knights was going around trying to find William Marshal so they could give him a big ol’ fish as a prize for how awesome he was.  They found him at the smithy, with his head on the anvil.  Apparently, his great helm had taken so many blows during the tournament that he couldn’t pull his head out of it.   

Fortunately for us (and for the participants), later tournaments were more structured and less chaotic.  Let’s take a look as some of the more popular tournament events and how we can play them out in-game.

Foot Combat
Paul Hector Mair: De arte athletica II, via Wikimedia
A common feature of tournaments in the late Middle Ages and beyond were foot combats - bouts between two opponents in a ring, each using the same weapon.  Two of the most common weapons used in these fights were the greatsword and the pollaxe.  They would typically be fought in the round (in an enclosure about the size of a modern boxing ring - 20 ft. x 20 ft.) or over a barrier (the two opponents facing each other from opposite sides of a waist-high fence, ruling out blows below the waist). 

For our purposes, since this is a fantasy world, you could easily designate whatever weapons you desired as the tournament weapons, or make it a free-for-all where opponents matched with different weapons square off against each other. 

I would implement some form of the called shot optional rules for this type of fight, with the catch being that you are targeting your opponent’s touch AC.  For the purposes of tournament combat only, your shield and any magical enhancement bonus to your AC count toward your touch AC.  The aim is to strike a solid blow to the enemy, not necessarily to penetrate their armor.  You score 1 point by striking your opponent on the body (no penalty to hit), 2 for striking a limb (-2 to hit), and 3 for striking the head (-5 to hit).  You decide what to aim for, make your attack, and if you beat their touch AC - including the called shot penalties - you get the points.  If your attack roll falls short, but would still be enough to hit an easier target, you still miss because you couldn’t hit the target you were aiming at (for example, if you are 1 shy of being able to hit the head that you aimed for, you can’t redirect the blow to the arm even though your attack roll would have been enough to hit the arm, because you already said you were aiming for the head).  If your attack roll exceeds their regular AC, you deal nonlethal damage as well.  Getting knocked out is an automatic forfeit.  The combat continues for a predetermined number of rounds or until one participant earns a predetermined number of points. 
   The GM is encouraged to come up with particularly flavorful descriptions and penalties for when a critical hit is landed on a tournament called shot - a blow to the arm might deaden it for 1d4 rounds, rendering it useless, and a blow to the head might cause 1d3 rounds of blindness.  Players, in turn, are encouraged to be creative with their attacks.  Sometimes it might be best to make a trip, disarm, or sunder attempt rather than a regular attack. 

The weapons used should be blunted for safety.  Such weapons are wielded normally, and are similar to the regular form of the weapon in all respects including weight and cost, but deal only bludgeoning damage, all of which is converted into nonlethal damage if the target is wearing Medium Armor or heavier. 

You may also want to try some variation of the foot combat where the winner is the first to land a blow (making for a very short game) or the first to knock the other competitor out (potentially making for a much longer game). 

The Melee
Codex Manesse, via Wikimedia
This would be a variation of the normal tournament foot combat, only with many participants on each side - maybe 5 to 10 on a side, including one or two mounted opponents.  For safety, these were often fought over a barrier, so injured participants could retreat to safety with minimal danger of being trampled to death. 

Rules-wise, these would be the same as the foot combat described above, but with more participants and a lot more points being scored. 

The Joust of Peace
A Knight's Tale - Colombia Pictures, via imaginationalone.net
The goal of the joust of peace was to break your lance on your opponent’s body.  The knights would wield lances made of weak (or even hollowed) wood which would splinter on impact in a dramatic fashion.  The lances were tipped with three-pronged coronels rather than a single point, which served both to spread the impact out over a greater area for safety and to catch on the armor and make it easier for the lance to break instead of just glancing off. 

Coronel lance-head - Royal Armouries, Leeds. Photo credit: me
This would use the same system of called shots as the foot combat above, with a few modifications: you get 1 point for striking the shield (no penalty to hit), 2 for striking the body or right arm (-2 penalty to hit), and 3 for striking the head (-5 penalty to hit).  The shield does not apply to your touch AC for the joust of peace because it is a viable target, and because you can’t move your shield to protect different areas of your body since that arm is also holding the horse’s reins.  One never aims for the legs, for fear of hitting the horse (and also because there is generally a horse-high barrier called a ‘tilt’ between the two riders). 

