DM Bloodgargler's Kingmaker (Inactive)

Game Master BinkyBo

"It appears the levels of serenity and activity vary from person to person." Mr Chaudair remarks after Ta'de-win and Green pull in six and five fish respectively... to his one.
It is a crisp and clear morning. You can just barely make out the far side of the lake; a thin line of land on the horizon. The surface of the water is just a few slight ripples short of still. The lake is filled primarily with three types of fish.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

The Green Man winks at Mr Chaudair.
"Well, you know, it helps when you can literally speak with the fishes."

He then laughs deeply. "Let us just hope there are no aquatic elf people living in the lake, or mermaids, I wouldn't really know what to do with a Mermaid.
Not much for eating, that much is certain."

Resting on his side, head propped up with one hand, The Green Man gazes out over the waters.
"I think this is going to be something I'll end up doing a lot during my free time in the future."

The Green Man falls slient for a moment, seemingly gazing far away, but in time rather than space.
When he speaks again, his tone is somewhat brittle and tinged with a great sadness.

"Home...might this become home for me? You know, I haven't had a home since I gave up my name.
I've been a wandered for almost all my life..."

Norton is not the fishing type of person, so he doesn't join the others in the activities, he stays at the fort, taking care of the general duties.

Mr Chaudair seems to be pleased with your company, and welcomes the conversation. He states his feelings regarding your current activity... "To me, fishing is a way to connect with the land. A way to say 'I am here nature, and appreciate what you provide us' without requiring a great deal of moving about."

And later, as Green contemplates his past and possibilities of the future he says, "Your home should be where you surround yourself with what is important to you... "echoes of what passions lie inside your heart, and mirrors to the best parts of your soul" as my employer the Lord Mayor says." He stands and starts to pack up, when Ta'de-win notices three distant wagons on the horizon. They appear to be wrapping around the south edge of the lake toward you... several miles away yet.

"I should not linger here. Our public coordination should be minimal to avoid accusations of nefarious collusion. I will say my farewells inside and be off."

Ta easily identifies the caught fish, but only answers in response if asked. Seeing the structures, she makes sure to point them out to the others. "It appears we have neighbors along the lake. And some are coming to visit."

As Mr. Chaudair takes his leave, Ta thanks him for his time. "We should get Norton and greet them appropriately."

As Me Chaudair leaves, The Green Man waits until he is without earshot before smiling.
"I like him; he is not at all what I expected when we first meet what feels like months ago in Restov.
And if those words he quoted really were said by the lord mayor, then I think we're dealing with a rare breed of leaders indeed.
...
COMPETENT leaders.
...
Hahahahaha!"

The Green Man then nods at Ta'de-win.
"Impressive eyes, you would impress even an elf I bet. And you are right, whoever is approaching might be friendly, then again, they may not be..."

"Before you go, please give us some advice on running a kingdom."

After having returned to the fort to inform Norton of his departure, Mr Chaudair and his guards mount up. He smiles at Furiel with his question. "Do you know much about the process of creating works of art? The artist has a vision in mind before he begins. He works his materials with great focus to give form to that vision. Then there is a moment when the work itself develops its own voice... a sensitive artist appreciates that moment, and can hear that voice. That is the moment when the beauty begins, the dance between hand of the artist and the voice of the work. A thriving kingdom is a work of art in progress which hopes to never end."

"I wish you much luck... in the name of the Lord Mayor, and myself." And with one last look at the approaching wagons, he urges his mount to the trail back to Restov.

"Farewell Mr Chaudair, travel safe, and I hope we would see eachother in the future. While you travel back to Oleg's tradepost, may I load you with these two parcels for the man himself?"

Norton hands to the Restovian the two letters he wrote during the day.

Mr Chaudair is happy to take the letters as he leaves. Just a few minutes after he and his guards are out of sight, you see two on horseback split from the approaching caravan as the caravan itself comes to a stop... a little more than a half mile away.

As the two riders come closer, you see they are two dwarves riding toward you. One fairly well armored, the other older with light armor.

As they come near the gate, the older one calls out "Who might be in charge here? I was told by some braggart with whom we supped last night that he was involved in bringing down the son of the Jackdaw Prince Nugrah the Decripit. We've come to see if this is in fact true. I am Brarim Broadhammer. My brother was head of construction until that blackguard went mad."

The Green Man grins, takes of the Stag Lords Helmet and silently holds it out to the newcomer.

After a few moments he laughs a little.
"The Decripit hmm? A suitable name for that evil old man, both he and the Staglord are dead and done."

