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Lallatwittle's page
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I there anywhere that Paizo has actually stated this to be more than player base conjecture as RAW? If I were to bring a character to a PFS table, I don't want it subjective from GM to GM if possible.
Thanks!
Ah, I already planned it to be two interchanging ships, even statted some stuff out for the second ship already. I'll set it back to the six week intervals with the communication assumption. Thanks.
I thought about that...but I'm wondering if my players might laugh at that.
Hi everyone,
In the module, it states the characters traveled 6 weeks to arrive from Almas. In the module, there's also talk that PCs who place orders will receive a 6 week turn around. If a one way trip is 6 weeks, how is a 2 way trip also 6 weeks?
I've modified for my group by splitting the difference a bit, 4 week one way trip so 8 week turn around but I'm wondering if there's any information out there addressing this. Thanks.
Hi everyone,question. The info on roughing it states that the ship will return with supplies every 6 weeks but the initial arrival box text talks about it being a 6 week trip from almas to the island. Which is correct? Is it a 12 week turn around or a 6 week turn around (and I should adjust box text accordingly)? thanks!
My apologies to any readers but we ended up with an unexpected real life forced break but we'll be picking back up in 2-3 weeks.
Alexander Kilcoyne wrote: Its been a good read and i've caught some terms I used in my PbP which Barator played in which is nice to see :P. Always like reading a good KM campaign. Very good to hear! Haha, yes, Barator told me you were his GM when he saw you marked my thread. He's my husband! :)
Alexander Kilcoyne wrote: Dot. Thanks! I hope you enjoy it!
Session 3 (Saturday April 14th, 2012)
Attendance: Zaktatticus-Biddolbom Fanboddium, Theodric, Ursa Glynthar
NPCs Encountered: Kressle, Unnamed Wolf, Rej, Anda, Tayel,
B&Ms Encountered: Stag Lord Bandits x12, Kressle, Trollhound, Wild Pig,
Locations: Kressle’s Bandit Camp, Mites’ Brambles, Oqerall’s Farm
With time running against us we realized that burial for the dead was unrealistic and I suggested we set up a funeral pyre and leave it for Oleg to tend to. That took significantly less time and by early afternoon we were on our way towards Kressle’s encampment.
Before we left I brought up that it would be important to leave with a plan. If we were riding through the night we would have needed to bring extra horses to change mounts midway preventing them from being pushed to sickness or death. If on the other hand we were planning to rest the night then there was no need to burden ourselves with guiding an extra four horses for the trip. Being as depleted as we were, it was eventually decided that camping for the night along the way was best for everyone.
While discussing the final details of our route options Oleg informed us that the Oqerall’s farm would be approximately twenty miles to the south of the trading post, along the forest’s boundary. He related the members of the stead as Rej, his wife Anda, and their son Tayel.
We swapped our horses for four of the bandit’s horses as Origen and Ursa were quite certain that they would move us more quickly through the terrain than our original mounts. While the majority of our group moved at Major’s pace, these new mounts were fast enough for Origen to range ahead of the group to allow us to follow in the footsteps of the bandits. It simply seemed smarter to follow their tracks than rely solely on the directions we were given.
Along the way the group debated the merits of actively seeking out the Oqerall’s Farm based on our map and information but in the end people seemed to agree with me that staying with the tracks would be more prudent as it would be a more reliable means of information.
After several hours of a mostly mono-directional set of tracks, the ten horses veered off to the east, away from the forest line. A few miles down the tracks crossed with a set coming from the north which we assume to be Huhl’s based on what Nish had told us this morning. I mention that Huhl’s tracks would likely be a straighter route to our target as he was heading to their encampment to warn them of our presence in the area while the large group might have had other stops on their way out of Oleg’s. Concerned that the single set of tracks would be too difficult to follow; I then reverted back to the idea of following our original trail. Origen assured me that he would have little no to no trouble following the single set of tracks so we redirected to follow Huhl for the rest of our journey.
As night fell we set up camp and I made dinner.
Fangberries (Beauty and the Beast) (A Scene Narrative by Lallatwittle)
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom straightened his vest and grasped the collar of it with his right hand. He looked across the campfire at his companions and smiled.
“If we’re going to go hunting for some fangberries, I thought I should tell you a bit about where they come from. There’s actually quite a story associated with how they came to being!” Zaktatticus took a swig from his clay mug before continuing.
“This was a very long time ago, and legend has it, it happened in the very hills we will be foraging for our own berries. Have you wondered why exactly they are called Fangberries?”
His colleagues gave him a puzzled look.
“Well, there was once a young fey maiden who had two suitors both rumored to have been obsessed with her. One was a mortal man who had the talent for creation, particularly inclined, but not limited to the art of jewelry making. It was even said that he was blessed by Shelyn herself. It is in fact how I came to learn of this tale, through Ebbeline’s tales of the Eternal Rose. His name was Jeddic.
The other suitor was a prince among the fey kind who had set his sights on the young fey damsel when they were both but children. He took it to be his right to claim her for his own from birthright alone.
The young fey maiden became enamored with Jeddic and saw in him so many qualities she admired and adored. She planned to run away with him one midsummer when the fairy trods were most accessible. The fey prince’s father discovered their plan and was outraged that the fey maiden would choose a mortal man over his own son. He tracked down Jeddic and placed a terrible curse on him turning him into an ugly bestial creature. The transformation was painful, so much so that Jeddic found himself falling to the ground as he writhed in pain. Jeddic’s torso swelled in size, his shoulder’s widened, and his hands lengthened into claws. A dark brown fur burst from his skin with the exception of a single streak of white down his back. Horns sprouted from his head and fanged incisors sprouted jutted out of his mouth while much of his face grew into a muzzle with a noticeable overbite; these last changes were the most painful. This curse wiped his lover from his mind and turned his heart cold.”
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom paused and stoked the fire with a fresh twig and adjusted the fire beneath the simmering stew pot to ensure even heating.
Origen, Theodric, and Ursa finished the final touches of setting up camp and joined Zaktatticus-Biddolbom by the fire to give him their undivided attention as the story progressed. Major strolled over, lied down, and placed his head on Ursa’s lap expectantly.
“The exact details of this love story are another tale entirely however, so now we fast forward a few decades. In the hills Jeddic had built a small sanctuary for himself where he would not be mistreated for his appearance or made demands of by others that he had no desire to fulfill. This sanctuary was a place of beauty, there was a mansion surrounded on all sides by an enchanted hedge maze twenty feet tall. The hedge maze supported many exotic types of vegetation from the edible to the poisonous.
After a few decades Jeddic became painfully aware that his curse had also stripped of him his human mortality. He grew lonely.”
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom finished cutting some root vegetables and tossed them into the already stewing rabbit with spices. He gave it a quick stir and a taste before returning the cap to the bubbling concoction.
“Shelyn had not given up hope on Jeddic though. She subtly and slyly manipulated the world around him in hopes that she could stoke the fires within him and melt his now cold heart. One day, Jeddic was in the maze designing a choker inspired by a star shaped yellow fruit when he heard an intoxicating melody from outside his sanctuary. He approached it and found a middle aged man, dressed in simple peasant garbs, tended to a horse that had gotten snagged by some vines. A young woman about sixteen years of age was gathering some fruit off the outer wall of the hedge and singing to herself.
Jeddic burst forth declaring her act as thievery and demanded recompense. The young woman dropped the fruits she carried as her knees buckled at the sight before her. Both interlopers dropped to their knees and begged forgiveness for their ignorant transgressions. The shock and fear shimmered off them with their sweat as their bodies trembled.
Jeddic looked upon the pair with his hardened heart but something strange happened as he stared into the maiden’s eyes. He found a familiarity he didn’t understand. He took pity upon his thieves and took to questioning their actions instead of killing them for their trespasses.
He asked the man a few questions and determined that the man’s name was Korthes. The young woman was his daughter and named Ilsa. The two were traveling through to a relative’s farm where they planned to settle since Korthes had been recently widowed.”
Ursa handed Zaktatticus-Biddolbom a few twigs he had whittled into skewers. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom placed a few of the foraged vegetables on the skewers along with a touch of foraged herbs and placed the skewers vertically nestled in some rocks by the fire. The bird that had been roasting over the flames looked ready; Zaktatticus-Biddolbom reached out and pulled it from the fire complete with its spit.
“The bulk of the dinner won’t be ready for a bit but it looks like the bird is, we can have a nibble while we wait for the rest of it.”
Origen reached out and grabbed a drumstick, Theodric pulled off a nice chunk of the breast meat, Ursa took the other drumstick, and Zaktatticus-Biddolbom took the remaining meat off the bone and threw the carcass to Major. Major lunged at his share while it was still in mid-air.
After a taste of the fatty bird meat Zaktatticus-Biddolbom thought it would make a nice addition to the stew so he cut up part of his share and tossed in the stew pot to mingle with the other ingredients.
“Now, where was I? Oh yes!
