The Dragon's Dress Ball, a Dee Sanction Play Report

This was a game I'd chosen to run at GrogMeat2021, a Dee Sanction game, it was my second TTRPG face-to-face since about 1992, my first homebrew and my first time running something face-to-face.

 😬 

The Dee Sanction is a tabletop role-playing game about serving Queen and country in the late Tudor period. While kingdoms vie for power and the Church splinters under the pressure of reform, folklorish creatures emerge from enforced hiding seeking revenge against those who imprisoned them.  The Dee Sanction is from the brain of Mr Paul Baldowski and has incredible art by Evlyn Moreau and Astaneal

Technically this game was run using a laminator!

Many thanks to Arjen, Debbie, Martin and Chris for bringing the whole adventure to life! 

...Here Be Spoilers...

Sic Parvis Magna ~ thus great things from small things come

The year is 1581 and Sir Francis Drake has returned to England, a hero, from his circumnavigation of the globe.  There is a great celebration across the land, none more so than in Devon and at Buckland Abbey, where another dress ball has been arranged to celebrate this magnificent explorer.

El Draque

But not everyone is so enamoured with El Draque (The Dragon), as he is coined in Spain, usually followed by a gobbet of phlegm passing the lips. 

Closer to home four dishevelled, wet and green-faced looking folk huddle in a fishing boat, the name on the prow, Ye Olde Bastard Beth.  Rain lashes down on the occupants, they are Reynold Fitzwilliam, an official of the watch, Sandra Knoylles and Edmund Greywell, scavengers by trade and finally Semer Gomersall, a waterman, currently the only one in action, as he tries to trim the sails and navigate up the River Tay towards Buckland Abbey. 

The boat's occupants all share a common fate, rescued from the gallows, they are indebted to John Dee, advisor to the queen and the creator of The Dee Sanction.  The Dee Sanction exists so the four travellers may live, as long as they use their limited magical powers and eldritch knowledge to protect the Queen and England.  Who knows, one day, they may even do such deeds so as to be granted a pardon from Elizabeth the I herself.

John Dee

Sandra ponders her fate and the words of Dee, as he made clear his orders in a waspish voice, they all marvelled at the device he used to perform this, given he was many hundreds of miles away in Europe.  The Black Seal, a two-way magical communication device, only to be used in the direst of needs, each Agent of Dee had one.  Dee has need of them, as "magical emanations" have been found centred around Buckland Abbey.  Dee has long suspected that something supernatural, esoteric and above all dangerous had made its way with Drake back to England and now resided in the abbey.

"Listen lowly wretches!", barked Dee.  "Find, steal and return the source to Mortlake, arouse no suspicion, trust no one!", he continued.  "Place ye a seal at the uppermost point of Buckland, from this I will be able to scry the exact location of yon article.  Make haste now!!  If ye be discovered, I disavow all knowledge!  Ha, ha and thrice ha!  Be gone!!"

Sandra disliked the pompous old fool, but she was also greatly fearful of him, something in his voice spoke of ungodly power, a connection with another world.  He was hellishly creepy.  Sandra spied something in the gloom, "A Ship ahead, beware!"

Semer heard a commotion from a boat in front.  A large, well to do gentleman was struggling to hoist the sail, whilst an older woman and two younger ones sat in damp, misery.  The man looked across at Semer, "I say.  You wouldn't know how these things work would you?  I said, I say."

A few hours had passed Sir Edwin Bainbridge was relaxing as Semer piloted his boat upstream, towing Semer's fishing boat behind.  A deal had been struck, as luck would have it Sir Edwin had a ticket for Drake's dress ball and he would put in a good word for the four of them to try and secure work at the ball, in return Semer and the others would guide them safely to Buckland.

After mooring the boats, Sir Edwin required an escort only as far as the main track, horses awaited them, but rest assured, they would have their jobs when they arrived at the Abbey.

Eventually, as the afternoon wore on, the Agents trod wearily onto the threshold of Buckland Abbey.

