Thron's Altered Kingmaker (Now Litejedi's)

Game Master Litejedi

Ending Balance = 39 BP
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A few days after returning to the Vale, her Baroness Chrysa was called upon by a collection of strange bedfellows. The weavers, the carpenters, and the attendants of the Rose Garden, led by none other of a pairing of Svetlana (on her way to becoming a delightfully creative alchemist) and Rina (the Calistrin mistress of the Garden).

It seems they all came up with a new venture. Now that more traffic of a certain sort was coming into the city to hide away their ill-gotten gains in the Shadowvale bank, more entertainment options were needed to keep the coin flowing into all their hands.

So they wanted to build a theater. A rowdy, bawdy, more than a little crass, but heavily tongue-in-cheek affair. Carpenters making the sets, weavers making the costumes, attendants playing the roles, and Svetlana's lot providing the refreshments.

Silence lingered in the hall after the pitch, as the auburn-haired baroness considered at length. In truth, Chrysa was just drawing it out. They had her at 'keeping the coin flowing.' She even had a star for the store, that comely temptress Orri had. The sounds she belted out that night she rewarded him... perfect for such a show.

After some arrangements between Chrysa and Sophiel, it was decided that Baltor should oversee the construction of a proper mine on the mountains between their lands and the centaur highlands. It was an honor to Torag for him to do such project, so Baltor was overjoyed with the offer and opportunity.

Baltor sent messages to Brunderton, Restov and even to Highhelm, asking for able dwarfs to join him in this entrepreneurship. The pair of rulers arranged for funds to be delivered by boat and Baltor wasted no time in prepairing the terrain, even if it would take a loooon time to do so.

Initial BP: 24

Claiming the hex (1BP) and preparing the site for construction (12BP). This will take 4 (!) months, and will be finished on Turn 14.

Final BP: 11

Turn 10 Gozran 4711AR
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Balance=26 BP:

Ending Balance=42 BP

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Sophiel returned to Gliocas and spent most of her time with cartographers, as well as Namara, who had a gift for strategy. The tiefling woman. Sophiel often had heated discussions with the woman, who seemed fervently aggressive in advocating for Sophiel and Gliocas, but strangely ruthless. If Sophiel had an unkind word about her, though, it was never uttered.

Jhod, Tyg, and Perlivash came to her with the collapse of the other baronies, and Sophiel welcomed them with open arms, glad to have more friends.

Her first task, however, was to craft a scepter of administratorship, one which she hoped would serve as the beacon of authority for Gliocas in perpetuity - that which she could pass off to the duly-elected prime minister... whenever she could that sorted out, she hoped in many years. Once crafted, and once she settled into things in Tri Firinnean, she assisted some of her followers, as well as Marcanth, in advancement - teaching them a good deal about management, justice, and law, requiring that each pass exams administered by the University before taking official civil service roles. The roles seemed to become more formal at this point, and more structured, which led to a reshuffling. Jhod became Warden, this time, and Tyg and Perlivash together took the role of Spymaster, as Poaz wished to study at the university.

Meanwhile, Gliocas began to accumulate resources to turn the Stag Lord's fort into a proper castle, it seemed. The wooden palisades and crude fortifications were carefully replaced with more greenwood structures, and carefully crafted walls of stone, but much of the work was slow - Sophiel noted many mistakes in the original construction and had to improve on the design.

Just RP time, showing she's building the castle next round.

Sootscale Turn

Turn 10 Gozran 4711AR
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Balance=47 BP

Ending = 48 BP - but his sheet gives him 1 extra somehow (not sure how)

Sootscale continued to expand his underground empire under Sophie's lands.

He built a quarry and a farm in the new space, and also an Herbalist and home in Silvermine.

Turn 11 Desnus 4711AR
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Balance=42 BP

Ending Balance = 33

The time spent adjusting everyone to formal civil service roles seemed to have paid off. Sophiel directed the bureacracy to expand the speed at which land was claimed. The directive was met easily.

