Kingmaker Adventure Path
The Stolen Lands are a stretch of wild and unsettled land wedged between several countries, on the Eastern edge of the River Kingdoms. All of these countries claim some manner of ownership of the Stolen Lands, and several colonization attempts have been made by all of them over the last several hundred years. But the abandoned ruins that dot the swath of wilderness stand as testaments to the difficulty of ruling these savage lands. They remain a haven for monsters and criminals and dangerous secrets, and as such have continued to pose a menace to the neighboring countries.
To the south, part of the River Kingdoms, is Mivon. Mivon proudly calls itself a meritocracy--a place where only the best are allowed into positions of power. How do they decide who is the best? Why, by a fair duel, of course! To take a government position, one has to fight their way up the List of Suitors, then challenge and defeat the current official.
To the west, again part of the River Kingdoms, is Pitax- a flourishing center of culture and commerce, or a wretched den of smugglers, swindlers, gamblers, and talentless hacks, depending on whom you ask. It is ruled by King Irovetti, who won the crown from its previous holder in a game of cards. Cunning, ruthless, and vain, Irovetti has expanded Pitax's influence and established the Academy of Grand Arts, hoping to go down in history as a benevolent patron of high culture, not just another crime lord. Unfortunately, his favorite genre of art is "praised be the great lord Irovetti",so the Academy ended up becoming a choir of boot-licking sycophants where it's hard for a talent to flourish. Nevertheless, Pitax has attracted its share of artists, and some of the Academy's former students proudly wear their expulsion from it on their sleeves, as a sign of artistic integrity.
To the northwest lies Numeria- a harsh, unforgiving realm of barren wastelands, littered with wreckage from when a star crashed here in time immemorial. Numeria has few permanent settlements, as it's populated by nomadic barbarian tribes. Some of them struggle to survive on their own. Some bow to Kevoth-Kul, the self-appointed Black Sovereign of Numeria. Less scrupulous tribes resort to piracy, banditry, or even slave trade. More noble tribes sell their blades to the highest bidder. The mysterious Technic League hovers in the background of the country, researching and controlling strange technological devices.
To the east, the wilderness stretches onward and onward, beyond the boundaries of known civilization.
To the north of the Stolen Lands lies Brevoy- a turbulent land of byzantine intrigues and generations-long feuds. Stitched together from two different nations, Brevoy never became truly united. Two centuries ago a ruthless warlord known as Choral the Conqueror took over Issia and Rostland. These two countries shared a long history of wars, but the warlord united them into a single kingdom, held together by little more than the iron grasp of Choral himself and his noble house Rogarvia. For the following two centuries, the Brevic politics became an undercover power struggle between two former nation's ruling elites: Issian noble houses and Rostland's Aldori Swordlords. Decade after decade, these uneasy bedfellows smiled at each other, secretly waiting for the ideal moment to stab each other in the back.
A decade ago, every member of ruling house Rogarvia suddenly disappeared without a trace, leaving behind a power vacuum pregnant with strife that could easily turn into a civil war. The Issians nobles and the Aldori Swordlords both lacked the military might to claim a clear victory through arms, and so conflict has been avoided as the two groups have spent the last 10 years politically jockeying with each other, both attempting and failing to claim kingship of the country for themselves.
Running out of options, the Aldori Swordlords have decided to make a risky move: make another attempt to settle the Stolen Lands to secure their southern border and thereafter be able to turn its eyes and resources inward to its political struggles with Issia. Lord Noleski Surtova, the current Aldoir Swordlord claiming regency of Brevoy, has delegated this task to the Lord Mayor of Restov. Restov is a small Rostland city on the southern border of Brevoy, and the last bastion of civilization before entering the Stolen Lands.
The Lord Mayor of Restov has issued a call to all heroes and would-be heroes interested in fame, fortune, and glory. Another effort is to be made to explore and settle the land to the south of Restov... "The Stolen Lands!" Fliers and bards are dispatched throughout the River Kingdoms and beyond.
On the proper day, 18 adventurers who have answer the Lord Mayor's call gather at his palace in the City of Restov. The Lord Mayor announces that the heroes shall be divided up into three expeditions. He picks the strongest looking and those with the best equipment and sends them off with a map to the dangerous swampland known as the Hooktongue Slough on the western portion of the Stolen Lands, home to hydras, snake men, and creepy bug people.
He picks a second group, who are decidedly less tough looking and well-equipped, and sends them off with a map to the mountain range known as the Tor of Levenies, on the eastern portion of the Stolen Lands. The craggy peaks are home to all manner of trolls, giants, and ogres.
