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Jeff Przybylo's page

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber. Pathfinder Society Member. 5,419 posts. 1 review. No lists. 1 wishlist. 15 aliases.

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"Arigato, Tomaru-san." Amieko says with a slight bow of the head and a smile. Never one for the formalities of her father and his Tien heritage, that is all the busy woman will give you at this time.

Even though they don't know the newcomers, the crowd is only slightly less enthusiastic about Kellen, Thordak, and Aurora. "Friends of thems is friends of ours..." is a common comment. Soon enough, you are seated at the main table while the crowd plies you for tales of your doings while you've been away. Ameiko brings out her best: spiced curry salmon, honey-baked red potatoes, and drink...lots of drink.

Assuming you share your adventures...

The crowd is 'all in' with you as you regale them. 'Oohs' in disbelief at the depredations of Aldern Foxglove, shudder with the description of the Manor, and sit in rapt silence during the battle of the Clocktower. Several hours in, and if anything more people have come in to the Dragon to hear. The crowd laughs at stories of the gnomes in Whistledown, gasp in shock at the horrors of the Graul homestead, and weep as Myriana leaves Whitewillow forever. When the tale finally ends, nearly everyone in town seems to be here: Sheriff Hemlock, Father Zantus, Mayor Deverin, even Shalelu - seated in the corner with her boots up on the table - gives you a nod and a smile.

Then everyone goes silent as Ameiko moves to the front of the main room, her lyre in hand. "By your leave..." she begins, although everyone knows that when Ameiko plays at the Rusty Dragon, she needs no permission..."I will sing you a lay: The Rise of the Runelords."

Local legend holds that Ameiko uses some magical means to enhance her music, and you find it hard to refute as you are carried off by her song. Even though you are the heroes of the lay, it's as if you are hearing the story for the first time. From that first day in Sandpoint to the fall of Barl Breakbones, Ameiko weaves an epic saga of the rise and fall of heroes. Enthralled, you come to only to realize her final stanzas leave the saga open, because she knows - as you do - that this tale is far from over...

'So where doth the future lie,
in the land where kings onced walked,
Where once the mighty Runelords ruled,
and armies of giants stalked.'

'To our heroes we must turn at need,
to prevail o'er ancient menace.
A'fore evil rises and comes again
to enslave all of a lesser race.'

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Event Roll: 1d100 ⇒ 12
Event Type: 1d100 ⇒ 5
Beneficial Event: 1d100 ⇒ 84

The stars are cold and bright in the night skies at the end of the month. For four nights, a glorious meteor shower tears across the skies over Concord. This is seen as a sign from heaven, and Morale soars in the County.

+1 for all Stability rolls until the next event phase.

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It's a busy lunch crowd at the Dragon when you finally stable the horses and head in. The heavy oaken door swings wide, letting fresh air and light into the main room. The crowd blinks in the light, trying to make out the newcomers in the glare. Then the door swings closed and the first patrons recognize you.

"It's them! They're back!"
"Lym! Praxim! Over here!"
"When did you get in?"
"What brings you back?"
"Ameiko! A round for them ! On me!" This last repeated more than once.

The crowd surges to you, vigorous thumps on the back and hearty cries of welcome all around. After all you've been through, this is a welcome change. Clearly the heroes of Sandpoint have returned.

Over the din, this woman sidles up to you, making her way with ease through the crowd. "Over here. Take my best table, nothing but the best for the returning conquerors, eh?" She motions to a large round table in front of the fireplace. With a wink and a coy smile, she disappears back toward the kitchen.

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Edric: sure go ahead.

Event?: 1d100 ⇒ 11
and it is?: 1d100 ⇒ 70
something nice...: 1d100 ⇒ 51

Food Surplus!

Farmers produce an unexpected windfall. In the next Upkeep Phase, the kingdom's Consumption is halved (but returns to normal the next Phase.)

On to Turn 6!

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SubiculumHammer wrote:

Thanks for the info.

Ha! Although, DMing would be something that I can see myself doing one day, I am under no illusions about running a game now.

A post a day seems very reasonable!

Suggested starter builds for PbP (besides meathead with an axe)?

Never underestimate the need for a meathead with an axe. Many players tend towards obscure builds of archetypes they've always wanted to play. The meathead is becoming a rare character these days.

