Tyrantmaker

Game Master mourge40k

Be it so known that 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 charter the three of you received may just be a simple piece of paper, but it still heralds a fantastic opportunity for you all. Whether it represents a chance to solidify your own reputation, to bilk some yokels out of their money, or to simply get away from civilization for a while. Regardless of the end motivations, you're now on the payroll of the Swordlords, and soon to arrive at Oleg's Trading Post.

In the back of the group, a young man just entering adulthood walks with a cloak drawn over his head. He shuffles on towards the Trading Post pulling his robe tighter around him. It's not that he's cold, he's used to living in the countryside without the luxuries of a city. It's just... for the first time in his young life he felt apart from everything he knew.

His parents were dead, his home had burned down, and now he had wormed his way into a group that got a charter to explore new lands. All three of these things were by Groth's own hands, as far as he was concerned. As a decent spellcaster and Alchemist, he'd probably be handy to the group, but it was still so new to him. He was barely an adult, just 16, and already on his way to greatness. It was so exciting he could barely keep it all in. So he clutched his cloak and robe about him and continued to shuffle, sending up a silent prayer to Rolterra as thanks for her guidance in getting him into this Exploration... This journey to his Future...

Camus drew his cloak about him as he ventured towards the Trading Post. It was good to get away from the Blackjackets. Oh, they had been good to him. Given him a roof over his head. Comradery. Food. Adventure. But these weren't the things that Camus craved. They had been a stepping stone. One, perhaps he'd give some polish to, in the years to come, given the opportunity, but still nothing more than a stepping stone on his road to nobility.

Camus had nothing but the equipment in his pack, and his sword at his side. He had prayed to Lyvalia the night before for success in his venture, and that those who opposed him might meet an untimely, and unseemly doom.

But now he was off to the Trading Post. Until he arrived there, nothing could be certain of the future. What would it hold for the half-elf with a sword, who now found himself in the company of... an orc and a human. Company he was not all that certain of. Alas. Camus dropped a hand to the hilt of the sword on his belt for comfort and continued his stride.

Unlike her traveling companions, Hwee didn't seem to be doing a lot of introspection. In fact, the slightly-rotted half-orc was actually humming a happy tune as they went along, seemingly more than happy to leave her companions alone with their thoughts.

"Lovely day!" she said, slobber spraying from her mouth as she talked. "Don't undershtand why the two of you aren't talkin' more though! We're explorers! Shouldn't we get to know each other a little bit? Ach, I'll start! I'm Hwee Lasht! Combat medic, interrogator, and shwell gal! Been itching to get out here to the middle of nowhere, so that I can bring shome real civilization out here! What about you two? Why do you want to be out here, eh?"

Camus was snapped out of his thoughts by the half-orc's blabbering. "Yes. Well. I'm Camus." He stated. "I have no proper surname. Perhaps I'll find one out here." He commented. "But I rather doubt it." He added, dryly. "That said, it's considerably better than what I used to do, so you're right. I am rather looking forwards to a chance to prove myself." He told the Half-orc.

Groth didn't feel particularly... honest, at the moment. In his home country he was known as a murderer and an arson, though he still carried a little influence. He didn't want to be recognized too quickly by someone who might have known him, so he decided to lie a little. "The name's Kazura. I'm a journeyman alchemist looking to establish my trade somewhere that isn't saturated. I'm young, but I have a little bit of skill."

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

Camus gave a curt nod to the man. "Well, then I suppose you're certainly on the right path. Assuming we are successful, it will give you a near monopoly on the area. Very shrewd of you, Mr. Kazura." He said, unaware he was being lied to.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Hwee nodded at both of her companions, a smile on her face. She didn't probe any deeper than that, though, simply going back to her humming as they traveled, her curiosity apparently sated for now.

After a short while longer of traveling, they trio would reach Oleg's, which seemed to be nothing more (or less) than a somewhat rundown border fort. Four somewhat mangled-looking catapaults stood in the 20-foot high towers that made each of the corners, and ten foot wooden palisades made up the walls. A somewhat ramshackle gate completed the shoddy look of the place.

The gate is quite unfortunately closed at this moment, but a large tin bell is hanging on the outside, within easy reach of even short folks like halflings. What do you do?

Groth's lie was believed by his companions, or at least the Orc didn't really have any opinions on it at all. To them, he had just become an Alchemist instead of a Sorcerer. Wasn't a bad thing, especially given his demonic backgrounds. As they got to Oleg's in relative silence after that, the shut gate stopped the trio from just advancing without resistance.

The tin bell looked like the way of getting the gatekeeper's attention, but Groth was cautious. He took a quick look at the gate and the bell before making any decisions on what to do.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Camus's face was unreadable as the outpost came into sight. "Well. I've seen worse." He murmured. Still. It was in poor repair. It would take some time to repair. And with only three of them? He resisted a sigh. The bell outside looked inviting enough, and they had been tasked with coming here anyways. If this was to be their base of operations for a time, he determined they probably should at least enter. Camus decided to wait to see the inside of the fort before he made any further judgements, however. He noticed, however, Groth was hesitating. Camus himself was uncertain why. Did the man suspect a trap? Camus also perused their surroundings, focusing on the walls of the fort as well as the surrounding road.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Neither of you see any traps, or other signs of an ambush.

Perception: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (1) + 0 = 1

Hwee shrugged as the others looked around, a look of confusion on her face. Then she simply walked up to the bell and loudly rang it.

"Hello?! Anyone here?!"

After a short while, the gate would open, revealing a smiling human woman. She was blonde, and possessed a certain brightness and youthful look to her.

"Good afternoon to you!" the human woman said with a light Varisian accent. "Welcome to Oleg's Trading Post. May I assist you in some way?"

Groth didn't smile back at the woman, but gave a polite wave. We come on the authority of the Swordlords of Restov and the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne. Will you let us enter and set up camp? In this case, Groth couldn't come up with a lie that was better than the truth. They really did have the backing of powerful people allowing them to come here. So he went with the truth to see where it would go.

"What he shaid!" Hwee piped in after Groth, smiling widely as she did so. A bit of skin chose that moment to drop off the half-orc's face onto the ground, revealing a bit more smile than what was could be considered normal.

While a bit taken aback by the appearance of the Half-Orc, the woman recovered surprisingly quickly, and put back on a (admittedly strained) smile.

"Of course!" the woman said, quickly making a motion for the three of them to come in "The Swordlords sent word that you would be coming this way. Thank goodness they finally answered Oleg's request for guards!"

Guards? Groth was confused. He had thought that he was here to explore, to travel, to set up civilization. To honor his Deity, Rolterra, by coming to lands unknown... Not to stay watching over this worn down hovel of a town. But... a job was a job, right? A fresh start?

That's not what Groth wanted at all. He wanted power, influence, money. This land was a blank canvas. He wanted his name on it. As a guard, he could potentially make contacts with the higher ups in the town, get into places that the average citizen couldn't. That was something to be desired, yes? So he swallowed his pride and followed the woman into Oleg's Trading Post.

"I am a skilled scribe and alchemist. If you have need of other trades than just guardship, I can assist in those as well."

Camus stepped forwards. "In addition to my skills with a blade, which are considerable" He stated confidently. "I am also talented in matters of finance." He informed the woman. "A useful skill at a Trading Post, I would hope. May we be permitted entry?" Given the Trading Post was named after him, Camus expected that Oleg was likely the leader of the establishment.