The party continues their preparations as the Bear is still some distance away, Blessings ring out, Shields are cast, actions readied.
The bear ambles along with a ponderous lack of grace, moving towards the other affront to nature that defiles this temple (Vorsirion's minion.) You thought it smelt bad... from a distance. Up close the bear reaks even worse, a wave of miasma. Not enough to sicken, but pretty wretched.
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Not waiting for the others, Vorsirion leads the charge, though he stays just behind his necromatic servant, attaching from reach with his elven spear. His upright form is a model of elven fighting, looking like a bird or cat in elegance.
In contrast, the skeleton attacks with claws, mindlessly flailing at its undead companion.
Raven charges forward alongside Vorsirion, and Harbinger arcs down with immense force towards the undead abomination.
Vorsirion and Raven's attacks both hit, scoring large chunks from the decaying flesh of the beast! It seems to have an almost eerily mute reaction; it roars seconds after the attack in more annoyance than acknowledgement that a huge rotten side of it was cleaved off and a bubbling hole of bile leaks from Vorsirion's blow. The Skeleton seemed to have little effect, however.
Alamina moves to the side of the creature, lining up a clean shot before loosing her flaming crossbow bolt.
to hit, in melee, bless, +1 bolt; for piercing + fire damage
The crossbow bolt launches out like a miniature comet and strikes home on the undead bear. The stench of burning rotten bear doesn't improve the overall smell of the area or noticeably deter the monstrosity.
As Raven leaps back into a defensive stance, she coolly asks Vorsirion, "Do undead normally not react to half of them being chopped away, or is this one just really damn tough?"
Somewhat out of form, neither Elvara or her Eidolon have moved to action in the initial foray of combat. Alamina can see her companion somewhat shaken from... something. and begin to call out a spell of Shielding on Smexy as the Serpent ambles forward.
The bear, undeterred by the grievous blows it has taken launches an wretched assault of attacks on the enemy closest: Raven
The undead bear scores with a pair of nasty claws on the slayer, though his fetid bite misses. Unfortunately it also manages to pull her in closer into his mass of decaying flesh
Raven barely registers her grievous wounds as the bear pulls her into a crushing grip, and she plunges Harbinger into it as she is pulled in.
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Grapple means melee attacks automatically hit, right?
A grappled creature cannot use Stealth to hide from the creature grappling it, even if a special ability, such as hide in plain sight, would normally allow it to do so. If a grappled creature becomes invisible, through a spell or other ability, it gains a +2 circumstance bonus on its CMD to avoid being grappled, but receives no other benefit.
Vorsirion again plunges his spear into the creature, alarmed that it had grabbed Raven and doing all he can to stop it.
His skeletal servant continues its mindless assault, as well.
Alamina moves closer and channels positive energy to heal her allies.
"The lady protects and guides us!"
HP healed to living folks within 30', excluding the bear and skeleton just in case.
Elvara moves closer and makes a command in an arcane language, causing a shimmering layer of grease to form under the feet of the monstrous bear!
The bear falls prone... although the ensorcelled grease doesn't seem to make it smell worse or really improve its appearance
Smexy slithers forward and helps take a bite out of grimy undead!
Luckily for everyone involved, the eidolon appears to not have amazing sense of taste, or at least hides it well, as Smexy bites out a putrified chunk of flesh around the thing's neck. The combined toll of the wounds the party has inflicted finally appear to have made an impact, as the undead bear collapses in a meaty thump to the ground... only parts of it still on Raven.
As the undead is brought to destruction, the area seems to hold a new vibrance, as if somehow the undead's presence had deterred even insect-life. The corruption that had seeped into every pore of the temple ruins will take a more concerted effort to remove, however.
As you explore in further, there is little of note to discover: the shell of the temple remains as the largest remnant of human inhabitation. Inside the temple proper is a rough hewn cavern, with little remaining aside from a filth-covered altar to Erastil. At the base of the altar is a ruined-chain shirt that looks like it was split in half, next to fragments of other clothing, a Erastilite holy symbol, and a Composite Longbow that seems to have still survived the test of time. The Composite Longbow radiates magic (and is a +1 Mighty Composite, +3 Strength when identified.)
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Vorsirion lets his spear slide out of the bear slowly as he examines it with curiosity.