That said, you can have quite a bit of fun with that type. I present to you Thordak Ironheart, dwarf barbarian; from one of my games:

As the ghost fades and the bear takes his leave, Thordak can be seen rubbing his watery, red eyes with his sleeve. "Blasted allergies. I can't go anywhere."

Thordak looks curiously upon Lym as she talks about traveling through 'Shadow'. "Now, lass, this 'Shadow' business, it's not gonna leave us stuck in the Plane of Shadow, is it?" Just after he lets out that last bit, he looks around at the others confidently, a proud expression upon him. "Bet you lot didn't know I knew about the Plane of Shadow, did ya? Huh? Huh? I thought not. Oh I know, I know ALL about the Plane of Shadow I do. Well... maybe not know all about it; it's possible I've heard all about it. Okay, okay, it's possible I may have overheard all about it, okay?" He looks to them all a long moment before, "Or maybe I just heard it in passing BUT THE FACT REMAINS:" he states adamantly, a finger in the air as he looks back to Lym, "Are we gonna get stuck in the Plane of Shadow? Because I just don't want to, lass! I don't know what ta do there!" he exclaims with a shrug. "I've never been! Can ya breathe? Can ya eat? Can ya... breathe?" he asks with near panic in his voice.

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The last skeleton goes down under the assault of Kadrukth the Destroyer. Mashed into a pile of bones by the earth elemental's fists.

Combat over.

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No way Gav is gonna top me on drinking songs, so...

The dwarves sing along with Gavrill, belting out the words everyone knows to the classic 'Miss Andoran Pie'. Then they begin with a well-known tavern song of their own:

'What do you do with a drunken miner, what do you do with a drunken miner, what do you with a drunken miner deep down in mine shaft...'

'Put 'im in the mine cart with 'is bottle, put 'im in the mine cart with 'is bottle, put 'im in the mine cart with 'is bottle, deep down in the mine shaft...'

'Shove 'im down the track 'til he heaves over, shove 'im down the track 'til he heaves over, shove 'im down the track 'til he heaves over, deep down in the mine shaft...'

The drinking and singing goes on until the wee hours, and the sun comes up way too early. And bright. Way too bright. But the dwarves are busy working, and are none-too friendly in their hungover state, so you set out for Concord having done good work.

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Gavriil wrote:
He then begins to play the only tavern song he could remember in his addled state that contained dwarves, "And they were singing: Byyyyye Bye Miss Androan Piiiie! Drove my wagon from the dragon and the dragon flew high! Them good'ole dwarves were drinkin' whiskey and rye! Sayyyyin'.... uhh... somethin' somethin' Gav's a good guy! Somthin' somethin' Gav's a good guy!"

Are you friggin' kidding me?? Awesome!

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Thinking on it, if we roll round by round, this will take forever. So here we go.

The mugs begin to flow, as fast as you can down them. With every finished mug, Barod and Gaerd clash their silver family tankards together with a ring.

Fort save DC10: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25 +1 S
Fort save DC12: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 +1 F
Fort save DC14: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 +2 S
Fort save DC16: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29 +3 S
Fort save DC18: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 +2 F
Fort save DC20: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 +3 F!
Fort save DC22: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

And now Edric
Fort save DC10: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29 +1 S
Fort save DC12: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31 +2 S
Fort save DC14: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15 +3 S
Fort save DC16: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14 +1 F
Fort save DC18: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14 +2 F
Fort save DC20: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27 +4 S
Fort save DC22: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28 +5 S!

Somewhere around the sixth full tankard, Gaerd reaches out to smash his mug into his brothers and misses! His momentum carries him straight on to the dirt floor of the tent, face first under the table. It only takes a second to find him, but by then deep snores are vibrating the benches you're sitting on.

"Well I'll be a orc's uncle!" Barod exclaims. "Never did thought ye could do it, lad. But then Gaerd's always been a bit of a lightweight! A deal's a deal, lad. Ye can count on the Brighthammers as part of Fairhaven!"

He leans in to Gavriil to whisper. "make sure ye keep the ale flowin' laddie. keeps me lads workin'!"

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Was just waiting for Nara.

The Brighthammer brothers go through two ales each while they listen to first Gavriil, then Naralesh, talk.

"Tell ye what, lad." Barod says to Gavriil. "Let's do this the right way. If'n one of you can beat me brother in a drinking contest, we'll agree ta be citizens in Fairhaven. Win...we're in. Lose and we go about our business without you."