"Is that so?" He nods and starts to tear up gazing at the fort. "That is good... good news indeed. Has been quite a rough patch for our clan since that dreadful event. I hope my slaughtered kin will able to rest now. I tell you, I did not believe this Ser Valertis fellow... but made the trip because he uh... mentioned you might have work."

"It is good to see another earth kin. May your beard grow ever long."

Furiel introduces Brarim to the gnome engineers. "I recommend consulting with our illustrious inventors. Their inventions were instrumental to taking this fortress."

"They say that sometimes heaven provides opportunities, sometimes you make them yourself.
I'm not sure which one this is, but you certainly have arrived at a good time.
Let's have a look around the old place, you tell me how long you need and how much it would cost to make her fully habitable again yes?
If all goes like planned, you may end up being in work for a man’s age at least."

The Green Man drapes a friendly arm around Brarim's shoulders.
"Tell me, how are you at building throne rooms?"

If we're lucky, I think we may just have found away to make a powerful alliance with a clan of skilled dwarves.

Brarim tells his escort "Fetch Nogmil..."
He then dismounts, and bows to Furiel "...and your mug ever full. Happy to work with gnomes who know their craft. As long as y'make sure they aren't last to leave the job site... wake up swearin yer in the belly of a clockwork." He winks to show his last comment was meant in good fun.

He responds to Green "Happy to take a look. Our craft has been passed down many generations. Never done a throne room myself, but we most certainly have crafted our share. Nogmil will take a look, and we'll see what he thinks. The land around has already been leveled... as long as the foundation is solid, should be able to knock a couple weeks off preparation time." He looks back to the wagons to see an old dwarf being propped onto the armored escort's lap in the saddle.
Brarim then leans in "Have ya... ahem cleared the escape passage? We did try to sneak in through there with a fella hired by the Ashmoors years ago. Whole thing was full of walking dead. I saw my brother... and many of his crew there...turned into monsters.. cold eyes... only life to em was the hunger and hate. We did not get far before we had ta fall back."

"I don't believe we encountered any such creatures abominations. Perhaps they've already been dealt with. In either case, it would probably be best if we check this passage and ensure they are indeed gone." Ta pauses a moment before continuing. "If we should find your brother's remains, would you like us to return what we can recover?"

"Yes. Thank you. I'll take a look around with Nogmil, and prepare a rough proposal... give you an idea what can be done." He then helps the old dwarf down from the armored escort's horse. Nogmil looks pretty ancient. He has an old man perma-smile set in a massive white fraying braided beard. The escort hands him his cane... topped with a small ornate warhammer head. The two of them stroll around the grounds.

"The unquiet dead? That will not stand! I shall see them all fall like wheat to the scythe!"
The Green Man roars in sudden and violent rage.

"Show me this passage! If they are still there then they shall be destroyed!"

Taking a step back, he takes a deep breath to calm down.
"Forgive me, I cannot stand such travesties of nature...
Say, who was this person from Ashmoors that you hired?"

Furiel addresses the good dwarf.

"Dwarven construction cannot be beat. I have plans to add a magic laboratory and greenhouse at Oleg's trading post."

Furiel unrolls some provisional drawings his fellow gnomes have made.

"The bookshelves go here, the comfortable chairs here, and of course the crafting tables need to be here. Do you think your crew can work this into the work schedule?"

Furiel then unrolls another set of plans for a greenhouse.

"From the magic repository you can walk outside to this greenhouse. Look how it allows plants to be grown year round for all to enjoy. I hope to make this a surprise for my druid friend."

Furiel will start spending his resources to augment Oleg's with the repository and greenhouse, assuming the discount applies.

Furiel joins Green in a quick cleanup of the underground. "Green, you may need some backup."

"The man hired by the Ashmoors came to us... looking for an idea how to get past the defenses here at the time. My brother's decision came at quite a price. In aiding the infiltration of our construction through a the hidden passage... after oathsworn secrecy, the rest of the clan denounced our family for breaking their code of builders."

After a glance at Nogmil's tired eyes over an endurind smile. "Although we lost our home, were severed from our ancestors, and had more dead to mourn, the burden of shame I carry closest to my heart... was having denied assistance to Firebiter and the rest of the YulGrug'Dhakhur."

"The passage is in the northwest corner of the cellar. It is several miles long... and it is apparently where those who built it were laid to rest."

He then takes a moment with Furiel "Be happy to take a look at your plans to make notes for your builders up north, but from my understanding, we Broadhammers will be here for some time."

"This way Brarim." Norton steps in the conversation since his fellows seem to have forget good manners "By the way, I'm Norton, the big one likes to be called Green and the little one is Furiel, the lady is Ta' De-Win."