The dead! I give them to you to command...
"Someone must have created this...thing," Vorsirion observes. "It did seem strangely intelligent, for what limited contact we had with it."
As they examine and search the shrine, the elf says "I am sure some will be happy this place has been cleaned. Or at least the start of that," he adds.
Raven, with a great effort of will, extricates herself from the rotting bear. "That... was not pleasant." Shaking her head, the warrior pulls herself to her feet. "Now for the hard part. Whichever Erastilite faction we give the location of this shrine to is going to become the Erastilite church here. I say we go with the young priestess. She'll bring some new ideas, and the type of people we want here."
"I agree with you, Raven. This place is clearly a holy site of some import, and that young woman is the more progressive of the two we've met."
Seeing Raven still injured, Alamina lays her hand on her shoulder and casts a spell to heal her.
HP healed (trading in bull's strength).
"Vosirion, why do you control that abomination of a creature? The powers of the undead and negative energy are unnatural and corrupting, and I thought you of a more noble and wise bent."
As the healing light washes over Raven, the young woman locks eyes with Alamina for a moment, then looks away.
"As far as I can tell, 'Mina, something takes over Vorsirion when he's in danger. He only has limited control over the powers, as much as he doesn't want to admit it. I've seen two distinct personalities take control when Vorsirion casts his spells: one becomes active when Vorsirion summons undead, the other gets up whenever Vorsirion enhances his sword."
With little less to do at the temple at present, the group departs.
Hugging the edge of the neighboring forest, you explore a bit more uneventfully before returning to Oleg's.
The last leg of your return trip is relatively uneventful and you pass the few days back to Oleg's through previously mapped territory. Here and there signs of increased human presence can be spotted, from felled trees to hunter's signs carved in trees and rocks. You even spot a small group of kobolds heading towards Oleg's with a few large packs intended for trading; they make pleasant, if language inhibited, acknowledgement of your presence. Truly the Stolen Lands are a strange realm, which you will hold a pivotal role in.
One previously unforseen ramification of this newfounded responsibility is the reality that even adding a few days to a trip can make some people nervous. Upon your arrival at Oleg's (which shows signs of being a week closer to beginning settlement in the Stolen Lands), Kesten Garress discreetly pulls you aside before a growing group of settlers and merchants that want individual attention can overwhelm you. "Glad you got back, and that the forrest didn't swallow you up. I've managed things with the help of a few others here, but before you go gallivanting around the Stolen Lands, you might want to make an official chain of command and responsibilities." He has little else to report for the moment, other than that. At least nothing on the scope or scale of haunting in the woods.
Lloyd Rezbin has stayed at the Trading Post awaiting your return and is eager to hear about anything you might have discovered. When you arrive he is still attired in relatively fine clothing, like a noble on a hunt, however there is genuine dirt and grass stains showing on his boots making it apparent that he hasn't merely kept to his bunk in the week you were gone. His face is alight with curiosity, asking, "Well, what did you discover? Did you find the ruins?"
Raven nods grimly. "Yes, but... it appears that there is a bit more to the story." She presents the signet ring to him. "Vorsirion managed to draw some kind of vision off of it. He can give you some more details."
"This may seem unorthodox, but I think we should put Oleg in charge of economics, Svetlana in charge of settling disputes, and Kesten as the police force." Raven shrugs. "Each of their skill sets work for those jobs."
Lord Rezbin thinks for a moment as you describe the vivid scene. "You learned all that from a vision, you say?" He pauses a bit more, considering, before adding, "I'll have to look at the family history I have, but those descriptions you had sound vaguely like Glenn and Celeste Rezbin, two of my distant relatives, the last known of my family to settle in the Stolen Lands. I can't say I understand the exact circumstances, but it sounds like there was treachery of some kind, and not just some simple monster."
After discussing the ruins you investigated, Lloyd Rezbin answers a few questions about himself:
”There’s not much truly of worth to mention about me, to be honest. The Rezbin family once held esteem in the Court, although our family fortunes have dwindled. I found myself in a unique position growing up: I had a life of some privilege but little purpose. My father already had his ‘Heir and a Spare’ as it were, so I was mostly left to my own devices, so I most often spent my time under the foot of our Huntmaster or in the Library dreaming about our Family’s past. I’ve put in my socially required rounds at Court, and done minor service to the Lion Throne but really I want to be something, do something. Not just be some worthless hanger-on, you know?” He smiles wistfully. ”I know that I must sound like some spoiled rich brat looking for adventure, but I understand the hardships that will be met in these wilds and mean to prove myself.”
