Hey everyone, I'd like to apologize for my poor updates the past few weeks. Things in and out of work have been pretty crazy for numerous reasons. It's been weighing on me, and at this time I've realized that I'm at the point where I can't reliably post on any sort of a schedule. It isn't fair to anyone and I've decided that as I haven't been able to commit I should probably step down from GMing this game.
It wasn't an easy decision; I've been waffling back and forth over whether I should really call it quits after a few bad weeks, but I can't look back to when I was actually able to run the game in a way I was proud of.
I would love to give some closure, but We aren't at a really "good" stopping point. Alternatively, between the two games I had going there are enough active players that if someone wanted to organize and take the reins I'm sure there would be a good game. So, I leave it to you guys on how you want to proceed.
As much as I'm going to miss the story, playing with you all has been a privledge and I'm going to miss that the most. I'd be happy to exchange emails with anyone that wants to through Private Messages. Finally, I *am* going to be working at Gen*Con and Dragon*Con, so if anyone is and would like to meet up, let me know.
Hey guys, sorry for the radio silence this week; I had the greatest of intentions that were met with a range of stuff, the highlight of which was a tire blow-out on the interstate. I'm fine, car fixed, work progressing, though I need to get some sleep to deal with an emergency IT issue at 6AM tomorrow. Will post some more tomorrow.
As Vorsirion gets close enough to the skeleton, he notices the faintest outlines of a runic outline on the floor. Somehow his elvish senses determine that it is a trap which would cause Rays of Exhaustion to shoot from the faces in the room if sprung. With this knowledge, you are able to avoid the trap and move forward.
The skeleton itself appears devoid of anything interesting. Time has appeared to have stripped it of all clothing, and there are no items or remains that appear of interest.
Keeping a wide berth from the trap, the party hears a clatter of bone and metal from either side of the room. Clearing through the webbing erupt a half dozen armed skeletons from each entry! Malevolent evil red eyes glare out of otherwise lifeless skulls.
Oh, whatever will a party with a cleric do about skeletons...
With a measure of resolve, you venture into the passage. Immediately inside is a entryway that is only hope to bats. These prove to be more annoyance than treat, and after the initial outpouring of leaves only a guano covered room.
The passage forward is covered in web, moving forward you find another large room.
Four tunnels exit this circular chamber in the cardinal directions. Four large monstrous faces, carved from stone, leer and grimace from each of the walls between the tunnel entrances.
A skeleton sprawls facedown in the middle of the room.
Turning around Tuskwater lake, you do see signs of a snapping turtle that must be the size of a small pony, but as it is in the lake and you are on land, there is a stalemate.
Assuming you don't want to fight the turtle in the water...
As you continue your explorations, the Lake Tuskwater stretches ahead with no end in sight. There is at least another several days travel to get to a place where it would be transversable without a boat. Even at point that it starts to narrow, it is still over a mile wide before expanding out once more.
Venturing east along Gurdin river, you find a shallows along the river, allowing for an easy ford later, but otherwise uneventful.
From there, attempting to get a better idea of what lies towards Varnhold, you explore in the direction of the mountains. While climbing through the hills of the Kamelands, Vorsirion makes a discovery: a crack in the rocky terrain that appears to lead towards a man-made passage. However, above the passageway is a carved sign: "Beware the Sleepless Guardian."
Thurl remembers a little about Jester Varn: He has made a name of of himself as a notable tracker and archer in the Stolen Lands. One factor that has lead to his notoriety is his distinctive appearance: He has a facial scar leading from his right lip up to his cheek, leaving him with a permanently scarred grin. The rumor is that he gained this scar while captive of a group of bandits while he was young.
Where to? Or are you waiting for the meeting before exploring?
Svetlana looks at the unrolled collection of maps that the party has been working on piecing together. East of where you narrowly avoided an encounter with a mammoth is a new rough outline of a map, depicting the mountain range known as the "Tors of Levinies", an extensive and nearly impassible set of mountains that spread South East of Brevoy. "From the indication I've been given, the city of Varnhold is founded roughly 100 miles from here. I imagine the mountains will ensure that there is little direct conflict for territory for some time." She places a polished stone with a 'V' where she has indicated. "I imagine visiting there will be beneficial in the future, but for now, preprarations have begun for a delegation to meet here, if that is alright."
Do you have any plans for what direction you would care to explore next? Or did you wish to meet with the Varnhold representatives first? The location of Varnhold is updated on the map.
