Motteditor's Kingmaker campaign (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor


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RPG Superstar 2014 Top 16, RPG Superstar 2012 Top 16

"And I hereby grant you six this charter, to explore the Greenbelt for the Swordlords of Restov. Gods grant you their favor."

With a final flourish, Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius handed over copies of rolled parchment to each of the six men and women in his receiving chamber.

The ceremony on the 24th of Calistril, with a bard quietly playing music in one corner while servants passed around trays of succulent meats and sweet pastries, is nothing but a warm memory now.

It's been nearly 100 miles -- four long, muddy days of walking -- since then. And while fellow travelers on the South Rostland Road were frequent the first two days, the last two have passed with none but yourselves -- still strangers for the most part -- for company. Fortunately, the weather has been relatively mild, with the miles of walking keeping you warm, though the freshly thawed road has coated your feet and legs with mud.

Breaking camp in the morning, you expect to arrive at your destination, a remote trading post that day, possibly in time for lunch. And then your real task will begin. The words of the charter have remained in your thoughts, in addition to the ink-laden parchment you carry with you:

"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, the bearer of this note is 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 Fort Kazimir. 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."

With the holidays, I figured posting may be sporadic for the first week, so I thought we could start by introducing your characters, in terms of what they look like and are wearing, etc. as they journey south. Some of you met before the Lord Mayor accepted your applications for the charter, but some of you have only known each other for the last five or six days. Feel free to role-play some interactions during your journey south. You'll arrive at Fort Kazimir in a few hours, but how long that will take will depend on how much it looks like everyone's able to post over the next week. I figure we may not be able to kick into really high gear until New Year's, but we'll play it by ear.


Male Human (Ulfen) Inquisitor 1

Sigurd thrusts his knife back into it's sheath at his belt as he stands, kicking a spray of quenching dirt on the fire. Running a hand through his thick beard, he takes a moment to adjust his gear before taking his horse by the rope and turning towards the road. The stoic Ulfen man looks back towards his companions.
"So our destination finally stands before us, and now the work begins. It's not unlikely that we'll be drawing steel together soon, and I'd rather not enter battle with strangers. Tell me, what is it that's spurred you all into the Stolen Lands?"


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

Brand had remained quiet through most of the journey, but never once shirked participation when it was time to set up camp, or for watch duty, even preferring to take the harder times in the middle of the night. What little he has told the others about himself is, of course, his name: Brand Tarren. Formerly of Chelaxia, he is somewhat of a mystery, refusing to speak of his past as if not to invoke the bad memories.

He has not really mentioned anything about it, but his bearing suggests that he was trained a warrior, moving gracefully but not without purpose; his armor is an expensive kind that while providing good protection allows for good maneuverability. This, combined with his demeanor, suggest that he may have been part of a rich, perhaps even noble family.

It's unusual that he would speak up first without being addressed specifically, but over the last four days he has slowly grown more comfortable with the small group and seems less pre-occupied, though still distant.

"Redemption, I suppose," he replies as he finishes sharpening his Scimitar. The Chelaxian rises from the log he had sat upon, placing the weapon in its scabbard as his eyes dart in Sigurd's direction. "Looking for a place to be of use. Do what's right."


Sitting by the fire Treshiell lifted her gaze up towards Sigurd. She had been weaving some weeds she found at the side of the road earlier today into her long white curls. The witch studied Sigurd as she was seeing him for the first time and was trying to pry his innermost secrets out of his eyes. This happened alot. Every time during the past four days that anyone had struck up a conversation with her she had first curiously studied them for a moment. Then followed the answer.

"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, the bearer of this note is 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 Fort Kazimir. 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.", she recited in her usual serene tone of voice.

She picks up one of the three dead mice she's got tied to her belt and lays it out in front of her. Then she softly strokes the head of the viper that has been sleeping on her shoulder and reaches out towards the mouse. "What brings you here, Sigurd Mjornson?", she asks as the viper lazily slithers down her arm.


