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Colwyn, struck dumb, looks confusedly between Zelera and the snake creature, having now apparently swapped which is alive and which is dead. His ability to process the situation is further muddied when the no-longer-dead Zelera unleashes tides of healing upon the party, the tingling warmth numbing his brain all the more. The baron just plops himself down heavily on the fallen log and shakes his head, contemplating whether to break his sobriety.
With the battle reaching a critical point, Colwyn hastens his rate of fire, hoping that luck will balance out the sacrifice of accuracy.
Colwyn rolls behind a fallen log, which shields him from the magical cold.
Colwyn grimaces. Why wouldn't this blasted snake creature just die? He takes a step to the side and continues to unleash arrows, not even pausing long enough to spare any more prayers to Erastil.
I have one more use of the Stag Helm for the day, getting a shot on their flat-footed AC and dealing sneak attack damage. I can take one more turn to try and bring the thing down, or at least convince it to retreat/surrender, and if that doesn't work, then we can retreat. I'm really regretting not purchasing a wand as a backup weapon/tool like I was thinking about.
Colwyn continues to pour his rage into the creature, unleashing arrows upon it and continuing to call upon Erastil for aid.
Okay, we're all finally recovering over here, so I'm ready to get back into action. That being the case, I just wanted to clarify that my previous attack would've been against their flat-footed AC since I was using the Stag Helm. If that still misses, I'm guessing it's due to some sort of concealment effect?
Message for all my games: The flu has fallen upon my family, hitting me and my daughter especially hard. I'm going to take the weekend off to recover and look after my little girl, so I'll check back in with you on Monday to let you know how we're doing. Thank you for your understanding.
Seeing Zelera's body frost over then shatter also shatters the creature's control upon the baron. Raging instinct guides his arms to draw back his bowstring, while his suddenly clear mind offers a very bitter, invective-filled prayer to Erastil, asking to bring down this foulest, most hated prey.
"Damn, damn, damn," Colwyn grumbles like a mantra as the march presses forward into the swamp. He had spent many years in swamps and forests as a bandit, but his time as a baron had effaced the memory of the hardships from his mind...but that has all come back now, with a vengeance. The frustration distracts him so much that he occasionally stomps forward, instinctively taking the lead like his old band made him, until some side eyes and jibes from his actual friends remind him to fall back a few paces. Nevertheless, he keeps an almost paranoid watch as the group troops along and keeps careful track of their location and movements, lest they wander off the course they have set. After all, he doesn't want to spend a single night more than absolutely necessary among the damp and mosquito-ridden reaches.
"Oh, what the devils is all this?" he growls, taking stock of the Swamp Scar. "Is this natural? Did something make this?"
"That's as direct a route as we'll find," Colwyn grumbles. "Unless we can summon some boats to cross the lake, that is the route we should take.
"All right, so lets fill our canteens with fresh water, double wrap our food against swamp rot, and ready ourselves for a very foul hike through the swamp," Colwyn says, vindicated to hear his comrades supporting his pitch to target Drelev first. He adds to Vibenia, "A good idea, but I'm not sure if we have time to summon and dispatch scouts then wait for their return from the swamps. We need to head off this threat before the next, larger army comes marching our way. "Once my message reaches my bride, we'll see if she can point out any particular landmarks in the swamp for us." In terms of governance, Colwyn agrees to Rezbin's request for a road toward Wyvernstone Bridge. Of course, he cautions that he may have to wait a few weeks until after the present danger has been neutralized.
"Let's return to Tatzlford for a spell. We'll hire some of the locals to bury the dead and bind the survivors. Meanwhile, we have some missives to dispatch. "I'll contact Miss Melianse," Colwyn says, still reflexively referring to his bride rather formally. "Marten, can you send a message to General Reknar to get the troops moving? Niadroub, I need you to send instructions to the rest of the council for them to follow in our absence."
"Of our troops, we'll keep one unit at Thornholme and move the other to Tatzlford," Colwyn says after deeply considering the situation. "By coming to Tatzlford's defense, we've already committed ourselves to this conflict. Besides, I have no doubt that Drelev or these barbarians would have pressed forward and marched on our lands right after they rolled over this village."