Korthes’ peasant garb was encrusted with dirt and synched at the waste with a simple knotted rope. His hair was the color of straw and matted in such a way that it looked to belong more on the floor of a stable stall than on a man’s head. His scraggly beard was short and had voids where the man’s face had been marred by scarring. His small belly, over emphasized against the almost under fed state of the rest of his body.
Ilsa on the other hand had long straw colored hair, pulled back in braids that hung nearly to her knees. Her skin was tanned and chapped in parts from sun exposure and her hands were calloused over from menial labor. She was by far better groomed than her father.
Jeddic stood in thought for several moments before responding. He remembered a childhood story his mother had told him, thoughts that had not crossed his mind since he took on his bestial form. This gave Jeddic an idea!
Jeddic offered a deal, Ilsa would stay and keep him company for an entire year in exchange for his forgiveness. Seeing no alternative for their predicament and fearing for their lives Ilsa agreed despite her father’s objections. Jeddic helped Korthes free the mare and even gave Korthes a bit of fruit for his trip then whisked Ilsa into his home.
Ilsa was treated like a princess, as much of the manor was automated through enchantments she had no need to clean or cook and was given free reign over the house to explore, read, and sing. She was given her own room with luxuries beyond her wildest dreams and a closet so full of beautiful clothes that Ilsa felt silly donning. The only thing Jeddic asked of her was for a song each evening before dinner, which she respectfully obliged. Even with such treatment, Ilsa worried that at any moment Jeddic’s amusement with her would fade and she would be fated for the dinner table as an entrée.”
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom turned the skewers by the fire to ensure they didn’t burn then continued with his tale.
“During her first month’s stay Ilsa attempted to flee her captor twice. Both times she found herself tired, confused, and hungry in the maze. The first time she plucked a fruit that looked like a lemon shaped pear that smelled strangely of honeysuckle but upon biting into it tasted bitter and brought on such dizziness that she fell unconscious within minutes.
The second time she stumbled her way into an area with particularly animated vines, living and writhing. Unaware of her footing the vines gave way under one foot while tangling itself around her other leg. She fell and broke her leg then crawled away from the dangerous plant life before succumbing to her pain.
Both times Jeddic found her, carried her home, and nursed her back to health. Ilsa was far more lucid during her second rescue and recovery than she was during her first. It was during this time that she began to really bond with Jeddic and the two’s friendship blossomed.
At the end of the year, Korthes came to collect his daughter who said her goodbyes to Jeddic with a tear in her eye. It was clear that she had grown genuinely fond of Jeddic. As a parting gift Jeddic gave her a jewel encrusted golden hair comb shaped like a songbird that he had designed and crafted himself. The value of such an item would have brought out the envy of even royalty.”
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom stirred the stew and took a small taste. The rabbit stew was almost ready. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom threw in a few hand torn greens and closed the lid and figured he had just enough time to finish his story.
“News of what happened spread and soon Jeddic, now called Fang by the masses found himself with many fathers bringing their daughters for his companionship in hopes of new found wealth. Most found themselves turned away as Fang found them uninspiring at best. Intermittently he found a maiden he would make the same offer to, but never would he allow for more than one to stay with him at any one time.
This continued for decades, each repeating the same scenarios, each leaving with a single item of wealth that he would craft for them himself. Some friendships were stronger than others but it seemed none of the maidens ever seemed able to truly look past his bestial appearance.
On a few occasions Fang even found himself being fooled initially by the charm of the young maiden only to find out their behaviors were far from pious or kind. The worst was one young maiden by the name of Riviana who attempted to kill him in his sleep. She failed of course, but after ejecting her from his property he refused to see anyone for several years, until the loneliness once again overcame his concerns.
Eventually he realized that what he sought could never be achieved through his methods and despite the misery it would cause him; he closed the doors to his property for good. The entranceway to the hedge maze grew shut and the entire manor reverted to a state of calm and sadness while he worked in his studio in the basement day after day hoping to find what he was looking for through his work.
One evening Fang had just finished dinner when he heard screaming from outside. He thought to ignore it at first, figuring it to be a trap to lure his attention. As the scream continued he realized the sound carried far too much pain or fear for it to be faked and he tore through his maze, the plants themselves parted to allow him passage.
He came upon quite a scene; a woman in her mid-thirties had been thrown off her horse by a pack of wolves that were then pressing their advantage. Her hand sown blue dress had been torn in several places as she tried to tear herself away from her attackers with little luck.
Fang lunged at her attackers and after taking down two with his bare hands the rest routed, fleeing in all directions. Both Fang and his damsel were hurt but calming the woman he picked her up and took her inside where he bandaged her and allowed her to clean up. The two talked as they helped clean each other’s wounds.
When the woman introduced herself as Mira, the bestial man searched his mind for his own name but found only one came to mind “Fang”. So it came to pass that even he had found himself associating his appearance to his identity.
Mira stayed with Fang, not out of pity or a hope of fortunes but because she was grateful for his kindness and saw something in him that no one else had in a long time.
No one knows exactly how it happened or why but what is known is that after a few years of the two of them together someone finally figured out how to penetrate the defenses of Fang’s sanctuary.
It was a mercenary working for a far off crown that had heard of the wealth available in Fang’s possession. A duke wanted it for himself, seeing a creature such as Fang unworthy of such things. The assassin was tall, probably had a bit of orc blood in him that bulked the width of his shoulders. His hair was white and long, hanging loose on his back; dressed in ‘knightly’ armor from head to toe he bore a well-crafted halberd which he used to attack Fang.
The battle was long and arduous; both gave and took ground, but eventually Fang’s untrained body despite his size, and constitution could not win out against the obvious training his attacker had to back him. As the halberd was raised in a final blow, Mira jumped in front of the blade only to have it cleave into both her body and that of Fang’s. Moments before Fang’s death, as Mira’s blood sprayed his body, his form changed. He shrunk and convulsed into Jeddic, no older than when he was first transformed, his last thoughts were in thanks to Mira for everything she had given him.
The assassin left to report to his duke that the manor was now safe to be occupied as a summer home or for any other purpose his lord saw fit. When the duke’s entourage arrived a few weeks later, the entire manor and hedge maze were gone but where the assassin had left the bodies had sprouted a strange berry bush; the fruit of which we now call the fangberry. It’s very existence a tribute to Fang. Even in death he was a creator. Its shape comes from Fang’s fangs and its very color comes from the blood that Fang and Mira shed upon their deaths. I think that with every berry you taste his very life and being, the sweet, the sour, and the bitter of his existence.”
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom tested the stew once more and gave a nod. “Dinner’s ready.”
As dinner progressed we heard wolves howling in the distance. Ursa assured us all that they were quite a distance away and were not likely to physically assault us in the night. With that knowledge we opted for a cold camp for the night to decrease our chances of being attacked by the local bandits. We should reach Kressle’s encampment by mid to late morning.
10th of Pharast, 4712
I have some time to myself while the Origen and Theodric get some more sleep. They woke this morning exhausted by the constant howls and bays of the wolves last night. Apparently my thrashing and yelling during the night didn’t help Theodric either (though I chose not to share that with him as he figured it to be part of his disturbed night’s dream).
I’m surprised I woke up as well rested as I did. I’m certain it’s thanks to Ursa waking me before the worst of the nightmare took me last night. It was the same as before. I was walking through the field where the wounded and dead lay side by side on the ground. Svetlana screamed in the distance, only this time I heard other screams as well, and the moans of pain from the wounded were amplified also. I think perhaps the baying and howling of the wolves transformed in my mind. Oleg ran at me, grabbed me as he fell to his knees, and blamed me for getting him and his wife killed, for bringing trouble.
When Ursa roused me from my sleep he seemed as if he had seen a ghost. My skin had changed to the color of burned flesh, drenched in cold sweat, and my hair was shifting colors rapidly. I think perhaps my appearance disturbed him. He helped calm me and looked after me until I was again asleep. I don’t remember any other dreams for the rest of the night.
This morning while I was getting our breakfast rations heated by the fire Ursa sat next to me and we had a good long talk. He asked me about my nightmare and I explained my discomfort and being haunted since my return to the Stolen Lands. You would think that after so many years I would have gotten over it but Ursa explicated that he believed I perhaps needed to face my past and resolve it in a way that I hadn’t done so in all the years I had been away. He also reassured me that I would not be doing so alone and I could count on him for support. I appreciated what he said and I think maybe he’s right. I left and started a new life but never resolved my past here. Maybe that’s why Ebbeline sent me back here. If she and Ursa have faith in me to face things then I shouldn’t let them down. I will GNOME UP!
I know that I at least no longer hold the anger I had when I left this place and I do not seek revenge, I only hope to make this place safer for people to thrive in.
It’s almost high sun I hope Origen and Theodric are more up for traveling. We would have left this morning despite their state if we didn’t think the upcoming battle would need all of us at our best.
