Damn never takes his eyes off Svetlana and Paetyr as they move away. Zasha yawns, uninterested. But in answer to Brigid, Damen shakes his head. "The Orlovskys are, ah, not the most open-minded people the gods gave to Golarion. So it's possible. He might try to trick her or force her back. I've never met this Paetyr, but I've known a few men of the Orlovsky. Sometimes they need a good beating to remind them how to keep to their business." He finds the warrior's eyes with his own. His are uncharacteristically cold. Don't be afraid to... educate him... if you think he needs it."
The ranger's fingers hovered near to his morningstar, the other hand gesturing to Zasha who sat warily nearby. He glanced at Svetlana, allowing her to control the conversation, then to Brigid. Whatever their mutual awkwardness and distance, he was certain that they'd act as one in this fight.
Before he could answer Brigid, Damen felt Oleg's powerful hand on his shoulder. But what was there to say, really? "Oleg... just... ah, Brigid and Svetlana seem to have plans. I'll think a bit. A bit. Maybe..." he cleared his throat, clotted with emotion. "Maybe we can talk about this later," the ranger finished with a grateful smile.
Next he turned to the warrior woman, letting a few moments of silence pass. "Some do like you do." His gaze purposefully turned to Svetlana's retreating form. "But... mourning is usually a bigger part of our customs. And celebrating is less."
He rested his weight against a nearby fence, looking up at the bright sky and intentionally dodging her gaze. "Did you know that in Brevoy I was a noble? Not a very good one. Or... a very noble one. Just a name. Just a name."
"And my house, Medvyed, we had a saying. 'Endurance overcomes all'. That usually meant enduring silently. No complaints. No wailing. No gnashing of teeth. Just a grunt and carrying on. I never understood why they did it. I never lost someone who mattered to me. Not really. But now I wonder how they did it."
Damen stood upright again, facing Brigid, and in a sudden rush of emotion embraced her tightly.
Damen was torn at Brigid's suggestion of the strange festival, when he heard of it. For the Medvyed, at least, funerals were somber things. No smiling. No rejoicing. No feasting. They would endure the weight. They would overcome. They would prosper. But they would not celebrate hardship and loss. As a child of irrepressible wanderlust and energy, it had been a burden on him to even pretend to feel that way. As an adult, as someone whose friends were those lying dead, he better grasped why such an affair would rightly be a black one.
He looked at his wolf companion, who returned the look. She knew of loss, too, in whatever way wolves dealt with it. Did she mourn? Did she miss her pack, her cubs? He shook his head, and his gaze fell on Svetlana. She mourned, in her tempestuous Calistrian way. The same as she did everything. The ranger could not help but wonder if all Orlovskys shared that trait.
At last his eyes turned to Brigid. What was her family name? He couldn't remember. She was just "Brigid", a force of nature. A glacier, maybe. He couldn't tell if she did anything but mourn, somewhere deep in her heart. So it was odd to hear her, of all people, propose revelry.
His instinct was to turn away and nurse the hurt and be somber and endure. Alone, if necessary. But what if she died tomorrow? What if Svetlana did? It seemed important to be with them. And more important to be with the people of the town, which had grown such that he no longer knew everyone by sight.
When next he saw the archeress, he nodded. "A nice idea, your festival," he said curtly.
His normally-expressive face a mask, Damen nods at Svetlana's request. He helps dig, Zasha alertly stalking the perimeter. He had little to say, remaining silent during the burial and the impromptu rites and Brigid's dirge.
He only breaks his silence at Svetlana's final question, looking darkly at the fresh graves. "No," he said simply. "Nothing."
I had forgotten what a murder machine Brigid was. Wow.
About the wolves, I don't recall exactly but I think there's just the one wolf between us now, Svetlana? Zasha and I split up, since Zasha had the other wolf, and I moved to help protect you by engaging the one fighting you. I'll assume this is the case for now, but if I'm wrong we can just tweak my post.