He takes a deep draft and smiles as he lowers his mug. He looks at Gaerd, reaching out to clash his silver mug with that of his sibling.


This will be a straightforward series of Fort saves with an increasing DC per round. First one to pass 5 saves wins, or first one to fail 3 loses. Feel free to discuss before you accept, and float out any ideas that you may want to try to tip the scales in your favor. Obvious spellcasting would be seen in a dim light.

Dwarves. Gotta love 'em.

EDIT: Looking through some backgrounds, I could be convinced to give Edric an additional +2 to his Fort for resistance to imbibed toxins - just this one contest.

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"Just coming here has restored our faith that we did not make a mistake." He stands, raising his mug. "I propose a toast."

"To Fairhaven, may she never fail!"

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"Indeed." Darrick says, agreeing with Asha. " No sooner did we get established as a government to do 'something different', we went right to Brevic politics when a situation presented itself."

"Not a proud moment." He sighs deeply. "I don't know Vosil or his history. I can only assume that his reaction was from a bad experience with politicians. I - we - would ask that we are treated with the same respect and dignity that you would treat each other. We will do the same. And as Asha said, there is no way to completely take the Brevoy out of us. We will speak our minds based on that. We only ask for a fair and equal voice in the Council."

and now...done!

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Female Human Cleric of Erastil 4

"One thing we did realize as we talked and rode was that old saying: 'you can take the woman out of Brevoy, but you can't take the Brevoy out of the woman...or man." She says with a nod at Darrick and Kesten.

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Series of posts coming up, wait for it...

Asha and Kesten look to Darrick. The man looks at Talia for brief second, then rests his elbows on the table, hands clasped.

"Ah. That. As I am sure you are aware, Milady, there were - words - spoken in the Council chamber. Under normal circumstances, I could not let such words go without response - defense of my honor and all that." He takes a quick look at Vosil.

"But I came here to get away from such foolishness. I came to Concord to be something else, something more, than a Brevic politician."

He leans back in his chair. "Foolish hope, maybe. But I thought that a quick exit to let cooler heads prevail was in order."

"In my desire to let things cool down, I made a rash decision. For that I apologize."

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They are your standard, run-of-the-mill bats that swarm and attack those that enter their caves and startle them.

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Hundreds of bats crash to the floor of the hall, knocked unconscious by the spell. There they lay, helpless.

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Vosil Comarenza wrote:
See what you did, OGGM? You made a dragon cry. Hope you're proud of yourself... ;-)

When you put it that way, I am, actually. But the vision of a mini-dragon standing there on the castle steps with steaming tears is kind of awesome!

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Magna stops as Kaalib calls her, but does not turn around. When he finishes, she mounts her horse and rides out of Concord.


The light behind the doorway casts the approaching figure in silhouette; but you can tell he is tall, wiry and has a smooth gate. As he crosses over threshold, his simple brown garb: boots, trousers, and vest mark him as common man. But his grin is anything but. With a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye, he looks up.

"Hullo Talia. Nice digs."

The Scoundrel of the Greenbelt has returned.

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The sage Encarta has documented many cases of barrows and cairns dotted throughout the River Kingdoms. Petty kinglets, barbarian conquerors, and countless others have lived and died in this region, leaving their mark in forgotten tombs.

A certain mark along the first flagstone you can see tells you a bit more: there is a legend of a place called The Lonely Barrow. It is the final resting place of an ancient barbarian warlord. His name is lost to history, but legend holds that he was laid to rest along with his loyal guardsmen. As is all too common, the greedy brother who succeeded him coveted the warlord's magic weapon, and kept it for himself. Angered at this blasphemy and the desecration of his remains, the warlord’s spirit rose as an undead menace not long after. He sought out the treacherous brother, and although the stolen weapon became broken in the fight that followed, the undead warlord succeeded in killing the brother and returned to this cairn with his reclaimed weapon; he has stood eternal guard over his tomb ever since.

There is a note scribbled in the margin of the Chronicle:

'...could be anything in there...'

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"NO!" Magna retorts to Talia, a bit too sharply.

"No. Milady." She says, correcting herself. "You don't understand. The Forge Father teaches us to stand up and face our enemy. To protect our people in a straightforward way. I...have deviated."