Late afternoon the tracks had started to appear more frequently so we decided to find a secluded area to leave our horses and some of our heavier possessions. We then proceeded to bumble around the forest on foot. Hooked up with our climbing kit for support Origen climbed a tree to look around but saw no signs of the encampment. Theodric heard fake bird calls in one area but we could not find the blinds the bandits hid in. We followed the river too far, but eventually doubled back and walked into a small clearing where the bandits were ready to ambush us.
Early this morning I had reviewed in my mind the information we were given about the bandit camp but for some reason when we all got together and had different opinions of the information we had I allowed my opinions to be confused by new information. Next time I will copy any maps and note any information given into my journal for later reference so that we won’t have such mix ups when we are putting our lives on the line.
A single volley of arrows was let loose from the trees followed by a demand for our immediate surrender. We all knew we were at the disadvantage and greatly outnumbered but after what Ursa said to me this morning I wasn’t about to back down to another group of bandits. I whispered my refusal to the group and they backed me.
I could make out where all three clusters of our enemy hid. Pointed Theodric at the closest and he threw a bomb right into the blind. All four of them came flying out of the trees, on fire, and dead upon impact with the ground below. Quite an impressive shot he made.
Another volley of arrows flew at us, two stuck into Theodric’s chest. I conjured an illusionary stage curtain a few feet in front of one of the blinds, blocking the archers from shooting the group. I figured it would force them to either wait things out or climb down the tree and end up in melee range with our group. Either option meant I would buy us some time.
On the third group Ursa called for the power of the green and the plant life around the foursome sprung to life wrapping around the bandits and entangling them. We suddenly found ourselves in a much more controlled flow of enemies.
Kressle jumped off a ledge about fifteen or so feet to our right and engaged us but with only one other bandit able to make his way towards us through the awakened vines we were able to place our forces around Kressle and quickly deal her severe damage. She fled almost immediately, and called out behind her for her men to continue fighting.
I devised a plan with Theodric that he and I would coordinate fire on the blind I had covered us from. As it takes great concentration for me to conjure such massive images I could do little else but flank and distract other enemies. I waited for Theodric to be ready to throw a bomb before I would open the curtain to give him an opening and be ready to close it in case the bomb had proven to be less than effective.
As more of those entangled in the vines worked their way out and attacked us, Theodric went unconscious. I pulled a potion and prepared to pour it down Theodric’s throat when Ursa stopped me and assured me he’d take care of Theodric but that we couldn’t afford me to drop concentration on my spell.
One of the archers got a blind shot on me grazing my arm but I managed to concentrate through the pain and keep the curtain up.
Ursa and I took turns providing Origen a flank on various targets, making it easier for Origen to exploit their weaknesses as we maneuvered our fight deeper into enemy held terrain. Major saw an archer in the distance shooting at us and charged, lunging at the archer’s throat. Theodric called that an enemy behind my curtain was starting to climb down. He called for me to drop my spell. I assumed he had a surprise planned for the tree and did so.
Unfortunately that is when the tide turned against us. I misread Theodric’s statement as nothing flew from his hands but instead arrows rained down on us and Theodric fell unconscious. I could tell the two arrows that struck Ursa left him barely conscious. Origen took an arrow to the leg that drew a fair amount of blood. Things started to look grim for us and our enemies knew it. They heartened their efforts to fight us.
Origen dropped one of his blades, pulled out a curative potion, and poured it down Theodric’s throat. It did not wake Theodric but wounds on his body could be seen visibly closing. I offered my assistance with Theodric’s condition but Ursa turned me away insisting I would be of more use swinging my blade. I charged past him as he pulled a scroll and moved to Theodric’s body.
I engaged the largest cluster of bandits, now gathered at the base of the blind I had earlier blocked off. Origen re-readied his second sword and joined me. Behind us I could hear Theodric gasp for air as Ursa managed to resuscitate him.
After that we managed to get things under control and win fight. Two of their number surrendered to us, one was subdued.
I was able to resuscitate Major with the last of my magical essence for the day which left me drained and weary.
We tied up the three prisoners and proceeded to search the area and loot the belongings of the deceased. I was helping Ursa with the nearby cart when he reached under one of the bundles and then let out a howl of pain. A bear trap had clamped around his arm and his face went pale. I helped him out of the claw and sent him to rest and get the wound tended while I finished looking through and packing the items in the cart for transportation.
To avoid the possibilities of being confronted by Kressle bringing back reinforcements, we decided to move to where we had left our horses before talking to our prisoners.
I will say, what happens next is in no way heroic and I don’t even know that it was right but it was what was necessary to ensure the safety of the residents in the region. I hope that once the region is stabilized, the local government will develop an appropriate prison rehabilitation system where people can be given a second chance at life without putting others to undue risk, harm, or duress.
The bandits were clearly unrepentant and we had no way to convince them to cooperate. We asked about Svetlana’s ring and found that the bandits had been raided by some local Mites recently. As Mites like shiny things, it’s very possible they had taken the ring. Our entire group tried a number of ways to coax cooperation from the bandits as none of us had a desire to kill them, especially since they surrendered…
In the end, it was obvious we would have no end of trouble on our hands for letting them live so Ursa, Origen, and Theodric executed one each. I did not turn away, I did not leave, but I did lose my lunch after the fact. I did exactly what I told myself I would do. I GNOMED UP!
During the mixed rush of emotions that came during the interrogation we completely neglected to gather further information on the Mites location or their numbers.
Uncertain whether Svetlana’s ring was in the items we had liberated from the bandit’s camp we decided to follow the Mites’ tracks for a time until we found ourselves facing heavily barbed brambles that would likely harm us as we cleared so we noted the location and decided to turn back towards Oleg’s for the time being. I mentioned that we should see what supplies we recovered could be returned to their original owners, the group seemed to agree with that sentiment.
Wounded and tired we made our way north a short distance and set up camp for the night just as the sun finished setting. We have been so focused riding from one location to another that we have yet to get any real mapping done for our expedition.
Tonight the wolves were again howling and baying, an obvious sadness to their voice. Ursa and I realized we could understand them if we tapped into our natures and so we both did so. The wolves were mourning the death of their fallen member “Long-stride” who fell to a creature they called “Twitches-When-Dead”. We debated what that could mean and the only thing I can figure out at the moment would be undead. Perhaps we’ll find out more.
The wolves are extremely enraged as well. They have declared all trespassers of their territory will be ripped apart by their pack. This worries all of us as we don’t know what they consider to be their territory. Perhaps we can change their minds.
11th of Pharast, 4712
The howling through the night left us all exhausted except Ursa today. We decided to push on to the Oqerall’s farm rather than delaying as we did yesterday.
The idea was the travel near the forest line as we know the Oqerall’s live on its edge. After a few hours of travel, I caught sight of birds circling something in the distance, away from the forest. I pointed it out to Ursa but with how tired I was he was a tad skeptical at first until he looked for himself. We took a detour from our plans and headed for the site the birds were watching.
Upon arrival it was obvious there had been a terrible fight, shreds of animal bodies everywhere, and a massive amount of blood. The group spread out into the mess and looked around, I was the first to find a possible survivor, activated my ability to speak with him assured him I was there to help, then touched him with healing magic. He felt better and asked me why it was I would help him. I explained that it’s what our group does; we help those who need it. I told him our group had heard of his pack’s pain and wanted to befriend his pack. He didn’t know what the word friend was so Ursa used the word ally which he did seem to understand.
Apparently Ursa is able to speak with animals also. Ursa manifests his connection with the animal world when he does so though, unlike how I channel the magic. Ursa’s nose morphed to a hybrid of his dwarven nose and that of a bear muzzle, his beard darkened and thickened like roots from a tree, his hair took on a greenish hue.
Ursa’s ability to speak with those of the animal world was much shorter in duration than mine so I found myself continuing the conversation for the group. When asked if I was the leader of the pack, I answered yes and introduced Bessy as my fangs, how I bite my enemies. The wolf described a brutal battle with the creature they called “Twitches-When-Dead” which I realized was a troll! They destroyed the troll and thought they had done so of the pet as well but the pet rose several hours later. Unable to take on the pet on its own, the wolf fell and the pet fled. Unfortunately I could not decipher the nature of this creature based on the wolf’s description. I suggested that my group track down the troll’s pet and deal with it for his pack as a sign of good faith and alliance. He agreed and told us he would tell their leader Ghost of our desire to meet with the pack. Ghost and the pack will find us in the days to come.
The wolf now able to rejoin his pack after our assistance, I bid him farewell as my magical energies faded. I related the conversation with the wolf and the fact that I had volunteered us for a mission. Origen immediately started looking for tracks of the mysterious pet, Ursa and Theodric joined the effort and within a few minutes we were well on our way after the creature.
Theodric was the first to catch a glimpse of the creature moving in the distance and suggested we follow it. Uncomfortable with the idea, with many of us so fatigued as it was and unaware where the creature would lead us to, I suggested a similar tactic to our first group hunt. I suggested we split up, have some of the group range the creature and then we close in around it from all sides simultaneously. Our horses would allow us to overtake the creature’s speed as needed and with enough time to tie the horses off a safe distance from combat.