The ranger set aside for the moment the sight of his friends falling, focused entirely on making certain that another did not. "Die, damn you, die!" he yelled as he lashed out at the wolf.
Sorry for being MIA for the process this far. I just finished moving for the second time in three months, but now I'm settled. I'll take a look and send a PM this evening.
Obviously the bottom line here is that if you're burned out or not really interested in continuing, then that's it. The game has to work for the DM as much as the players! It wouldn't be a good experience for anyone if you felt forced to do it.
With that said, I think it would be a shame to just end it. We've had more than two years in this game, and there's still players interested in it. Plus, I imagine there's more than enough demand for Kingmaker campaigns to recruit another character or two to fill the gaps.
My vote is definitely to continue, even with the acknowledgement that it's going to be a slower campaign or that we might be skipping some of the mechanical stuff in favor of making a more fun/interesting/streamlined game. If your time or your interest just doesn't allow for it, Daniel, that's fine too. Worst case, if you want to bow out, we could also look for another DM to pick up the campaign. It wouldn't be quite the same without your style, but it could allow everybody to more or less get what they want.
Oops, I suppose we're waiting on me now. At least my move is finally done!
Damen took a moment to glance over the battlefield. Zasha had one of the wolves well in... paw, and Rangnar seemed to have another under control, but there were others still in the fight. Bypassing the wolf Zasha was fighting, the ranger moved to strike at the wolf threatening Svetlana.
In the fight with the trolls, I rolled Zasha's trip attempt (vs. the trolls' CMD) as a separate part of her attack, contingent on her hitting. In other words, if she hit, then she got a separate roll to beat their CMD. If you want to use the to-hit as a CMB roll that would work too, Daniel.
Are these wolves magical beasts, or normal wolves? I ask for favored enemy purposes.
With the wolves having closed the distance, Damen leapt back, dropping his bow, and called out "Zasha! Defend Kent!" A moment later he lunged forward, and in a single movement drew his morningstar and lashed out at the nearest wolf.
Looks like I came in just a hair too late! Oh well, this is exciting!
Again, incredibly sorry for slowing things down on this end, guys. Things are a bit more sane now so I will hopefully be able to post again. But it will still be a little infrequent for the next 2-3 weeks.
Sorry again for the slow posting, guys - I'm in the middle of moving halfway across the country and transitioning my job, which is eating up a lot of my time and energy. I think by early June things will have calmed down. Until then, I'll be posting when I can!
Damen held up a hand to Brigid as Zasha sniffed at the ground around. He looked at the warrior meaningfully. "Don't, ah, let me stop you, necessarily, but I have a little experience with ambushes." He rubbed the back of his neck and scanned the hills, seeming a little nervous. "From both sides, actually."
His next words addressed the group. "If we want to beat them... ah, well. Don't underestimate our enemies here. If they have sharp noses they might already know we're here, but we need to stay downwind. If they're alert, anyone on top of the canyon will be obvious too, so you, uh, that is, w-we, should stay a little bit below the crest. Or our quarry might be waiting for us to do exactly this, knowing we'd spot the likely ambush. Wish we could send some kind of decoy into the canyon to draw their attention. If they're there."
Zasha came and perched at the ranger's feet. "Anyway," he added, scratching the wolf's head, "I'll go up too. I've spent a lot of time in the mountains."
Not hurt from the battle, but I took a beating in the stampede and had a few wounds still from fighting the trolls.
Damen used his foot to cautiously brush aside a twig from what looked like a track as the darkness covered them. Nearby, Zasha, almost invisible in the growing night, sniffed unhappily at the ground.
The ranger's voice betrayed his weariness and his wounds. "A stampede with two frothing beasts in the middle of it. Weird enough thing to see. Doubt the old man was a coincidence. Hope he wasn't anyway." He rubbed his hand across his eyes to clear the rain from them and glanced at his companions. "At least we're all alive."