The dwarf paladin drops her hands to her belt, gripping the haft of her axe. Her knuckles turn white with frustration. "But I am not working to change things for the betterment of the people. I am working to change them for myself."

"I have desired to rule for myself. I have compromised with one of my people's greatest enemies. I have wished violence on my own people because of the desire for power! I have...loved..." She speaks this last softly, with a sidelong glance at Edric. "In a word...I am...soft." She whispers. "Not the steel edge of the axe forged on the anvil of Torag."

There is a long silence.

"I will go north. Join the next band of crusaders bound for Mendev. They use the Sellen as a route to join Queen Galfrey's armies there. I need to re-forge my very soul, and I will go to the greatest such forge on Golarion."

"I am going to the Worldwound."

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From the doors to the Council chamber, Magna's voice breaks into your discussion.

"I..." she begins, her voice as unsure and wavering as you have ever heard her, "I..I have to leave" she stammers, her eyes downcast.

"I'm afraid I have been tested. And found wanting. My faith, my race, everything I thought I was." She looks up, and it is obvious she has been crying. "For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to bring the word of Torag and the might of his hammer to the unjust. I've known that my part in life was to forge the bonds of community that he teaches." She looks down again.

"I do not think I am worthy."

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Check the quest tab - I'll make it part of the reward for bringing him in.

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The great worg flashes by, taking hits as he charges. But his days of hunting the Kamelands are ended by Tali's precise strike, and his furred bulk tumbles to a halt just short of where Dregan stands. The last worgs let out a terrified yelp, and and dash off into the night.

Combat over, Vosil's great rug acquired. Hex (D6?) explored.

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Naralesh wrote:
I suppose neither Naralesh nor I fully understands nobles yet. Talia, this is your stage.

Indeed, nobility is a very odd thing. Think of an ultra-exclusive club, that you have no way joining unless by birth. You and your club are better than everyone, save those in the club with a better lineage. But you ALL are better than everyone else. And you fight tooth and nail to protect that. AND that's ingrained from birth.

Even your NPCs will have a hard time giving that up. They need a new club - and that's you all.

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YES! You want to know where I was going? This. This. THIS! Crisis arises, leaders say: 'Hey let's talk. Everyone (not in the Council) sit down and shut up (sorta) until we figure it out.' Excellent! Most astonishing wonderful! (my inner hobbit) You're going to need this in the future. I've read the books, trust me.

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Naralesh wrote:
I concur. I have absolute confidence you're going to a good place with all this. But I am having difficulty roleplaying how to react to the NPCs because I don't understand the situation.

Say your sorry (Vosil), kiss their ass (Talia), and get them back to work. Can't be plainer.

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Talia and Kaldrukth dispatch the worg on her. Dregan slays another - the one threatening Naralesh.

Need Edric to go in ROUND TWO still. He is prone. All of the worgs are evil, Edric.

Status Update: Magna is prone, a worg on her. Edric is prone, worg on him. Talia, Naralesh, Dregan are free of attackers. Vosil has a worg, but it is blind. Howls-in-the-Hills is up on the edge of dell and waiting. He is 40' away.

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Naralesh wrote:
I remember that quest. You get Light Side points for ensuring they get punished for their romance, and Dark Side points for letting the young love flourish...

And that is the mark of a great quest/mission, isn't it? One of the best I have ever seen.

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Aaaaaaannnndddd...I wrote that before I read Naralesh's post!

The Voice of Reason!!! Great post!

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Javell DeLeon wrote:
Are the icy stares the only way down? Or is there like a drop off from the top that reaches the bottom? If so, how far is the drop?

Stairs are the only way down. If only you had a large piece of cardboard or a laundry basket...

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Howls-in-the-Hills is a cunning hunter. Full of tricks and surprises, he has stalked these lands for a generation. So with a snarl and a howl, the pack breaks upon you from the west, where he played the echoes against you.

Two worgs are on Edric in a flash, fangs flashing in the firelight. Their bite draws blood, and the paladin is overborne by their rush. -12 hp, Edric, you are prone.

bite: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27 crit: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 dmg: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
trip: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

bite: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
dmg: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
trip: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

The rest of the pack attacks, one worg for each of you. Only Magna's skill at teamwork saves you, keeping you from being totally surprised.

att Talia: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
att Magna: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17dmg: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10trip: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
att Vosil: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22dmg: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9trip: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
att Dregan: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11dmg: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10trip: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
att Naralesh: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20dmg: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10trip: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

These worgs are dynamite!

