Leinathan/mdt's Kingmaker (Inactive)

Game Master leinathan

Other replies pending as I need sleep.

"Slavery."
Wyssal stands in front of the Council, his stare fixed on Wilhelm.
"There is talk about laws creating and allowing 'indentured servitude' and other ways of disguised slavery. I would like to see a Paladin of Iomedae trying to defend laws that turns free good people into slaves, just because of a bad harvest, a sick child or a business misfortune. I don't see how you can promote laws that defend the rich and powerful against the poor, when the law should be the other way around, defending the good humble common people against tyranny and despotism of the powerful."

4th of Sarenith,

Dareon stands, raising a hand and throwing it up at the little halfling, his eyebrows creasing inwards. "Now, hold on Wyssal. We aren't intending to simply throw people in irons when they run out of money. If that happens, they face the misfortunes that life itself presents - selling their own house, a child dying, their business failing. The indentured servitude is intended more for criminals. It's supposed to make them re-pay their debt to society. If you have a better option, I'd like to hear it, of course, but it's what we've come up with as the most productive and fairest solution."

"I am glad to hear that. But, who is a criminal? What crimes will cause a person to lose his freedom? I have been in "civilized" lands, like Restov, and seen honest people die from exposure outside of empty houses. I have heard of lands where a hungry child loses his hand for the crime of stealing a piece of bread. But the miscreants that steal a widow's last copper by selling food for her children at exorbitant prices are celebrated and recognized. Which criminals are we taking about? Which justice courts decide it? Which judges? Who stands for the poor, and face the powerful?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 27

"The defense of the poor is always the most difficult of tasks, Wyssal. After all, if they face a disadvantage, then it's hardly a matter of playing a completely fair and even system, otherwise they will never be able to overcome their disadvantage." Roan interjects into the conversation as his brother comes under some measure of attack. However, his tone stays even, and non-aggressive.

"But as I understand it, the indenture is also supposed to be a way to help those in trying times. If a child is stealing food to survive, yes we will still punish them. The law cannot afford to have exceptions based on the court's pity, that pity typically ends up being bought by the rich more than it helps the poor after all. But through his service to the state, the child will then be fed, and kept healthy so that both they're life improves and that they may serve the state more effectively. In addition, once their term is up, they'll have had a chance to learn more economical skills, and in many cases, may seek proper employment from their same workplace, with their supervisors aware of their work ethic, experience, and drive." As what mostly seems to be an aside, Roan also states. "Of course, the law is also more likely to be lenient to the young for their youth after all."

"Maybe is difficult. But I accept the challenge. I will defend them. The common people live hard lives, but they do it with hope and strength. They don't need help, they just need freedom to pursue their way of life. Their own quest for happiness. Is that too much to ask? So we are going to help the poor by enslaving them? That is the solution? Make poverty a crime? That is all the people of your kingdom is? Workers? Slaves? And I repeat, who will impart justice? Who will prevent the rich to abuse the poor?"

"Stop, Wyssal." Dareon says. The smile has dropped from his face, and his hand has fallen to his side. He looks to Wyssal with serious, impassive eyes. "You treat us like we are the tyrannical leaders of Cheliax, seizing hundreds of halflings to work onboard their trade ships."

"Do not assume any such thing."

He gestures to those around him - the ruling class of Domierov. "You have to understand that we are on the same side as you, and that you, standing there, yelling exaggerations at us about our policies, is going to get you only farther away from ingratiating yourself with us. We do not criminalize poverty, only theft. We do not enslave, we ask for repayment. And last I checked, I asked for a better solution, and all that you offered were more insults."

"We cannot defend our people with idealism, as much as we would wish it. We cannot enforce laws by wishing them so and assuming that people will follow them. And these are not the River Kingdoms. This is Domierov, and as much as we want to keep the culture of the area vibrant, we will enforce our vision of what we want from Domierov. If you have a specific plan that you believe is superior to ours, go ahead, out it."

"Amaze us."