Another difference is that there is no initiative order in a joust - even if one horse starts moving slightly before the other one, the two knights will still strike each other simultaneously.  Typically, the joust lasts for three passes of the lance, and whoever has the most points at the end wins.  Of course, anyone knocked out by nonlethal damage automatically loses. 

As you might have guessed, the joust of peace was all about spectacle.  Lances cracking into splinters was a very visceral and engaging way of showing the power of the combatants.  Emperor Maximilian I, a great lover of tournaments, took things one step further with his exploding armor.  He had armor designed with spring-loaded plates that would fly off dramatically when struck by a lance.  The loss of these extra plates did not compromise the structure of the armor, but it must have looked totally awesome to the spectators. 

Paul Hector Mair: De arte athletica II, via Wikimedia
The Joust of War
Unlike the joust of peace, in the joust of war, your goal is to unhorse your opponent.  The lance is solid and tipped with a single blunt point that concentrates the force into a powerful but (hopefully) nonlethal blow.  Riders wear flat-backed saddles so they slide off the back of their horse more easily (instead of getting their back broken against a high saddleback). 

Lance-head for the joust of war - Royal Armouries, Leeds. Photo credit: me
The joust of war does not use the tournament called shots rules.  This is a game of straight-up attack rolls against your opponent’s regular armor class.  Anyone struck by a lance must make a successful Ride check (DC 5 + damage dealt) or be knocked off their horse.  Remember that a lance deals double damage when used by a charging mounted warrior.  Remember also that falling off a horse requires a DC 15 Ride check or you take 1d6 points of lethal damage. 

A joust of war lasts for three passes, or until one opponent is unhorsed.  If both opponents are simultaneously unhorsed, it is a draw. 

Organization of a Joust
Sometimes jousts, whether of peace or of war, were organized by a single knight or a small group of compatriots.  They would set up camp around a bridge or a gate or some replica of an important object from a popular story, like the Holy Grail or the Golden Fleece, and declare that they would defend it against all challengers.  Knights from all around would then attempt to joust them for the glory of it.  This was known as a Pas d’Armes.  Other times, the knights participating in a joust would remain by their tents, with two shields hanging outside.  A challenger would go to the tent of the knight he wished to challenge and strike the shield of war and/or the shield of peace a number of times representing the number of passes they would make against each other in each type of joust.  More rigidly structured tournaments organized by a king or powerful lord would probably have set brackets like a modern sporting tournament. 

Prizes
Winning a tournament meant winning prizes.  Usually, the three best scorers would get prizes appropriate to their level of achievement - like the gold, silver, and bronze medals in the Olympics.  Prizes might include golden trophies, hunting falcons, and of course, big ol’ sacks of cash.  The wealthier the organizer of the tournament was, the bigger the prizes that could be expected.  A low-class fighting tournament might involve participants paying into a purse that the winner takes home. 
   Points are not everything when determining who gets prizes.  Many earlier tournaments didn’t even have points systems - the prize just went to whoever was judged the best, either by their peers, the heralds, or the ladies who were present.  Tournaments that did have winners based on point-systems might also have winners based on such judgments as well. 
   Another prize, obviously, is bragging rights and reputation.  If you are playing with some kind of reputation or fame system, winning a tournament should definitely contribute to it.  Even if you don’t have such a system in place, winning a tournament - especially a major tournament - should have in-game roleplaying consequences. 

The Crowd
Codex Manesse, via Wikimedia
An added element of the tournament is the presence of a crowd.  Ultimate Combat has some excellent rules regarding what it calls ‘performance combat’ which seem geared toward gladiatorial fights, but can easily be applied to the tournament as well.  It’s all about influencing the crowd toward one side or the other, and gaining combat bonuses if the crowd is on your side or penalties if they boo your every move. 
   One thing I would add to this would be heralds.  Each combatant can have a herald (usually a bard, or whatever party member has the highest Charisma) who can attempt to sway the crowd in his/her favor.  Before a foot combat or a joust, the heralds of each side introduce their fighters and attempt, with opposed Diplomacy checks, to convince the crowd that their guy is the one to root for.  During a joust, between each pass of the lance, the heralds might battle each other in a war of words for the hearts and minds of the audience.  And, of course, the bards can use their bardic performances to improve their allies’ performance in combat as usual. 

Favors
Winning the favor of a lady was a huge morale boost for a knight at a tournament.  If your character obtains the favor of a lady (or lord) in the form of a small token - like a handkerchief to tie around the end of your lance - you gain a +1 bonus to attack rolls.  However, this courtly love business was also a game of social rank: if two or more opponents competing against one another have a lady’s (or lord’s) favor, only the favor of the lady (or lord) with the highest social rank grants the bonus (with ties going to the lady or lord with the highest Charisma score). 

