Megan's Kingmaker PbP

Game Master Megan Robertson

Looking at the wolves, Rhasadilara responds, "They will be welcome to roam in the area of the forest we have chosen to set aside. Among mankind, there will be those that attack for sport, much as that one," she points at the cooling corpse of the worg, "so the wild spaces will be their safest course in the future. I see to make sure that some wild spaces remain - for them, for the deer, for the birds. And for such as myself."

"Please share that with them."

Lothar is standing by, hoping that no further conflict arises but ready in case it does.

The wolves lie down flat on their bellies.

"We may have to consider how much land is set aside an how best tah monitor tha ongoings within it."

"Invaders might seek tah travel through it whilst on tha march."

"Indeed. And citizens with less respect for the wildlife will try to take advantage of a protected hunting ground. We will have to have someone in place to watch over the land. I had considered it could be me when the time comes, but anyone with a proven respect for the land and the ability to live on it without creating undue burden would be welcome to apply, I think. Minor harvesting of lumber and meat and fur in exchange would not be out of the question."

"But no wholesale lumber operation or slaughter for a profit."

Seems like we had this conversation a very long time ago, but I'm not going to go search for it.

It was something that was discussed, over the table at Oleg's I think, but that was rather in the abstract. Now reality stares you in the face.

Still lying down, one of the wolves 'speaks' - to most ears mutterings and whinings.

"They have agreed, though we must designate an area."

"I had thought the plains where we found tha monument to tha barbarian." Near the N on the map, "An tha woods thereabout, keeping them away from tha fey, tha temple, an tha Boggard."

Listening to the exchange between his fellow Wardens, Lothar eased his stance, allowing his beast, his inner dragon, to recede back to dormancy. After a moment, he spoke.

That seems a good area to designate as a nature preserve. No civilians would be allowed to hunt within its borders. There'd be other regulations as well, but that can be roughed out later. The Vudran looked around at the gnomes. For now, our main priority is to safely escort these folk where they need to be.

The description sounds correct, but I don't know which N on the map you are referring to.

Rhasadilara nods in agreement at the suggestion. "It will have to be decided before settlers arrive where the borders are, but I think that area is suited, yes."

The one designating north in hex A1....

I would have to check, but that seems to be a long, long way from what we proposed previously. Seems like we did some exploring in some hexes that are still grayed out - do I owe you an updated map, dear DM? I was thinking more in the area of D7 and C6.

EDIT: Here's a link: Where was the unattended pit trap where we rescued the creature and later returned to fill in the pit?

The gnomes, who have by now regained their composure even if they are looking a bit askance at Barnabus growling away with the wolves, say that they are just passing through mapping the area.

The trapped thylacine was in C6, by the way.

The following are not necessarily adjacent events.

Satisfied that the witch has the wolves calmed down, Rhasadilara sheathes her sword. Seeing the gnomes' reaction to Barnabus, she smiles, "It is a gift. You do not want to know what the horses think of being ridden all day. On whose behalf are you mapping these lands?"

Looking at the defeated creatures, the ranger asks, "Barnabus? Do your new friends take offense to furharvesting? I am not interested in wolf meat, but we might be able to sell a fine pelt - but I will not skin their compatriots if they object."

Bows to the gnome..."I do not know such things, though I have found tha ability to ask to be a gift unto itself..."

Feral speech:
"How is it to you, for a man to take and wear the coat of a wolf?"

The wolves reply "How would you like your hide used by someone else?"

One of the gnomes steps forwards. "I am Jubilost Narthropple," he announces grandly. He's a flamboyant fellow, and sporting a black eye.

"I am the leader of this expedition. We are surveying and mapping the Stolen Lands, looking in particular for an ancient, abandoned dwarven outpost rumored to be located in the region. Have you come across such in your travels?"

Feral speech:
"Not so uncommon as that, the women who raised me threatened more than once to use my hide, eat my flesh and make my bones into a stool...I assumed if they did I would not care for I would be in the great beyond."

@Jubilost
"They seem to frown upon the hide being worn."

Feral speech
"What use would be acceptable? If it were used to wrap babies to protect the young pups from the cold of winter?"

