A kingdom in the wilderness (Inactive)

Game Master nightdeath

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Dot for now to get the campaign on my page.

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Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged
by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and
authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the
Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel
within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration
should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and
west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of
this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful
behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry
remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this
24th day of Calistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov
and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of
the Dragonscale Throne.

That is what the expensive looking parchment they gave you says. Apparently it will make agents of Restov, indeed of Brevoy give you their aid. But will that help? This parchment will do little against bandits, and even less against rampaging monsters. Attached to the scrollcase the parchment came in is a small linen bag containing twenty shiny gold coins with the logo of the Aldori on it. Pretentious, yes. But gold is gold. And as the man had said, there was more to be earned.

You came to Restov for your own reasons, perhaps intent to explore the wilderness, or maybe you just came across the recruiting office by chance, but here you are. An official conquistador of the Lord Surtova, charged with exploring what is known as the Northern Greenbelt. A dangerous place rife with bandits and wild animals. The caravan will leave soon. And if the recruiter is to be believed you will meet your new colleagues there, as together you will travel to Oleg. A noble from Restov who was brave, or is it foolish, enough to build a trading post along the road on the border of the 'river kingdoms'

It is a chance for glory and wealth, or perhaps a path to a quick death, but it's the only choice you have now. There is only the way forward.

Adventure awaits in the stolen lands....

He moves slowly enjoying the sights. This wild untamed land captures his imagination as his slow and easy strides bring him up along the road. His backpack on his back, weapons slung at the side. His bulk casting a shadow alongside the road yet his manner is gentle.

The journey doesn't seem to bother him but he is one of little to no speech. His actions generally speak louder. Massive shoulders heave as a slight paunch sucks a sudden breath as he yawns.

He does not walk alone though........... He has a brother.

Kearan walks alongside his brother, dwarfed despite his own massive frame. His thick brown hair falls to his shoulderblades, tangled and matted with dirt, and it has some twigs and leaves caught in it. His beard is also long and thick on his jaw and lip, but his eyes are a bright, icy blue. He walks with long, powerful strides, his gear jostling on his back: a pack filled with gear, and an axe on either side--one a hatchet, one a long-handled axe built for felling trees and splitting logs.

Like the other tall man, this one doesn't talk much, although he seems friendly enough when he interacts with others on the road. He's short- and soft-spoken, and seems to prefer looking out over the wilderness or cooking basic food in his pot to conversation. Overall, he gives the air of a frontiersman, fitting since that's what he is.

"So, tell me again, brother. What is it you do these days?" he asks the man beside him.

"You should know since I have not changed much. Lying around, studying the land and its inhabitants. This land is beautiful but the danger within is very real. We're going to ahve our work cut out for us."

Sirsi waits by the caravan, eager to be off, she's not sure what sort of a conquistador she'll make, but it's better than her crimes catching up with her.

As she sees the two wild looking men approach she smiles. "good day tae you, do yer be fellow agents of Rostov in search o' glory an' adventure?" Sirsi smiles warmly, apparently at ease around dangerous wild-looking men.

Kazz strides purposefully towards the caravan, his shadowy companion flowing along beside him. Despite the early morning sun, no shadows touch the ground behind either one.

Stopping short near the others, he pauses, his teal eyes passing over each one in turn. He is silent for a moment, his gaze darts to his companion as if in response to a comment never uttered.

The young Kayal turns back to the others, "You two look at home enough in the rough country. I imagine that will serve us well."

He looks at the young woman, "And what takes you so far from civilization, my lady?"

"I like to wander, this land's getting stale, thought it may be time to make a new one, since the opportunity presents itself."
Sirsi is curious about the stranger, and keeps glancing at where his shadow should be.

Kazz shrugs, a slight smile on his lips, "A simple enough goal. My name is Kazz, I shall do what I can to ensure you reach that new land in one peace."

He gestures to the creature beside him, "My companion is Ammanas, my guide in the darkness." The shadowy figure seems to make what might constitute a bow towards the others.

Kearan smiles as he approaches the caravan and stands near the others. "I guess so. Kearan. Folks call me Short." He extends a hand in greeting.

"Sirsi, Singer, wanderer and free-spirit, At your service." Sirsi gives a little bow.

Kearan smiles as he approaches the caravan and stands near the others. "I guess so. Kearan. Folks call me Short." He extends a hand in greeting.

Kazz hesitates for a fraction of a second before grasping the offered hand in a firm grip. He looks up at the tall woodsman, "I've no doubt..."

Dalgar only offers up a nod, standing apart from the rest. He studys the rest of you for the moment before looking away and observing the far horizon.

"Dalgar."

Leading his horse through the throng, Magnus Booms,

"Make way! Coming through!"