The plan worked flawlessly. We cornered the beast which turned out to be a Trollhound and we dispatched it. Theodric’s bomb lit it on fire which stopped it from regenerating my blade’s attack but I still made certain we burnt a bit more of its corpse than theoretically necessary. I did not want to see the corpse regenerate in our sack before we could show it as proof to the wolf pack of our actions.
A Trollhound, I’ve heard tales of these beasts but this is the first one I’ve ever personally seen. I’m a little worried it might have gotten me sick. I was bitten in the foot, it pierced my boot. It looks like no one else was wounded by the creature though. My wound itself was tended to so we’ll simply have to wait and see if I develop any disease from its slobber.
Back on track towards Oqerall’s farm Theodric startled a wild pig that then almost stampeded our horses. It managed to gore Theodric’s horse, causing Theodric to be thrown from his horse. Theodric’s bomb managed to scare off the pig before the rest of us could dismount and join the scuffle but not without its casualties. The bomb landed on Fitzy, his horse, and killed it! I am so grateful that Toffee is safe in the stables at Oleg’s. I really think Theodric needs to work on that throwing arm of his. His aim tends to be very inconsistent with those bombs.
Ursa cleaned and butchered the horse meat so Fitzy’s death wouldn’t be completely wasted.
When we finally arrived at the Oqerall’s farm right around sundown, Rej was out in the field cutting some firewood. He was a big man, strong and fit save for one of his legs which he dragged in a visible limp. He welcomed us into his home and assured us that nothing we liberated from the bandits would belong to his family. We all offered our various talents to pitch in around the house as payment for the hospitality. After getting the horses settled in I grabbed the bundle of horse meat and took it into the house where I offered it on the group’s behalf to Anda.
At the sight of me Anda asked me if I was one of the “people of the woods”, I admitted to my heritage but also stated I had been away far too long to feel right in claiming any local titles. My presence obviously made her uneasy. She was extraordinarily respectful and curious of me. She was extremely adamant at refusing the offer of horse meat.
Whenever she wasn’t actively paying attention to some task she spent her time watching me, generally from a distance.
The home showed signs of superstitious believers of the fey. I wonder what encounters she has had with the fey that make her so uneasy.
Rej used to be a lumberjack in the area, he moved into the cities within Brevoy after his leg was irreversibly injured. He spent some time in a slaughterhouse but didn’t like the job so moved back down into the area and built himself a home. A few years later he met Anda in the woods. Tayel came along within two years of their union.
When Ursa and I probed a bit further into Anda’s past she simply said she had been wandering the forest when she bumped into Rej. Nothing more…
Tayel isn’t one for strangers. He retreated into his bedroom at his earliest opportunity. Theodric went to keep him company after dinner, with his parents’ permission.
I spent some time playing Backgammon with Ursa where we had a few moments to discuss Anda’s strange behavior. He and I seem to be in consensus that Anda was likely lost in the first world for a time. Perhaps we’ll learn more as we spend more time with the family.
Execution Fields (A Scene Narrative by Barator)
“Zaktatticus, the sun is high,” the large Rostlander said to the gnome. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom looked up at Origen with sad eyes. He looked back at his new found friend across the table and a feeling of disgust rose in his stomach.
His high gnomish voice raised up, “Excuse me Nish, I need to talk to the others. Oleg, can you watch him for us?” With that Zaktatticus-Biddolbom stood up from the bench that he was sitting at, straightened his vest, and slowly walked towards the gate to the trading post. Already there were his companions, Ursa, Theodric, and Origen.
Zaktatticus looked across the faces of his companions and with a solemn gulp he began, “Sorry...I just have a bad taste in my mouth. Not from what we are doing...well it is from that, but it is a coppery taste...like the taste of blood. I guess it is a bad taste in my mouth because of the bad taste in my mouth over what we are doing...but I think we need to do it.” He rambled on a bit.
“Aye, we all get it lad, maybe not the specific way you have it, but none of us like this work,” the dwarf spoke up.
“It doesn't change what we must do though; we talked and found no easy way to bring these men to trial. It seems we are presented with two options, finding them to be repentant and let them go or to bring their banditry to an end,” Origen spoke to the group.
“Well, one way or the other, I don't think that we should be doing it inside. Did someone find a place to deal with this?” Zaktatticus asked.
Tall and lanky Theodric who had been paying attention to inventorying some items within his pockets jerked up to look the gnome, “I spoke with Oleg and looked around. On the west side there is a place that we can bury them, it seems like it would serve well enough for them to meet their end out there too.”
None of the four seemed exactly comfortable with what they were going to do.
Zaktatticus broke the silence, “Nish doesn't seem exactly repentant.”
Ursa broke in, “Aye lad, you can't fix lazy and stupid.”
Theodric spoke, “So how do we proceed?”
“Take them out and offer them one last chance to repent. If they do not, we finish this,” Origen responded.
“I haven't been exactly comfortable with that part of our charter since the beginning. I know it has to be done, I just don't think I can do that part,” Zaktatticus intimated.
“Aye, I ain't got much of a taste for it meself, Zaktatticus,” Ursa responded.
Theodric took measure of the words and responded, “I will.” He did not answer with any pleasure, simply a willingness to see their work to the end.
Origen walked over to one of the two unconscious men and shouldered the burden, “Then let us get out there and have this ended one way or another.” With that he began moving outside of the fort toward his parcel's fate. Ursa and Theodric gathered up the other unconscious body between them while Zaktatticus relieved Oleg from his duties watching Nish.
Once out on the execution field the men were roughly put on the ground and awoken looking at their captors. Origen spoke with the man whose life he had saved, “You all might want to pay attention to this. You, I have spared your life in hopes that you might repent from your banditry. But if not, our charter is to execute you. Do you wish to forsake your current occupation?”
The bandit under Origen's boot sneered at the offer with a spit and a curse. The Rostlander shook his head and looked to his gnomish companion, “Zaktatticus, you might want to turn away.”
Zaktatticus nodded, “I think I might want to step away, I don't think you are going to have much luck with any of the Stag Lord's men.”
As the two conferred the man under Origen's foot cried out at them, “All of you bastards need to realize, this is the River Kingdoms! We got bylaws down here, and one of them is you own what you hold. If you ain't strong enough to hold onto it, you just another f...” His speech cut short by the swift cut of Origen's large blade.
Nish watched Zaktatticus walk away, and as he heard his companion's life end began to panic. “Where did Zak go!?” he asked Ursa who was guarding him.
Origen moved to the next man in the line and asked, “Do you repent?”
He cried out, “I repent everything! I want to live!”
The three remaining of the charter company out of Restov looked at each other and asked, “If we let you go, what will you do with your life?”
The man on the ground took no time to think on it and replied, “I don't know, but I want to live, and whatever it was you said I wasn't supposed to do, I bet I will not do that again...I swear I will not do that again! Because I want to live!”
Theodric leaned down towards the man's face with an explosive that had witnessed to melt and burn a man apart earlier that day in his hand, “I will tell you this, I have traveled this land, and if I find you with another group I guarantee you will not get this chance a second time.” Theodric withdrew from the man on the ground and the three of them looked at each other and shrugged.
Their attention moved over to the last bandit who was in discussion over the good times he would have had with his new found friend Zaktatticus while Ursa attempted to convince him that their definitions did not coincide. As Origen and Theodric began to pay attention to the final of the three bandits, Nish stated to Ursa, “Oh, you don't like sex with women.”
Ursa shook his head and said, “So you won't stop being a bandit lad? Cuz we really want you to stop.”
Nish smiled, “I don't feel right lying to friends of Zak's, so I guess I want to, but I got no skills and I like hurting things.”
Ursa looked up at the other two and shook his head. Theodric notched an arrow into what was once Happs Bydon's bow, a bow that had laid him low that same day. He pulled back on the line and the wood pulled with him, straining against the taut line. Origen bowed his head and said, “I'm sorry,” to Nish, then Theodric's arrow flew piercing the admitted bandit, masochist, and desired rapist at the base of the skull, severing his spinal column.
Two of the bandits dead, the three men turned to the last remaining on the ground. Ursa started, “The problem is lad that we know you want to live and that you will say anything to get out of this...”
He was cut off by the quick agreement of the man on the ground, “Yes, I will say anything that you want me to say to get out of this.”
Ursa stopped a moment, and then started again, “So here is the problem, we don't want you to say things,” and he was suddenly interrupted again by the man on the ground, “Oh, I'll be quiet.” Ursa continued without stopping this time, “...we want you to mean it.” With this the man screwed up his face to try and provide a mean glare at the three standing in judgment over him. Ursa looked at him and shook his head, “No, no, no. We understand that you want to live, but we want to hear the truth. Is the truth that you will stop being such a jackass?”
He cried out immediately, “Ya, ya, I'll stop that.” Ursa asked, “Stop stealing?” and the man agreed. “Stop killing people?” and he asked, “You seen me kill someone?” Ursa bit his lip, “Are you going to make an honest man of yourself?” and the man responded to him, “I'm honest with myself, and I want to live!”