Buckland Abbey

The  Agents continued straight to the main gates.  Showing the letter and seal that Bainbridge had given them, they were told, that they would join the general temporary staff at 7pm tomorrow, they had almost 24 hours to wait.  To make good use of their time, they decided to join in with a bit of gambling and try and loosen the lips of some of the villagers, also hoping for work.  They learnt a good deal, tales of a stranger, a priest, possibly from the middle east - Edmund judged this given the description - with a gold headdress like the sun.  Sandra tried to tip the gambling in her favour by judicious use of her card counting but was found out and only the quick intervention of the others saved her from further harm.

As the evening wore on, Reynold pointed to the Tower, "It's the tallest point, it's where Dee wants the seal, let's get to it, for I say to you all, I have a cunning plan."  The plan was cunning in both its simplicity and danger; Reynold and Semer would pretend to wager that one or the other of them could climb the tower, they would pretend to fight and the crowd, riled by this, would insist they try, providing a distraction so no guards would interfere.  The plan began well, but the crowd, many of whom were full of drink, decided to get in on the argument and Semer was punched to the ground. 

After the group attended to Semer, a large, black swelling under one eye, Reynold stepped forward.  At this point, a section of the villagers took off to bait the guards and distract them.  Semer loped forward and vaulted nimbly onto the fence he stood, arms aloft, as the crowd cheered, before falling back into the dark.  He'd judged the fall into the bushes below a soft one and so it was, dusting himself off he set off at a jog to the main tower.  

Reaching the bottom of the tower, he looked up, some of the confidence drained out of him, but he could not let his adoring fans down.  He pulled himself up and began to find every nook and crevice as he slowly made his way up to the top.  Distant cheering alerted him to the fact that he must be near his destination and with a final heave he was on the roof of the tower.  He quickly did as Sandra had instructed, finding a small crack to slot his seal into.  He gave one last wave and a theatrical bow to the crowd at the gates, before swinging himself over the edge and down, to the sound of applause and more cheering!

The crowd were still at the gates, when over a side fence, Reynold slid over and brushed himself down.  Sandra, Edmund and Semer all rushed over to congratulate him.  Sandra, said breathlessly, "Dee has given us notice, a book, overflowing with magic, the Canticle of Fire, but there is more, other objects.  Dee will give notice of them when he has defined their location.  The canticle is too powerful it occludes his sight, so we must remove it first."

The Canticle of Fire

Edmund and Sandra decided to go for a walk around the boundaries of Buckland Abbey, whilst Reynold and Semer indulged in some more drinking and gambling.  Dee had not been specific of the canticle's location, they had hoped to gain some sign or indication from their trek and to see if there was any sign of the strange gold-adorned priest.  As they trodded around, Edmund gave out a cry and fell to his knees, a bright light, like a spark was dancing around the Abbey, at each location a fierce fire sprang up until the whole of the Abbey was in flames... but just as quickly, this vision faded, until only an imprint was left on his vision.  Sandra had seen nothing.  They decided together, that they'd seen enough and hurried back to the others.

The next morning as more and more helpers turned up, Sandra, Edmund and Semer chanced their luck at getting in, as circumstances would have it, they followed closely behind some kitchen staff and within a short while found themselves in the kitchen of the Abbey itself.  There was no sign of Reynold, still sleeping off the spent proceeds of his wagers.

Buckland Abbey Plan

It was not too hard for the three agents to spend time looking around the ground floor, the magnificently decorated hall, a kitchen full to bursting with the finest fare and a sombre chapel.  In the chapel, Sandra looked up to the gallery, something was prickling her skin, "Up there!", she barely whispered.  The three went up and moving along a corridor came across an enclosed library, access was barred by a strong iron gate, but through it they could see the canticle, sitting on a shelf.