Finally, he looks at the weakest bunch remaining, with the worst equipment.... you. He says, "You are a sorry looking lot, as green as my palace's lawn. It looks like you got your equipment from your grandfather's barn, and you should fall over as soon a goblin would sneeze upon you. Though you will most certainly die, I shall send you to the calmest section of the Stolen Lands, the Greenbelt. On the edge of the Greenbelt, you will find Oleg's Trading Post, the last point of civilization before entering the wilderness. Explore and map this wilderness, bring some measure of stability to it, and your reward shall be great. But, I fully expect I shall never hear from you again. Begone."
The group of six and one rhino exchange glaces with each other, gather their things, and make their way west from Restov toward a south central point on the border of Brevoy. The journey takes many days, and as the group travels together, you share many stories and dream of what adventurers lay in your future. You often pass the charter back and forth among each other, reading the words from the Dragonscale Throne.
"The bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this 24th day of Calistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne."
The elderly elf peers through his spectacles the charter as he walks along, memorizing the legal and geographic details. He smiles amiably to his companions.
Ah the appeal of undiscovered knowledge, waiting for us to find and claim it. Who knows what lies in those ancient ruins?
He turns to his remarkable ooze companion, the Elven alchemist, and then his other new comrades in turn.
Do you find the thrill of yet unknown historical mysteries as thrilling as I do?
After the Lord Mayer dismisses them, Brokk'r looks around, eyeing his companions, and grunts.
"Can't say as I don't agree with him," the surly dwarf grumbles. Then, hoisting his pack, he says, "Better get a move on then. Ye can make acquaintances on the road." Expecting the others will follow, he sets off toward the southern road out of Restov.
As the party makes its way south, an elf, Arlen, is the first to attempt conversation. Brokk'r keeps his eyes forward and marches on ahead of the rest, saying nothing but wondering how in the hells he got saddled with so many durned elfs.
For the third time at least, Rai almost sinks into some mud or steps in horse manure and he almost curses until he notes the elder librarian first looking at him and then talking to him and Rai comes close to blushing. What would his mother think? Yes, elder I find the unknown to be an adventure to be sure. It is an honor to have you with us. I am Rai Zon.. Rai leaves his family name out on purpose. Even old librarians could be enemies and it was best to have associates and friends.
Ike did his best to keep up his façade as a human for a good while. The first hour was okay. Second was a little harder, but he managed to keep himself together. But by the end of the second hour, he'd simply reached his limit and, as the group plodded along, Ike just seemed to shudder for a moment, before collapsing and... melting! Into a pile of gray goop!
He retreated back for a bit and tried his best, in his exhausted state, to keep some semblance of a human-ish form and some hands, lifting them up and waving them in a "Wait wait, I can explain!" fashioned from his puddle body. Assuming the others didn't attack him on sight (which would've shocked him, to be sure), he slushes along after the group, at times taking on a vaguely quadrupedal shape and trotting alongside Mortimer the donkey, and at others, trying (with a lot of trouble, clearly) to take on a humanoid shape and keep up. Assuming nobody stopped him, after a while, he'd find a pouch on one of the animals (donkey or rhino) to slip quietly into and recover for a bit.
Finally, once he's had about 8 hours of rest, he'll reform into his prior shape and explain himself properly. "Sorry I couldn't talk earlier. I tried hard to keep it together, but... it's reeeeeally hard to keep up a shape like that for so long. My name's Ichorius Melfesh, or Ike, if you like... I do. It's shorter. Easier. I'm was an ooze... well, actually, I still am. But, I'm trying to be human. Or elf. Or dwarf. I can be any of them, really! I can fit in anywhere, honest!"
Ike paused a bit before looking down and huffing. "I just... want a place I can call home... I was in a village for a long time, but they... found out about me. I've been in a lot of villages, actually. But I always have to leave... I don't want to, I just... I like being around people! You spend three years watching folks from a bottle on a shelf, you kinda want to talk to them! But... most folks don't want to talk. They think I'm a monster... but I'm not! I can help! Just... gimme a chance! I'll be useful! I just... want a place I don't have to run away from after a couple years..."
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As he watches the dwarf, a rather gruff fellow indeed, walk away, Sgurd grabs the young elf by the arm, steering him away from another mud puddle.
Aye, Gorum smiles upon us this day! A charter from the Lord Mayor is a wonderful thing indeed. I am eager to see what this land has in store for us.
Hours later, after watching the other human turn into a puddle of ooze and being rendered speechless by the sight, Sigurd wonders to himself what he's gotten himself in to. However, his trust is in his god and he continues along singing quietly to himself.
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As the group walks along, Diceros is content to walk a bit to the side and the back, keeping an eye on the group while he and Pygmy enjoy walking off the path more than on it.
He isn't meaning to be a loner, really, but he finds himself at peace looking around the wilderness while he feels out the group. He can't help but start to warm up to them, as he enjoys watching the young elf stumble around on the path while he weaves through grasses and around trees. He mostly watches the strange human that seems to blob along more than walk, and is astonished at its antics. Still, he finds himself smiling at the silly creature and wanting to talk to it.