Surrounded and badly injured, the worgs slink back and runs off into the woods. As you catch your breath, in the distance you hear a series of howls, presumably from the injured beasts. Following the howls, however, is one loud yelp, then another a distance off. A moment of silence follows, then a louder, bestial howl rings out through the woods, almost a roar.
Staring down at the fallen and "fallen" beasts, you realize what wasn't clear in the middle of combat: these beasts are actually Worgs. Turante and Franka are fairly certain that the one large wolf that was seen that departed at the start of the battle was *not* a Worg, despite having apparently commanded the Worgs. That remains a mystery for now, however.
After the threat of the worgs has been removed, the men that had sought refuge on the stone slowly descend. Many of them are visibly injured, yet all are incredibly thankful for your timely arrival. "Erastil bless you", one says, "We thought we were goners, with them beasts snapping at us below. It was only a mater of time before we had to come down for water, or the elements got to us. Even still, that big one looked like it was trying to figur out a way to get to us all, rocks or no. We owe you our lives!"
Anything else that you plan to do here, before moving on? We can spend more time here if you'd like. If not, on to...
With the threat of worgs subsided (for now at least) the party is able to escort the weary travelers to Hopefeld. The corpses of murdered settlers and worgs alike are a testament that even though you may be carving out a foothold of a settlement, the Stolen Lands hold greater dangers still.
After your arrival, Svetlana, Akiros, and Kesten Garess ask for a "Leadership Council" (Do you have a word that you would prefer for those?)) with the party and other Leaders, with Akiros and Kesten's request being a shared one. Once gathered, the later begin first, with Akiros leading the discussion.
"My lords, sirs, ladies, I am happy to inform you that settlement of Hopefeld is coming along quite well. We've had our share of troubles, to be sure, but with your aid and guidance we have created a knot of stability within an otherwise tumultuous land. You have far exceeded anything that the Stag Lord might have wrought." Kesten adds in, nodding. "Your aid has been indispensible these last few months, but I have been working on a local militia and permanent guard. I believe we should be self-sufficient for the month-to-month affairs, although we'll still need to convene monthly."
Resuming exploration!
Svetlana clears her throat. "Friends, it is good news indeed about our settlement, however, I hold other of another. I have received word from a new town to the east that has recently formed, named Varnhold. Under the leadership of an ex-adventuring group lead by Jester Varn, this "colorful" sounding individual has sought audience with you all here, in one months time. As much as I am sure that you are itching to have sleep under the stars on tree roots and rocks (she amusedly shakes her head), It may be important that you to meet with them. Their circumstances sound quite similar to your own, and there is potentially much that can be accomplished between cooperation."
The remainder of the Leaders chime in, but generally support both assertions: Hopefeld is prepared for the party to resume exploration, and that it would be wise to meet with this Jester Varn.
Thurl brings down a mighty swing, making up for some of his previous poor showing, while Vorsirion swings wildly. The worgs show definite signs of withdrawing.
Happy 4th of July! I hope everyone is having a good 4th; I've been panicking dog duty the past few days as people stretch out shooting fireworks beyond any reasonable timeframe :P
I have received word back from Raven's player that they were taking a sudden departure from the boards due to burnout and other personal matters with no word if or when they would be back (with it sounding more like the later.) I'm not sure where that puts us with the game / party. I am certainly regaining a semblance of a life again, so I'm game to continue. It might be difficult to recruit at the start of the second book with a slower paced game, however.
Anyway, I do have exciting things coming up soon :)
Raven glances over at Vorsirion, which appears to have been a mistake as the remaining worg on her manages to grab hold of her leg in her moment of distraction and pull her to the ground, savaging her and re-opening wounds that Alamina just healed.
(A cleric's work is never done.)
The howls in the distance sound again, almost angrier.
Next up: Everyone! I'll move things forward after everyone acts again, probably after the 5th. Please see the OOC Discussion.
Hopefully everything has calmed down with you Thurl. That doesn't sound fun, at all.
The "Light" group is still chugging along. They have lost one member (with a familiar "fell off the face of the earth" manner completely unexpectedly) and a few have had to take time off, but it has had a much more consistent roster.
I hope to wrap up this combat, then start dropping some more (hopefully) interesting exposition / foreshadowing.
The battle begins to stretch on, and even though it has been mere moments, the endurance of both sides seems to be tested. Each of the party misses in their attack, and Alamina desperately attempts to keep the party up and standing. Then the worgs lunge forward, unable to find purchase in their blows.