Seeing Ursa out of his depth, Origen stepped forward, “Alright sir, if we are to set you free we would like to have your name, the location of your camp, a map of the camp, and the names of everyone there. When we arrive we will tell them all that you have sent us there. So know that you will not be safe in these lands again.”
He looked at Origen with fear in his eyes, “So then they get to hunt me down?”
Origen shook his head, “We intend to deal with them.”
Theodric voiced up, “They will get the same choice you have.”
“So then they will get to kill me!?”
Ursa asked, “Is that what you would do lad?”
The man on the ground pondered the words for a moment, then answered, “No, of course not, cuz I just swore all of that stuff off!”
The three looked at each other, but seemed unwilling to add more blood to their hands this day. They took the information from the man on the groundand then watched him run off north. Theodric looked at his fellow judges, “We need a better system.”
They all nodded.
Oleg, who had watched the whole thing from the wall above, climbed down and gathered up a few shovels from inside the post. He walked outside to where the executions had been done, looking at the men he said, “Better we get them in the ground now then after they start stinking everything up.”
Session 2 (Saturday April 7th, 2012)
Attendance: Zaktatticus-Biddolbom Fanboddium, Theodric, Origen, Ursa Glynthar
NPCs Encountered: Huhl, Svetlana, Oleg, Thess, Nish,
B&Ms Encountered: Wild Dogs, Stag Lord Bandits, Haps
Locations: White Stag, Oleg’s Trading Post
-DING Level 2-
Special Note: John changed characters from Geruuk, an Oracle to Ursa Glynthar, a Bear Druid. The change is retroactive and explains any discrepancies in previous entries in his actions.
2st of Pharast, 4712
Yep, it seems poor Origen is sick. We’ll be spending a few days here while he recovers. There’re plenty of friends and repairs to be made here though so I’m sure I won’t be short entertainment. I helped Moose make some soup for Origen earlier, he even snuck in a big shot of that clear liquor we had upon arriving here in White Stag. Moose says that the liquor will give it a kick but only if you put it in after the soup’s done cooking.
Since we have a few days in White Stag I asked Origen about where I might have luck finding the white stag guardian of these lands. He pointed me towards an area just outside town and I went out to set up a picnic for the white stag hoping he would come so we could talk. I spent two hours waiting with no luck. I plan to repeat this for a few days and see if I have any luck.
On my way back to the Boozy Moose I saw Theodric and Ursa throwing a mush of herbs into the well water. I can only guess that they are hoping to counteract any damaging effects the stray bomb’s chemicals may have disseminated into the water supply.
The village’s children seem to have taken a liking to Ursa’s friend Major, though I’m uncertain how taken he is with them pulling at his fur or trying to ride him like a horse.
4th of Pharast, 4712
I’ve been setting up the offering to the white stag every day in the same place for the past three days. I stayed two hours each time but he has never deemed me worthy of his presence. I’m certain he was far more important things to do than socializing with me.
Around the well Theodric’s rallied many of the children of White Stag to creating a tribute shrine for the white stag as a show of appreciation; I think it’s quite sweet. Who knows, he might have just started a tradition. With enough belief the locals may even create a small holiday to pay respects to their land’s guardian.
Origen’s feeling much better now so we’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I think we’ve all made quite a few friends this trip and I hope time will permit us to come visit sooner rather than later. Moose and Jila collected some donations from various locals to replenish our rations and other supplies. What generous people these good folk are!
5th of Pharast, 4712
On our way out of town this morning Origen suggested a different location for a final offering to the white stag. It was along the path the stag ran as he chased off the last of the stragglers of the battle.
Our day was rather uneventful. To be honest though, I’m glad to be done telling the tale of “The Heroes of White Stag” and our individually glorious deeds during the defense. As I stated the first day, I would rather call the tale “The Defense of White Stag” as I found the most extraordinary actions to be the locals that defended their homes, families, and friends. Now that we’re gone, I can spread the news in the style I much prefer.
As we grow closer to the Greenbelt I find myself missing Ebbeline and my mother more. Though I haven’t seen either of them for many years I am feeling stronger emotions being confronted with the place I was dragged away from for my own good so long ago. Tomorrow afternoon we should officially cross into The Stolen Lands. If the weather holds I believe we should arrive at Oleg’s Trading Post by no later than the 8th.
8th of Pharast, 4712
I’ve suffered a bit of information overload today but here is my attempt and sorting through the notes I took as we went along.
Early this afternoon we stumbled on a pack of hungry feral dogs. They were hunting a man named Huhl who introduced himself as a local hunter who lived alone in a nearby shack. He told us that he had lost his wife and moved into the area years ago to live a modest life. We offered him any and all the dogs he wished to take with him but he only accepted one of the six corpses. Before parting ways with Huhl we exchanged some information about the local area. Much of what he related was later verified, but his personal story turned out to be untrue. I’ll get to that though.
While the rest of my colleagues got to work cleaning the animals I sat down, built a fire, and cooked up the innards of the beasts. Two of the remaining five dogs were only partially salvageable being that they had been heavily scorched by the chemicals in Theodric’s bombs. Major seemed very interested in an early meal but had to settle with just a snack. With a pot full of offal stew and the cleaned dog carcasses we packed our things and made our way to Oleg’s Trading Post well before nightfall. Oleg’s wife, Svetlana, welcomed us with open arms. Oleg asked if we were the guards that they had requested from Brevoy and was disappointed to hear that we weren’t. Apparently Oleg and his wife were chartered to reclaim and rebuild the old for they now reside in.
Oleg’s a bit gruff and rough around the edges, reminds me a lot of old Olrek. I wonder if Olrek’s still in the Greenbelt somewhere. Svetlana seemed nervous that we’d be offended by her husband, repeatedly apologizing for his gruff behavior and skeptical commentary. I think it’s the way he reminded me of Olrek that prevented me from being bothered. I think, like Olrek, beneath that tough exterior is a fiercely loyal and good man that would go to the ends of Golarion for his friends and family. I hope to be counted among Oleg’s friends someday. I think he’d be a good person to have at your backside.
Svetlana explained the rates of the trading post, five silver pieces per person each night in the bunkhouse, and two silver pieces per horse per night in the stables. For ease of accounting we decided to settle on running tabs. She then showed us the board where people posted various ads or letters.
1) An official decree from the government of Brevoy declaring a reward for any forces to cause a visible diminishment in banditry in the Greenbelt.
2) A post from Vekkel Benzen, an ex-local hunter who moved in with his sister after a brutal attack from a local “legendary” boar named Tuskgutter where he lost his leg. In the letter he states that his new life finds him well but he is quite bitter about what happened. Anyone who could slay the beast and bring him proof of this deed would be rewarded with his old hunting bow which he no longer had any use for.
a. Later during dinner we found out that had it not been for a stroke of luck that another hunter was nearby when Vekkel was attacked, his injury would have killed him. The local legends of Tuskgutter make it hard to distinguish what it is we’d be up against. At first I wondered if it maybe a dire boar but with the possible creative spins on his existence we’ll have to see for ourselves.
3) A letter by a local hunter named Sylus Bobbin posted a letter asking his friend Breeg if the rumor of his defection from hunting and trapping into the world of thievery was true.
4) Two posts about Fangberries, a local named Bokken wants fangberries for his brews. Svetlana posted a warning that any fangberries brought needed to be clean or the brews would suffer.
a. Svetlana explained that Bokken makes alchemical concoctions with the berries. My guess is to flavor the base so it doesn’t taste quite as awful since they have no medicinal or arcane qualities that I know of though it’s possible he discovered one. It goes without saying that Theodric is exceptionally interested in this matter. Luckily I believe I may know where we can find some fangberries to bring to this Bokken.
b. Svetlana also gave us a general pointing as to where Bokken lives, south east of the trading post.
During the tour Ursa noticed a bit of oddness to Svetlana’s behavior that he couldn’t put his finger on. He related that to us just as we were parting ways for a few hours. After a quick tour around the fort I offered to cook us all dinner while the others looked around the fort and got their bearings. Ursa stuck around the prep area and gave me a hand and Major stuck by eager for any scraps I could send his way. I even prepared a special bowl of raw meats for him so he’d have a nice meal with the rest of us. During prep I couldn’t help but catch an argument in the main house between Svetlana and Oleg. It seemed to be regarding the bandits and the ramifications of our group’s presence. I didn’t catch the details.
As the food was nearing its final preparations there was a call out from the gate as Origen escorted a man in by the name of Thess, a local trapper coming into the post to trade his furs. Luckily I had cooked far more food than was necessary and Thess, Oleg, Svetlana, Theodric, Ursa, and I sat down to dinner. I placed Major’s bowl on the ground near the table which he seemed quite eager to get into.
During dinner we all talked and I learned a lot about the area and its residents.