"Don't eat the elk. Burn the bodies, I figure. Whatever riled them up might be catching." His fingers rasped over his rough beard as he sized up Brigid. "And maybe some magic for curing sicknesses if one of you knows it. Just in case."
He scanned the ground, all but lost to his eyes. "Never seen somebody blend in to the scenery like that before. Like he just became part of the foliage. Wouldn't mind a few lessons from the old man, if we find him... if he's in a talking mood."
Zasha yawned and shook herself from the rain as the ranger added, "Speaking of finding, if I can't find my horse he might owe me."
Sorry guys! Had some stuff come up, but I'm back and I'll be able to actually do my part in this fight. Or in the post-fight discourse, possibly, considering the kind of damage being thrown around.
"God's blood!" Damen yelled as the beasts attacked. He'd seen the froth, but so distracted by his wounds that he hadn't paid it attention. A moment later he was ready, bow up and arrows out, but too slow to help Kent, to help Brigid.
With a growl, he muttered "This is turning into a bad day," as he stepped around to take advantage of Rangnar's advice.
Damen's delay proved his undoing, as he was caught by the herd. His world collapsed to that moment, a frantic attempt to turn his horse to flow with the stampede, just to hold onto the reins - but too slow. Tossed from his horse, he curled himself tightly and did his best to protect his body.
Frantically, Damen gestured toward the meager shelter, spurring his horse around to make sure his companions saw it. "There! There! Room for all!" he called, adding "Rangnar, get to shelter, damn you!"
The ranger couldn't help but smile at Brigid's uncommonly diplomatic statement. "That's true. It could have been something trackless. Or my eyes seeing something that wasn't there." His look became a bit more pointed. "Isn't it, ah, funny how easy it is for us to see things that aren't real?" He rested a hand on Zasha's head, lightly ruffling her fur.
As they rode he kept his eyes and ears open, the occasional small twinge from his shoulder a reminder not to let his guard down again. Zasha kept closer to the party now than the day before, but now and then would disappear for a few minutes to chase small prey or sniff around a rock or small copse of trees.
When the tracks veered away from the forest, he slipped from the saddle to give them a closer look. "I'd almost say we're being toyed with. Or..." he looked up at the sky, lips pursed in thought. After a moment he shrugged, glancing toward Zasha, then the party. "Well, I just hope we aren't tracking our way into an ambush."
The day wore on, little by little, until the first inkling of dusk brought the pleasant scent of coming rain. Damen stopped again, hand to his chin, and listened. Kent reacted before he could.
Knowledge (Nature):1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Now the ranger's voice betrayed a bit of panic. "I don't think that'll do much against a stampede, Kent! We need to-to move, or hide!" He quickly looked around for an outcropping or something that might offer shelter.
Damen swung at the troll as the healing energies of Calistria suffused the ranger's body, bringing with it the familiar chaotic sense of roiling emotions. A memory tugged at him as the morningstar described its arc into his foe.
A Memory:
Damen cowers in some foliage amidst an outcropping of rocks. Nearby a powerful, pungent stench marks the air. He has been afraid before, but rarely as thorough as he is now. Ancient, primal instincts tell him that he is going to die. They command him to flee. They are barely contained by wiser thoughts of hiding.
His horse has fled, somewhere now far away and getting farther. It has proven itself more alert than he, dozing in the fine spring sun. He will find the horse three days later, having lamed itself on the rough terrain. He will give mercy and death. The irony is not lost on him during the long walk home.
From where he hides, it is only an armspan or two to where a troll devours a great elk. Had it fled a few steps more, the ranger would have shared its fate.
Murmuring under his breath, he intones a prayer. "Erastil save me. Save me and I will... build a temple." He cannot convince himself the words are true. The god no doubt is equally skeptical. "I will... serve you. Just... just save me." His focus on prayer is punished. A rock shifts. The foliage rustles. The troll raises its head, sniffing the air. It steps away from its meal. It steps toward Damen. His breath catches.
And then a massive stag, suicidal or insane or furious at its fallen mate, rams the troll with its horns. Damen does not hesitate. He flees.