Sophiel further directed the cartographers and surveyors to build towards the holding of the vassal that she and Chrysa had begun to employ - Baltor, the wise dwarf who seemed to take to the mine like a fish to water. She also worked on feeding her burgeoning populace, and building up the road system to the new settlement.

Meanwhile, in Tri Firinnean, it seems that the building material that was being collected near the ruins was, in fact, not going to be used for the castle after all. Whether an intentional feint, or changing her mind, Sophiel quickly erected a new college as part of her university system instead - the Trinity Music and Storytelling Academy. The primary building of the academy was Orr Hall, named in honor of her friend Orri and his town of Orrville, both of which left the River Kingdoms far too soon...

Baltor oversees the cleaning and preparation of the slopes of the mountains while he works on a couple itens that might be useful to help his new companions.

His workers finish a smithy that they had started the previous month and begin to work on a temple of Torag.

Unchanged BP. 2/4 months for the preparation of the terrain.

Ending Balance = 41 BP
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The month was good. Things were done, entertainment expansions, to make Shadowvfall into a dirty little getaway that Rostaland FORBIDS people to go to. Which is perfect for tourism by the way, insisting people should not go there, attracts so many to see Why?

Lilly is a marvel on the stage, curvy and flirtatious, and quite willing to entertain admirers, especially of a certain pocketbook size or ear lobe pointedness. The honey tarts of a master baker laced with the purest moon radishes help along with any and all indulgences. A delighted Calistrian cleric works her magic to cozy and coddles secrets from young and old. And the raspberry man is always on hand to end any violence that gets too out of control. That and any members of the army on leave that knows they can get a nice bit of bonus being sheriffs at the right time.

Law and order, the Fall is known for, as long as the laws are limited and the order is semi at best.

The new inn is bustling. The tavern is bursting with all sorts. Coin is flowing and the Fall is happy. All to fund new minds, new swords, and greater growth.

Chrysa the Fall's very own beautifully cursed baroness is present on all nights of heavy debauchery, but stays to the side, as all good rulers do, above and in control. In truth, she both mourns a friend, the possible love of her life, and worse is worried, as always something bad is about to happen.

Good streaks never last.

Turn 11 Desnus 4711AR
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Balance=48 BP

Ending Balance = 60

Sootscale keeps expanding under the surface. This time, his aggressive expansion seems to nearly unglue the social fabric of his country, as some kobolds get restless with his new demeanor and odd replaced eye, but he manages to quell the issues and keep adding to his granary.

Turn 12 Sarenith 4711AR
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Balance=33 BP

Ending Balance = 37

Sophiel kept everything organized, and the bardic college seemed to dramatically improve her standing with the people. The university seemed to be an incredible investment in their eyes, and feast after feast... after feast was held in all the holdings, with students from the college traveling far to entertain all within the river kingdoms. If there were any doubts about Sophiel's plans- they were utterly obliterated, at least for the month...

The former Temple of Erastil was the site of the new settlement. Though away from the river, Sophiel remembered how meaningful Erastil was to Jhod, and how he brings comfort to many regular people. Sophiel knew that expansion, justice, and harmony, weren't just empty words. Her devotion to Magdh didn't mean others couldn't believe what they liked, and the followers of Erastil had always steadfastly supported her plans.

As for Gliocas, it extended further and further towards Silverstep. She owed it to Perlivash and Tyg to control the lake, as well as Melianse, and to Baltor, to get him support as quickly as possible.

The preparations for his mine continue in a steady pace.

Baltor's temple is almost finished by the end of the month, and Baltor starts to plan the building of a beautiful statue to honor Torag.

Unchanged BP. 3/4 months for the preparation of the terrain.