Striding through the crowd, his warhorse in tow, is a very broad man with shocking red hair and furs betraying his ulfen heritage.

"Phew! Thought I'd miss the caravan for a moment there. Got lost in prayer. Hello! Hello! We all accepting the charter from Lord Rostov? Nice to meet you all"

before you know it, he's swept you all up in a massive bear hug.

"Ha! I'm Magnus Leifson, son of Leif Erickson! This here is Mjolnir, the finest Horse in the kingdom," he strokes the horse automatically, soothing the beast that is obviously fretting at proximity of the crowds."I can see we're all going to get on just fine! Are we ready to go yet?!

Kearan steps back deftly as Magnus moves in for the hug, avoiding his sweeping arms. He looks over the man and wonders at his attempt; Kearan is just as tall as the Ulfen, and is in fact slightly broader in frame. "Kearan. The Short. I think we're waiting."

Kazz looks mildly ill as the big man squeezes him. Once free he takes a moment to compose himself before responding, "Kazz...pleasure. I do expect we should be underway soon."

Ammanas shifts to Kazz's other side, further away from the enthusiastic man and his horse.

"Well, Kearan, Kazz; this is turning into a fine quest, is it not? I'm a paladin of Erastil, by the way. I'm guessing you, Kearan, are a warrior of some description. Ha! I'd wager you'd be a tough opponent in a wrestling match! and judging by the strange creature lurking about your feet, you, Kazz, must be some kind of Mage, yes? What about the rest of you?"

Kearan lets out a laugh, surprisingly quiet for such a large man. "I'm no warrior. A lumberer, woodcutter. Camp boxing champ, but rarely in a real fight."

Dalgar shrugs. His attention on the skies above, his mind in silent contemplation.

"Herbalist"

His quiet voice though deep seems to echo from this massive man's body.

"As I just mentioned before you arrived, I'm a singer and a wanderer. I can handle a sword, have some small magics and can be passably quiet when the mood strikes."

Kazz merely adjusts the black composit bow on his back, "I'm a man of many talents. And you a proud cavelryman?"

"Hah! Anything I can hit with my Lance is dead meat! The trouble is in hitting it". Magnus turns to Sirsi
"A Jack of all trades! Very handy!. Always useful to have someone who can be quiet!". in a loud whisper, he adds, "I can't."

Kazz raises a thin eyebrow, "Truly, I'm shocked sir..."

He smiles at Sirsi though, "Though I'll be more than happy to add my silence to yours should the need arise, my lady."

Dalgar moves slightly further away from the Loud mouthed Human. He's certainly very loud.

Kazz looks around, "Well, four I was told to meet and four are here now. I'd best speak to the driver about getting this managerie moving."

Kazz moves off to locate someone in charge, Ammanas flowing silently behind him.

Finding his target he draws alongside them, "I believe, my companions and I are ready to depart. When can we expect to be moving on?"

The trader at the front of the caravan looks at him and motions to a group of guardsheading towards them. "I was just waiting for them. In fact I was about to tell you to get ready. We'll be leaving, and we should be at Olegs in six hours"

[OoC] the journey is extremely uneventful. If there is something you wish to do while underway feel free, but I'm going to post the arrival now, to keep things going.

As the day goes on, and the adventurers mingle, the landscape changes, becoming less and less cultivated. As the sun hangs low in the sky, the caravan rides into what seems to be an old border fort. A 120 ft long 10 foot high palisade wall cornered by two twenty ft watchtowers looms in front of you. In the middle a large wooden gate about thirty ft wide is currently opened. The caravan goes through the gate, revealing a rather simple little trading post built inside the fortress.

oleg's

As the caravan pulls to a halt you are greeted by a striking woman, in her late twenties perhaps, wearing what at first look seems to be a simple farm wife's dress, but to those that are observant is clearly made with some of the finest materials imaginable. She greets you warmly, with a thick Rostland accent. Hello, hello. Velcome. My name ies Svetlana Leveton. Velcome to Oleg's. You must be the guards that... As she takes a closer look her face saddens a bit. Ah, you are not, zis is unfortunate. Yet, welcome anyway. Hardy adventurers always find a place here

She guides towards the main hall. Come, I have food, you must be hungry. She then looks thoughtful. Vould you be ze Adventurers sent zu explore ze Greenbelt then? A glimmer of hope returns to her eyes.

The only other person visible at the moment is a man kneeling on the roof of one of the buildings, apparently thatching it.

Dalgar sits in quiet meditation as the journey continues, not moving at all until the journey ends. His breathing slows and it seems he's reached the stage of hibernation but remains alert.

Hearing the caravan stops, he remains still until the rest alights, not speaking a word at all, trusting in the others to speak and knowing his brother to be more forthcoming.