"Do we have any halfway-reliable maps of the Slough to the west? I believe it's nothing but swamps and rivers, so it'd be foolish to march our own troops through. We'll travel on our own as a strike team to seize the opportunity while their forces are scattered. "We make for Drelev first. We take down that craven lord, rescue Kisandra's father, and then we can use the fort as a forward base as we next move against the barbarians."
I am very sorry for your loss, DBH. I hope that you and Zelera can both use the holidays to fondly reflect upon the loved ones that you have lost so that the pleasant memories can still make this a season of light for you.
Colwyn stifles a wolfish grin when he hears Waffles' voice in his mind - a rare case where he's happy for her unsolicited telepathic input. "You don't have to die, too," Colwyn replies, launching into the second phase of his strategem. "It's not your fault that your master, the lord of Drelev, was fed bad information. Someone deceived him, telling him that his forces would only find a 'meager militia' rather than our professional troops. They wanted him to feed his own forces, you and your dedicated men, into a meat grinder! "You've lost your vanguard and these trolls - although I think you and I can both agree that those ugly brutes are no terrible loss - but you now have a chance to spare the rest of your force," Colwyn says, gesturing towards the soldiers looking to him for leadership to drive his point home. "Fall back. Return and tell your master that you discovered how he was deceived before the bulk of his forces were committed and lost. For saving the lion's share of his might and uncovering the treachery at his ear, I am sure you will be rewarded, maybe even honored as one of the few lieutenants he can rely upon."
You have my sympathies, DBH -- as do you, Zelera. Take time for yourselves. We'll be here for you.
The baron places himself out in the open for a change, standing on the opposite side of the stream from the enemies' approach. He wants to give himself some measure of barrier should his plan fail.
Once the next wave of hostile soldiers arrives, Colwyn lays it on thick and attempts to convince the enemies that he has an entire platoon of his own troops strategically positioned among the trees, just waiting to festoon them with deadly arrows.
"Zel, get Marten patched up. I'm gonna need him watching my back for what I've got in mind. Let's see if the same trick we pulled on those spriggans will work on these sots, too. Everyone else, get into the surrounding trees and be ready to unleash your usual tricks, but forget stealth. I want you to be as loud and disruptive as possible. We gotta trick these oafs into thinking there's a whole army of us out here." Colwyn steels his nerve, readying his silver tongue to convince the approaching soldiers that the baron could only have decimated their trolls and vanguard so quickly if he had a sizeable force of troops already positioned between them and Tatzlford.
I suppose it also doesn't help when the Ruler's player gets waylaid by a lot of real life stuff. I'll get a post up to move things along and get a plan in motion.
I grabbed a couple potions and deducted them from the loot sheet.
Colwyn barely has time to process the mercenary clambering for him before Vibenia quickly puts him down. Instead, he focuses on trying to finish off the men he can still see.
Colwyn delivers some arrows to the mercenaries at the rear of the crooked formation to make them regret waking up.
Colwyn hesitates for a split second as he tries to figure out which of the luckless, outmatched mercenaries to target next. "Actually feel sorry for the sots," he murmurs as he lets the arrows fly.
"Guess I should just feel sorry for myself and my sorry aim."
With his presence known to the enemy, Colwyn eschews precision and opts for volume of fire - raining arrows upon the mercenaries.
Colwyn aims one of his poisoned arrows at the mercenary leader.
Colwyn takes some time to quickly prepare a couple arrows with scorpion venom to target especially important enemies from the coming cadre. He then slips back into hiding for his second ambush.
Colwyn releases a volley of arrows from atop the waterfall, aiming at the rear ranks of the trolls and working his way forward.
Good luck! Hopefully it's not as much of a pain in the ass as we are!
Colwyn welcomes the trolls into his domain by delivering an arrow upon the troll at the rear of the formation, making his first combat use of Skybolt.
Since his brain trust has handled the strategizing, the baron quickly moves to do what he does best. With Vibenia's magic masking his scent from the advancing trolls, Colwyn scales the rock face beside the waterfall and stealthily finds a vantage point to snipe at the coming invaders.