Male Human Rogue 3 (Swashbuckler)

Rupert is a spry, handsome young man, rarely seen without a smile on his face or a wink in his eye. He enjoys good company, and will chat with anybody willing to chat with him. If he senses that someone is tired of his conversation, however, he will simply move on to someone else. When he isn't chatting with one of his companions, he will have a one-sided conversation with his hunting hawk that hangs in a cage from the side of his backpack. Cooing to her quietly, it is obvious the bird's purpose is as much a constant companion than she is a hunting bird, though he often brags about how he has never gone hungry since Flo joined him.

He wears battered but presentable clothing: sturdy and worn leather boots, dark brown trousers, a leather belt, a button-up grey wool shirt with a light leather vest, topped off with a wide-brimmed leather hat that very rarely leaves his head. The hat has an exotic feather stuffed into its band. A well-trimmed moustache sprouts out of his upper lip, and in the morning he spends at least 10 minutes maintaining it.

During the day he moves up and down the line, talking about the journey and plans for the future. At night he can be found close to the fire, smoking a wooden pipe, and chatting with whoever is nearby. Upon first meeting the group, when asked about his past, he would simply say he had just arrived from the Stolen Lands, and while the last thing he would have expected to do was turn around and head back in, the prospect of a well-paying job to do good deeds was too much to pass up. As the journey progressed, however, he opened up a bit more abut his true past: saying that he was returning to the Stolen Lands to try to right a wrong from his past, or at least gain some better karma. He lets other people make what they will from that confession, quickly and skillfully changing the subject.


Male Human (Ulfen) Inquisitor 1

Sigurd turns his icy blue eyes to Treshiell as he ties back a thick blond mane.

"I was a child here - my family made their home a bit further south."

Seating himself back on one of the logs around now smoldering fire, Sigurd checks the string of his bow, giving it a short, steady pull.

["But every year the bandits pushed us further towards Restov, until their raids forced us beyond the border entirely. I know firsthand the hardships their predations can inflict on the populace, and I'd see the put to an end, but more than that, I have a personal stake in this conflict. They did not just steal these lands from the crown of Restov - they stole them from me as well."


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

Brand's eyes follow Sigurd as the Ulfen walks back and sits down again, looking slightly annoyed; he had been eager to get going, but his firm gaze softens after a moment as he unceremoniously plops back down onto his log.

The former Chelaxian noble rests his arms against his thighs, looking over to the witch Treshiell. If it wasn't for the strange calming effect her presence had, he may well be a little weirded out by the woman's reciting of their letter in response to Sigurd's question, but he had met stranger people in Chelaxia, far stranger people.

Once Sigurd gives his own explanation, he nods in understanding. "Losing your place, your family, is rough." Emotion surfaces in his voice as he speaks. "I know this."


Sigurd Mjornson wrote:

Sigurd turns his icy blue eyes to Treshiell as he ties back a thick blond mane.

"I was a child here - my family made their home a bit further south."

Seating himself back on one of the logs around now smoldering fire, Sigurd checks the string of his bow, giving it a short, steady pull.

["But every year the bandits pushed us further towards Restov, until their raids forced us beyond the border entirely. I know firsthand the hardships their predations can inflict on the populace, and I'd see the put to an end, but more than that, I have a personal stake in this conflict. They did not just steal these lands from the crown of Restov - they stole them from me as well."

Treshiell's eyes move back the small green viper. "Did they steal your family as well?", she asks in a neutral tone while watching the snake devour it's meal.


Male Human Rogue 3 (Swashbuckler)

"Well hell, I've been scrounging for a livin' here n'the Stolen Lands f'most my life. Ah' can tell y'that tis' hard to make an honest life out of the lack'f opportunities offered here. I'm sure even the people we meet at this here tradin' post up ahead can attest t'that.

"Ah' can't be judgin' the folks out there robbin' and stealin', but that doesn't mean ah' don't see that what they're doin' is wrong. Tis' wrong, but I've been in similar situations and ah' have to feel a little sympathy for their kind. Ah' won't hold back my blade, mind you, but ah' will spare those ah' can: those who let me, that is."

Rupert kicks at the dirt solemnly, and adjusts his hat. He realizes the point he made was a little irrelevant, but he wanted to get this information out there for his companions to mull over before having to do battle together.


Female Elf Cleric (Desna) 1

Pulling her gaze away from the starry sky, Lirisial places a finger upon her lips. "Where to begin? I've been wandering these lands for almost 30 years now. Though I am a child of the open road, these lands are still my home, and its people my family. I seek to heal their aches, and bring joy back into their lives. The Song of Spheres guided me to this land, and I think after all my time here I finally know why."