In the days of preparing for the initial Settlement, Oleg and Svetlana Leveton have been invaluable. Oleg often seems caught between resenting having his rustic Trading Post overwhelmed and prideful of how quickly it has become a central hub. Svetlana continues to be an admirable hostess and cook, sweetly quelling assorted flare ups of having so many strangers together before they can blossom into something more. The two make an admirable team: Oleg’s stern wisdom and Svetlana’s congenial nature are literally the groundwork from which the Settlement is springing from.
When there is a break in the organizational efforts, the Levetons draw the party into the Trading Post for a discussion of the preparations, the explorations, and the like. Gathered around the small Trading Post table Oleg starts to launch into an explanation about his plans to expand the Norther Gate before Svetlana gently pokes him in the stomach with her finger. The share a look for a moment before Oleg sighs and says ”Allright, Allright. There’s something we’ve been… discussing…” he looks to Svetlana, who returns the look with a motion of her head for him to continue, ”It’s personal but given how things are moving around here you should know. I’m not sure how much you know about our past, but before founding the Trading Post I sold my sword as a guard for hire, and was pretty good at it too. I had a hitch with House Surtova guarding one of their properties. And that’s where I met Svetlana. She was an… entertainer…” He colors at the word slightly, though she seems nonchallant. He quickly adds ”And not the way you think! Music, dancing…” Svetlana breaks in to comment ”And other things, yes. I was afforded a better life than I could have dreamed growing up, but it was a gilded cage.” Oleg continues. ”I’ll spare the exact details, but we both left the Surtovan employ, which members of the House resent. Luckily I have friends from my younger days including, a Swordlord who happened to enjoy thumbing his nose at the Surtovans. He’s the one that set me up to take ownership of this abandoned fort.” He gestures to the Trading Post walls. ”We’ve worked hard to build a life here, keeping a low profile, free from Brevic control. With Settlement efforts though, there are those that might make life difficult, which I appologize for.” He puts a capstone on the longest string of consecutive sentences you’ve heard from Oleg. ”We thought you should know.”
"If anybody makes an issue of it, I'll give them a stern talking-to. And if they still insist on making an issue of the past, I'll throw them all out of here on their arses. You two have been stalwart allies through all of this chaos, and good friends besides," Raven says bluntly. She then cracks a smile. "And I believe we still owe you for the free room and board while we were full-time exploring."
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Once the noble has excused himself, Vorsirion says to the others, "I think this Lloyd fellow could be put to good use around here. What might we have him do?"
Vorsirion glances at the ring Svetlana now wore, which the couple had thought lost and the group had retrieved. He had to admit he was growing fond of the pair.
"The past has a way of not staying in the past," he observes. "We all have things we wish would go away, but don't. But you have friends here now. I would not want to tangle with this lot. We have your back."
"You've done well for yourself, despite feeling like a hanger-on or man of leisure. There are plenty who would have lazed and grown fat and indolent with that sort of opportunity. Instead, you learned the skills necessary to live in this land, and that is commendable. I think you'll make a fine addition to this growing community, no matter what you choose to label yourself."
Listening to their story quietly, parts of it really resonate with Alamina personally.
"I would be proud to consider you caravan mates, and share a wagon wherever you'd go. If your past rears it's head and tries to make trouble, well then we'll just have to convince it that's a very bad idea!"
The two appear incredibly grateful for your continued support. "Thank you. I doubt it will come to much, or soon. We just thought it would be best for you to know.
As they approach you the pair of Erastalite clerics appear deeply engrossed in a theological discussion. The tone is friendly, but there is some definite steel in their arguments. Jhod Kavken, the middle aged male with weathered skin and balding hair remarks. "The key to any community is stability, with family and tradition the cornerstones of that stability." Latricia Evanore flips a lock of her red hair over her shoulder as she sighs, as if she's heard that line countless times before. "I agree that community is foremost, but what is a community if it is not built around its members? Would you suggest that one hunt a boar the same way you would a bear or an elk? A house be built without taking into account the specific building materials at hand? So to must the individuals shape the community, not the other way around."