Ending Balance = 51 BP
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Weavers and a touch of lust provided for both sexes lead to some of the most delightful clothing purchases this side of Golarion. Chrysa somehow manages to find a diamond in her rough. Penny, a perfectly prudent outwardly prudish young woman with a delish streak a mild wild hidden in her creavises. An amazing fashion visionary, mabye the best this side of Golarion, taking the delicate silks and sheer cottons and developing... Art! The dancers and actors that have a new home here are all expertly draped in the latest stunning collections, vivid displays of what can be bought for those that can afford it. The baroness is actually amazed about how much lusts can be enflamed by simply 'Looking'.

Imagination and pure delight.
exotic artisan, a dress and suit maker. Very high end

The excited masses for all things not approved continue to pour in, making the baroness open another 'dance hall' so her eager participants can indulge in spending their coin.

new dance hall, with a house to offset the increased unrest

The Fall's residents get a new settlement to house the artisans who need to get away from the tourists. Butter, which Chrysa has no idea why the residents decide to call it such. She had thought of an elegant name to speak of all their great skill, but Butter stuck and why she had no idea. Maybe the artists are like butter to the bread of life. Crap logic but who is she to complain about happy producers.

Oddly she creates a residence in Butter where she makes sure to spend more than a few nights every week.

Sootscale's Turn

Turn 12 Sarenith 4711AR
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Balance=60 BP

Ending Balance = 60

Sootscale kept tunneling in the dark space deep, deep below Gliocas and Shadowfall, but still found fertile stone to quarry, as well as caves with soil and enough water to allow for more mushroom farming.

He improved Silvermine a little with a new Exotic Artisan shop, and improved the stability of the kingdom in the process.

You all awaken suddenly, each of you covered in a cold sweat. You find yourselves laying in your night clothes on the soft, leave covered floor of a forest at nighttime. There is an eerie, unearthly silence permeating the woodlands. Each of you are present, uncertain of how you got here, wherever here is…

Wary, always, even in her dreams. No, ESPECIALLY in her dreams, the auburn-haired small woman moves slowly to a crouch, scanning the walls of the forest before looking to her companions. "is this real?" she asks simply and quietly.

Sophiel woke with a start, ”blast it.” She checked herself for injuries and looked around, muttering something. She sighs, ”theres always a bigger fish.” She looks around to confirm whether her companions are around, and then does an inventory of their supplies and gear.

Chrysa has a moment, a small sliver of a moment when her defenses crumble. The confidently composed woman with apparent streaks of ruthless intelligence is gone, leaving a very scared child falling deep into a pit of despair. Then it is gone, ruthless beat scared back into the basement.

"I've been here before. Conveniently a place that proved a pivot point of my entire life. So either something very powerful teleported us all here, or this is a dream and you've been sucked into one of mine." the baroness reaches for her blades, but nothing is there. She is only garbed in a soft tunic and leggings. Covered from foot to wrist as always.

Knowledge (arcana): 1d20 + 27 ⇒ (6) + 27 = 33
Knowledge (geography): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (8) + 15 = 23
Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24
Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (15) + 18 = 33

Sophiel doesn’t look tense or frightened. She breathes deeply, says ”hmmmm,” quietly and looks around, obviously thinking.

Also, detect spirits: At 1st level, a menhir savant can detect the presence of undead; fey; outsiders; and astral, ethereal, or incorporeal creatures. This ability functions like detect undead, and the druid detects all of these creatures rather than trying to detect one kind.

If Chrysa is correct, 1) can Sophiel know where we are? 2) does she know where the Evergrove is, relative to here? 3) if is this the Evergrove - can we make our way to the Forest Pools? 4) can we transport to there as soon as possible, via a tree?

"This can be nothin' but a drream." Baltor says, certain of his words. "Ve verre all in differrent places and I'm not vearrin' my arrmorr... see, my arrmorr is enchanted so I can sleep in it vith no trrouble at all. This could only be a drream, even if a strrange one."

The sound of a bonfire crackling suddenly becomes evident as it's light manifests in the distance through the trees. From your current location, you can see that several tents and lean-tos have been set up as a camp in an area around the bonfire.