From the distance, you hear a reverberating howl, that almost has a sound of annoyance. The two remaining worgs growl in response, their ears pinned back.
Sense Motive:
The worgs almost seem terrified of the canine howling in the distance
Re: Raven: I checked Raven's profile, and I can't find anywhere that they've posted on the forums since the end of May. I've sent a Private Message to see what's going on with them; hopefully they're doing ok. Raven was one of the players that pushed the hardest to get this game running in the first place.
For now until they say otherwise, I would assume that they would be GM-NPCed. This does leave us in the position that there are currently only three active players. That does leave us in a kind of a difficult spot.
Although the pack of worgs has been thinned in number, one proves that it is still a threat by latching onto raven with a rending bite, pulling her to the ground as well!
The Slayer and Occultist deal crippling blows to their respective foes, with the worg fighting Vorsirion clearly having enough and slinking away. One worg, clearly not learning the lesson of its compatriots moves forward to attack Raven.
Attack @Raven:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
The worg nearly trips over himself trying to trip Raven.
You can go defensive, but that counters the -4 AC for being prone. Which is certainly something you can do, but eatting the AoO might be better. Your call, however.
Vorsirion manages to down the beast that Thurl previously attacked, while Raven does a considerable blow to her own (while not quite finishing it.) The remainder of the beasts close in, although only one is close enough to attack Raven, the other two move to tactical positions.
blue:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
The beast on Raven misses wildly, giving the party another opportunity to attack!
With one, then two, then an echoing howl, the beasts amble forward slowly, yet purposefully, growling low.
Thurl's shot takes one of the beasts in the shoulder as it nears, but isn't enough to down it. It and another chomp at the inquisitor, approaching (but not quite achieving) a flank. The final black-furred creature bites out at Raven.
The man shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny. "Wolves is all I saw. Can't say there couldn't have been any humanoids around, but I'm sure that it was a black canine that took the legs right out from under my horse. They did seem gods-damned cunning, though I didn't stick around to look."
Rule of two to engage!
Following the directions given by the survivor, the party sets off to rescue the stranded settlers (reservations about the apparent intelligence of your quarry aside.) You have little difficulty, as the miles surrounding Hopefeld are becoming a second home to you and you approach the stone outcropping with an hour of light before dusk. If the landmark wasn't enough, as you near there is a infrequent growl or low howl that can be becomes more recognizable as you approach.
Clearing some of the more rocky terrain, you find the small copse of trees and jutting stone to be surrounded by a half dozen impressively large, jet-black furred wolves.
Knowledge Arcana DC 12:
The "wolves" are in fact Worgs.
The creatures are fixated on the raised stone; too steep and high for them to get to the stranded survivors that all bear the signs of attack. One of the men cries out as you approach, and the beasts turn towards the unexpected arrival of those that might threaten their meal. From the back, a large black wolf emits a set of growls and noises that almost sound intelligible, before it fades into the surroundings, leaving the rest of them snarling towards you in his wake.
Well, my posting plans were shot by an emergency vet visit over the weekend, but I'm returning to the swing of things (hopefully everyone survived Memorial Day.) I've been working through the plan laid out before of building: On the middle of Month three, you've built the following: Dancehall, two houses, Mill, Jail. You've had some moderate success on your economy, bringing you to 31 BP.
However, the populace apparently was disconcerted enough by the Werewolf that you failed your Unrest Check. I'm not sure if that changes your plans at all: You can attempt to have your Royal Enforcer reduce the Unrest by 1, or buy a building that reduces it.
Feel free to check the Kingdom Sheet Here and my Math Here.
I'm also working on the next RP update to attempt to regain some momentum.
Hey there everyone. I just wanted to pop in to say that I'm back and survived the past few weeks; they've been incredibly insane, but things should be quieting down and I'll be dedicating a chunk of time tomorrow to getting things in gear again with the game.
A quick update from me: I'm working on getting the next transition up, but fell short tonight. I did want to say I'm still alive and give an update on my life status:
The Good: After doing the work of two different positions for half a year now, I'm finally being promoted to the new position.
The Bad: There currently isn't a backfill for my old position, so now I'm *literally* doing the work of two people. All my usual windows of time to work on PbP have been gobbled up as I juggle things... at least for another week or so.