Erastil, he knows, has accepted the bargain.
He didn't descend into the memory, not in battle, but the images and feelings would remain with him, even taunting him.
Later, the troll slain and burned by Kent's magic, Damen nodded his thanks to Svetlana. He was about to speak when his eyes spotted a stranger. At Svetlana's words, he nodded again. "As did I," he said quietly. Rubbing his shoulder, now nearly mended, he joined Brigid in looking for signs of the figure.
Luckily in this case it wouldn't have mattered, but I agree with you. With that in mind I'll make the point here for Daniel's benefit.
If Zasha's first trip attempt succeeded (I believe it did), her second attack should be against -4 AC. I don't know if that will save such a miserable hit roll, though.
I'm also not applying the inspiring courage ability to her, since it sounds like it's the product of spoken advice which, naturally, she can't understand.
At Zasha's growl, Damen turned to investigate - only to have the stink of trolls hit him. He'd smelled it once before, dangerously close, and seen what they could do - but he put the thought out of his mind. A moment too slow, though, or perhaps everything else moved too fast: one of the giant creatures was already upon him, putrid stench flowing over him as it bit his shoulder. The crushing force of its jaws was only barely stopped by his mithril shirt. He cried out in anger and pain.
I agree with continuing. I'm not the most frequent poster, I know, but I really enjoy this campaign and I'd like to see it through if possible. Perhaps some of the other GMs could help out with materials?
If that's not possible for some reason, I'd be open to doing something else, ideally even with this same party. But my first choice would be to continue with Kingmaker.
Whatever ends up happening, I hope you're able to get your computer sorted out soon, Daniel!
Damen replied to Brigid's low statement only with a moment of quiet thought, then a slow nod of his head. He turned his attention to Zasha, peering out in the deepening night nearby.
"I have an idea," he muttered, eyeing their campsite and pacing off a number of steps before invoking a prayer to Erastil. A momentary sense of energy filled the air, and then was gone.
Next he beckoned Zasha to him, whispering to her. When he finished, he ruffled her fur and readied himself for bed as the wolf trotted a little distance into the darkness.
Alarm, centered on the campsite, creating a 20-foot radius area that will send a mental ping to me should anyone enter it. The ping is capable of waking me from sleep. The effect will last 4 hours.
I'm fine with the watch order as described. Zasha will 'watch' for the first two hours before resting as well.
Damen was eager to return to the road. He'd heard it said that the point of going on holiday was to return home at the end and find the comfortable old things all the more comfortable for having been absent awhile. As a man who had come to feel as much at home in their little town as out of it, he had the best of both worlds.
"Strange to think," he observed as the party rode beyond even the trappings of the town, "how this place has changed even in these few months." He looked to the sky, then at the endless untamed expanses that lay beyond their little group. "I do hope it's for the better." He chewed on that thought a bit.
Despite his uncertainty, his mood brightened as the days wore on the dust of the road settled on him. He cheerfully helped Brigid in her searching for tracks, bantered with Svetlana amidst compliments on her sense of fashion, and even poked his nose into Kent and Rangnar's discussion of the magic pearl despite his ignorance of all things magical.
It was plain, too, that Zasha delighted in being on the road. She might disappear for an hour or two, then emerge from a bit of underbrush with a rabbit in her jaws. At stops along the way, she and Damen take turns "hunting" each other - along with anyone who wishes to join.
At the fort, the ranger's mood tempered a bit at Brigid's explorations. The battle was fresh in his mind too, though perhaps for different reasons, and as she considered the marks of the Stag Lord's death he nearly approaches to offer... something. A comment. Comfort. But uncharacteristically hesitant, he stops himself and leaves her her peace.
"I don't know if it's worth the effort of repairing," he said that night, gesturing to the fort around them. "We could better tear it down and use the stones and such in town. Nobody'd use it against us, that way." The ranger shrugged. "Fighting an enemy in the open field? My pleasure. But holding a fort's a tough business if you don't have a real army, is my guess, and we've mostly got farmers and tradesmen."