You can make out several humanoid figures standing and sitting around the small camp. And still, the only sound you hear that is not from those of you collected here is the crackling of burning wood.

Until a deep shriek of a man in pain cuts through the silence from the direction of the camp.

Sophiel stands up, ”It does not appear we are in the first world, unless my senses deceive me. Regardless, I would try to leave this place. Would anyone care to join me? I will attempt to travel by tree.” She points at the tree nearby, when she hears the scream.

She shakes her head, ”obviously this is intended to lure us into some sort of trap or conflict. Most of us are quite useless without armor or weapons - I would advise we ignore that and try to escape.”

Chrysa knows what is happening, remembers it vividly. "Anyone that could have pulled us all here into a dream could have dropped us into conflict immediately." the small woman says sensibly. Turning to look at Soph "It's better if you wait here anyway." the pain underlining her words is barely able to be hidden at all. "Or leave."

Chrysa starts to run toward the camp. Bare feet in the soft soil of the recent rains. She remembers the smells of comforting damp moss and the sickening sweetness of burnt flesh mingling into a nightmare.

Sophiel calls after her, ”is it better to replay the events then? Let’s change the story.” She raises her arms up and then drops them, sighing. She looks up, and mouths an extremely quiet prayer, then waves at everyone to follow, and takes after Chrysa.

"Don't be a fool Chrysa." The vampire says sharply, seemingly completely unconcerned by the sudden manifestation. He reaches out to the Lady of Shadowfall and his touch makes her blood rise to the surface of her skin, almost as though she's blushing with her whole body. There is a brief flash and the effect fades.

"There, now you have at least some protection." Vincent says, before reaching out (carefully) to do the same to Baltor. "Fortunately I had only just awoken and have yet to expend any magic this night."

Mage armor for anyone who wants it.

With that done Vincent leads the way, keeping Chrysa back with the full force of his stare. "I am more resilient and possessed of far more resources than you are right now." The teenaged looking vampire says firmly. "Be sensible and stay behind me."

Baltor also follows Chrysa. Believing this to be a bad dream, he isn't entirely worried.

As you enter the camp, the strange feeling of this place continues to permeate everything. The light from the fire seems muted: properly illuminating things but in an unnatural, ominous way that makes the world somehow feel darker than it truly is.

The denizens of the camp also are clearly...off. They stand perfectly still, like statues of flesh. They don't blink, they don't breath. They just appear to be frozen in the act of standing, sitting, or working. And their faces all bear unsettling grins that are unnaturally large.

Vincent immediately starts looking for signs of magic.

Detect Magic. Duh.

Still have detect spirits up: At 1st level, a menhir savant can detect the presence of undead; fey; outsiders; and astral, ethereal, or incorporeal creatures. This ability functions like detect undead, and the druid detects all of these creatures rather than trying to detect one kind.

"Stupidity would be not be present, no matter if it is a dream or not... he deserves that much, always." she says with some distraction. Then ignores his force of gaze, but as long as he is moving toward the camp quickly, she cares not if he is in front.

Chrysa recognizes the frozen faces, sickenly grinning. Each and everyone of them etched into her memory, almost all of them dead by now. "He'll be this way." she starts to move toward the screaming.

”Chrysa, stop.” She stands still and plants her feet, ”stop! You… we can win this time. Or something close to it. Don’t play their games. You have allies. We’re stronger than almost anyone.” She says breathlessly, ”you have friends - come on. If this is a dream - as I expect I know what it is of - we can just wake up. If we want to stop this or fix it forever - there are other powers on the planes and even in the first world than whatever this is. I can call upon them. Let’s take the fight to your foes later - when we are on stronger footing - when we aren’t in a mad simulacrum of a torture chamber.”