"Greetings, 'Ike.' This is my rhino, Pygmy. You are welcome to use our pouches whenever you need a rest. Oh, my name is Diceros. Isn't this exploration of Nature fascinating?"
Arlen nods kindly at Rai.
I, too am new to such adventures and find exploring the outdoors quite unfamiliar. But with some attempt at equipping ourselves...
He touches his overly large hat and the case in which he keeps his map of the area
and if we keep our wits about us, I believe we can bring honor to all of our families.
Upon seeing Ike's transformation, Arlen becomes entirely captivated with his amorphous companion. Hearing of Ike's troubles with civilization, Arlen empathizes
Indeed society is far too quick to look down upon that which is different from itself. Surely it is not the aesthetic quality of a person, place, thing, or means that matter but the end which they serve that matters! And if camaraderie is what you seek, I dare say you have found it here!
He walks steadily along for another couple of miles before Sigurd begins conversation with him.
Ah Oleg's Trading Post. An interesting location indeed!
Arlen thinks about what he has heard of Oleg's Trading Post.
Oleg and his wife Svetlana were citizens of Restov until just a few months before, when they received a charter to rebuild an abandoned border fort.
Arlen knows that the post's remote location is inconvenient distance from a major river, and this has prevented it from realizing significant financial success. Rumor has it that this is fine with Oleg, who wanted the charter in order to get away from the constant machinations and political maneuverings that dominated urban life in Restov. All Oleg ever really wanted was a place for him and his wife to live far enough from the sins of civilization without living so far that he couldn't enjoy the occasional benefits.
Although inexperienced in nature he had the skills to handle himself. If only he had a few arrows... His quiver empty and not even having food or a backpack. At least he had his clothes, his bow, his curved blade, and his life. He smiles and nods to Sigard for the hand and when Ike turns he stares for a good minute before he nods at Arien and listens intently.
One of the humans begins lagging behind and, just as Brokk'r turns to chastise him, collapses into an amorphous gray blob. The dwarf jumps back into a defensive position and readies his roundshield, a fine piece of craftsmanship emblazoned with the image of an axe and hammer crossed in front of an anvil.
"What the—!?" he cries as the puddle holds up something like arms in protest. He watches with a mixture of disgust and disapproval as one of the elves unapologetically approaches the creature, curious.
After a rest, the goo pulls itself together and weaves a pitiful tale of woe, claiming it only seeks a place to belong. Everyone seems to very quickly accept the creature's story except Brokk'r.
"What in the hells is wrong with all o' ye!?" he shouts, attempting to be the voice of reason. "This... thing pretends ta be a human, then tells us some sob story, and yer all just believin' it like that?" Brokk'r snaps his fingers.
He obstinately argues his point as others come to the ooze's defense, but, realizing he's outnumbered, he eventually resigns himself to shaking his head and grumbling under his breath.
"Durned fools're gonna get me kilt..."
As the group trudges along, occasionally chatting, occasionally walking in silence as each becomes lost in their own thoughts, the road passes through a copse of tree, and then takes a sharp left turn. As you round the bend, you see a pack of wolves surrounding their most recent kill, a buck with a rack of large antlers. The four wolves, engrossed in their meal, didn't notice you coming until you were right on top of them! They whirl about, snarling, not about to let you take their dinner! You have no choice but to defend yourselves!
A cool spring day. No effects
ROUND 1
Arlen
Brokk'r
wolves
Sigurd
Rai
Ike
Diceros
Go if you are bold!
Seeing the snarling beasts preparing to attack his companions, Brokk'r charges the nearest wolf putting the full force of his body behind his shield.
Arlen eyes the nearest wolf to Brokk'r other than the one he attacked and stares balefully at it then moves back behind some of his stouter comrades.
ROUND 1, FIRST HALF
Bokk'r charge the wolves, and slams his shield into the foremost (wolf 1)! He presents himself as the obvious target, alone against four enemies!
Arlen gives the wolf 2 an evil librarian look. The wolf looks disturbed, like a 10 year boy who has been talking too loudly. (failed save).
But then the wolves spring into action! They start to surround Bokk'r. Off balance from his charge (-2 AC), Bokk'r is unable to defend himself properly, and the very first wolf bites his leg (4 damage) and tries to drag him down (free trip attempt). Thankfully, Bokk'r keeps his balance, and properly defends himself from the other three.
To learn 1 piece of information, free action check: Knowledge: Nature, DC: 11. (It will be revealed next time GM posts and it will be assumed all players are told.)