After some thought, they decided it best to smuggle the book out in some loaves of bread, Semer went to get the bread, whilst Edmund worked his knife into the lock.  A hand rested on Edmund's shoulder, he spun around, there was Sandra, a finger to her lips, she beckoned for him to follow.  Looking down from above on to the chapel, they saw a figure, dressed in gold and orange robes, with a magnificent golden headdress in the shape of a rising sun, that rested just behind him.  He carried a long black pole, with a golden sun affixed atop of it.  Sandra was itching and prickling all over her, she felt the Black seal vibrating in her pocket, but she dared not move.  They watched some more, the Priest bent and inspected an altar, he started to press at the carvings on it, when he was interrupted by the familiar figure of Sir Francis Drake.

Drake crossed over to the man and shook his hand, "Flame Master Carn Ne-Seval, what are you doing in such a cold and dank place, come, let us inspect the hall, it glitters like a 1000 diamonds, a suitable place for your benediction tonight."  The two men walked off arm in arm through the door and into the great hall.

Flame Master Carn Ne-Seval

Semer came through from the kitchen, eyeing the door that Drake and his companion had left by, he looked up, nodding to his two companions and started to make his way up the stairs with a large tray of bread.

Later, back upstairs Edmund was twisting his knife into the lock, trying to get a feel for the mechanism, beads of sweat ran down his forehead as his two impatient companions implored him to hurry.  As he put a little more pressure on the knife, he heard a crunch, not good, but the gate swung open, unfortunately there was no way someone would not know it had been tampered with.

Edmund rushed in grabbed the book, and started making room under the bread for it.  He then picked up bread, book and tray and staggered, the book was devilishly heavy.  Semer supported him, until Edmund had regained his balance then they gingerly made their way back down the stairs, through the kitchen and out to the awaiting carts and tents.

Once they were past the guards they spied Reynold, they ushered him over to them and began to head off to find a quiet space.  Edmund looked at his hands, they tingled somewhat and were slightly reddish.  Nethertheless he picked up the book and started leafing through, he glanced at the exotic golden writing, the pictures of the sun and strange, alien temples.  Edmunds eyes felt dry and as he went to mop his brow, he winced, his face was hot, extremely hot.  He slammed shut the book, "Ye gods! My face!", he exclaimed.  Semer, nursing a large puffy black and purple eye, started at him with his good one, "You've caught the sun, your face it looks like a carrot!".  Edmund rushed to get some water and tipped it over his head, returning, he looked into a hand mirror, his skin was blistered and peeling, "Touch it not, tis the work of the devil!", he melodramatially announced, pointing a red, shaking finger at the book.

A a little while onward and the book was well hidden underneath a patch of gilly flowers.  Sandra had been speaking to Dee again, she recounted the conversation, "He says the staff, that that Flame Master, sun priest has, he needs it.  It's called The Sceptre of the Sun.".  Reynold leaned in, "And jest how the feck does 'e expect us to pluck that from under his nose!?"  Sandra shrugged, "That's not all, Dee says there is something much more powerful under the chapel, we will know it when we see it.  He says to be aware!"

The Sceptre of the Sun

As the clock passed 7pm, more people were requested to help with the service and it was straightforward for the agents to head in side.  The spent their time serving and wandering the main hall.  Eventually the time came for the festivities to begin.

Sir Francis Drake bestrode the small makeshift stage at one end of the hall, there were cheers and the clinking of glasses.  Following behind him was the Flame Master, Drake give a quick speech, thanking all those for coming and requesting that everyone, partake of wine, food and dance, but first, "Please indulge me, by allowing my companion on many travels, Flame Master Carn Ne-Seval, to bless this occasion.".  There was polite, scattered applause, as the Flame Master muttered a few strange syllables in an unknown language before raising his sceptre and a gout of flame lept into the air.  The audience oohed and few screamed and then Drake implored them all to drink like fishes,  eat like hogs and dance until their legs gave way.

As Semer and Reynold served food, they had caught some interesting gossip, it seems the Flame Master was a student of gambling, in particular Chaturanga, an ancient four player game of no little skill.  Reynold started up a loud boast, claiming him and his partner, he pointed at Semer, could best any Chaturanga player in the land.  This continued outrageous boasting stopped, when Reynold found himself staring into the bright, mesmerising eyes of the Flame Master, "Follow me, young lamb.", he whispered.