1) There are approximately twenty hunters in the area. All of them seem to pretty much have familiarity with one another to some degree. It’s strange though then that Thess, Oleg, and Svetlana had never heard of Huhl. That’s when it first occurred to me that Huhl was not what he declared himself to be. I suspected one of two options, either that he was either one of the bandits or he was a faerie lure. I brought this up to my colleagues after dinner, in private and expressed my interest to investigate. But we would not have that chance.
2) Jhorm’s Farm, a household of six, can be found south east about half way between Bokken’s and the trading post.
3) Oqerall’s Farm, run by just a husband, wife, and their son, is to the south near the edge of the woods.
4) There’s a man named Davik that runs a bridge along the Shrike, the bridge toll is a couple copper pieces. Apparently Origen was aware of Davik prior to this mentioning of him. Perhaps he knows more of Davik. I will have to ask him later.
5) There’s a watchtower along the north bank of the Shrike where the river turns on both sides of it. Locals steer clear of it believing that someone or something lives inside that it values its privacy.
6) The last subject of local current affairs we talked about was about the bandits, and it was cut short. What we did learn before Ursa suggested we changed the subject was that they generally raided as groups of 6-10 men and women but Svetlana had personally seen groups of 8 and 12. After Ursa’s perceptiveness earlier I trusted his instincts and dropped the subject.
I was then requested to tell a tale but had underestimated the damper the bandits had placed on the mood. I told a rendition of the Defense of White Stag, as a way of sharing news from a place nearby and hoping to bring up the mood around the table. Thess seemed quite taken by it though Origen insulted my telling of it insinuating self-adulation in the tale when my story focused greatly on the people of white stag and did not mention myself even once. He publically reprimanded me by telling me that it’s inappropriate for us to be people that sing our own praises. It’s the way the Kitharodian Academy and Ebbeline always taught me to do things but I guess it’s true that you can’t please everyone all the time.
Ursa seemed pleased with the story though he felt I should have spoken of my personal actions during the battle. I downplayed his statements a bit but tried to show him my appreciation of his notice and appreciation of me. He said some very kind words.
After dinner is when the entire evening really went pear shaped…
In the bunkhouse, Ursa informed us that he had changed the subject off banditry because he noticed Oleg staring daggers at his wife to shut her up. I excused myself from the group and said I wished to help with the dishes. We had made quite a mess with the large meal.
Outside I washed dishes by the well with Svetlana until we had a few moments alone. I pressed her about the bandits, it was obviously a touchy subject, but I didn’t know how better to approach the matter and it seemed any bit of information would be important.
She told me that they were expecting the bandits any day. Normally during the year the bandits come for a tribute of everything she and Oleg have once a month except during the winter but now that the weather was letting up and spring was fast approaching the two of them had been fearfully awaiting the next visit from the bandits. Svetlana remembered the name of a woman that led the bandits during on the visits but did not appear again. Her name was Kressle.
I couldn’t breathe, she was crying and I was having flashbacks. I did everything I could to calm her before excusing myself to the bunkhouse. I needed get our group out of here, if Oleg and Svetlana show signs of making trouble…if they were found to be harboring us or helping us in any way…I feared the worst. I could see flashes of the fire at The Nestling Hallow in my mind as I barged into the bunkhouse and informed my party we needed to be leaving at first light to track down Huhl…I didn’t realize Thess was settled inside. I realized I did see him go in earlier but my mind was elsewhere.
Thess excused himself to let us rest as we had an early day the next day but instead of going to bed I blurted everything out to the group. What Svetlana had told me, how much danger we had brought onto their doorstep. We jumbled through a few different options but all I could think of was finding a way to allow Oleg and Svetlana to disavow us so that they could continue living until we could deal with the bandits ourselves and stop their need for tributes.
My group disagreed with me and after a time I relented to the idea of talking to Oleg about what he thought. If he was anything like Olrek though I was pretty sure he was going to tell us he’d been waiting to fight. I could only think of what Oleg and Svetlana would look like burning alive. Before I could take another breath Oleg burst into the bunkhouse angry and demanding to know who it was that upset his wife. I admitted to my actions but together we managed to calm him down and explain the situation. It’s as I expected, he wanted us to fight the bandits and scare them off. He even wanted to hang the corpses of the dead bandits on the walls of the fort as a message.
The awful things he described, being beaten, his wife’s wedding ring being taken, and the threats the bandits made of raping his wife. They hadn’t done so yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time.
We set forth to design a plan around entrapping the bandits when they came for their tribute. I wanted to leave nothing to chance, no one to run and warn the others. I worried that if my research was correct and these bandits were part of the Stag Lord’s forces that there would be a small army to avenge their comrades against our actions. I can only pray that whatever we do against them will draw enough attention on us that Oleg and Svetlana will be left alone.
After about an hour of testing various parts of our plan, we settled on a solution that will hopefully keep Oleg and Svetlana out of harm’s way when the bandits attack.
Our final plan is as follows:
Oleg would sit out at the benches and tables as the bandits were approaching. He’ll call for Svetlana to come out of the house as expected by the bandits. Origen and Major would be behind the stables, I would be inside the stables; Ursa would be up on the ramparts, lying flat on his stomach to be our lookout. Theodric, our key component to the setup of the ambush would be dressed as Oleg and waiting inside the storage shed ready to swap places with Oleg. Svetlana would hide inside the stables, the most protected of the buildings by us.
To ensure an accurate count of bandits and prevent any escapes Ursa will signal Origen the number of incoming enemies which will then be related to me through a series of tapping on the stable wall, I will then flash my fingers out the doorway for Theodric to see through the peep hole of the storage shed long before my signal could possibly be spotted by the approaching enemies.
Once the bandits arrive, Oleg would get up and move into the storage shed to make ready the supplies for loading. Hiding his face, Theodric would take a pile of supplies out and make a loud noise signaling our ambush. Origen would run out to the gate, enlarged by one of Theodric’s concoctions. This is to prevent anyone of the bandits from retreating. Major would go with him to make doubly sure the gate is covered.
Ursa would jump up and assist where needed, invoking the life of the plants outside the fort to slow down any bandits that manage a retreat. Finally I would rush out of the stables, enlarged by another one of Theodric’s concoctions, Bessy in hand and back up Theodric’s position, hopefully in time for him to pull back to a safer vantage for his bomb throwing. We went through the motions, practicing our ambush to make sure there was no misunderstanding or a flaw. We checked everyone’s hiding places to make sure they would not be spotted by the bandits as the invaders entered the courtyard. We’re as ready as we can be.
…I woke from a horrible nightmare. The skin on my hands changed pigments like they were flames, a cold sweat soaked through my clothes.
I guess everyone is sufficiently exhausted from the day we’ve had though because I woke no one. I now find myself sitting at the dinner table outside the bunkhouse wondering if we’re doing the right thing.
In my dream, I was walking through the field where the dead guests and residents of The Nestling Hallow were being gathered, the charred corpses alongside stabbed and severed limbed bodies. I hear a scream being cut short as someone cuts her throat; somehow I recognize it as Svetlana’s. Then a man on fire runs for me and grabs me by my arms as he falls to his knees, his face already charred beyond the realm of the living. It’s Oleg screaming at me, blaming me for him and his wife’s deaths. He told me I should have known better, that I should have never let my colleagues and I stay at the trading post.
It’s too late to change our course now. I must hold to it and do my best. My skin is getting back to normal now, I’ll go wash up and go back to bed, and the sun will be up soon.
9th of Pharast, 4712
The bandits came for their tribute this morning, shortly after Thess left the fort. Oleg held up his end of the ruse perfectly. When Theodric came out, dropped the furs, and threw a bomb at the tightest cluster of bandits, shock rang through their ranks. In the mass of chaos and confusion several of the bandits were shocked into inaction as they tried to make sense of what was happening.
The bandit leader, whom we later learned was named Happs, pulled his bow and shot an arrow squarely into Theodric’s chest before I could charge out and cover him. I stepped over his slumped body praying he was still alive and fended off the three bandits closing in on him. Bessy cleaved through Happs in a single blow which made one of the two remaining scream “Oh my god! Happs, they killed Happs!” or something along those lines, as he turned to run away. The other dropped his blade. I commanded the one that dropped his blade to lay on his stomach as I turned to the screamer. Bessy stopped his retreat with another well aimed blow, cleaving this one completely in twain. One of the bandits made it out of the fort but was quickly chased down by Origen and his unconscious form dragged back.
In the chaos, I was too trusting. The man I commanded to lay on his stomach had grabbed up his knife and taken the unconscious Theodric hostage, demanding we release him if we wanted him to release our friend. I explained that what he was asking for was impossible and that if he wanted to live he would have to cooperate by giving us our friend back. I tried to explain logically, that if he killed our friend he would be killed on the spot so his best chance was to work with us. He didn’t seem to understand. Honestly, I didn’t realize until later just how dimwitted he is was.
Ursa looked at me like I was mad; it seemed he thought I should have tried a softer approach, appeasing the man with a knife to our friend’s throat. He tried to talk to the hostage taker more calmly, willing to negotiate but it seemed to also be getting us nowhere. As we pressed the situation, the man got visibly more agitated, the knife in his hand started to shake. That’s when I decided to try my backup plan and magically enthralled him.