BOTTOM OF ROUND 1 and TOP OF 2
Arlen
Brokk'r
wolves
Sigurd
Rai
Ike
Diceros
Go if you are bold! (everyone)
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Sigurd grabs the giant Earthbreaker hammer from his back and hefts it in both hands, balancing it for a future attack. At the same time the song he has been singing to himself grows in volume until the sound of his voice fills the clearing. It is a song to Gorum, asking the battle god for protection and strength during this fight.
Arlen tilts his inquisitively as Sigurd sings.
Rather inspiring but I suppose I should focus on the technical matters at hand.
Arlen continues to attempt staring down the wolves, hoping to aid his ally.
He also attempts to recall any useful information he may know about wolves given his years and years of reading on natural history.
The old librarian certainly knows enough about wolves to comment to his companions.
"I believe our fine Dwarven comrade would benefit from prompt aid!"
Ike was a little cautious, but surprised and appreciative of the generally warm reception... save for Brokk'r. He'd give him a wider berth until he'd better earned his trust. "Thanks... I won't take up much space, honest! Sorry to lie like that, but I figured if I showed up as a gray blob, you guys would act like... well, everyone else has. But... I'm getting better at this form thing. It's a bit weird, but... it's worth it."
He traveled quietly for a bit before the group seemed to have upset a group of wolves! And before he could do anything, Brokk'r already charged into to greet the mean animals! "NO! Leave him alone!" Ike rushed forward instinctively, and as Sigurd's song started to spread out to the area, Ike felt his body start to tremble a bit. For a moment, he feared he was about to collapse again - and so soon since he took his form! - but his worry was replaced with feral adrenaline. Zeroing in on one of the wolves, he didn't even realize that his body was morphing itself, his head wrapping and twisting itself into that of the wolves while his hands gooped together, forming a pair of furry clawed hands. "Pick on someone your own size, you fuzzy jerks!"
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Ignoring all the singing, Diceros makes a quick glance in Pygmy's direction and says, "Attack!"
(free action)
Without waiting to see if Pygmy complies, Diceros rushes across the battlefield with his spear raised to join the dwarf in battle, stopping within reach of a wolf.
"From Nature you came, to Nature you shall return!" screams Diceros, who understands that while he worships the natural world, he's dealt with enough predators attacking his tribes herds that they must be dealt with swiftly and with finality.
He jabs his spear at the wolf:
"Come and get me, ye mangy mutts!" Brokk'r growls as the wolves begin to surround him. One manages to bite his leg but is unable to wrestle him to the ground. "Nice try, pup," he taunts as he yanks his leg away from the beast.
Then the human, the real human, begins to sing to his god, and, while Brokk'r doesn't care much for Gorum himself, he finds the tune invigorating.
"Haha!" The dwarf grins recklessly as the rhinoceros joins the fray and gores one of the wolves next to him, laying it low.
Brokk'r turns to the middle of the three wolves before him and throws a gloved fist at its face.
ROUND 1 and top of 2
Arlen
Brokk'r
wolves
Sigurd
Rai
Ike
Diceros
Go if you are bold!
Snarling ferociously, Ike eyes one of the wolves trying to harass Brokk'r and lashes at it with his clawed hand, his arm stretching out to try and properly reach the beast and distract it.
Ike's first attack to help his new friends is so pitiful that he feels sick to his stomach in despair.
While trying to focus on cursing the aggressive beasts, Arlen is somewhat distracted by Ike's condition.
He has a stomach?! the elf thinks to himself. How exceptionally fascinating! I do wonder how that functions...
Rai looks at the wolves and moves so the dwarf is not in between him as cover and then tosses his bomb into combat at the center wolf!
SUMMARY OF BOTTOM OF ROUND 1 and TOP OF ROUND 2
Sigurd starts to belt out a mighty hymn, filling some of his allies with a righteous rage. It doesn't help Brokk'r, Diceros, and Ike though, who miss. Pygmy charges into the fray though, ending the first wolf.
Rai Zon chucks a homemade bomb into the melee, damaging the wolves.
Arlen eyes another wolf, who is only mildly affected (succeeds on save).
The wolves continue their snarling and biting. Two of them break off Brokk'r and attack Pygmy and Diceros. The one attacking Brokk'r gets lucky and lands a hit, but is unable to pull him down.
ROUND bottom of 2 and top of 3
Arlen
Brokk'r
wolves
Sigurd
Rai
Ike
Diceros
Go if you are bold!
Seeing Brokk'r pulled down and surrounded by wolves, Arlen opens his coat and whispers to the rabbit sitting in there.
"It seems we should take a more active role in this engagement."
Arlen steps forward and his face contorts as he shrieks at the wolf that pulled Brokk'r down.
Rai Zon's bomb splashes fire on all three wolves, who howl with pain. The middle one dodges a bit, but the two others take full damage.
The middle wolf gets hit by the scream; he is dazed for the next round.