Jubilost didn't ask the question.

"Never mind, Barnabus, I should have expected as much. We will leave them to the elements."

"Master Narthropple. We are working to settle this area of the Stolen Lands. We have a small community started." She gestures toward the town. "However, the three of us have probably seen as much of this area as anyone and that doesn't sound familiar to me. Can you tell me more about this lost outpost? Perhaps a clue in the legend will allow us to point you in the right direction."

Lothar turned to regard Jubilost intently, eager to hear more of what he had to say.

The wolves look unhappy. One says/snarls "If a wolf is dead naturally it no longer needs its fur. To kill for the fur is unacceptable to us."

"I'll tell you what I know,"[b] begins Jubilost. [b]"We are looking for an ancient guard post in the forested hills between the southern Narlmarches and the Kamelands. The fort was built by dwarves ages ago to guard a long-a forgotten trade route; later denizens, it's said, dug out natural caves behind the worked halls to expand the small guard post.

Feral speech
"Yes that I understand....we still must determine where you and the thycanthe can roam free and unaccosted by man."

"Sounds like a cozy home, that. Wolves are ok with using fur from a wolf who had died naturally, but not one killed for the fur."

Feral Speech
"Can we use the Worg fur? After this talk I may become unable to understand you again until tomorrow, can you return to us in the evening?"

Nodding, "That is understandable."

She crouches down near each of the animals in an effort to signal a truce or respect through her actions. "My power is limited, but as far as I can, you and yours will not be hunted for your fur. It is all I can offer."

She holds out a hand as she would for a domesticated animal, so they can identify her in the future. She doesn't presume to pet them.

Wild Empathy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

The wolves cautiously sniff at Rhasadilara's hand. One says "You may have the worg's fur if you wish. We will go and find someplace else if you upright walkers want to be here."

The gnomes look a bit bemused at the sight of people holding a conversation with wolves. Jubilost is scribbling notes as he watches.

Feral speech.
"Let us determine tha places later when tha influx o men can be controlled."

Waves to the wolves......

"It might be best to speak to the gnomes first, an return to tha wolves tomorrow."

The wolves trot off, feeling themselves dismissed.

Rhasadilara watches them go, relieved that they did so peacefully. She turns to the worg and prepares to skin it, but she will respect the canines' wishes about their kin.

Unsure of appropriate skill to roll:

Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

Survival: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 28

Probably Survival...

I'd think survival... anyway, Rhasadilara now has a worg pelt. It will need curing, of course.

The gnomes are talking amongst themselves.

Waiting for the gnomes to finish their conversation.

You know gnomes. They can talk for days, weeks even...

His impatience showing, Lothar moved toward the gathered gnomes. Have you decided what you are doing? We cannot waste any more time here. The Vudran looked to Jubilost for the answer to his queries, as he seemed to be the spokesman and leader of this expedition team.

Barnabus is surprised by Lothars impatience....he instead folds his arms and legs and sits quitely.

"I'll tell you what I know," begins Jubilost. "We are looking for an ancient guard post in the forested hills between the southern Narlmarches and the Kamelands. The fort was built by dwarves ages ago to guard a long-a forgotten trade route; later denizens, it's said, dug out natural caves behind the worked halls to expand the small guard post.

Rhasadilara ponders the description for a moment to see if it sounds like someplace she has seen.

Geography: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15 Additional +2 if Plains bonus applies

At Lothar's impatience, she simply puts a hand on his forearm, willing him to wait a bit longer, but saying nothing.

Rhasadilara cannot recall having seen anything that matches the gnome's description.

When Lothar interrupts them, the gnomes fall silent and stare at him. Jubilost steps forward.

"What do you mean? We already have our intentions, and we intend to continue exploring and mapping, thank you very much."

Lothar's stern gaze became a glower. Yes, we get that. My main concern is your security. Which means that we'll likely be accompanying you. Of course, if there is no need for our assistance with safe guarding you, then I will drop the matter entirely so that my fellow Wardens and I can continue on our way.

Barnabus notes pride as a folly of these small folk, is it only these or are they all this way he wonders. These at least he knows how to deal with in the future.....I really big boiling pot.....