The effects were immediate, he apologized for ever attacking me and was all too eager to please me by releasing my friend Theodric. You should have seen my colleagues’ faces; it’s as if they had just been stampeded by a pack of bulls. Ursa moved in to retrieve Theodric and tend to his wounds while I guided the man, now known to us as Nish, over to the picnic tables.
I should have killed him before he surrendered…
Nish turned out to be completely unredeemable, too lazy and stupid to do anything other than be a bandit, and too heartless to care about what’s right and wrong. He had the nerve to suggest I go with him to rape Svetlana. It took everything Ebbeline had ever taught me about keeping my composure to not cleave his head off with Bessy right then and there. To be honest, I’m surprised no one else killed him at that moment. I sure wouldn’t have stopped them. Even more surprising to me, Ursa actually stopped Oleg from smashing Nish’s head with a shovel. I almost cheered Oleg on but remembered there was more at stake. Nish could give us valuable information about the bandits. He did in fact…
Nish pulled a stag head pendant off his boss Happs and told us their “cell” of approximately twenty bandits, though his numbers could be quite off as he was obviously not good with math, answered to the Stag Lord through their local leader known as Kressle. He warned that she was truly heartless, soulless even. He said that his people believed that the Stag Lord’s demonic powers included taking the very soul of a person for him to eat.
Nish’s encampment is most of a day’s ride away but he expected Huhl would arrive approximately mid-day today! Curses flew through my mind…in all the chaos I had forgotten to ask about Huhl, a man we suspected to be one of the bandits. This meant Kressle would have warning of us even if the group we defeated wouldn’t be the ones delivering it.
With a map from Nish, I then proceed to try and get through to him as to the value of repentance and a better life. Unfortunately his nature seems rather stuck and our entire party agreed there would be no foreseeable way to change his ways our relative future. The decision is made that he must be executed as per our charter. I’m still suffering from the effects of last night and could not bring myself to attend the executions.
Nish and one other of the three living prisoners were executed; the third was released as my colleagues believed, though obviously not completely, that the man could have changed from his experience at the fort. I hope it’s true, if he came back and killed Oleg while we were out…well…let’s just say I regret not attending the executions and seeing for myself his very persuasive words. I should have stood my ground to ensure Oleg and Svetlana would not be harmed by our choices here today.
After all that’s happened, I’ve decided to make it my personal goal to retrieve Svetlana’s wedding ring. I think it’s the only real sign of hope that can help Oleg and Svetlana onto the road towards recovery. Both have suffered so much that they need to be shown there is still hope. Humans may not suffer the bleaching like we gnomes but I do know that when they lose hope and give up, they simply wither away and die.
At least Ursa’s convinced Oleg not to hang the dead off the outer walls of the fort. That would have been much unneeded attention.
Session 1 (Saturday March 31st, 2012)
Attendance: Zaktatticus-Biddolbom Fanboddium, Theodric, Origen, Ursa Glynthar(Vent)
NPCs Encountered: Nostra Norren, Vimir Fallfeld, Doriston, Zara Martas, Cantka Starsoul, Donnabella Aristen,
B&Ms Encountered: Numerian Barbarians
Locations: Lanky Lion, Rostland Roost, Nivakta’s Crossing, Fort Serenko, White Stag, Boozy Moose
As the night went our entire party mingled with the guests. Among others, I did notice that Origen stopped to speak with Vimir Fallfeld for a time. Theodric took time to get to know Doriston. As I moved past I caught that Doriston is a devout follower of The Master of The First Vault, Abadar; though I caught nothing else as I had no intention of eavesdropping on their conversation. Ursa seemed to take interest in Maegar Varn, the two spent a while conversing to one side of the room. Perhaps it is the fact that they were two of the more robustly built people at the party.
I myself took time to pay special attention to our guests that seemed out of place from the company that was available at the party. With Nostra Norren settled in the corner, I brought her a glass of wine and some food she hadn’t yet had a chance to try. While she welcomed me to sit with her, she did explain that she was used to quiet company. We talked for a few moments before I took my leave so as not to disturb her enjoyment of the party. I am many things but quiet is certainly far from any one of them.
Miss Martas on the other hand seemed quite talkative. I brought her some food and drink as well which she seemed to appreciatively decline. She insisted she had already had her fill of the available fare. She stood away from her expedition group because she was unfamiliar with them and had been commissioned by the Lord Mayor separately while the remainder of her group had interviewed and joined up as a team. Her ethnicity certainly looked of Chelaxian descent but it didn’t strike me until after she mentioned. I have to admit that it made me jump out of my skin just a bit as I have heard many things that can chill a person’s bones about the inner workings of Cheliax but talking to her gave me no sense she was like the monsters in those stories. It seems her motivation for joining the venture was a hope of bringing law to a lawless land. While I know a fair amount of human laws, understanding them has always come as a curiosity of mine as we gnomes need few laws to understand how one should behave. We simply are taught or are already born with the proper instincts of how to behave in society. I think this is possibly one of the many reasons why gnomes and humans sometimes have difficulties functioning side by side.
I am hoping to befriend Miss Martas so that I may learn more of her people, homeland, and gain some better understanding of the ways of law. One thing that I’ve been pondering since my conversation with her has been this idea of using law as a deterrent. Apparently if law breakers believe you’ll really cut off their heads if they break the law then they won’t do it. I find far too many problems with that entire theory. Maybe time and more experience will help me understand why that’s true. Personally I deplore unnecessary bloodshed but I’ve also seen first-hand that sometimes bloodshed simply can’t be avoided.
I did try and make a point of teaching the difference in understanding of concepts between gnomes and humans by explaining in part the game of Halluuk Gnome and how if one were to write out all the rules as it would have to be in order to teach a human how to play…it would likely take 16 volumes of my journal to accomplish but we gnomes simply intuit the ideas and rules through interaction with each other during the learning process and through actual play. I think this only served to confuse her further.
As the night came to a close Cantka stepped to the center of the room with her colleagues behind her and proposed a toast. She asked that everyone in attendance reflect on the journey that we all willingly volunteered for. She reminded us to take careful account of our actions as we moved forward with our ventures and to realize that while there may be those that we would be forced to fight, there will also be others that we can talk and build lasting relationships with, even those we may have to part companies with and simply create boundaries between. I raised a glass to toast her as did the majority of the remaining attendees. As people started to funnel out I wished them fond journeys and expressed my desire for them to have enjoyed the party that our group put together for them. Ursa raised his wine glass “Here’s to all our efforts to make this land better” and I saw many take one last sip from their drinks.
20th of Abadius, 4712
Afraid there was trouble I jumped of bed as a voice called my name excitedly, repetitively. I grabbed Bessy and rushed out of my room to see the cause of the commotion to find Donnabella bounding up the stairs of the Rostland Roost to get my attention. In her hand she held a few loose papers that flailed along with her movements. She told me she had found actual documentation proving a silver dragon lived in the Nomen Heights. While I’d heard of a silver dragon in the Stolen Lands before I thought it little more than legend as it had been reported since the days of the original Taldane Expeditions into the area. She had researched all night without sleep as she found interesting leads that jumped from one reference to the next. Bundled up in my sleeping clothes I rushed off with her to her room filled with books. Together we researched this further and I realized she has eaten and slept little in weeks. I plan to start bringing her meals so she won’t wither and waste away before her true adventure even begins.
This new information made me think that there might be some value finding some personal patience and rifling through the available books for information about the Greenbelt. Donnabella has kindly offered to allow me the use of her books for any research I wish to embark upon before our respective groups set out.
At dinner I told the others of my group Donnabella’s findings, the eye witness accounts, and evidence of the silver dragon being far more than a local legend. Ursa touted that he had known it was more than a simple legend while Theodric seemed to almost salivate at the idea of an encounter with the creature. I’m not entirely sure what to make of the look in his eyes. I know I hope to someday meet this silver dragon, I hear that while they are creatures that prefer solitude that they can be quite amiable to humanoids unlike some of their more aggressive counterparts such as the red or black dragons.
4th of Calistril, 4712
Merrymead was yesterday; I hope that this means the weather will lighten soon. The winter stocks are certainly getting more spartan around Restov. With any luck we’ll be setting off within the month.
My research with Donnabella led to some findings today. In the Greenbelt, there are temples dedicated to Old Deadeye that date back to the times of the Taldane Expeditions. When the expeditions failed, bandits rose up in the region capturing and basing themselves in these temples of Erastil. These bandits were rallied and organized under a common leader that people call the Antlered Beast. It’s believed this leader is a true demon that came straight out of the lower planes and is old enough to date all the way back to the Taldane Expeditions.
18th of Calistril, 4712
Tomorrow’s Loyalty Day for Cheliax. In an effort to further the bonds of friendship and understanding of Miss Martas, I plan to pay her a visit tomorrow with a present. I found a nice red scarf that a local woman recently finished knitting. She told me the dyes are from a local winter flower that when mashed creates a deep dye. I hope Miss Martas will like it; it does match her hair and is one of her national colors. The crafter of the scarf wanted more coin than I had but I managed to drive her down to my last available copper.