"We may talk better in front of some food, I heard we have some fresh fish getting ready. If what lies under this fort has already claimed the lives of many of your clan we are going to need every bit of strength and readiness."

"Right, this is what we're going to do..." The threat of undeath seems to have galvanized The Green Mans spirit and brought out a much more assertive part of his personality.

"First we'll fortify ourselves as Ser Ambrosi suggest, after that; we companions will descend into that escape route to root out the walking dead.
The road behind us will be blocked so no corpses will accidentally make it by us and into the fort.
Meanwhile, I'll ask master Broadhammer here to take Kesten and a few men to the other end of the escape route and put up a blockade to stop any creatures from emerging from that end when we begin to flush them out."

"We will bring our new companion down with us, it will be a good chance for him to show his mettle in combat."

"After this is done, I'll be wanting a word with you master Broadhammer, specifically about this Firebiter of yours, since I believe we have found something that used to belong to him below.
I'll also ask you to name and describe the fellow from Ashmoor."

"Any questions? No? Then let us eat and prepare."

"The plan does sound to be a good one. Such abominations have little place in the natural world. Dealing with them will be of great benefit to these lands. Perhaps you can tell us more of your clan while we dine."

I'm all for it! Merick seems excited about the prospect of some adventure. He flips his axe of his back and taps his boot soles with the flat. I'm stiff from all this riding around and doing nothing. Although eating first sounds good too.

"Well, we will be able to eat quite well, we have fresh fish, our own supplies, the store that the bandits had, and probably even something to drink.
...
I suggest we keep the drink for now, we can use it afterwards to celebrate all that we have achieved, and to toast to future triumphs."

Deep down, The Green Man is quite pleased, the chafing that had begun to with Rogars poor attitude seemed to be but a memory, and things were moving along well.
He did allow himself a quick moment to mark Nortons words down in his memory, if this was to be a home, he would need to remember, learn and even re-learn some of the graces you easily lose when living alone in the wild.

Furiel is wearing a shiny new warhat wherever he goes, and it seems to magnify his presence.

The gnome looks over Merick with an approving glance.
"I think you are the first of us with substantial armor. I have a spell that can make normal sized people into giants, but Rogar said it did not help him to fight. Do you like to be of larger size?"

Furiel confides to the accomplished fighter. "I actually prefer to summon creatures from the elemental plane to fight for us on the front lines. The creatures of earth can take a hit, and the creatures of air are quite hard to hit. I hope you don't feel I would be slighting your abilities if I did this!"

Merick sizes up the little man with a smile. I've never been bigger than this. But my mom says I might still grow a bit. He snickers and blushes as he realizes that the way he's standing thrusts his crotch out at just about eye-level for the gnome. Not like that, that's gross. I mean I might get taller. Sorry.

Merick recovers quickly and tries to salvage the conversation, cursing himself for his perennial foot-in-mouth moments. Anyway, I don't mind fighting alongside friends. I'll probably spend my time keeping bad guys away from little guys like you. You could say it's a calling for me.

"Hah! Don't underestimate Furiel. When we first met he wanted to wrestle me you know.
What he may lack in stature, he more than makes up for in spirit.
Besides, I've treated him just the same as everybody since pretty much EVERYONE I meet is smaller than me."

Kesten returns after making preparations. "I am ready to ride with the Broadhammers to the other end of the escape route. They appear to be willing spare two of their six experienced warriors. We have Errol, Rook, and Akiros - if willing... Who should I ask to join me?"

"More than willing." Akiros appears as he is mentioned. He is armored, and has an impressive greatsword strapped to his back. He continues while toweling soil from his hands.

"Kesten told me the Broadhammers had come. They have been allies of my family for generations... human generations... It saddens me to see what has become of their clan. If you are in fact intending on providing them a safe home, you can count me among your numbers. I am not Falgrim... my loyalty comes with actions of integrity toward allies and subjects, not from the amount of gold in your coffers. From what I have heard, and seen... I might be around a while." ... for someone yet to show a sign of emerging from his somber cloud, Akiros is uncharacteristically keyed up... even ending his mention of pride in you with a goofy smirk and finger waggle.

He slaps Kesten on the back of the shoulder. "I'll be out by the gate."

"This sounds very good, between the six of you; I believe you shall be able to hold a stable parameter and push back any threat that may emerge from the tunnels.
I would suggest using weapons with reach first and foremost; lest you allow something close to scratch you with its filthy claws."

"Some cursed ones are more susceptible to blunt weapons, and some to slashing, but I think you will be able to judge for yourself which is more suitable for the situation.
If things get really tough, you might consider lighting a small fire and strike at them with burning torches.
But I don't intend to let things go that far."