The worgs come on in a rush, and the party goes down under their savage attack. Only Talia manages to duck under her assailant and remain standing. She looks up to see the silhouette of a huge worg lined against the night sky, staring down into the dell.

NOTE: Everyone is hit and prone except Talia. Please note the damage you took, I rolled it above. You may take AoOs as they trip you, based on the Lookout Feat (you can act in the surprise round). Then you are up for ROUND ONE.

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Gaerd tilts his head to one side, looking at Talia with a strange look. "Ye have what ye hold, Milady." Then he walks away to rejoin the dwarves and get settled for the night.

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Hold on Turn 5 for now. Let's get some of the exploration caught up, because I've launched this too fast and dates are getting crossed up.

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Magna and Edric: don't stop your excellent interaction over rulership just because I moved forward. You can talk on the ride south, as you explore, etc. I don't want that to be cut short. You have months in game time to develop this.

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Male Human Fighter 4

"Nein, Herr Comarenza. Ich mochte Schoenhafen."

Apologies for bad German.

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Sorry, couldnt help myself

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26 Desnus 4707

The wagon train sets out the next day for the south, for the site of the new city. The journey takes several days, but in the end, you arrive without issue and the work begins. Many willing hands make for short work, and soon enough, things begin to take shape.

21 Sarenith 4707

The night sky is clear and the moon at a half when the faithful gather for one of the few formal holidays for Desna's followers; the Ritual of Stardust on the summer solstice. On the shore of the lake, with the moon reflected in it's surface, great bonfires are lit. A great feast is held, and those present watch the embers and sparks float out into the night sky. The celebrants chant and sing songs until the fires burn low. When only embers remain, sand mixed with ground star gems (star rubies, star sapphires, and rose quartz) is cast on them. Many of those in attendance make proclamations of love and friendship, and not a few marriage proposals are offered and accepted. The twinkling of the sand-gem mix as it rises with the embers is surely a sign that Desna witnesses and approves this night.

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Guess what? No taxes = no ECON roll. Phase 3, Step 4 is called 'collect taxes' for a reason. What a dumb name for the phase. How can have a 'no taxes edict' and collect taxes? They should have called it 'Collect Income'.

Second, I pretty much said that there is no upkeep phase at size 0.

Third, you build in the turn we are in. I'm not going to try and keep track of 'what's due next month'. If you do it in this turn, the BP is spent, the adjustments are made to the ELC (Econ, Loy, Stab). If not, then you don't get the bonuses either.

Fourth, is Kaalib going to be the 'official report guy' each month? That's fine by me.

Fifth: building housing or tenements does not count against your total number of buildings for the turn.

Sixth, the fort hex is prepped already - it has a structure on it. 1 BP to claim it and found Concord-on-the-Lake as well as the Viscounty of Fairhaven.

Seventh (sheesh), the map will have to be updated to show all of this: claimed hexes, farms, forts, cities, roads, etc.

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Darrick watches as three of the charter members walk out. He looks pointedly at Talia.

"It would seem not all of the members are in agreement with your proposal, Talia. Still, you have the support of the rest it would seem. I have not spent enough time with you all to vote fairly, but if it were my preference, I would throw my say behind someone with experience in governing matters."

He pauses a moment, lost in thought. When he speaks again, it isn't clear whether he is speaking about you, or something else...

"There comes a time when all will not agree on the direction the leadership is taking a nation. In that time, you have two choices: stay and have your say, or leave and forfeit your right to speak out about it."

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Am I the only one seeing the double-meaning to 'Privy Council'?

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Kingdom building thread here.

You have just received 50 BP from Rostland in your wagon train. See the new thread for all the kingdom building.

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Here is what you know about the Lebeda's and Darrick in particular:

House Lebeda is based to the southwest of Lake Reykal in Brevoy, controlling the plains and significant portions of the lake's hipping.They are considered to be the Brevic noble family that epitomizes Rostland, having significant Taldan blood, an appreciation for fine things, and a love of sword fighting.

Their castle, Silverhall looks over Lake Reykal and is where the family maintains its power. They control the shipping on the lake; their business of being brokers and merchants linking the north and south of Brevoy has made them rich.