"I apologize if I talk like you are tyrants and slavers. You are not. You came and helped the people. You liberated them from the rule of bandits. But if you are not careful the laws you implement can allow the ones coming after you to slave and exploit the people. The laws you make need to prevent tyranny from growing here, as it has sprung in so many other places. I am able to come here and talk to you because you are different. But you need to create something that outlive you. Amuse you? Create an independent system of judges. Judges taken from the people, not the elites. Judges able to stand against the powerful. Judges able to stand even against a king. Judges that do now bow before the law, but strive towards justice! Put the justice even over yourselves!"

A flicker of a smirk dances across Roan's impassive face as Dareon jumps in, his lips moving in an utterance of some kind.

The face slips back towards its typical impassive persona. "A fair enough idea, Miss, though I was under the impression we were talking about the system of indenture, not the court system. And last I had checked, we had made no move for the judges to be pulled from any one particular class. Regardless, let's not tackle two topics at once, shall we?" The Iroran follower keeps his commentary short, in order to give the actual leader more chance to retort.

"No, you have not said anything about the judges and the way to discern the innocent from the guilty. Not about leniency. Not about how to monitor the judges. Only the punishment."
Ok, I think debate can go on for ages. I think its about time to make some decisions, and get exploring, don't you think?

Yep, as soon as everyone is ready, let's do it.

Roan leans in and whispers to Wilhelm. "Good, but don't let her control the conversation's flow. Responding to her rhetoric gives her the initiative to dictate the course of the debate, and you know how deadly it can be when the enemy is the one choosing the course of events."

Wyssal nods.
"If any of the "property owners" have an issue with my activities, I hope they come to me and don't take away the time this council has to deal with important issues. I am sure any person that talks to me will see the value of my activities, and will allow them, support them, and even help me do them."

The Growth of Domierov, Erastus

To think that barely a half a year ago, this stretch of a land was a sparsely-inhabited, plain field, filled with wild flowers and riddled by prarie dog-holes. Strange, yeah?

Looking over the spreading, worn dirt roads and the wood and stone buildings rising into the sky, you wouldn't think so. To close your eyes and listen to the susurrus of thousands of voices, bartering, bickering, fighting, loving, you wouldn't think so.

But Domierov's founders know. They were here, and for the past six months, they've been cajoling people into coming, having audiences for those with issues, beating down unrest, hiring guards, and overall doing everything that it takes to administer a kingdom. Not that any of them know, or anything. But rulership is hard for everyone.

Even for those who quit.

Wyssal "newspaper" and "secret project" is going to be working about that time, so I am gessing her get ear of the horrible news. Please tell me if I am mistaken.
Wyssal was supervising the printing of the invitations for the official "opening" of her printing/newspaper business, taking special care in the invitations for the council, when one of his "reporters" came to her with the news.
Bej, murdered? He was one of the "liberators" of Domierov! He renounced power and went back to earth, something Wyssal profoundly respected. Murdered!
Wyssal swear to herself she would expose not only the killer, but the real reason for the murder. Probably some sinister force working in the shadows, trying to destroy whatever little liberty and security existed in this parts!
She gathered her meager "news" corps.
"Drop everything! I need all of you to stop whatever you where working on and concentrate on this! I need to know who did it. We also need information about him. Who was him? What did he resign government? We need his friends and neighbors to tell us how was his life. Good stuff, what things he made to help. Tomorrow's edition is going to be purely about him. Get to work. I will go to the farm, and get whatever information I can from there. Tim, you are coming with me and bring a lot of paper! And if you get ANY information about who did it, bring it out to me immediately."
After seeing his team start to move, she sit down in a chair, and silently let out a tear out. Why? It didn't made sense. It was not fair. He didn't deserve that.
In that moment she took a decision. Her "secret" project. It would be named after him.
She would find his murderer. She grab her stuff (even weapons) and go out, together with Tim Chekov, her "star" reporter.
She would find the culprit!

Roan stares at the report in his hand overlong, then sighs. Folding the paper up, he stands up and marches out his door. Speaking to his wait staff as he exits, he notifies them. "Send any callers away, I'll be gone for the day, possibly longer."