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

Brand looks somberly in Rupert's direction. "Plenty of food in the forest. They don't need to steal and rob to survive." He pulls a large hunting knife free from his right boot, staring critically at the edge for a moment to see if it needs sharpening still. "But I won't kill anyone who surrenders," he finally adds as he holds the blade up to his eyes to inspect it closely, reassuring Rupert that he'll pretty much do the same.

Once the elf speaks, he looks at Lirisial with a wry smile. "And why is that? Already anticipating lots of aches on our journey?"


Treshiell watches Brand's and Rupert's interaction and thoughts form in her mind but there is no hint in her eyes as to what thoughts they might be.

"Aches guided by a goddess no less", she muses to nobody in perticular at Brand's retort.


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

The tall man arches an eyebrow in Treshiell's direction; he's not quite sure how to interpret her musement, but in all probability it might be something very insightful and profound. Or just some philosophical nonsense.

His attention quickly wanders back to the knife in his hand, though, finally opting to push it back into the leather sheath strapped to his leg, with practiced ease.

"Let's get moving," he suddenly announces as he rises from his position. "We won't get there any sooner just sitting around."


Stavros looks up from the parchment he's been scribbling on.
"All this talk of stealing, redemption, and lost families. Makes me feel right at home..."
His eyes are unfocused as he stares into the fire.
With that statement, he rolls up the parchment and puts stows his quill in his belt pouch.
Removing a small knife from the pouch, he sets to work on whittling the end of a thin shaft of wood, similar to the arrows currently in his quiver.
An observant watcher will note each arrow has one red fletching, and two black.
Though the road for the past few days has been rough, his clothes and gear are immaculately clean. His hands are smooth and free of calluses beyond two on the ends of his forefinger and middle finger of his right hand, presumably from archery practice.
He wears a fine sword at his side, but thus far only removed it from its sheath to oil it, then replace it in the sheath. However, this act is done with care bordering on reverence.
He pays much more attention to the unstrung shortbow he uses as a walking staff, and his ever-growing quiver of handmade arrows.
If left to his own devices he works on his arrows, humming softly as he carves.


Female Elf Cleric (Desna) 1

"It seems unavoidable out here to be honest. Life is hard out here. Though I certainly don't wish to be the cause of those aches, there are many people who would attack even a priest. I will defend myself if I must." Patting her battle gear in a pile next to her, she giggles and asks, "Does that satisfy, Brand? Or is it your own aches you worry about?"


Treshiell is seemingly letting her mind wander as she slowly draws swirls in the dirt with her finger. When she gets to the sixth ring she insteads draws a straight line in the direction of the road.

Looking up she says: "Brand is right. We are done with this place." Then she rises and gathers her things. "Thaal is curious what aches lies ahead."

RPG Superstar 2014 Top 16, RPG Superstar 2012 Top 16

The morning hours pass quickly, despite aching feet for those without horses to ride, as you near your destination.

Cresting a hill, you can see the South Rostland Road turn to the west, culminating in Fort Kazimir. A 10-foot-high wooden palisade surrounds the former border fort, with 20-foot-high towers at each corner, each topped by something you can't clearly make out from where you are. A single gate to the west provides the only obvious access to the fort, which you were told now serves as a trading post for these remote lands.

To the south, you can see the area you have been chartered to explore, a stunning vista spreading before you.

Gently rolling hills surround the fort, green grass just emerging from the long winter. South of them you can see the Thorn River meander from the evergreen forest of the Narlmarches in the west to the plains of Kameland in the east, both stretching as far as you can see.


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

Brand marches without complaint; he has travelled a long way from his native country of Chelaxia, often on foot and isn't about to fall over from the exertion anytime soon. Still, when their goal finally reveals itself before them, he raises his hand above his eyes to block out the sun and a brief smile surfaces.

"The fort is in sight," the man announces. "If we want to take a short break, now would be a good time." He looks around, checking on the state of the others and trying to get a feel for the area.