A shortwhile later and the games room, next to the library had been cleared with Semer, Reynold, the Flame Master and one of his bald acolytes, sat at a Chaturanga table.  The Flame Master intoned, "What do you offer for one game?"  Reynold thought, he clutched at the sealed letter in his pocket, "This!", he thrust the letter up into the air.  Reynold continued on, "A deed to some... to a valuable, no a rare... thing of something!"  The Flame Master cocked an eyebrow, "Then I shall claim the rare... Thing of Something!  But what would you have in return?"  Reynold eyed the sceptre, "That!", he pointed at the golden sun, sitting on top of the black stick.  The Flame Master looked taken aback but soon regained his composure, "Very well, it has done it's work, let the game commence."

Chaturanga

Reynold was a master of most games of chance and a few of skill, he'd played a couple of rounds of Chaturanga, but Semer had never lifted a games piece in his life.  The first round the Flame Master progressed to a strong position, he smiled up at the agents.  The next round Reynold had learnt a few moves from watching the wily old priest and had started to gain a hold on the board.  The Flame Master flapped his robe in agitation, glaring once or twice at the acolyte opposite him, who started to turn a bright shade of red.  The game was well balanced but the Flame Master was only a few moves from victory, when Reynold saw an opportunity to use the little magic he had.  He started to twist his fingers beneath the table, then he brought them up to his mouth and blew in the direction of the acolyte, he disguised this as if warming up his fingers.  The acolyte's eyes went wide and he started to cough and choke, he tried to steady himself and made a rushed move, the Flame Master's face fell and he bared his teeth, "Fool!"  Reynold saw his opportunity with a decisive move of his piece he then extend his hand to the Flame Master.  But the priest had already risen, making his way from the room, his sceptre lying on the game board.

Downstairs in the chapel, Edmund and Sandra, examined the carving that had so intrigued the Flame Master, Edmund noticed two finger shaped holes, worn smooth, he pushed in his fingers and pressed down, a click was followed by a lurch as the altar moved as he leaned on it.  Between Edmund and
Sandra they pushed the altar, until they could see a rough, hewn hole with steps leading down, looking around, they descended quickly.

Semer and Reynold were upstairs, rejoincing in their victory, as Reynold danced and cavorted around the room, Semer inspected the sceptre, it seemed to have a button or clasp on the side and he could smell some kind of chemical contained in the end, in the sun.  Semer had a pretty good idea, how to release the gouts of flame, if he should need it.  Reynold eventually calmed himself, "Come me good mate, who is a shite player of games.  Let us see if we can find our other halves, they planned to head down below."

Edmund was inspecting a large wooden door, it looked as though part of the cellars had been bricked up into a room.  He again stuck in his trusted blade, wriggling it from side to side until the lock gave, he pushed open the door and a treasure trove of wonders greeted him and Sandra.  Artefacts from all over the known world, much silver, gold and gems.  Sandra pointed at one of the objects, "That is Drake's drum, 'tis rumoured that if played, he will come and save England, be he alive ... or dead."  Sandra's eyes drifted across the objects, "That, that should not be, we are in such peril Edmund!"  Sandra was pointing at a large sarcophagus.  

Drake's Drum

At that moment the Seal started to vibrate, she held it up, Dee's disembodied voice rang out, "Save the drum, save Drake, something from your darkest nightmares has been summoned to destroy Drake!  Protect him, protect the drum, save England!!" before Sandra could reply, there was a screeching noise and the lid of the sarcophagus started to slowly move to one side.  Sandra rushed into the room, smelling a cold, fetid waft from the opening, she leant past it and grabbed the drum in both hands, just as a tattered, bandaged claw fell onto the side of the sarcophagus next to her head.  Sandra turned and ran toward Edmund.

Edmund grasped his short staff in front of him, knuckles white, teeth gritted, his teeth almost cracked, as the creature, skin peeling off of it, eyes red as coals, started to pull itself out.