"Understood." Kesten joins the rest of the secondary team, and they head out.

After your preparations, you assemble at the sliding panel opening to the secret escape passage. It had been concealed with stacked crates and cobwebs in the northwest corner of the cellar.

"No wonder we didn't see it before, but there is no stoping us now."

The Green Man grabs the panel and atempts to open it.
"Old, but it's not in bad shape I think. Maybe this is where Topper Red was heading when he ran."

The Green Man listens intently for any sign of nearby activity after the panel opens.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

"Let me take a look before we venture too far." Ta'de-win examines the area, looking for signs of tracks or anything else out of place.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21
Survival: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (20) + 14 = 34

Furiel casts, and protective, ethereal armor covers his small frame.

Then he checks his wands and nods.

"Let us do this."

As Green slides the panel open, you see a skeleton; partially smashed... its head has been forced halfway through the barred iron gate blocking your path several feet past the sliding panel.
The path itself is some sort of pressed and sealed gravel... like textured concrete. It is roughly eight feet high, and past the iron gate, it appears to widen to about twelve feet in width. There are empty torch sconces before the gate... one on each side. You see no light, and no signs of life or remains other than the lifeless skeleton in front of you.

"The path before us has not had trespass for years. I see nothing which may suggest anything has come upon this side of the gate, living or dead, in quite a while. The same goes for as far as I can see beyond the gate. Of course that does not mean the living dead exist further in, and simply have not had cause to come this way."

Finishing her warning, she then picks up a small pebble and enchants light upon it before flinging it as far down the hallway as she can, through the gate.

If I miss, I'll simply repeat until I can make it.

Furiel casts, and a creature of earth emerges to serve him.

Furiel has it begin to tear down the iron gate by 'swimming' in the earthen material it is anchored too.

Summon Monster 2--small earth elemental w/ augmented summoning

Before we enter...

I'll take point, if no one minds. I like the front.

Now to real time...

Merick steps warily forward, not straying too far from his allies. He has an arrow nocked on his longbow, ready to draw at a moment's notice. When Furiel's servant steps ahead to work at the gate, Merick defers. My, my, Furiel, that is impressive.
__________________________________________________________________________
Staying one square in front of the most forward ally, except the earth elemental, Merick has readied an action to fire on the first thing that comes into view.

Attack with Longbow: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
Damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

The small but burly and hunched earthen creature makes an "unk" sound as Furiel directs it. It faces the gate for a moment as if deciding how to deal with it. The elemental then slips into the wall. You see a ripple on the surface which moves to where the vertical bars to the side of the gate are affixed to the ceiling. You then see the very edge of its two fists pushing the bars just far enough to be free of the fixtures. The elemental - and the resulting ripple on the ceiling, disappear for a couple moments.

The elemental then returns dropping from the ceiling and yanking down the middle bars.
It drops to the ground with a cringe-inducing stony crack, then lifts the two bent bars free from the floor. The skeleton stuck a few bars over, drops free, and crumbles on impact with the ground.

The sounds cause an odd flat echo throughout the passage.
it takes it 3 rounds to bend the bars to a passable opening

"Please allow me the place behind Merick for now, so I can watch for signs of passage. If any should be spotted, I am more than willing to give it up."

The Green man is the last to step into the passage, closing the panel behind them.
"Now the real fun begins...
Ta, Can you keep that light flowing?"

Furiel sends some dancing lights bouncing ahead.

The several lights illuminate the tunnel. There are continuing very slight "S" curves to the tunnel... possibly to diminish the threat of lurking snipers.

>first part of the tunnel< (just for an idea of degree of "S" curves.... turned on its side to fit your screens... north is left on this image)

There is no sound as you make your way through the first bends of the tunnel. The smell is an unappetizing mix of dank mildewed stone and dried droppings... that and the glowing cloud of particulate matter around the light sources make you not terribly thrilled about inhaling.

"Did they say it was MILES of this? We should either restore this place or seal it for good.
First things first however, so...onwards."

After a few minutes, you spot a dark patch on the ground - a few feet in diameter. There is white scrawling around it, and on the adjacent wall.

The writing on the wall is not in Taldane. The scrawls around the stain look like some primitive type of summoning or protection circle in chalk.

"Thank you for this bird turned man. Glory to you. I offer you in return what remains...
Sounds like someone struck a deal here, do you think that the "bird turned man" could be one of the spying crows?
But since this place doesn't look like it has been used for long, could the stag lord or the old man have done it, or is it before them?"

The Green Man detects magic in the area, just to be sure.

Kn:Arcana: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

"This looks strange."