He knows that, once they get much closer, most people would be even more reluctant to take a break than they might be now. The warrior sees no need for them to push themselves to exhaustion; after a brief rest they would make good time and reach Fort Kazimir in the afternoon, well in time before the fall of dark.


Female Elf Cleric (Desna) 1

Leading her horse, Lirisial seems to become more excited the farther into the Stolen Lands they go. When she sees the vista before the fort, she laughs in excitement. "Beautiful! Simply amazing! I am very glad I have wandered this way. Thanks to Desna for this sight." Any fatigue she may have been showing has vanished from her, replaced with an almost unsettling exuberance.


Male Human Rogue 3 (Swashbuckler)

"Well ah' reckon the restin' will be that much better if'n we make it to some comfy beds and good food. Why not press on this last stretch? I'm feelin' good, meself."


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

The Chelaxian fixes his gaze on Rupert once he hears the suggestion. "We may have been lucky so far, not running into anything dangerous and all, but this is still a wild area in which predators may be found." His eyes narrow a little. "And I remember hearing something about bandits. Better to rest for a few minutes than to push ahead when there's plenty of day left to get there twice over."

Brand doesn't seem to share Lirisial's exuberance, actually seeming a little dour after his initial reaction to the sight. That look isn't exactly a new one, though: it sat on his face for almost the entire journey.


Treshiell walks along in a seemingly good mood. She spends most of the journey singing to herself in strange languages (draconic and sylvan).

She stops with the others as the fort comes into sight. "I wonder what they are keeping out", she says while tilting her head sideways. Then she turns her attention to the vast landscape. "Do you see that, Thaal? Our new home."

"Are you eager to prolong our journey or just tired, Brand?", she says in response to Brands question, not taking her eyes of the view.


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

"If having a motive beyond what I just told you makes you happier, take your pick," the man sighs. "That's what I get for trying to talk some sense into people."


Treshiell turns her gaze away from the view and towards Brand. "Why would it make me happier?", she asks in a wondering but still neutral tone. "Thaal was curious if your suggestion was spured by a love of travel or due to tired feet. But it seems we have got another anwser all together. We will accept your offer." Her gaze returns to the horizon as she sits down at the side of the road.


Male Human Rogue 3 (Swashbuckler)

"Well, if we're goin' to be sittin', might as well spruce up a bit before makin' our grand entrance."

Rupert lets his backpack fall gently to the ground, taking care not to smash Flo's cage or disturb the bird. He quickly fishes out his shaving kit and gets to work maintaining his perfectly-formed moustache. This takes only a minute or two of quick touchups, and he will then smoke his pipe until time to continue on arrives.

Before too long on the pipe, however, his talkative nature gets the better of him. "What d'ye think we're gonna get out of this journey? Ah' imagine a few scuffles, cuts, hopefully some good ol'fashioned battle glory, and hopefully still some coin. Maybe some grub, a good home, some enemies, probably some friends. Some say tis bad luck t'dwell on the future like this, but ah' find life so boring wit'out it."


"We have not thought about it, Rupert", Treshiell anwsers. Her eyes now closed as she's basking in the morning sun. "Me and Thaal has been brought here by a wisp of fate. For what reason, if there is such a thing, will eventually be revealed."

She opens her eyes and fixes Rupert in her gaze. "Scuffles and cuts, that sounds unpleasant", she says in an almost playful voice. At least the most playful her tone has been during this journey. "Would you not be more interested to discover what the wild has to show us?"


Male Human Rogue 3 (Swashbuckler)

"T'be honest, I've not thought too much about the wild for a good many years, now. When you live in and around it constantly, ah' feel like ye' have but two options: embrace it w'open arms, o'accept it and move on. The wilderness is there, always has been, and always will be: t'me, people are much more interesting."


"That is an odd perspective", the witch replies. "But you sound sincere. Perhaps this journey will present us with interesting people. What do you think, Thaal?". Treshiell tilts her head as if listening to her snake. After a moment she straightens herself. "Oh", is all she says.


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

Bran chuckles briefly, watching the witch. "Did he tell you that you're plenty interesting yourself?"

He shakes his head. "I could make do without some of them, that's for sure. People. Nature doesn't betray, it just is." The Chelaxian peers at Flo's cage. "Be careful with your Thaal when she's out. Training only goes so far."