"We appreciate any efforts to map our lands, just don't try and claim anything without our authority."

Turns dismissively away from the gnomes....
"Where to Wardens?"

Rhasadilara looks at her fellow wardens for a moment before speaking. "You have made it this far without issue and would likely have been fine without encountering the worg and his pack." Patting the furry bundle tied onto Sunset's saddle, she adds, "Since he is no longer a threat, we will wish you safe travels. Know, however, that we have encountered much worse than the worg in our exploration of these lands and you would do well to be careful. We would be remiss if we didn't meet up again some time to compare notes. You are sure to find new things of interest to us and we might find your guardpost. Please stop by the settlement," she indicates the direction and distance, "so we may visit again before you return to your homeland."

It would seem that gnomes try even Lothar's patience.

Jubilost's eyebrows (which are very bushy) shoot up almost to his hairline.

"Oh! You wish to offer your services as guards, do you? What is your fee? Your audition was certainly impressive!"

When Rhasadilara indicates the location of the settlement, he whips out parchment and pen to scribble notes.

"We haven't been that way yet, but we will surely call in when we do. Are there any competent mapmakers there?"

"Or brewers?" chips in another gnome, who has a large belly and a red nose.

Jubilost glares at the red-nosed gnome.

"Which areas have you laid claim to?"

Barnabus takes out the charter......

"All of it!"

"I am afraid we have tasks that prevent us from acting as caravan guards. You may well find some interested individuals at the settlement."

"The lands do not belong to the Wardens of the Green. The Wardens were charged with its exploration so that it might be opened up for settlement. Personally, I seek to assure that some of the wilderness remains even as settlers arrive. I'm not completely sold on civilization as the best answer to much of anything. You and yours could certainly make your case to become settlers, if you wish. When we meet again, we can discuss how such an arrangement could be to our mutual benefit."

Jubilost nods.

"I see... we are not intending to settle, unless perhaps the outpost we seek appears to be suitable. When we are done exploring, might you be interested in purchasing a map of the areas to which you are laying claim?"

"Who knows gnomish maps are known for excellence, in both scale and detail, we may one day have need o full scale mapping o tha whole o tha kingdom."

Extending a hand to the gnome in the human fashion, Rhasadilara nods, "As Barnabus says, indeed we might."

Jubilost cracks a grin as he takes Rhasadilara's hand and shakes it, clearly no stranger to this typically human gesture.

"Indeed, and my maps are noted even within gnomish circles for their accuracy!" he says proudly.

"Perhaps when we visit the settlement - your capital, I take it - we can discuss the matter further. Maybe rather than sell you copies of the maps I am making now you might like to commission one of your own to cover the lands to which you have laid claim."

His eyes twinkled at the prospect.

"Indeed."

"You may seek Oleg's and see first hand arriving settlers, near tha South Rostland road, where it dips into tha green belt, or see tha fortress proper where tha Skunk, Thorn and Shrike rivers all empty into the Tuskwater lake."

"We know Oleg's Trading Post, yes," said Jubilost, "But we have not gone as far south as Tuskwater Lake yet, although we have heard of it."

At Jubilost's offer of employment, Lothar visibly bristled, as though the vilest of insults had been hurled his way.

Putting a hand out to forestall any response from her partner, Rhasadilara says, "Let us part ways and continue with our tasks, then, and perhaps meet again at the Tuskwater. If you must depart, you can leave a message for us with Oleg or Svetlana."

Rhasadilara is visibly ready to move on and it seems that the gnomes are a thorn in Lothar's side, so she is that much more interested in proceeding. I'm not sure anymore where we were going next, however.

The ranger strides over to Sunset and springs into the saddle smoothly. Waving to the gnomes, she clucks to the horse and they begin to move away slowly to allow her companions time to mount up and join her.

The gnomes also busy themselves preparing to depart.

Lothar took a moment to gather himself. Indeed, he was somewhat embarrassed by his actions.

What was it about gnomes that set him on edge? The Vudran couldn't put a finger on anything in particular. And he didn't have time to fully ponder it now. There was work to be done and it was past time to do it.