Colwyn lets his companions discuss the initial strategies because he is too busy suppressing a chuckle. He tries to better compose himself when he feels judging eyes upon him. "No, no, I recognize that this is serious, especially if our foe has hostages back at their stronghold. But this is just...it's just...," he struggles to both find the words and fight back his smile. "I was expecting an entire horde. But this invading army is all of 35 men and 6 trolls?" he asks, incredulous. He looks to his fellows, trying to bolster their confidence with a simple reminder. "We can call upon no less than 200 militia from Thornholme, and we have another 100 professional soldiers stationed at Levetown."
"If we can delay this rabble just for a couple days, we can summon our troops and the fight will be over very quickly. "Zelera. Waffles," Colwyn says, turning solemnly to the pair who have caused him much consternation in the past. "It is now your sacred duty to cause as much frustration, as much anger, as much embarrassment, as much disgust, and as much mayhem for these approaching attackers as possible."
Colwyn furrows his brow as he strolls through the village that may soon be his vassal. Its relative prosperity is quite queer to him. Having a library and something resembling a formal school is already unusual for a frontier town - certainly something Colwyn never got to benefit from as a lad. However, the fact that a gemcutter settled down here is especially unexpected. Of course, for now, he just makes a mental note to check back in on the gnomish gemcutter later. There are larger, looming issues to address first. Upon sitting down with the mayor and Miss Numesti, Colwyn begins with the obvious questions. "You've brought warning about an advancing army. Where are they marching from? How many do they number?"
"Please show us the way to your lodge so we can hear this warning," Colwyn says to Mayor Rezbin. "It would be a delight if we could go one season without some crisis raising its ugly head, yet here we are. If there should truly be some army with designs on these lands, would you be willing to join our nation for a common defense?"
Colwyn inhales and exhales deeply as he sits at his desk in the baronial mansion. His eyes carry heavy bags, and he looks quite sleep deprived. Clearly he is internally debating whether or not a trek westward would be less exhausting than staying home. "Have the horses saddled and our bags packed," he finally says, his voice dry and cracking. "We ride westward. We'll meet this woman and see what merit her warning carries."
"Hmm, our defense is a little uneven," Colwyn concedes. "We've already built a garrison and watchtower here in Thornholme, but we've only got the 200 irregulars available here. Meanwhile, we have 100 regulars stationed at Levetown, but only a watchtower there. Then there's Varnhold. They have a garrison, but scarcely even a militia to fill it." The baron contemplates dispatching the irregulars to guard Varnhold, then raising a new company of regulars to station in Thornholme. However, for the time being, he turns his attention to the notices posted at the Stag and Toad. "Going back to the matter of dangerous monsters close to home, which of those posted notices caught your attention? Personally, I think we should look into the business of this 'Speartooth' or sightings of 'bog mummies.' Bog mummies? There was a time I might've considered it rubbish, but after putting down Vordakai, I don't know."
GM_DBH, Since Melianse made it clear she doesn't want to get involved with titles or official duties, should I remove her as Consort from the rulership tracker?
One morning crisp, Colwyn wakes and, right after dressing, strolls into the office of the baronial mansion. All the while he is grateful that such a headquarters for him and his companions was completed before the worst of winter's wrath fell upon them. The baron sits down at his desk and begins drafting a letter to Loy Rezbin. "Now that the roads and forests are growing safer, with spring's thaw upon our proverbial doorstep," Colwyn explains to whatever councilors or staff are nearby, "I wants to invite the mayor of Tatzlford to visit us here in Thornholme. Hopefully we can arrange, at the very least, a partnership or trade deals between our towns. "I'm not terribly worried that Restov has cut us off," he says, actually sounding confident in the words. "We've just about become self-sufficient. All the same, as I've learned from our dealings with Varnhold and the centaurs, it's good to always be looking for new friends."
Thank you. I've included farmlands in the plains hexes around Varnhold on the eastern side of the mountains, except for the two hexes with monster lairs. Since we never had those encounters and eliminated those threats, it seems unlikely that any farms there would be secure and functional. I've updated our kingdom map to include two slides: one for the Greenbelt region, one for the Nomen Heights. Turn 15, Edict Phase cont. Terrain Improvements: Road and farms in the two westernmost claimed hexes in the Nomen Heights, and a Road in the Varnhold Pass hex (total cost 10 BP; current treasury 22 BP). This will connect Varnhold with our existing road network. Improve Settlements: In Thornholme, build a Shop (8 BP) and Trade Shop (10 BP), and upgrade Tenement to House (2 BP). Leaves treasury at 2 BP. Income Phase No deposits, withdrawals, or sales for now.