The Amazing: I've been selected to fly out to Vegas in about two weeks and pitch a game idea! (sadly can't share too much.)
The Ugly: I've fallen remarkably short on posting. The next leg has some logistics to get over, and I've let things get drawn out horribly bad. I am working to catch up, but it's been rough. I hope I haven't lost people, but I understand it's hard to keep a game going with a GM that can't consistently commit.
The decision to retain Akiros, or at the very least not force him to face Taldan punishment, is unanimous among the party. There is some unease around the rest of the Leaders, however, in this situation there is no obvious good answer, and Akiros has proven to be a force of Good these past few months, something to aspire to among those with a seedier past. There is sure to be some long term enmity from at least a few Taldan nobles, but they are far away, and whatever threat they might hold is just as distant.
Returning to Akiros, you find him still sitting rigidly as if he is expecting an executioner's axe any minute. Hearing that he was to be spared, a rare display of emotion flickers across the ex-paladin's face. He begins to speak, then his voice cracks, tears beginning to run down his cheek. "Thank... Thank you. I know I will spend the rest of my life attempting to return this trust you have shown me. As painful as this is... I am almost glad. Glad to not be running or hiding from my past." He bows to you all. "Is... is there anything else that you would have for me at this time?"
One last chance to definitively state what you guys are going to do. I have a "dragging the plot along" post I can make, although you guys seem like you're on the right track, and Kundal is willing to go along with you.
Akiros stands as Raven marches into his somewhat humble office. The large man seemed to have grown into his position and his clean tabard, well trimmed beard, and general ease with which he has provided the fledgling community. In general, he seemed at odds with the rough life that he had led in the service of the Stag Lord, and particularly the accusations that were hurled at him.
An array of emotions flash across his face: suprise at the party's sudden appearance, shock at Raven's charge, confusion, alarm, shame, and... resignation? One of his hands draws up to his neck, gently touching at some small object that you've known to be hidden there, then he places his hands to the table in an obvious motion to show he isn't reaching for his weapon. Looking at you like a man condemned, he clears his throat.
"I suppose it was a matter of time before this came out, now that attention is being drawn to our small settlement. I.. had wished this would have come up in better terms, though I thank you for giving me a chance to respond. I know many that would have given me no chance to explain."
He sighs. "I know I've alluded to my past, to before I joined the Stag Lord, but it isn't easy to discuss matters of great shame, especially when you're a man drowning in despair grasping for something to steady yourself. It all began a lifetime ago, when I was a paladin of Erastil. I was young, vain, proud, sure of my righteousness. I was assigned to a small town in Taldor, a growing community that had occasional threats of goblins. When there wasn't a threat, however, the town's Baron charged me with guarding with wife, the baroness."
He pauses. "She was also young, far younger than the baron, lovely, and just as bored and lonely as I was. You can imagine where that led to, though I swear on my life that what we did was consensual. I knew at the time it was wrong, but I'd convinced myself that I must have remained in the graces of Erastil, as he didn't desert me.
Only, somehow the Baron found out. If I had to guess, a servant looking for favor told him; Taldor seems to breed whispers and betrayals. Regardless, he came to my temple in a drunken rage, dragging her with him. Shouting I raped her, her crying and not contradicting him... I'm sure she was just looking after herself. But even though she betrayed me... I couldn't betray her, and would have accepted that. but then he lunged for his sword, and it was like a red haze descended on me. I can still see it in slow motion how I raised my own sword... and killed him. That's how I Fell.
There's little else to tell from that. I ran, with only what I had on myself at the time, hiding out, hiring out as a mercenary, barely doing anything but living until I fell in with the Stag Lord. And you know how things went from there."
He falls silent a moment. "So that... that's it, I think. Even with my side of the story, I know by Taldor law I'm guilty of a host of crimes, and that even defending myself against the Baron would be punishable by death. I thought that... maybe here, I could find some atonement for my crimes, but I suppose that's not possible now."
You can sense that he's telling the truth, all of it.
Moving forward a bit, and adding 3 months to the backlog of Kingdom Months
With the threat of Kundal resolved, there is relative peace for the next few months as the party continues to supervise the development of their fledgling settlement before the colder weather of winter descends. Overall, large leaps and bounds have occured over the previous months: paths that were barely dirt roads have been covered in cobblestone, outlying farms have added self sufficiency, and the militia efforts have kept the populace safe from the various threats of the Stolen Lands. One threat to the stability of the Kingdom comes from within, however...