She adds quietly, ”you don’t have to do this again. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Chrysa stops suddenly, turning on Soph. "NO!" she shouts like she is attacking "There is no fixing this, do you understand me, Lady Sophiel Medvyed? Without this moment in history, it would not have been the Staglord you and the others would have been sent to kill. It would have been Me." her confidence in that fact eclipses all "I swear to you, if that was the case, it would not have gone as easily as it did."

"Now, I am going to witness the best man I've ever known die horribly, and then be corrupted into something horrendous. Not because it is smart, not because it is good, but because I MUST. Whoever made this place knew this about me. And the only way to find out WHO it is, so I can hunt them down and make them scream for days, is to see it through." she pauses briefly to make sure her friend doesn't try anything to stop her, then turns back to the path.

Sophiel folds her arms and says nothing else.

She will follow some distance behind - a sour look on her face.

You advance on the largest tent, where the screams were coming from but have stopped.

There are two sentries posted at the tent entrance, faces and bodies just like the others. They totally disregard you as you pass. As you enter, your bodies are suddenly clothed in armor and weapons similar to the other people in camp, mixtures of leather and hide armors, basic weapons, and cloaks.

Inside, you see what could easily be described as a witches coven, a shaman’s chamber, or some other practitioners personal space. Nearby, on a table, is an older man with an arrow through his hip not a lethal wound but painful just the same. However, he is being held down by four of the unmoving, grinning thugs.

”What do you think you are doing? Let go of me you fools!” the restrained man shouts.

A half-elven woman dressed in rustic attire leans over a nearby workbench. Caustic fumes rise up from her work and a viper lies coiled nearby watching her work.

”Harpy! What is the meaning of all this? It’s just a flesh wound!” the man calls out again.

The woman turns in a jerky motion, her body moving in ways that are wholly unnatural. In her hand is a bone dagger resting in a bowl of powdered stone and oils. Her face contorts as she approaches, and her voice emanates from the body without her freakish grin ever changing. ”You are a problem to me. I need your little Nub to achieve her potential. You will not let her do that. You hold her back. I…I will set her free,” she says as she suddenly appears at his side.

The small red-haired woman stops, her entire body rigid. "That is the Harpy, the second most vilely manipulative and ruthless woman I've ever met." she pauses for a moment before admitting softly "... and I admired her for those things.... up until this moment." she watched the scene play out, her eyes widening at where the arrow was. "She said... they all said it was a fatal wound." caustic hate filled her voice.

will save, +4 if it comes from a fey: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (5) + 14 = 19
Local: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 15 = 19
religion: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (10) + 15 = 25

”Yes. Many evil people lie because they have no moral core. What do you expect?” She sounds annoyed, but she holds up a finger, ”there is an actual creature here. An undead.”

"that's what they are doing to him" she answers. "They... she... turns him into an undead THING, parading him around in front of me like a puppet, his eyes... screaming... all the time..."

Sophiel’s mouth is a thin line, ”what could be the purpose? To harden you? To manipulate you into taking power in the stolen lands? None of this makes sense.”

"I wanted freedom. Control. POWER over all the things that haunted me. I pushed us, while he cautioned. We needed to be out here, away from... people. We both agreed on that, but his thoughts were on survival and learning, while mine... mine were mirroring people like hers. Taking more and more until there was nothing left. Only my attachment to him kept me from grabbing it all." she spoke while watching the horror show in front of her. Eyes never leaving. "I always thought he was raised cause the Bag of Pus necromancer there never liked Waste. But no. I was because she sensed that attachment and wanted to sever it. To free his little Nub." raw grief billowed there "I killed him, Soph. I... killed him."

Kazmuk doesn't understand what is going on, so he remains silent and alert.

Vincent likewise stays out of the conversation and simply watches blankly. The 'horrors' of necromancy have very little to concern the young vampire.

The man continues to struggle, the woman reaching down and gripping the arrow and twisting it to cause the pain to make him stop. As he cries out, she pulls the projectile forcefully from his flank. She runs her tongue across the arrowhead, even going so far as to nibble a bit of flesh off that had clung to a barb on the tip.