A broad grin crossed his face. "Present company excluded, of course."
Damen knelt by the prints, still fresh from the previous day's attack. They told a story of their own: horse's prints, the marks of a woman's feet, and the padded marks of the attacker. He recognized Brigid's stance in her footprints, her weight shifting as she readied her bow. Would he have seen them as hers if he hadn't already known? He shook his head to return to the present and looked up at his companions.
"Whatever made these was, ah, certainly large. They look like wolf's prints..." his voice trailed off and he touched one mark gingerly with a finger.
"But see here, the little channel cut by a trailing claw on the back of the paw. That's not quite a wolf's print. It could be a warg, certainly."
He rubbed his chin and went hmm, eyes roaming over the prints. The ranger's shoulders hunched. He shifted his stance a little as his legs twinged.
Suddenly his voice grew excited. "Ah, but look! The, the toes on at least one paw splay. Maybe an old injury or something, ah, something like that. The tracks around Petra's body didn't have that."
Damen straightened up, studying Brigid intensely. Then, glancing back at the tracks, "I doubt it's a coincidence, you getting attacked so soon after the girl. But I don't think your attacker and hers were the same animal, either. Maybe the same kind. Just... not the same one."
While Zasha sat watching silently, Damen scratched his chin as he listened to the story the hunters told. Talking wolves... could werewolves talk? The idea seemed somehow familiar, something he'd read or heard of before, though he couldn't immediately place it. He'd have to think it over.
But that much didn't really matter, he realized: if there was a pack of large wolves in the area, it called for investigation. That was true even if they weren't the ones who killed Petra.
Keen brown eyes flicked between Rangnar and Brigid, and Damen nodded. "I agree that we need to worry about matters closer to home first. I'm not, ah, particularly comfortable having wolves bold enough to attack someone so close to a town." He looked down at his wolf companion, who returned the gaze. "Zasha wasn't happy about trying to track last night. Whatever we're dealing with, I doubt it's anything... ordinary."
He ruffled Zasha's fur affectionately and rose to his feet, brushing off his hands. He turned to the priest of Erastil. "Brother Jhod, if you see Akiros would you, ah, please tell him I'd like to speak with him? We need to decide how to keep his guardsmen safe while they keep everyone else safe."
He leaned in toward Svetlana, offering a quiet "Good luck with these two," then a handshake to the hunters, before leaving with Brigid and the others.
Let's try tracking again, with the benefit of sunlight.
"Thank you for protecting her, even if it's only for a short time." The ranger ruffled the wolf's fur affectionately. "I hope it's enough."
As they approached Jhod's home, Zasha's ears pricked up, and after a few moments Damen could hear someone calling out for him and shouting warnings. He warily scanned until Brigid came into view, explaining her situation. He glanced from Brigid to Zasha and back.
"Sh-she tracks as well as any wolf. Between us... perhaps we can find our murderer."
I don't know if Zasha can assist in tracking, or if it would be the other way around, or if it's possible at all, but wolves have the ability to track by scent which would eliminate the problem of tracking in the dark.
"She was getting him a bottle..." Damen mused quietly as the sot gathered himself. "So why was she in the clearing?" For a moment he looked perplexed, but quickly his face cleared, and with a quiet breath he returned to watching Svetlana and Grigori.
Damen again nodded at Svetlana's thoughts as to the killing, Zasha grateful for the comforting play. "I agree it is a strange attack for an animal, but Petra may have intruded on territory or otherwise done something to provoke the offending creature - there is simply not enough yet to know. Whatever the truth, the mere involvement of wolves is a danger to Zasha," he continued, the animal glancing up at her name. "But she has been with me these past several days. Even if I thought she were a danger, there was simply no time for her to do it."
He kept his peace at Grigori's belligerence, letting Svetlana's social graces lead the way here. Still, he braced himself to restrain the man if necessary.