Pressing quickly towards Wilhelm's residence, Roan enters the steady jog that marks his passing, incanting the short passage from Unbinding the Fetters as he begins.

Casting Tireless Pursuit

Upon reaching Wilhelm's, Roan sees himself pushed past as many servants and guards as quickly as possible. Upon finally meeting his brother, the Iroran thrusts the report to Wilhelm wordlessly. It almost seems that upon delivering the report, that Roan is going to leave immediately, but then, pausing at the door, Roan murmurs. "I suppose I got too careless, having other people to inform me of the goings on here. I won't make that mistake again. I may be gone for a few days. And... I'm sorry, Wilhelm. I'll let you decide how to disperse the information." With that, the spymaster leaves.

After that, his first order of business is to set out towards Bej's farm at his faster than normal pace. There, he surveys the scene, looking for any and all traces of what could have happened.

Casting Deadeye's Lore and Bloodhound
Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28+8 if scent related
Survival (to track scents): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (17) + 15 = 32

Roan runs (quite literally) into Wyssal and her page on the road to Bej's farm, which is a couple of miles away from the edge of the town proper. They exchange quick greetings and speed away towards Bej's farm community.

Once they get there, they really can see why he would have liked it there. It's a multi-building complex with a large, well-irrigated field just adjacent. There appears to be a main house (barely more opulent than the other two, though obviously the farm owner's house) and two more houses for farmhands, and it looks like there's room for at least ten individuals to live there. There's also a large building, barnlike, that contains several large steel vats for the purpose of cider brewing.

The scene, however, is hardly pleasant at the moment. Ravens circle overhead, crowing their victory over the numerous dead present in the area. At least five men and women lie dead outdoors, their bodies seemingly torn limb from limb by something huge and clawed. Investigating the inside of the house reveals a new paintjob in blood. A young woman, clad in the simple dress of a housemaid, lies dead in front of the door, her hand still gripping the door that she held open. Stuck in the doorframe just behind you as you enter are two arrows, and investigating further into the house reveals a shattered table and a spice cabinet that's broken and fallen to the ground in the kitchen. Four more arrows can be found in this room, though two are on the ground and two are stuck into the walls.

The back door is open, beyond the kitchen in a small hallway that also connects to a stairwell, leading up. Just outside the back door, lying on his back and missing an arm and most of his neck, is Bej. A broken longbow lies at his feet, a half-empty quiver on his back, and a bloodied battleaxe is still gripped in his hand. His missing left arm lies about five feet away, open-handed and rotting in the sun.

Roan is able to find a trail of blood, then, from his corpse that leads in a circle back around the house and to the courtyard in front of the house, and it draws a line in between the corpses of the five farmhands that lie dead outside, and then tracks back out of the farm community and back towards civilization.

Another thing that Roan is able to tell is that there is a scent other than that of the farmhands, Bej, and his housekeeper, though it's...two different ones. He sniffs all over the farm, and there is one scent that covers Bej's body and wounds, but a completely different line of scents crossing the courtyard. Both scents are present right at the front door to Bej's house, though.

I assume these arrows are sized for what I'd assume to be a medium sized bow? Going to write with that assumption for now.

Roan combs over the area with speed, yet a great deal of thoroughness. After searching the perimeter, Roan returns to the porch of the house and sits down with a sigh. Looking to Wyssal, the spymaster presents his thoughts. "Well, it's either a very good ruse, or a very poorly covered attack. Clearly, this is indeed a murder, not merely a tragic attack by animals. And clearly, it was premeditated, this was no sudden fit of passion..." The summary gives way to a cold analysis of the scene.

"The first thing of notice is the contradictions in the wounds. Some of these appear to be from an animal or animals, clear signs of tooth and claw working. Yet there's the arrows, and the housemaid held open the door as though to invite someone inside. So in this, we can be certain at least that man and beast worked together on this." The inquisitor stands and begins pacing the yard. "There's also a scent on the air... gods help me that I have to be grateful that the corpses of the victims are still here rotting for me to smell. But there's two distinct scents, no more than that, we can be rather certain that this was a pair, one man, one beast."