Svetlana, heavy with child, sends Oleg with a request for you to meet her in Oleg's Post, the mercantile store that she and Oleg have built that also doubles as hub of communciation between merchants, settlers, and Brevoy. She currently is able to fulfil her duties (largely with the aid of Oleg for more physically demanding tasks), but there has been discussion of her needing to abdicate her role as she gets closer to her due date. Regardless, it's immediately clear from her unusually guarded expression that this isn't merely a social call. Sitting up in her padded chair, she skips pleasantries after making sure the door to her offices were closed.
"I have received some quite unsettling information about one of our associates, Akiros... Obviously we have all known that he has had a fall from grace that led to his falling in with the Stag Lord, and has worked admirably these past months organizing some of the more.. unsavory elements of our settlement, including the ex-bandits. However, if this information is true, if not dealt with... Well, I'll let you all decide."
She glances down to some letters. "The information I was sent from Lloyd Rezbin while he's visiting his family is that Akiros is a wanted for murder and rape in Taldor. The information he has found is that charges of raping a noblewoman were levied against him by her husband and that in response, Akiros murdered the man in cold blood. That doesn't seem like the man we know... but who knows what demons haunt him?" She sighs. "Rezbin is trying to find more details, but if he found this out, others will as well. Rumors of harboring a murderer will spread if we don't take care of this."
Poking in; I'm working on the next update, but trying to go for quality over "getting something in". I'll have something one way or another tomorrow evening at the latest, however.
Kundal sheathes his sword and nods respectfully. "I will work to ensure that my sins are atoned for, in service to the peoples here..." His capable services are added to the militia Kesten Garress is forming.
In the aftermath and excitement of solving the murders, one final piece of the puzzles falls into place. Investigating Osgrove's effects, you find a note detailing how the ex-bandit knew Saki, and noticed her absence, then the disappearance of the shepherd. Trying to prove himself by investigating matters, over the month he had pieced together that "the barbarian" might have had some involvement, and went to the tavern to follow him, which lead to his untimely demise. However, his sacrifice likely saved the lives of other innocents; who knows how long the killings might have gone on otherwise?
I've had a similar problem off and on, though I've realized that if I navigate by my account to the posts I can find them. Also http://paizo.com/campaigns/KingmakerLegaciesOfDust/discussion&page=last should work.
As there are no objections, in order to move things on, we'll go with the crypts.
Reinforcing the door to the crypts seemed the most expedient route, and some hasty effort is put into the effort by a few craftsmen selected by Jhod Kavken. Kundal goes into the place of the dead with a measure of stoicism, leaving his sword behind and only taking a waterskin and some rations to tide him over. The extra layer of iron and shoring up with stone to trap the Shoanti in the crypts may have seemed a bit of overkill.. until the moon set and a tremendous howling reverberated, even through the stone and limited entryways. Throughout the night, loud, resounding snarls, bangs, and thuds could be heard, though the reinforced doorways held. In the morning, an apologetic and disheveled Kundal yelled to be freed for the day, though willing to return through the full moon.
Although the Wolfsbane wasn't immediately available, your efforts have given the Occultist and Inquisitor a month's time to obtain and administer a potential antidote made from the herb, just in time for the return of the full moon. Kundal retreated to his "cage" once more, setting himself in for the evening, but the morning after the cure was given, there is no indication that he transformed! Allowing a few more days of observation to be sure, it certainly seems that the Shoanti was cleared of his murderous affliction.
Once the threat of the full moon left once more, Kundal seeks out the party, proffering his Greatsword. In heavily accented common, the large man states, "You have freed me of my nightmare and prevented me from harming others; you did not have to do this. In gratitude, I offer you my sword." The way he makes his offer, it is clear that he refers to either his physical weapon, or his loyalty, though likely not both.
The party mulls over various ideas for how to secure the (presumably) afflicted Kundal, for the short term at least. Vorsirion and Thurl debate the merits of chains, particularly of the silver variety, though their intellect calls out two apparent issues with bindings (particularly argent bindings.) First, they lack sufficient precious metals readily available to make such chains / manacles. Second, if Kundal is a lycanthrope as surmised, any sort of bindings that would fit the physical specimen that is the Shoanti would likely do little good if he were to shift into an animal's form.
There isn't a "cell" readily available for Kundal to stay in, however two potential locations are immediately available: the Owlbear pen in the keep, or the crypts. The later is likely to be more easily reinforced; there are two entrances, but one has a sturdy door in the basement of the keep, and the other is a trap door that could be hastily reinforced.
