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Gezelschapsspellen Feudum Manual

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Queens before her were seduced by
queenly couture and wore status
like a royal overcoat. Others
were conned by fine cutlery
or lulled by lavish linens
from the bedding chambers.
Not Queen Anne. No, this
red-haired Highness loved
something else: Gold. From her
dazzling tiara down to her gilded toe rings, no other
queen had been so utterly taken by the yellow metal. It
wasn’t always so. The good king had courted a kind and
generous heart, not swayed by material greed. But as the
Queen’s beauty faded, she placated her fears with fawning
men and a tryst or two in the treasury room.
King Daniel was generous and
without guile. His subjects
insisted that heaven itself
bestowed benevolence upon
him. Yet Queen Anne, who
had less noble intentions on
how to run the kingdom, be-
moaned his charity. Unaware of her
dwindling loyalty, King Daniel put her in charge,
while he accompanied his bravest knight, Sir Marcus,
on a noble expedition. “I bid thee farewell, my love,” he
told his queen. And with that, he kissed her, not realizing
that love was not to be found on her lips (or in her hips,
for that matter).
Sir Marcus was a brave but
battleworn knight, widely ad-
mired across the kingdom. In
the still of the day, he dreamt
of a certain farm maiden who
had come of age. Yet his
allegiance to the throne never
faltered. In service to
his king, Sir Marcus recruited troops and dutifully
enforced a tax that funded the building of outposts at the
edges of the kingdom. With Sir Marcus at his side, King
Daniel penned into law several Royal Writs—charters that
expanded the kingdom, and mandates that rewarded the
ingenuity of his subjects.
In his absence, the king entrusted
the granting of fiefdoms to his
queen. And thus he lent her his
royal crown seal, a ring whose
stamp on burning red wax
could turn mere commoners
into doting vassals in a single
stroke. Queen Anne was often
seen peering out the window in the
royal tower, running her fingers through her vermilion hair
and whispering to her pet snake, Samuel. “Nothing suits
my suitors sweeter than gold,” she uttered—and her pet
agreed, “Ssssssss.”
When a famine struck the land, the good king’s heart was
troubled. He beseeched the monks
to pray for a bountiful harvest, and
bestowed lands and wealth upon
the church so that alms could
be given to the poor. His loyal
subject and holy confidant,
Brother Justinius, chortled with
gratitude as the king tossed a pouch
of shillings into the church coffer. “The
people cherish thy charity, good king! May choirs cheer
and Chaucer chronicle your good name.” The coins echoed
throughout the basilica, “Ka- Chink. Ka-Chink.”
In front of her public, the queen
feigned sympathy for the king’s
penchant for charity. But secretly,
she abhorred the idea of
depleting the royal treasury!
Donning a dark, emerald cloak,
she stole away one frozen night
to seek out Lord Arthur, Earl of
alchemy. The earl was most famous
for his spinning cogs, pulleys and contraptions; but deeper
rumors likened him to a sorcerer who could summon
explosions and fuse common elements into gold.
One evening, the earl and his cat Norrin were startled by
a knock at the door. “It is your queen my good earl,” she
revealed. “I have come to share
concoctions of my own.” The
queen spoke to him in hushed
tones, urging him to reveal the
secrets of his alchemy. But
when the earl forbade her
procurement of the unstable
formula, she stealthily snatched
his journal and departed. As she
strode away, the earl uttered his defiance, “May malady
malign you my mercurial menace.” Norrin had witnessed
the queen’s mischief and mused, “Meow.”
Frustrated by her husband’s
charity, Queen Anne seized the
alms set aside for the poor
and restored her royal
treasury to its former luster.
Not only did her treachery
trigger starvation among the
common folk, it drove up the
price of goods. This enriched
the pockets of the dashing Lord Brett, the wealthiest
merchant in all the land. “Good squires, like squirrels,
never squander,” the merchant quipped, as he shooed a
rat from his apple barrel. “Squeak!”
To surmise the gravity of a looming famine, the king
invited farm maiden and friend of
the poor, Miss Allison into his
court. The girl was plain in
manner, but not in beauty.
Her eyes were swirling vats
of endless chestnuts. Her
pure round lips could out pout
a tantrum. Even her collarbones
stood up to greet you with a warm
hearty, “hello.” When the time came to
address the king, she held a lamb in her arms and boldly
spoke on behalf of her starving countrymen, “Banish us
before hunger becomes the bane of our existence.” Her
lamb bleated softly, “Baaaaa.”
…the fable continues in the expansion, Windmills &
Catapults.
game crediTs
I would like to thank all my original play testers, Arthur
Hartle, Samuel Tham, Brett Barton, Dan Fritz, Andy White,
Justin Viessman and James Gall for playing the game long
before it got all shiny and polished, and for giving me
stellar feedback—even at 2am in the morning! I am also
thankful for my “second wave” of playtesters and rulebook
editors including Tim Maylander, Glen Greeson, Eric Gerdts,
Michael Gallo, Phil Shearrer and Travis D. Hill. Mountains of
gratitude go to my artist Justin Schultz, who amazed me with
his astonishing illustrations, cheeky sensibilities, and hidden
“gems” in the artwork. For that, Justin himself is a gem! And
finally, I thank my wonderful children Elizabeth, Rosalind
and Penny for letting Dad disappear to the basement to
work on “his game.”
Author
:
Mark Swanson
Artist
:
Justin Schultz
©2017 Odd Bird Games
… 12


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