"I can't say I really knew him personally, but from what I was told about Bej, he was a very reputable arcanist, and a warrior too. He was not a combatant to be taken easily. One could argue that he was taken by surprise, and he likely was, but he had time to arm himself, and work his way through about half his quiver. He was not taken sleeping or completely unawares... whoever did this was a very skilled individual. The most damning thing is the lack of bodies of attackers, there'd at least be one or two amongst the fallen who were not civilians. Nor are their any war animals to be found. The attacker was a human, or similarly sized, you can tell by the arrows. And while horses are a common war animal of creatures of my height, rarely are animals that cause wounds such as these to be found. Halflings ride dogs and such into battle from what I know, but the arrows and their size indicate that the attacker was larger than that."

Sighing, the man concludes. "All signs point to this being the work of a druid. A single person, a single beast. Not a common man or some mongrel beast either, otherwise they would have died in the fighting almost assuredly against a talented individual like Bej, or at the very least, not have been swift enough to kill everyone before at least one person could have escaped... And impersonating a druid is almost impossible, as very few have beasts as accomplished as theirs, a man could attack with a trained hound, but without the forces of magic to help aid the creature, the carnage is unlikely to be this complete. See this trail of blood? It leads to Bej's body, it looks like the man was dragged some distance before he was killed behind the yard, and whatever it was was big enough to rip his arm free... neither things that your average dog could accomplish to a man his size. Either this is an expert farce, or this is a druid who didn't care to cover their involvement, or couldn't before they needed to flee investigation."

"The motive also fits for some of their kind. Few would hate a farmer enough to kill them in cold blood. They may deride and insult them for their common work, but few would take offense to a man's taming the land and sculpting it to his will... except for those who wish to see the wild places untouched by the chains man would put on them." While obviously not enjoying the scene, it's fairly clear that Roan is a man rather used to the sight and smell of butchery and decay by the rather passive and calm way he speaks of the situation.

The sound of heavy horse trotting up to the farmhouse and the a low canine growl announced the arrival of Rowan. Grimacing as he observes the bodies, he raises his hand in greeting to the others though his expression remains the same. "Roan, my lady and gentleman", he greets his companion and the two strangers. "I didn't realize so much time has passed by... I came as soon as Falchos sent word of Bej's death. Have you found any clues as to who is responsible?" Argos stops growling as Rowan speaks, it's obvious the large dog dislikes the smell of the area not the people currently there.

Roan grimaces, figuring the picture he paints may not go over well with another druid, but sticks to his story. "Some of the wounds are clearly caused by an animal of some kind, others from a bow." Roan holds up one of the arrows. "I used magic to heighten my senses, and there's two distinct smells that do not belong to the victims. Based on these facts primarily, I believe this may be the work of a druid and its animal companion. I cannot imagine a domestic beast that does not heed to a druidic master being capable enough to give an accomplished mage and warrior like what I've heard of Bej being able to do anything against him."

Just a quick clarification: None of the victims have any arrows stuck in them. The arrows are all stuck into the walls of Bej's house.

Rowan examines the scene thoroughly. Roan was a great tracker from what he's witnessed before but some of the clues seemed off. "None of the victims were shot with a bow. The two in the doorway imply Bej may have shot at the murderer as he entered the farmhouse. Half his quiver is gone and six are in the house... he only hit four times." He examines the arrows in the house and makes sure they match the ones in Bej's quiver.

"I assumed a previous killing was commited by a druid and I was wrong. Roan, there are other possibilities... lycanthropes for example. Bej was also a faithful of ol' Deadeye. I believe a druid would respect that and talk to him first if he was interfering with nature. Give me a while to examine the area."

Taking 20 on Perception to examine the crime scene for a total result of 40, even if it takes the rest of the day.

After meticulously combing the area, Rowan builds a funeral pyre for Bej and his household. He says the prayers of Erastil's guidance for the deceased, that they may forever live and hunt in his blessed lands. Voice heavy with grief and worn down physically and mentally, Rowan spends the night sleeping fitfully in the barn, Argos loyally keeping watch over him.