Sirsi finds some amusement on the way at good-naturedly taunting Magnus, asking when she can have a turn riding his mighty stallion.
If he doesn't respond she'll soon get bored and start singing a quiet travelling tune.

Upon arriving she greets the woman "Yes we be the adventurers sent to explore the Greenbelt, are you having problems here?"

Kearan steps off the wagon gracefully enough, especially for a man of his size, and rolls his shoulders as the woman approaches. He stands by, looking around, checking the construction of the outpost. He gives a small bow at Svetlana's greeting, and shrugs at her question as he follows her. "I guess we are."

Kazz nods, "We are indeed here for the charter. Though it sounds to me you were hoping for others?"

His gaze sweeps over the interior of the fort, "Things seem rather quiet here, what need has driven you to send for guardsmen?"

Magnus good-naturedly banters with Sirsi alonmg the way, though some of her cleverness clearly passes him by. In between conversation, he takes in the scenery, remarking in a loud voice,

"Ah! It's good to out in the country again!"

When they arrive, Magnus begins stretching and rolling his shoulders, working out the aches of the journey before stepping off the Cart. hearing the conversation, he immediately exclaims,

"What's this? A damsel in distress! Good lady, only tell us what ails you, and we shall do all we can to aid you!"

Dalgar exits last, his massive size towering over their host. His gaze is calm and he smiles slightly to ensure that he means her no harm.
"Over dinner shall we speak shall we??"

He waits patiently for his host to response.

"Come come, ve eat, den ve talk. Ze night ies still young, and you must be hungry. Alzo, Oleg should be done soon" She walks ahead of the group muttering to herself a bit. The words Oleg and stubborn can be heard, as well as a few swear words in Rostland dialect.

As they walk into the room, where bread, cheese, fruits, and cold cuts are laid out, Svetlana points to the table, and then walks into another room, instantly coming back with a big pot smelling of beef, onion and mushroom.

"Oleg and I asked ze city for help,as ve have been attacked by ruffians. Zey demand our goods.Zey come every month, on the same day, at ze same time. But ze troops Restov prommised vill not be here for a while yet."

Kazz frowns, "Pathetic scavengers, the Greenbelt will be better for their feeding the crows."

He looks at Yolanda, "We may not be those you petitioned for but I dare say we'll serve well enough. We've come to properly chart the Greenbelt...restoring some order to these lands is an added bonus. When are these petty bandits expected, my lady?"

The kayal looks to his companions, "I'm sure you'll agree we simply must give them proper reception?"

Dalgar looks impassive as he slowly takes his meal.
"Aye. The meal is good."

After the meal, Dalgar will look around the fort abit.
Perception1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Kearan sits slowly and nods to Svetlana, then tears the bread in half and murmurs a brief prayer to Gozreh. He smiles and accepts the stew, dipping his bread into it and gratefully swallowing. He eats with surprising civility for a woodsman, although he doesn't seem to use silverware--instead he drinks the stew from the bowl. "Thank you, Lady Svetlana. When are these bandits coming next?"

Aye, if they're coming soon, I dare say we can spare the time to have a little chat with them, see if we can get them to move on."
Sirsi happily tucks into her stew.

"No no no" A voice came from the doorway. "These ruffians mean business, and I don't want my outpost in ashes, or worse my Svetlana in the hands of these beasts just because some wet behind the ears whippersnappers want to play hero. We'll just pay them their dues tomorrow, and hope the guards arrive before the next time."

A man dressed in simple workman's garb (real this time) walks in. He looks to be in his early forties, and though his face is sunburnt and besotted, the regal features of Rostland nobility are undeniable.

Svetlana looks at her husband. "Oleg, go wash up, you cannot join our guests like that" Then as her husband leaves, muttering under his breath, she turns to the group and tells of what happened.

The bandits’ first visit was 3 months ago—they
threatened to burn down the trading post and abduct
Svetlana for their own amusements back at their camp
if the Levetons didn’t agree to hand over all of the furs
and trade goods they’d accumulated over the past month
from hunters and trappers.
Since then, the bandits have returned twice more, each time
within an hour of sunrise on the first day of the month.
The Levetons have learned to have their “taxes” ready and
hand them over quickly—the bandits usually seem eager
to return to their camp somewhere in the Greenbelt,
which makes Svetlana think their camp is about a day’s
ride away.
The first time the bandits visited, there were a dozen
of them—10 lower-ranking thugs led by a cloaked man
armed with a bow, and a woman who carried two small
hatchets. The woman did the majority of the talking
on that first trip, and her black sense of humor and
the way she smiled when she spoke of what fate would
await Svetlana if the Levetons didn’t comply frightened
Svetlana all the more. The woman also seemed to be
particularly sharp and observant, whereas the man
seemed to be a bit more crude and foolish. This, plus the
fact that the woman quite nearly lopped off Oleg’s right
hand with one of her hatchets in a cruel bit of mockery,
convinced the Levetons that she was the most dangerous
of the bandits. As it was, the woman took Svetlana’s
wedding ring right off her hand and tossed it to one of
her men as payment for “not shortening Oleg’s reach.”
On the second and third visit, only the crude hooded
man accompanied the bandits. The second visit, he
came with only six other men, while on the third he only
came with four. The Levetons suspect that the bandits
have let down their guard and think the owners of the
trading post are completely cowed. Hopefully, when
they visit tomorrow they’ll be even fewer in number, and
hopefully the scary woman with the hatchets won’t be
with them.