While locking up the hapless Shoanti is a short term solution, Vorsirion investigates a potential cure using Wolfsbane. The herb isn't locally grown, but through conversations with a few merchants the party has ascertained that they can gather an adequate supply for the Occultist and Inquisitor to work on a potential remedy with sufficient time before the next full moon.
If this works for everyone, I'll move things forward. I mostly need to know if you go with the owlbear pen, the crypts, or some other place to store him for the next few nights for his own good.
The Shoanti relents and sighs, laying the sword on the bed. "Kundal. Kundal is my name. And I will do as you say, if you think it will allow others to avoid being harmed by my actions. I wish for no more blood."
In the Discussion tab, give me an idea on how you want to secure him; we don't need an entirely IC solution, and reasonable suggestions will work. On the plus side, I have a reasonably free few days that I'm going to dedicate to gaming and moving things along :)
Thurl and Vorsirion, you recall a form of herb Wolfsbane, that could possibly remove the affliction. Magical aids probably wouldn't help.
The Shoanti looks at the party, somewhat surprised at the fair treatment he is given. "I commend myself into your care, should you seek to cure me of this affliction. Should you turn on me, however..." He leaves the words dangling. "What would you suggest then? I can retire to the wilds for the next few days..."
The man slumps back, still gripping his sword. "No... I cannot... this cannot be. The dreams, they cannot be real, can they?" He sighs, resolutely. "If this is true, what would you have me do?"
The Shoanti glances nervously around. He appears uncertain, and a look of attempting to make a run for it through the party and out one of the shuttered windows appears to be writ across his face, then quickly discarded as suicidal.
The combined efforts at diplomacy seem to get to him, as he slumps down a bit. "The last night... I awoke here. I do not know who was murdered, or how blood came here, but I woke up covered in it." He looks up earnestly. "This is the truth. These dreams of red... they cannot be real." He glances at his sword, which does not appear to have blood on it. "This blade is the sword of my forefathers, and it would break if it was bathed in the blood not shed in defense" he mutters resolutely.
The large man glares about, blinking red eyes, taking in the scene and the intruders. His initial impulse appears to be to attack, but outnumbered and surrounded, he holds back... for now. He whispers a curse in varisian
Varisian:
"Gods blight with boils these arrogant a~#+@+*
He seems utterly uncooperative, muttering, "I don't know anything about disappearances or murder, as for the community, what kind of a community watch breaks into someone's home!?"
Sense Motive DC 14:
He's clearly rattled by something, and clenches his teeth at the mention of 'murder'
Sense Motive DC 22:
At the mention of 'murder' he glances to the pile of bloody rags that once were clothing.
I was going to roll that behind the screen, but geez...
Vorsirion and Thurl prowl in cautiously and quietly, barely disturbing the floorboards as they move in. As Vorsirion approaches, however, the Shoanti's eyes snap open and stare right at the elf, as if some supernatural sense alerted him. He clutches his sword, and bellows out, his words mildly slurred, "Hey, you! Whatya doing in here! This is my place!"
He doesn't immediately move to attack, but he waves his sword threateningly and glares in a menacing manner.
You open the door to a small house, three "rooms" barely divided by thin walls. The "main" room holds a few crude furnishings: a trio of wooden stools with ale steins on the floor beside them. Attached there is a small kitchen area, that doesn't look like it's been cleaned in a few days, with a small woodburning fire and kettle, and a small table with chair.
In the back of the room, there is what appears to be a bedroom. There's a large male dressed in hide armor, notably a Shoanti barbarian given his impressive tattoos, currently sitting on the bed with his eyes closed, rubbing his head. He doesn't seem to have noticed you immediately, Assuming Thurl continues the quiet approach himself
Near the bed, within arms reach is an impressively large sword, though not quite the lethal bar of metal that Raven wields. Also, nearby, are shredded remnants of clothing, with a notable amount of blood drying on the rags.
I haven't been able to get to the My Campaigns tab for at least a day. At first I couldn't reach the site at all, then I kept getting a blank tab. After getting fed up I tried going through my various user names, and can reach posts from there.
Hopefully others can find a similar way of viewing things, though I'm glad it's not just me ;)
Still here, though I'm waiting to see what if anything the party wants to do. Do you approach the door and knock, knock down the door, decide to go a different way?