The Mummy

As Sandra and Edmund weighed up whether to run or not, two figures clattered down the stairs, Reynold and Semer.  Semer stepped forward pointing the Sun end of the sceptre at the creature, he depressed the button and a gout of hot, white fire leapt into the room, covering the beast from head to toe and igniting tapestries, pictures and anything flammable.  Within the flames, the undead roared and threw it's arms about the room, searching for its foe.  Edmund stepped forward and dealt the creature a crack about it's shoulder.  Reynold sliced deep into it's side with his sickle, all the while the sickly smell of burning flesh surrounded them, as the creature wailed and lurched forward, grasping at thin air.  Spinning around it corned Sandra and reached for her, she calmly pushed some fine dress making scissors into it's chest and with a grunt, it sunk slowly to the floor, black smoke billowing up from it.

The seal again vibrated, Sandra held it up to her ear, calm but pale. Dee spoke, "The Flame Master has left Buckland, he must be stopped.  Is all the other business concluded?"  Sandra whispered back, "Yes."  Dee responded, almost pleased, "Right, then hurry after him, he must be stopped, else you'll be back on the gallows."

The treasure room was now a roaring inferno, it was hard to breath as the smoke coiled around them.  They rushed up the stairs and into the hall, Edmund found Drake and announced, "We are agents of Dee, we would speak with the Flame Master."  Drake turned and looked at the red faced man, "He has left my good chap, off across the sea I believe, and... oh my god... fire!  Fire!"  Drake was pointing at the curtains at the back of the hall, from which thick smoke was rising.  He turned to the agents, but they were gone.

Sandra vaults into Drake's carriage and the others clamber in beside her.  She cracks the whip and the carriage begins to gain speed, it lurches from side to side as she pushes it through the gates, past the surprised guards and up the side of the valley.  At one point, she almost loses it, but regains enough control to keep two wheels in contact with the ground.  Eventually they came to a halt at the River, ahead they can see the shape of a boat, with a number of people onboard and the occasional glint of gold in the moonlight.  

Semer brings his boat to bear on a course directly behind the Flame Master and his acolytes, slowly, using all his seamanship, he begins to gain on them.  "Wait, I think we are near enough for my grease, I've been saving it.", Reynold scrabbles in his jacket before pulling out a green tinged jar.  Reynold lights the contents, which starts to boil, hiss and give off the foulest of stenches.  He leans back and overarm, throws the lit jar towards the boat ahead.  They watch as it a arcs through the night sky, then  it's content explodes on the boat ahead, lighting up the darkness around them.

A jar of foul smelling grease

People in the boat ahead are screaming and jumping into the water but to the edge of the river, can be seen the outlinedshape of the Flame Master, swimming confidently towards the bank.  Semer focuses and opens his mouth wide, a strange noise echoes from deep within and little sparkling dust motes rise from it and fly towards the man in the water.  The Flame Master pauses his swimming as the glowing dust settles in front of him, then it flies directly up his nostrils, he gasps and swallows lung fulls of water, he flounders, turning only to see a large boat bearing down on him Ye Olde Bastard Beth, are the last words he sees. 

The prow of the boat hits him between the forehead with a wet crunch.  The agents rush to the back of the boat, but only bubbles come to the surface, they look around for other survivors but the waters are still, only a few scorched and blackened corpses rest on the surface.

The Agents pull to the side, "Our work is done here.", Edmund sighs.  "More than our fair share.", replied Reynold.  Sandra clapped her hands together, "Come on!  Let's get the book and then head back to London, I'll contact Dee once we are under way.  Or anyone think otherwise?"  Semer smiled, "With the way you brandish those scissors, I'll go along with whatever you say."

Semer turns the boat around and it starts to make it's way back up the river towards Buckland.

After a little time, out of the shadows step three men, two of them talk in hushed voices, in Spanish.  A third man strokes his beard, he speaks with a strong Irish accent, "Well, King Philip is not going to take kindly as to how this plan ended up.  Let's make for Plymouth boys and give him the bad news."

James "Spanish" Blake