The two look to the party, and mutually agree that particular conversation should wait for later. Jhod greets the party first, with Latricia joining with an emphatic nod. "And a good day to you all. I am pleased to hear your explorations fare well; as do the preparations here as well. We come today about one item in particular you found in your travels: the Stag Lord's Helm. It has served its purpose in identifying the man that terrorized the Greenbelt, but it could find another use." Latricia follows in, "We have reason to believe that the Helm is actually the [b]Deadeye's Boon, once a holy item to our faith."[/b] Jhod takes the conversation once more. "You haven't seemed to put it to use, and the Church would be willing to pay fair value for it."
Raven gives the two a craggy smile. "I'll see what I can do. The damn thing always gave me the creeps, no offense. It reminded me too much of that bastard. Glad to know that it wasn't always used for evil."
The two clerics thank you for considering their offer, although clearly there is an argument that is waiting in how it will be used.
The mercenary that has served as an impromptu leader of the Guard efforts in this area sets his greatsword aside as he sits down to meet with the party, running a finger through his bushy facial hair that hasn’t been groomed in some time. The dust of travel still clings to him lightly as he apparently is just back from a patrol. He gives a light nod before beginning his report. ”No sighting of bandits in the last few weeks, nor have we had any unexplained disappearances or disturbances for a few days at least. Things have seemed almost civilized, and it seems our efforts with Fort Sarenko have born fruit. Merchants have been much more inclined to travel this way now that the have some assurance of safety. And it is to that point I wanted to speak to you. This is a good thing you have going on here, a chance at something more than a cold road. I admire the way that you apprehended our fugitive mercenary and respect the strength that you’ve brought to this region. So far, my men and I have operated in an unofficial fashion, and I would wish to make a more formal arrangement as head of the guard. You will need men and blades as you forge your settlement down south, and I can help bring both.”
A garrulous and somewhat girthy gentleman is the next to approach the party, wearing a suit of somewhat outrageously colorful clothing and a floppy hat. He has an almost infectious grin as he sets down his bulk into the rough chair and takes a pull from a wooden mug full of ale.
"Ah, and a good day to you all. I am the gregarious Grigori, storyteller and songsmith. Tales of your exploits have already begun to spread to Brevoy and beyond, and I expect that there will be many more that I intend to chronicle, with first hand accounts if possible. So tell me, is it true that that you fought back owlbears and giants to conguer the Stag Lord? And defeated a demon worshiper to restore peace with the kobold tribe?"
@Kesten Garess:
"That's comforting to hear, about the potential for civilization and all. More trade and more people will only aid that goal, yes? You know, you should see someone about your beard, it's rather wild and in need of a trim."
Alamina laughs at the large man, obviously road-weary herself.
"But who am I to speak, right? Anyways, I think you're doing a fine job here, and we'll ertainly have to talk about making your role more formal and permanent, assuming that's something you'd be interested in."
@Grigori:
"There was an owlbear, yes, but it wasn't much of a fight in the end. We came to an agreement with many of the Stag Lord's followers, and after he fell in combat, they realized they'd be better off on the side of the law."
"As for the kobolds, we aided them.in an internal power struggle. One of their tribe became a bit mad and dangerous, and we helped them free that group from his grasp. I don't know about demon worship, tjough."
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This soldier seems adept...
After the group has discussed Kesten Garess, Vorsirion says to his companions "This group could be very helpful in maintaining order. I wonder where we might build some simple fortifications such as palisades to protect them."
After the bard introduces himself, Vorsirion does not look particularly interested in having tales told about him. "First-hand accounts of our exploits? What exactly do you have in mind?"
Raven nods. "I've actually been thinking about asking you about this for a while. You've been helping maintain order here for months, as well as acting as our secretary," she flashes a craggy smile, "and I think it's high time you get the budget and the pay to really help your efforts."
Raven snorts at Grigori's rather... colorful descriptions of their exploits. "If we fought actual giants, you'd be talking to a bunch of decaying globs of pulverized meat rather than people right now. You're probably thinking of Auchs. Biggest man I have ever met. Simple, but a nice sort. He was just following the only people who would take care of him."