Other Tournament Events
The number of potential events you could have at a tournament is boundless.  I’ll give a few popular examples below, but there is always plenty of room for expansion and improvisation. 

Ring-Catching
In this competitive but non-violent event, horsemen charge down the tiltyard (the jousting area) trying to catch hanging rings with their lance.  There would be 3 (or as many as you want, I guess) rings or wreaths about 4 to 6 inches in diameter, hanging from posts by thin strips of cloth or ribbon. 
   Each contestant would simply make three separate attack rolls, one for each ring.  The rings should each have an AC of 15 (or more, depending on the average attack bonus of the contestants - we mustn’t make things too easy).  A roll of a natural 1 means the rider misses that ring and the next ring. 
   Of course, readers of Dinotopia know that this sport isn't always necessarily performed on horseback:
'Ring Riders' - James Gurney (via Greenwichworkshop)

Quintain
Spring Tournament at the Royal Armouries, Leeds - photo credit: me
This event evolved from a training exercise for horsemen.  The quintain is a rotating horizontal beam with a shield on one end and a weighted sack on the other, sometimes made up to look like an armored warrior wielding a flail.  The object is to strike the shield with a lance from horseback and cause the quintain to spin around.  The rider must then avoid the blow of the quintain’s weighted sack.  A successful rider earns 1 point for every time the quintain makes a complete rotation.
   The shield of the quintain has an AC of 12.  For every four points by which your attack roll exceeds the quintain’s AC, it makes one additional rotation (an attack roll of 16 causes the quintain to make 2 rotations, 20 makes it rotate 3 times, etc.).  In addition, any rider who strikes the quintain must succeed at a Ride check (with a DC equal to their attack roll -5) or be struck by the quintain’s weighted sack and take 1d4 points of nonlethal damage, requiring a DC 10 Ride check to avoid being knocked off the horse.  An attack roll of a natural 20 does not require the rider to make such a Ride check.  

Archery
The classic picture of an archery contest is what you would see in a Robin Hood movie: the archers line up and fire at the targets, someone gets a bullseye, someone else splits the arrow and dramatically reveals himself to be Robin Hood… you get the picture.  

The Adventures of Robin Hood - Warner Bros. Pictures, via Wikimedia
   It would be pretty simple to simulate this in-game: each archer gets three attack rolls, all three are added together, and whoever has the highest total wins!  Any roll lower than 11 misses the target and doesn’t count toward your total.  A critical hit should result in something suitably dramatic.  It’s simple, but maybe not as exciting or in-depth as the other events I’ve described.  You could have a multi-level archery contest where this is the opening event and whoever gets above a certain score gets to move on to the next competition, which may be the same game or may be a different archery game. 
   Another potential archery game would be a few archers (2 to 4) aiming at the same target.  The target would be behind a barrier, and it would be launched upward at irregular intervals (either by magic or by a lever-catapult system), and all the archers would fire at it.  Each archer would roll initiative and then make an attack roll, with the attack roll determining their score.  Any roll lower than a 15 would miss.  Initiative order would determine the order in which the arrows strike the target, and the first person to hit it would get a bonus of 5 points.  Thus the game is not just a test of accuracy, but of speed. 

Dance
Big tournaments in the High and Late Middle Ages would be accompanied by much pomp, including massive parades, lavish parties, and dances.  Some tournament books describe how the dance became a sort of contest for the ladies, with prizes given to the best three dancers as judged by the knights.  Obviously, since the world of D&D/Pathfinder is more egalitarian than the real world, women can participate in the combat events, so men should be able to participate in the dancing contest as well. I won't set down any hard rules for a dancing contest: it could be a simple matter of Perform (dance) checks, but I'm sure the reputation of the dancers, the quality of their clothes, and their Diplomacy checks should factor into it as well.  If you incorporate a dance into your tournaments, try to make it fun.  This is a great opportunity to introduce new NPCs, insert some backstory or plot-relevant information via conversations, have romantic and/or political subplots come to a head, and exercise the PCs' Knowledge (nobility) skills.  

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Okay, site news: Wow, I have not been getting my posts up on time!  Sorry about that.  I've been very busy at work and it's really eating into my free time (quelle surprise, I don't actually make enough money from my Patreon to do this full time... yet).  I promise to continue to put weekly updates up, but for the next month or so they probably won't always fall on a Monday.  

-your d20 despot, M.A.

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