Rowan, what are you looking for? I've already described the crime scene to you.

Little details like any patches of fur or scales, how large the creature may be in relation to the size of claw marks, any noticable teeth patterns, abnormal foot prints, spilt spell components, etc...

Roan shrugs. "I'm not saying that this is the only possibility. These are just the clues that I've found as to who did it, as you asked for. And while Bej may have followed Deadeye, that does not mean his aggressor chose his target wisely, he may well have attacked for deed they found offensive, not character. Regardless, this is just the first thought to cross my mind, not my conclusion."

Though now I realize I misread that bit about the arrows... so my theory is a little baseless right now. :P

There is no fur, nor are there scales, though there are little splinters of what looks like pitch-black nails in Bej's wounds, as well a few of the wounds of the six other deceased.

It's also quite obvious that the line of blood that leads from Bej isn't thick enough to be a blood smear, and is a noticeably different colour than the colour of Bej's blood, or any of his human farmhands - it's too dark, almost purple. All of the wounds were made by the same-sized creature, and the claw/bite marks are quite a bit larger than you'd expect from, say, a wolf or another creature of a similar size to a human.

"I understand that Roan. My initial guess appears to be wrong as well." He points to the odd colored blood stains and holds up a piece of pitch-black nail for hom to examine. "I don't think this is from a human or were-creature. The injuries are much larger than something appropriate for human-size. Any ideas what it could be?"

Knowledge Nature: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

Roan looks at the blood a bit closer than before. "Hard for me to say, I've been dedicated to fighting men most my life, not monsters." Despite the statement lacking confidence, Roan still looks at the evidence and tries to think back on it.

Kn. Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

"Regardless of what it is, I have its scent, we should be able to track it out of here with any luck."

Fhârn sat in his office, on the second floor of his house. Munin had brought him grim news this morning, and the fury he felt had yet subsided. Bej. Murdered. To hell with reformation, someone fill bleed for this ... He slammed his armoured fist into the table. He had prepared for battle, but there was no foe to challenge. Yet. He knew Roan had ridden out - and he was confident that he would find the guilty. And so he waited.

The raven glided trough the air. He could already smell the familiar scent of carrion - so he was close. The farm was merely a few hundred feet away. He quickly covered the distance and circled it, searching. There! The two still living men and their companions.

Munin deftly landed on Rowans shoulder, trusting the druid to know better then strike a scavenger out of grief. "*Caw!* Master wonders if you found anything yet?"

The raven listens to their theories before nodding.

"Is there any message you wish to convey back? I must hurry with this information."

Don't burn the corpses before we get a chance to use Speak with the Dead :)

Wyssal greets Roan seriously when they find on the road.
"As a member of the community I want to thank you for your quickness in coming to investigate the crime, and offer my help in whatever that can be useful to you on this grave hour. "
She follows him trying to be useful and using her sift cantrip frequently to examine the scene without disturbing it, taking notes all the while. She ask Tim to go to the adjacent farms and houses to check if someone saw or hear anything. She tries go discern if any of them was eaten.
Knowledge Nature: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
She tries to remember anything from the help.
Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22
When Roan returns she starts scribbling rapidly.
6 victims besides Master Ben... Huge and clawed... 1 woman inside... Eaten? Back to the town? 2 assasins? Roan of Irori - "the Bloodhound"... Murder, no animals attack, 1 human, 1 animal... Concealed?... One one? Druid? Cannibal? Lycanthrope?
She tries to recall any druids or big animals in town, or strange people arriving in the last few days...
Using her lore master ability to take 20 immediately: 28

Neither Rowan nor Roan nor Wyssal are able to discern what the claws come from or the bite wounds, though Roan and Rowan notice that a few of the bite marks have begun to fester in a very specific way - like they're infected with something.

Give me a Heal check to identify the festering wounds.

When Tim comes back, more than an hour later (the 'neighboring farms' are more than a mile distant) he reports that none of them were eaten, or attacked, nor did they hear anything. It was when one of the young sons of the farmers directly to the east came to Bej's farm to ask for some obscure tool to get fixed with his magic that they discovered he was dead, and it was this young man that got sent into Domierov to give the news to Baron Wilhelm.