"No he has not, mister Tarren", Treshiell responds with her eyes once again closed and she has resumed basking in the sun. "I find myself of small importance. It is our journey that is interesting."

Thaal has now slithered down her arm and lies motionless in the witches lap. "Training might only go so far, but Thaal goes further. He has agreed that the bird is not for eating", she says while stroking the viper softly on it's head. "Which makes me wonder. What is the bird for, mister Hentzau?"


Female Elf Cleric (Desna) 1

Lirisial turns back to the others, a far off look in her eyes. "I find it wonderful to have such companions on a journey like this. We certainly won't lack for interesting conversation." She begins skipping about, obviously not ready to stop at all.


Male Human (Ulfen) Inquisitor 1

Sigurd nods in agreement. "Certainly a diverse lot, and with diverse motives - which I must confess are more personal than I was expecting. I had figured all manner of eager opportunists would be flocking to Restov hoping for a sponsored shot at wealth and glory. I'm pleased to learn that the would-be-lordlings are more altruistic than that."

His brow furrows deeply as he gazes towards the fort. "We should formulate a plan of action once we've had a chance at a hot meal. I doubt we'll see much success if we simply march into the forests and begin lopping the heads off of bandits."


"A plan? That reminds me. We have decided that we want to help you. Thaal told me that your connection to the stars, lady Starsong, and your connection to the earth, mister Mjornson, has blessed you with the ability to call forth divine light to battle the darkness. Is that so?", the witch asks and continues, "Then we will not ask Me'Commarin to manifest as light dancing through the darkness and instead call for her insight in our time of need"

Since Lirisial and Sigurd both can cast Light i will switch to Guidance instead of Dancing lights


Female Elf Cleric (Desna) 1

"Indeed I can, young lady. I can call forth shining stars to light our way."

RPG Superstar 2014 Top 16, RPG Superstar 2012 Top 16

After a brief stop for lunch and rest, but before the need for any additional light to guide the way, you finish the first leg of your journey, arriving at Fort Kazimir in the middle of the afternoon.

The 30-foot-wide gates are swung open, providing a welcoming appearance in spite of the 10-foot-high wooden palisade that surrounds the former fort. Three wooden buildings take up most of the interior, though there is also a fenced-in, covered storage area at the far end of the yard, as well as a pair of wooden tables around a fire pit. Map to come, hopefully tomorrow, when I post from home.

You can hear the sound of hammering coming from the building to the north as you enter the gates and the smell of warm food -- some type of meat, and bread -- greet you.

An attractive human woman in her late 20s, stirring a large pot over the fire, looks up as you enter. She's wearing a rough-spun wool skirt and blouse, with her shoulder-length brown hair held back under a kerchief. After a few moments of studying you, she smiles.

"Welcome," she calls out. "Please, come in."


Male Human Rogue 3 (Swashbuckler)

"Hello, Madam!" calls Rupert as the group progresses through the gate. "How does this fine day find ye'?"


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

Brand had, during the last stretches of the journey, been rather quiet. As they approach the fort, he eyes the front wall as well as the palisade, making note of how defensible this structure may still be.

He steps through the gate with the rest of the group, calmly inspecting the sight before him. The woman receives a nod as a first gesture of greeting and a short "Good day.".

As Rupert is apparently more than happy to begin a conversation, the Chelaxian opts to remain quiet for the moment and let him do the talking.


With her head seemily in the clouds Treshiell strides through the gate and begins to circle the yard. As she passes the first building she extends her hand and strokes the surface with her palm. When she reaches the end of the wall she studies her index finger, as one might do after running it through a dusty surface. She mimics this procedure with the second cabin but stops halfway and turns toward the woman and curtseys.

Liberty's Edge

Male Human Nerd 5/Expert 1

Stretching her arms upward, Lirisial lets out a contented sigh. "One journey completed, and another soon to begin. I can't wait! Oh, where are my manners? Thank you for your hospitality to our party."

RPG Superstar 2014 Top 16, RPG Superstar 2012 Top 16

"Hello, good sir," she replies to Rupert. "I'm good now that you all have arrived. We've been anxiously waiting."

She turns to the building where the banging noise is coming from. "Stevic," she calls. "They're finally here. Come down."