Grigori puts pen to paper, recording down the stories you recount, nodding to himself and punctuating a few more questions with motions of his flagon. "A kobold power struggle? Interesting. No dragons, I take it?" He seems perhaps a bit disapointed that Auchs was a mere man. "Well, he has the strength of ten, so I've heard, suplementing the strength of the bests kept imprisoned?"
A final prospective leader, Akiros makes a personal visit from the liberated Stag Lord's Keep. He's cleaned up well in the weeks since you first met him; his clothing is far cleaner, although his tabard of Erastil is no longer in evidence. A keen eye notes that a golden chain with a bulge that might be a charm or symbol is peeks from the top of his shirt. He surveys the work that has been done on the Trading Post with a critical eye. "You have made impressive progress here; the fortifications built will make this an important bastion at the edge of civilization, and a stopover for deeper within your fledgling kingdom. I have come to report that our efforts on the keep ruins have likewise been fruitful; I've managed to keep the remnant of the ex-brigands together long enough to enact repairs. Auchs in particular, with proper direction. There is still considerable effort should you choose to move your seat of responsibility there, but I believe that the keep itself could be reconditioned much more quickly than building a similar structure from scratch."
"We could live in a castle? With the moat, towers, and crenellations and everything? I mean, I would miss Oleg and Svetlana but a real life castle!"
Alamina seems extremely excited about the prospect of a castle-home.
"Plus, the place is on the water and further south than the tradepost, so that's a good place to set up ahop."
Raven nods. "Glad I didn't have to fight him, personally." She gives a small chortle. "Come to think of it, most of our goals here have been accomplished either through diplomacy or subterfuge."
Raven nods. "Indeed. This is a good place to direct people, but I have no doubt that Oleg and Svetlana would like to get their home back at some point. A dedicated trading post is a good idea as-" Raven blinks for a moment, apparently stunned. "Wait. Back up a moment. Did you just say 'kingdom?'"
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Vorsirion seems finished with Grigori, having little interest in having their exploits documented and embellished.
As for the keep, however, he does have great interest. "I had thought the structure might prove useful, rather than start new construction. I think it would be wise to station our small armed forces there."
Akiros shrugs his massive shoulders as he regards Raven. "The Stag Lord claimed all the Stolen Lands would be his kingdom. Do you not share such aspirations? Regardless, you have settlers and soldiers; followers and forts. What would separate your plans from a kingdom?"
With a slow motion to ensure that no alarm is raised, he draws his greatsword from his scabbard. "Regardless, my sword is yours, should you direct me. I have nothing else to offer or care for."
Raven's interest in drawing Chief Sootscale into a more permanent alliance is politely rebuffed. A half-dozen kobolds escorting a shipment of raw ores to be purchased bear a rough piece of parchment:
"Softskins, I am in your debt for saving my people, yet at this time I can ill afford to leave them as we rebuild the shatters and ruin left by the Traitor. Perhaps we can come to some arrangement in the time to come. Until then, I wish you peace and prosperity."
Chief Sootscale
Raven nods solemnly at Akiros' offer. "I accept your sword, Akiros. We need men of conviction and strength in this... whatever this actually is."
Raven gives a small smile at the Chief's surprising eloquence. She then pens her own reply while the kobolds are negotiating for their shipment. Chief Sootscale, regardless of your decision, your citizens will continue to be treated as equals here. I look forward to continuing to foster trade and relations between your people and mine.
Raven Sirkas
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Vorsirion silently regarded Chief Sootscale's missive with satisfaction. He had seen no need to involve the creatures here, and thought it would only lead to trouble.
As for their ongoing efforts, he thought it wise to occupy the keep before someone else did.
"Should we send these soldiers to the keep, then? Perhaps we should accompany them, then continue exploring around it. We did not have much opportunity to explore the areas directly around it. If we are to make it our new base of operations, perhaps we should do so."
Raven nods. "We'll accompany Kesten's troops and make sure that there isn't any friction between the inhabitants of the keep and the soldiers."
"Sounds like a plan to me. Plus, we get to stretch our legs out on the road again! I like this little city-place here around Oleg's plenty, and all the people are super nice, but I really love moving around from place to place."