Dalgar washes down the remaining of the meal with sweet mead before turning to Svetlana. Speaking very slowly, his voice rumbling from within, a comforting tone if you're of mind to take a nap.

"You have fed and watered us. It's only right that we do something in return. Our charter indicates that bandits are to be killed." Turning to see if he hasn't put his listeners to sleep, he continues at a slightly faster speed "If they plead mercy and forswear off banditry, would you accept them as workers?"

"I'll leave it to you to decide."
Turning after his parting words, Dalgar will now move around the fort trying to learn its layout.

"Bandits should be dealt with," Kearan agrees simply. He finishes off his bread and bows again to his hosts. "My thanks, and my service." With that he joins his brother in scouting the fort. "We could climb these walls with little trouble," he suggests, "Get a good look at these bandits as they approach."

Dalgar agrees with his brother's accessment with a nod.

"Good call. It seems like we may have to engage in an ambush though climbing up these walls and back down quickly is going to take some work. I truly dislike having to do things quickly. I should think that perhaps the gates can be bared?"

Kazz finishes his meal slowly, considering all he has heard.

He snorts as Dalgar's comment of taking the bandits as workers, "The oaths of bandits will do little good so long as they have a camp to go back to. They'll slink off like dogs in the night as soon as the opportunity presents itself. At best we could hold them as prisoners until we route out their companions, truly the sword is a far simpler option."

Ammanas follows the the brothers outside, the shadowy figure hovering near to them as they talk.

Kearan shrugs. "Speed is helpful on occasion. But yes... if we can be near the walls, we could climb to the other side and shut the doors behind the bandits, then return over them to fight."

"If any of you be skilled tracker, perhaps we'd be better paying them off and then following them back to camp. If there's too many to deal with at the camp, we could pick them off in smaller groups when they head out.
If we can manage to pick off the leaders, the rest may well be more pliable."

Kazz's intense gaze turns to the young elf, "I fear bandits may be as accomplished in the woods as our gruff brothers. If we've the skill to track them we'd likely be better served backtracking the group that comes seeking tribute. Easier still to simply have one of them tell us where the rest make camp once we have them in hand. Not to mention it will help us thin their numbers without risk of being discovered skulking around their camp and bringing their full strength down on us unprepared."

Sorry guys, thought I'd checked for responses yesterday, perhaps I didn't

Magnus eats heartily and noisily. In between mouthfuls he speaks, punctuating the air with a chicken leg for emphasis.

"I'm with Kazz! They are already foresworn on all that is good <munch> and right by taking up as bandits, and we have a duty to rid this land of banditry, the punishment for which is death.<slurp> Sad as it may be, it is impractical to take then as workers, <gobble> they may try to overpower this place when our backs are turned, <munch> and I would not see these good people put in jeopardy by our carelessness. <Num,Num> Nor do we have the resources to ship them back to Restov, where they will be executed. No, our course is clear; <munch, munch> we have the charters declaration that as agents of Restov we are to mete out justice and the punishment for banditry is death. It is also Erastil's way. Can I have some more cheese. Ooh, I do like cheese. Sirsi is also correct, <Slurp> we should try to pull them out of their camp and ambush them. But first <gobble> we must meet them on the field of combat tomorrow. <num, num> You need not fear them running away; Mjolnir and I can chase them down.<munch> So, it's decided then, we will meet these miscreants tomorrow!"

[ooc] The layout of the fort can be seen on the map. The only places that seem to be obscured from view enough to ambush the bandits while they're inside the fort, are the stables (against the west wall) and the guesthouse. (south east, which Oleg was thatching earlier)

Svetlana nods"very vell, ief you vant to help us, ve vill not deny you. Ien exchange, ve vill provide you vith food and board for the rest of ze veek" She looks at the table "Zey should arrive at sunset. Ve vill let zem ien, and zen, vhen zey are loading up, you have a chance to ambush zem, how ies zat?" She looks at the three remaining at the table. Perhaps your comrades vill find a good spot?