Wyssal doesn't really know what "druids" look like in general, but she doesn't really remember any particularly large animals coming into town, and since the influx of people is so large, it's difficult to pinpoint specific "strange people" as migrants.

Heal Check (untrained): 1d20 ⇒ 11
Wyssal tries to remember what she knows about Lycantropes, and guess if this was work of one.
Knowledge Check (any): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
To Rowan and Roan she says:
"I don't recall any big beast coming into town, so I guess the animal that did this was concealed magically, or was some kind of shapeshifter. What about the tracks going into town? Can we follow them? Are they human?"

Anastacia's life is nothing, if not busy. The spiritual needs of the growing community are endless. In addition, the young cleric spends all her free time learning the teachings of gods, other than Pharasma. Her flock has needs other than birth and death. As High Priestess, it is Anastacia's duty to provide for those as well.

Even the most driven of people must take a break from time to time, though. Anastacia decides to take a ride in the country. Perhaps to swing by Bej's farm. See how the old fellow is doing, and perhaps have a game of chess. At any rate, she can check on the well being of the other farmers in the area as well. So not a complete dereliction of duty.

Rising at dawn, Anastacia saddles Avalanche, her large dapple-grey charger, and rides out of town. She takes a circuitous route to Bej's place, stopping to visit a couple of other homesteaders. Finally, in the early afternoon, Anastacia arrives on the scene. She first notices the circling of the carrion birds. A clue to the fact that something is amiss. Kneeing Avalanche to a faster gait, Anastacia sees the bodies littering the yard, then Rowan and Roan, and a halfling she knows by reputation, though they have not yet to had a chance to speak. (Assumes that they would stop investigating to see who was cantering up.)

"Hello Rowan. Roan. Ms... What's happened here?" Anastacia steps down from the saddle with practiced ease. 'Where's Bej?"

Wyssal eyes are sad.
"I am afraid he was murdered, Priestess... Maybe you can help us figure out who did it..."

"Oh no! Bej is dead?" Anastacia's eye leaks a tear. She had enjoyed the time spent with the gruff northerner as they explored the lands around Oleg's. "Murdered."
"These are dark times. Yes, I'll call on Pharasma, when the sun sets. By her will, Bej's soul can return and speak to us. Unless he was killed from behind, he will have seen his attacker and can tell us who it was. Anastacia is schooled in stoicism, in the face of death. It is very much a part of her profession, after all, but Bej will be missed. The loss hurts much more than it shows.

"I am not sure he will be able... he was... his body is in a bad shape..."

"He went down fighting, if that's any solace." Roan sighs.

So... Wyssal thinks it was work of a Lycantrophe?

Does she? That's up to you.

And now that I remember it.

Heal (Untrained): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Are you sure that's an infection? I'm not sure...

I mean if her Knowledge (Any) 17 lets her remember something that points to a Lycantrophe as the culprit.
Wyssal finish scrabbling some notes. She turns to Roan...
"Can you follow it's tracks? Try to see where did it go?"

I mean, she knows that lycanthropes have claws and teeth, and can shapeshift at will (given that they were born that way).

Roan nods. "Assuming it cannot hide its trail magically, there's very little I cannot track, so long as the trail is still fresh, part of my reason for my haste out here. But whoever did this is something I'm not keen on encountering alone. Perhaps its time to see how well Dante's training has taken amongst his men..."

Anastacia takes a moment to examine Bej.

Heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

She collects Bej's severed arm and lays it next to him, then heads upstairs, looking for a bedroom. For now the corpses will need covered. Bedsheets and blankets will suffice, temporarily.
The possibility exists, that this crime may just have been a robbery. While she tends to dead, Anastacia looks for signs that the building was searched, or ransacked.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27
Maybe this should be an aid other roll for Rowan, I can't beat a 40, no matter what I do. :)

"The fresher the tracks, the easier to follow, perhaps we should try to trace them now..."

"Yes, we must not let the Assassin or assasins escape! After we Locate them we can decide what to do next... "