Event Phase
Okay. I think I have everything updated, but I wanted to get some GM insight/approval on one matter. Do the hexes gained as part of the Varnhold territory include any terrain improvements? I think there are two hexes with roads, connecting Varnhold to the South Rostland Road. Has Varnhold already constructed any farms in its hexes? For now, I only have a farm listed for the hex with the town itself. This could be important because even more than increasing our Control DC, it has caused our Consumption to jump from -1 to 18 per turn. If Varnhold didn't build enough farms yet, or if GM_DBH rules that they have been ruined in the interim, then we need to spend a lot of BP this turn building up farms.
So something like this? That meme is exactly my inspiration. Anyhow... Kingdom Turn 15 Upkeep Phase
Pay Consumption: -1 BP => 1 BP stored in Levetown Granary Edict Phase Claim Hexes: Claiming the hex (unnumbered) east of Hex 25 that will connect us with the Varnhold territory (1 BP) This action adds a total of 20 hexes to our territory and necessitates a Stability Check to avoid increasing Unrest by 1d6.
..... I'm going to continue the Kingdom Turn in another post. I need some time to revise the kingdom map and create the settlement map for Varnhold.
Any objection if I roll up the next Kingdom Turn? I think we're ready now to link up with Varnhold.
"Old Deadeye, eh?" Colwyn muses, intrigued. He will definitely keep this possibility bookmarked in his mind for the future. For the time being, he is tempted to challenge the newcomer to a marksmanship contest, but he suddenly remembers that he meant to go courting, calling on Miss Melianse. When Colwyn does find the nixie woman, he constructs his proposal around a little fey-related wordplay: essentially offering his first-born child (at least) to her in exchange for helping him govern the land.
"Crossbow, eh? I'm more of a longbow man myself. Used to use shorter bows, but..." Colwyn muses, but he trails off as he saunters over to the bulletin board. His forehead scrunches as he squints to examine the notice posted by the mayor of Tatzlford.
Colwyn crooks his first two fingers and gestures for Vibenia to join him by the board. "Tell me...what do you make of this?" he asks Vibenia. He has no doubt about her skill in the wilds, but he also wants to see how she would approach matters of politics, economics, and infrastructure. "My fellow councilors and I recently struck dear friendships with both the village of Varnhold and the Nomen Centaurs to the east," he explains to Vibenia. "Now, I'm inclined to prioritize linking our lands with theirs first, but I'm not one to turn up my prominent nose at a good opportunity when it presents itself."
"I've been hearing and seeing quite a bit of what your influence has been out here, definitely for the better. I'd like to help if I can. There are still a host of dangers out in the wilderness, and that kind of thing is what we're good at. Dealing with the things in the wild that pose a danger to the softer folk." she says gesturing to her companion who sits watching the Baron intently. "Well, there's certainly always work to be done," Colwyn rues, glancing over to the new notices on the bulletin board. "Besides having the loyalty of a handsome hound, what kind of talents do you possess?"
"Know where I could find someone in charge?" "As a matter of fact, yes. Luck smiles on you, for you happen to be speaking to the baron-consul of Thornholme," Colwyn announces, proudly hooking his thumbs around his suspenders. Perhaps quite surprisingly, Vibenia gets the sense that this rake is not just boasting, and that he is somehow actually the ruler of this land. "So, how can I be of service?"
Colwyn marches down from the "baron's suite" on the top floor of the Stag and Toad. He has bathed and groomed himself as best as he can, looking like the prince of toads. Just before he can depart and seek out Miss Melianse, he finds the doorway blocked as a newcomer and her wolfdog enter the inn. Colwyn quickly scours his brain, thinking about whether there might be any bounty hunters still after him from the bad old days. After he has reasonably reassured himself, he decides to head off any potential problems by putting on a welcoming face. After all, he's talked his way out of problems before. "Good day, dear woman," Colwyn says to Vibenia. "You have the air of a visitor. May I be of assistance?"
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