The man looks at all this in horror and disgust before the woman says ”Now…to deal with you!” she snarls before thrusting the arrow into his exposed and vulnerable throat! His eyes widen and his voice gurgles on his blood as his throat and lungs fill with it. He struggles in desperation, but his strength quickly fades as his body is deprived of its life. After a few moments, he is still.

She then takes the dagger and cuts her own hand. ”Waste not, want not…” she muses as she lets the blood mix with the powder and substance in the bowl. She then holds the dead man’s mouth open and pours the mixture in. The body convulses a bit as dark magic begins to take hold. A few seconds later, the man’s body sits up and then stands, under the full control of its new master.

Since Vincent is there she narrates "I differ from the lady of graves on this point, as I don't care about intelligent undead. But what she turns HIM into is not intelligent. It's a cage of decaying flesh. No control, little awareness, just enslaved torment." she never takes her eyes off Kan's body as it convulses then stands.

As the undead warrior stands there, it’s eyes alight with green flame as it’s head slowly turns towards Chrysa. The flesh melts away, slowly at first, then rapidly until nothing but the skeleton remains beneath the armor with two orbs of green fire remaining for eyes.

It readies its hammer and shield and as it steps your way, the world around you all begins to shimmer and shift into a nebulous mixture, like paints on a palette.
__________
Kan Initiative: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Baltor Initiative: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Ipmeek Initiative: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
Chrysa Initiative: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Sophiel Initiative: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Vincent Initiative: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Everyone make a DC 18 Will Save or be sickened for the duration of the fight!

Initiative Order: Sophiel/Ipmeek/Vincent are up!
Sophiel
Ipmeek
Vincent
Kan
Baltor
Chrysa

"This part is new" Chrysa says, almost with relief.

will: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24 +4 is plant based, +2 is fey based

Will Save: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18

Sophiel says out loud, as if speaking to the air itself, "I don't know what this is intended to prove - but if you require us to defend ourselves, know that we've faced worse than whomever you are. We need not come to blows." She steps back and begins casting a spell.

No map, so just assume a 5' step and then starts casting summon nature's ally 5.

Will: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

The sight makes Vincent feel oddly uneasy so he gestures sharply and sends a bolt of force winging its way into the figure.

MM: 4d4 + 4 ⇒ (4, 4, 4, 2) + 4 = 18

Will: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14 +5 vs. spells, and spell-like abilities, +4 vs. fear

Sootscale also steps away and says, ”what you guys doing!? More zombies like Lich! Blast em!”

Force bomb ranged touch: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22
force bomb damage: 5d4 + 4 ⇒ (4, 4, 2, 2, 1) + 4 = 17
Force bomb iterative ranged touch: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14
force bomb damage: 5d4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 3, 3, 3, 2) + 4 = 17

Reflex save DC 18 for any direct hits or fall prone.

The skeletal figure swings his hammer at Chrysa angrily. "You let them do this to me! You let me suffer as a monster instead of ending me immediately!"
__________
Ipmeek Will: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Reflex: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Reflex: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
Attack vs. Chrysa: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Attack vs. Chrysa: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Initiative Order: Baltor/Chrysa, then everyone else is up!
Sophiel
Ipmeek
Vincent
Kan
Baltor
Chrysa

Even though she knows this is not Kan, the words make her visible recoil. "I... I wasn't... No! They were watching, always watching. Her greasy eyes waiting until I slipped." her braid raises up like a snake about to strike. "I killed you as quickly as I could, Kan, I promise." then she strikes.

magical hair, B: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (3) + 14 = 17
magical hair, B: 1d3 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Starting to doubt if this whole situation is indeed a dream, Baltor makes a quick prayer to the Father, asking for guidance against this monster.

Religion: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 35

Casting Blessing of Fervor and trying to know more about the undead.