Alamina looks wistful for a moment, lost in thought.
"Maybe once we have a couple of real proper settlements, we will attract some of my people. We'll have to keep an out of the Sczarni thugs, of course, but a few families trading and sharing their art would really make this place seem like home!"
"And you're wrong about a seventh thing," says Ryle, addressing Thurl as he disembarks the caravan, "the liquidity of Thrunic reserve currencies is vastly overstated. Too many overlapping devils' deals make it all tied up, and probably impossible to determine the true owners until the firms are willing to pay to bring it to court."
The man stepping out alongside the half-orc has bronze, smooth (for his age) skin that betrays both a noble and a Keleshite origin, though his beard is scraggly. He wears fine noble's clothes, with a high thread count, but they look like they could use a wash.
He unloads chests of books, and, then, with considerably more delicacy, boxes of glassware. "I have acquired something of an amateur interest in alchemy," he seems eager to explain.
"I am glad we are all in agreement concerning that this shall not be a predator kingdom, and that we reject the abominable practice of slavery," he says, "though I should note that we must also accept what that means in a place like this, with much open land. Nobles from settled countries naturally like to think that personal freedom, and their ability to collect rent from tenants, are compatible. Not so here. Here a free peasantry means a free peasantry, and good for it - but it also means the state will have to think more explicitly and creatively about how to generate revenue. Mining rights and river passage are the most obvious place.
"Now, on the other thing. We all have the temptation to allow ourselves a certain degree of latitude in deciding matters of state on a case-by-case basis - a temptation that morality and reason counsel for as well, to an extent. But we must remember the importance of calculable law for commercial activity to succeed. If we were dealing with a more literate population I would suggest importing major parts of the pre-Thrunic lex Cheliactis, but given the nationality and illiteracy of most of our settlers it would be better to take the Rostland Book of Precedents as a base - closest to what most people will expect - and ensure that any deviations are formally written up and available - both in print and clearly communicated to village elders." He thuds a book for emphasis. Additionally, the ability to create these exceptions needs to be clearly delineated itself."
"I get the impression that both the codger and the kid want us to pronounce the others heretics," he says, rolling his eyes, "which I'm less than eager to get in the business of. It seems we all prefer Leticia's approach - more respectful to the material composition of our leadership..." he pauses to look at the ladies of their small council... "and more appropriate to a young nation, eager to adopt new, modern, effective ideas. But I don't want her to imagine that we're granting her much greater authority than to religiously officiate at state functions - and thereby signal to the mass of people that their god approves of both us and a bit of theological liberalism. Other than that they can both have their flocks and, in accordance with divine will," he smiles, "let the market decide. Other than that, the religious policy of the state can be limited to hanging priests of Gyronna, or at least assuring angry farmers that it will hang any priests of Gyronna when it finds ones more serious than a few brokenhearted girls letting off steam at night chanting imprecations at churls."
"You're new here, so this may be something of a shock to you, but there are a few things in the River Kingdoms that you just don't DO."
Alamina ticks on her fingers,
"Walk Any Road, Float Any River. You can't block roadways or tax rivers. Not without losing your people, anyways."
"Courts are for Kings. We can't expect anyone of the other sovereigns to listen to our rules."
"There arenothers, but those are the important ones for now. I don't know how you work the whole taxes and stuff, but road tolls and river fees won't fly around here."
"Does that custom apply just to individual travelers, granting them free passage, or to commercial cargo as well?" He turns to a clean page, and starts writing something. "And what is our composition of settlers to longstanding locals? We should only expect the former to increase, of course, if we succeed. Settlers may of course come from the South, too, but they'll be self-selected. What do the Riverlanders accept as valid revenue, by the way? Randomly shaking down anyone they can find without arms, to judge by the state of most of the region? You know, it's like that old adage, if taxation is criminal, only criminals will collect..."
Ryle realizes he's gotten a little overheated and allowed genuine questions to become rhetorical ones, and pauses before returning to his original composure.
"I'm sorry, for that but - I mean it genuinely now: what is and isn't going to get people up in arms? Can we charge for commercial cargo? Mining rights?" He divides the page into two columns. "Norms change in response to different environments, and they'll have to if these lands are to become civilized, but I'm willing to start with current realities."