Dame Sarrona Lebeda currently leads the house as regent until her son Lander comes of age. The oldest child, Elanna, is the house's representative in New Stetven; rumors say she is trying to arrange a marriage with the king.

The family's crest is a swan on water with the sun on the horizon. Depending on how the house fares, the people say the sun is either rising or setting; currently most people say the sun is rising. The family motto is "Success through Grace."

The name Darrick Lebeda does not ring any bells, but you have heard of a member of that family who is more than a little critical of Elanna's efforts to bind the Lebedas to the Surtovas.

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"Very well, Talia. I would normally require all the persons who are on this charter, but if one is missing, we will make do." He accepts Talia's arm and allows himself to be led into the common room of the Post. There Svetlana hurries about getting drinks of the Strolchnya, while Oleg grumbles but sets about the store. He is no fool, the wagons outside represent more business through the post than he would see in a year.

Once everyone is setaed, and drinks are passed, he speaks:

"The Swordlords are very pleased with your progress here in the Greenbelt. Events are moving quickly in the North, and they greatly desire a...reliable...neighbor on their southern borders.'

He chooses his words carefully, weighing them for impact. Clearly this a man used to the machinations of politics.

"To that end, it has been entrusted to me to bring you this..."

From a leather case he carries over his shoulder, he produces a scroll. The wax seal bears the symbol of Rostland. He breaks the seal, rolling out the scroll so as to read it:

"Be it so known that the bearers of this charter, having delivered the northern reaches of the Greenbelt from the scourge of banditry, having provided detailed maps of the lay of the land, and having done no small amount of work in the exploration of said land and the culling of hostile monsters and indigenous hazards, are hereby granted the right to rule. The nature and laws of rule are theirs to define, and the wellbeing of this new nation is theirs to protect. In accordance for providing a stable nation to the south of central Rostland, let there be a generous stipend of funds, support, and advice provided to this fledgling nation as a token of Restov and Brevoy’s goodwill, such that future relations between kingdoms might be mutually beneficial. So witnessed under the watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and by the authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne."

When he finishes, he lays the scroll down so everyone can read it.

"I have been sent here to assist you in this effort. The people and resources out side are to help with your...our...start." A broad smile breaks across his face.

"So. When do we begin?"

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The hags cackle and titter at Lym. Larastine shuffles forward a few steps more.

"Oh dearie. Oh Dearie. It's so much more. A wizard you say? The Runelords of Thassilon made wizards look like bumbling apprentices. Seven Runelords, disciples of ancient Xin. Seven points, seven deadly sins, seven Runelords. Each one a king or queen in their own right when they divided Xin's kingdom among themselves - after they killed him."

The hags begin a slow chant, deep throated and grim:

  • Alaznist of Bakrakhan, Wrath's jagged edge.
  • Belmarius of Edasseril, deadliest Envy.
  • Krune of Haruka, sluggard scion of Sloth.
  • Sorscha of Eurythnia, Lust's deepest desire.
  • Xanderghul of Cyrusian, Pride's dangerous game.
  • Zutha of Gatash, fat master of Gluttony.
  • Karzoug of Shalast, Greed's darkest night.

"They destroyed mighty Xin, greatest of them all. They divided his realm, after his fall. Where they walked, misery conquered mirth. Only to perish, when stars fell to earth."

The sound rolls through the cave, each note shaking the cave floor, until the end comes and the finish rolls over you and out into the winter sky. Then they turn to you and hiss in unison:

"We have no quarrel with you. You will find Lamatar in the next cave. Barl and Lucrecia are beyond. We will boil your innards when they have killed you - if you are lucky enough to be dead." The hags laugh and mutter among themselves, but otherwise ignore you.

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The man holds out the reins of his horse, but when no one is there immediately to take them, he frowns again, then lowers his arm, still holding them. His eyes take in the scene coolly, appraising each of you as you stand around the gate. Behind him, the wagon train labors up the small hill to the post.

"Talia Khavortorov, I presume?" He says after a moment. "Certainly you must be, Lady. You match the description I was given, and you bear the fine features of your family proudly." He adds, sweeping into a low bow.

"I am Darrick Lebeda, formerly of Rostland, and I am sent here by the Lords of that realm to...assist you in your endeavor in this land. Is there somewhere in we can sit privately? I have tidings that should be heard."