Turning back to the party and giving an odd glance at Treshiell as she circles the yard, she says, "I'm Taerine. Stevic's my husband, and we run this trading post ... but you probably already know that, don't you? Are you hungry? I have venison stew and fresh bread. I can open a bottle of wine, if you'd like."

Brand, the basic structure looks like it could be defensible -- you can now see the items topping the towers appear to be catapults -- but your closer look reveals the fort is showing its age. The wood is beginning to rot in several places, and you can see other spots where clearly patches have already been made.


Female Elf Cleric (Desna) 1

Walking forward, Lirisial grasps their hostess's hand in thanks. "I believe we all might appreciate a good meal after our long journey. I am Lirisial Starsong, priestess of Desna. The talkative young man that has greeted you already is Rupert Hentzau. The man admiring your battlements is Brand Tarren. The young woman over there is Treshiell. She may seem a bit odd, but I think she is a good woman. And last but not least, back here a ways is Sigurd Mjornson, a defender of the good and righteous people."


Male Human Rogue 3 (Swashbuckler)

"Very pleased t'make y'acquaintance, milady. I'm sure ah' speak f'everyone when ah' say your 'ospitality is very much appreciated." Rupert bows lowly and dramatically at the lady's feet, then reaches for her hand and holds it solemnly as he continues, "and in answer to y'question: personally, 'ah would never say 'no' to an offer so kind an' thoughtful such as the prospect of a delicious stew wi' wine, on this gorgeous day, an' w'such agreeable company."


Treshiell approaches the woman upon being introduced. "Hello, Taerine. We are pleased to meet you", she says and crouches as she reaches the middle of the yard. The witch runs her finger on the ground and then gather up a piece of dirt in her palm. A hint of a smile decorates the young womans face as she takes a wiff and then tastes the earth with the tip of her tongue.

"The earth is good here. We can see why you chose this site for your home", she states as she stands up. Then she places her gaze on the woman and asks: "Do you know if there are mice close by?"


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

The tall Chelaxian, too, moves closer to their apparent host, briefly chuckling. "Don't worry, Treshiell here, she isn't as crazy as she seems at first glance."

He briefly adjusts the bow strapped to his back, glancing over at the witch, before he introduces himself. "Brand Tarren."


Treshiell gives Brand a unmoprehending look as she can even begin to understand what could have spured that comment. "Why would she think that? The mice are not for me", she responds. Then she turns to Taerine and continues in her dreamy voice: "We like your eyes"


Male Human, Chelaxian Ranger 1

Brand merely grimaces in response to witch's last statement; that was precisely what he had been talking about. The former noble extends an understanding look towards Taerine.


Female Elf Cleric (Desna) 1

"Well, Treshiell, you haven't introduced Thaal yet, so some people might understandably be confused. Go ahead, introduce him to our hosts!"


Treshiell holds up her Thaal-entwined arm. The snake hisses uncomfortably. "He is not fond of attention", she states as Thaal slithers back to her shoulder.

RPG Superstar 2014 Top 16, RPG Superstar 2012 Top 16

Taerine gives a little scream and jumps back, dropping the bowl of stew, which shatters on the ground. After collecting herself for a few seconds, she apologizes. "Sorry, it startled me. I guess I'm a little nervous. But, yes, I suppose we have plenty of mice it can eat."

At that moment, a large man emerges from the building where the banging was. Crossing his arms, he looks over the group with barely concealed irritation. He has a close-trimmed brown beard and curly brown hair, though streaks of gray can be seen starting to appear as well as a bald spot at the back of his head. "So these are the flaming people that are supposed to help us with the bloody bandits?" he asks, grunting afterward as if in answer to his own question. "They look like moon-touched children. I've had mudsucking bottles of wine older than they are."

RPG Superstar 2014 Top 16, RPG Superstar 2012 Top 16

A map of Fort Kazimir.

The building to the left of the gates is a stable.
Directly in front is a storage pen, though it appears empty.
Behind them are several midden pits.

To the right appears to be a guest house, with a firepit and dining area in front.

The remaining residence is Stevic and Taerine's home.

Ladders on the south and east walls lead up to the wooden walkway around the fort, with stairs leading up to each of the towers from there.

More information if/when you explore the fort more.

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