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The gates are not closed during the day.

A long line of wagons approaches the gates to Oleg's. Stretching out over a league or more, the train consists of supply wagons, cargo wains, and dozens of the covered version designed by the dwarven engineer Conestoga some years ago.

Two lines of armed guards in the two-headed dragon livery of Rostland ride on both sides of the road. There is a large contingent of them near what looks to be an armored wagon - heavy wooden construction with iron reinforcements.

A distinguished looking man rides at the head of the train, resplendent in a dark red traveling cloak on a gray palfrey. As he approaches the gate, he seems to take careful stock of the trading post and the surrounds. Just the faintest frown of disdain crosses his face before he sees you waiting. His face becomes a mask of neutrality as he rides up, and with practiced ease he drops from the saddle in front of you.

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The three hags blink, slowly. Then Larastine shuffles her fat body forward, stopping halfway to the cave entrance.

"The ogres are not in charge, sweetest. Do you not know?"

Larastine's sisters cackle quietly behind her. Tall, thin Grelthaga throws something in the cauldron, drawing a very pungent smell. Briselda flexes her talons as she laughs, iron-hard nails clacking on the edge of the black vessel.

"They do not! They do not!" They titter. "They do not know! Oh how precious! How perfectly delightful!'

Larastine shuffles a few steps forward again.

"He speaks of Barl and Lucrecia. Do you even know who they are? What they are? Lucrecia slew half the town by herself. Drownded and burned we hear. Barl destroyed Grolki Kreeg with his bare hands, even as Grolki was on his knees in worship." Her breath is rancid, the stench can be smelt even from where you stand.

"Barl Breakbones carried the Sign. As does the snake woman, Lucrecia."

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All of the following are purely my opinion, just because I can't really keep myself out of this discussion, try as I might:

The alignment choice is more of a set of guidelines than hard-and-fast rules. NG builds a balance between laws and freedoms for the people. But Vosil is right, it is literally the first thing you have to decide. Talia's description of what she envisions takes me toward NG, as opposed to LG.

Talia: A sense of responsibility for others does not = Lawful. That's what Good is for.

When naming: keep in mind you won't just be 'Fairhaven' (to use one example), you'll be 'the Duchy of Fairhaven', 'Kingdom of Fairhaven', etc. May help with the choice somewhat.

The kingdom building rules take into account an abstraction of the influx of settlers, birth rates, etc. It's best not to try and break it down into a mathematical equation.

A strong word of CAUTION: every Kingdom campaign I've been a part of on these boards has become an 'all about me' fiasco because of one or two PCs who hijack the game. Whether due to their politics, or alignment issues, or just need to take over, the game has either lost people who got tired of it or it has fallen apart completely. I've personally refused offers to run 3 separate games after reading through the gameplay. Don't be that player. We have what appears to be a good group here, I'd hate to see it get derailed. I will do my best to let you guys play as you wish, but if it looks like things are getting rough, I WILL step in in-game and fix it. That's why I have NPCs as part of it.

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While the interlude with Perlivash is fun, it is just that - an interlude, although I'm starting to like this little fey dragon! I did not expect Vosil's question, but that is all you will get from that, so we can move on.

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When Magna speaks her mind about her preferred moniker, Perlivash twists his long neck to go nose-to-nose and get his upside-down view of the dwarf. He tilts his head first to one side, then the other, much like a dog who is trying to figure out what it is hearing.

"But Miss Magna," he says, clearly enjoying her reaction, 'Magnitofera takes so long to say! Miss Magna is very you!" And he collapses on her head, convulsed with laughter at his own joke.

After a minute, he brings himself under control. "No, no bandits at all. We have seen none." He does seem generally puzzled about her warning. "Big ones must not be mad. Tyg and Perlivash do not mean harm. Just fun for all!"

But Vosil's question stops the dragon's mirth cold. He cowers down deeper into Magna's hair, tiny claws scratching her scalp as he digs in.

"Do not ask. No, do not ask. She did it. Because she could. No reason. No reason at all. Perlivash saw. He saw. She saw Perlivash, but he flew away. Fast as fast can be. He did not go back. Not ever."

The only thing more he will say to all your questions is: "She is beauty turned dark. She has no master. She walks where she wills, even here. She laid with the Stag Lord. She takes who she wants, but it never ends well for them."


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