19th of Calistril, 4712
During breakfast today I informed Ursa, Origen, and Theodric my intention to visit Zara Martas today. Some of them seemed rather curious as what this holiday for Cheliax was all about so I explained a little of it to them. All of them wanted to go with me so I decided that the gift would be from all of us! I didn’t tell them of that of course. I thought it would be a nice surprise.
We interrupted Miss Martas in prayer, though she didn’t seem to mind when I pulled out the scarf and presented it to her. I expressed that the scarf was from all of us and hoped she liked it, and then continued to invite her out for celebration later today as people would do in Cheliax. She declined celebration, elucidating to the fact that she sees little to celebrate but feels the importance to pray to her lord, the Prince of Darkness, As…I’m not comfortable writing his name.
She invited us to partake or merely observe her prayers and afterwards she would have dinner with us. I was rather uncomfortable but curious nonetheless. Ursa’s bravery and interest to enter her room to observe and pay his respects emboldened my will and I followed. We all followed. I was so nervous…
With the door closed once more Miss Martas took off her robe and placed it on a hook by the door revealing her simple dress underneath and a holy symbol of The Dark Prince. It appeared she had placed on the robe to answer the door, likely as an effort to obscure the holy symbol around her neck.
I thought about imbuing myself with the ability to understand her prayers in that strange guttural language but after running that thought through a few times I decided it was probably inappropriate so I simply let the idea pass and listen to her prayers as if some kind of music. The guttural sounds make for quite an interesting beat.
I lost track of how long we were in the incense filled room listening to her prayers but eventually she stood from the chalk marked inverse pentagram on the floor (she wore a matching symbol around her neck), grabbed her new scarf, slipped on her robe, and declared her prayers concluded and was ready to go for the meal.
I don’t remember what or how I said things next but I tried to exchange a better understanding of Cheliax and her particular beliefs with her but she seemed to believe I did not understand her for what she was saying and somehow, possibly making things sound different in my mind. I think that maybe it’ll just take some time to understand better. At least I hope that’s the case.
She believes that the Hellknights have the wrong approach and sometimes can give people the wrong impression of her people. At least I THINK that’s one of the points she made.
I did make one point that we seemed to both agree upon, that without what Cheliax did when I was still a child, their nation’s chaos would have likely destroyed itself in its entirety. The meal was enjoyable.
As we parted ways for the night Ursa pulled me aside and thanked me for saying that the scarf was from our entire group. He handed me 5 silver pieces and insisted I take it despite my objections, so eventually I did the gracious thing and accepted. It was a nice gesture on his part.
25th of Calistril, 4712
The weather has broken enough that we were invited to the mayor’s home for dinner alongside the other expedition groups. After dinner each team was brought into his office in turn where the official expedition papers were finalized. On the way to dinner I remembered the information on the Greenbelt that I uncovered while researching with Donnabella and realized that I had not yet related it to my colleagues. I told them to remind me after the meeting with the mayor if I forgot to bring the subject up again.
In the mayor’s office we each received a copy of our charters that the mayor signed and sealed then each member of the party signed. It all seemed straight rather straight forward. At the end of the meeting he handed me a voucher for 1,000 gold pieces to be redeemed with the quartermaster tomorrow.
As we left the Lord Mayor’s home, I related the findings from my research with Donnabella. It seems Origen knows the demon by another name, “The Stag Lord”. We will soon see for ourselves the truth to these stories, I am certain.
26th of Calistril, 4712
The requisition process with the quartermaster took longer than I thought it would. We’ve managed to spend the entire day shuffling through available supplies and figuring out the necessities. While we packed our gear and readied ourselves to leave tomorrow I asked the group of a favor that I realized I should have asked earlier in the month.
I explained Ebbeline’s dying request and that I needed to find the old site of The Nestling Hallow so that I may lay the remainder of her ashes to rest. The group agreed that we could keep an eye out for it and make it one of our priorities.
27th of Calistril, 4712
Today’s trip was rather uneventful. The weather has held its general calm though the terrain is still rather tough to traverse. We are spending the night in Nivakta's Crossing, a small village acting as the gateway between Rostland and The Stolen Lands. Tomorrow we should be making camp inside the Stolen Lands.
Toffee and Felicity seem to be really bothered by the cold but unfortunately there is little I can do for them. Toffee insisted he had something important to tell me but my incantation wore off before I was able to find out what it was. I’ll ask him again tomorrow.
28th of Calistril, 4712
Again another uneventful day; Toffee didn’t remember the really important thing he needed to tell me. At least he enjoyed and Felicity seemed to enjoy the carrots I brought them. I really should ask Ursa and Origen if they would mind me socializing with their horses a bit. I helped Origen prepare the horses this morning. Origen seems to really know what he’s doing; he checked their horseshoes and ankles to make sure the tough terrain isn’t putting unneeded strain on them. I’m glad we have someone like that in the group; I wouldn’t want any of our animal friends to get hurt helping ease our burdens.
We’ve made it to Fort Serenko where we will be spending the night. The soldiers here are tired of staring into the snow every day and seemed to welcome a teller of tales to break up their general monotony. The sergeant on duty has a strange sense of humor about him but I think it’s a way for him to break up the monotony of a post so far from his home. He mentioned that they sometimes have trouble with bandit attacks in the area but it seems they are quite capable of holding their own against such incursions.
The weather seems to be turning. Origen worries that we might not make it to another safe shelter before tomorrow evening but we’re going to try. The sergeant here suggested we stop at White Stag, with the terrain it may be a little bit of a push but we should be able to make it by around nightfall if we make the effort.
29th of Calistril, 4712
The weather picked up while we were still several hours from White Stag. The wind chilled me to the bone; I can only imagine how much worse it is for our poor steeds who hated the cold even before this. Snow started an hour out of what we later learned to be White Stag.
As we found ourselves amidst a cluster of buildings, many of which were boarded up, we found ourselves a touch nervous. Near the well was a building that we could see lights peeking through the dark and sight obscuring weather. I walked up and knocked then waited. After a few minutes a large man opened the door and raised an eyebrow at us confused as to why we were standing out in the cold. He grabbed the reigns of our steeds and commented that the stables would be rather cramped tonight and stated two of the mounts would have to double up. I volunteered Toffee and Felicity as I noticed the two of them seemed to get along quite well.
He then practically yanked us into the shelter of what turned out to be the Boozy Moose. He was Moose, and Boozy was a stuffed moose center piece atop a large wooden stump in the middle of the room. Moose’s antlers are adorned with various things including women’s underwear and tin cups.
Moose was quick to offer us each small shots of clear alcoholic liquor. Clear like the purest water but it burned something fierce going down. The effects were almost instantaneous, warming me from the inside out. After a few modest refills we all seemed to leave the cold of the outside world behind. I asked Moose if the drink was something I could feed Toffee but he explained that inebriation is usually a bit harsher on a horse than it is on humanoids so I allowed the idea to pass without experimentation. I wouldn’t want to make Toffee, Felicity, or any of the other steeds sick.
The place had a very informal feeling to it. By the time we arrived nearly the entire village of White Stag had come to the Boozy Moose to seek shelter from the weather. Their homes are barricaded in hopes of minimizing any damage the storm tonight will bring. Jila, the local sheriff was a bit more cautious with our group’s arrival, she seemed skeptical of our charters but eventually she showed us her hospitality also.
As more people funneled in without knocking it became self-evident as to Moose’s strange looks when we first arrived and waited cold, but patiently for the door to be answered.
The level of informality makes the lodge itself feel like a home for anyone willing to contribute to it. I find myself quite comfortable here, I can understand these people more than those of the big politically driven cities I often visited with Ebbeline. There’s a stove that Moose explained was basically a “do-it-yourself” for usage though he asked that with so many people bedding down for the night in the lodge that only people with skill attempt their hand at the stove so as not to smoke the lodge up.
The White Stag’s oldest member, a man named Daymeth who was actually one of the founding members of the community told us of how the place grew out of a simple hunting lodge. He described how one morning when he was leaving the hunting lodge to go hunting nearby what is now the village well he saw the most beautiful white stag. While at first he thought of shooting it, the more he stared at the creature the more magnificent and sacred it seemed to him so he hadn’t the heart to harm it. Instead he found himself retreating to the hunting Lodge (Now the Boozy Moose) and contemplated on his life. He began to take care of the garden out back that local hunters would contribute to and after a time became a caretaker of the area. He settled down and decided that he would make his home here. People followed and after a time it became this small un-incorporated village known as White Stag.
Daymeth seems convinced that I am a human child, likely no more than eight years old the way he speaks to me. He seems to have a touch of senility about him but I find his eccentricity positively lively. I told a few stories to the crowd bedding down for the night, including one of King Florange and the Knights of the Long Table specifically for the kids. Though the adults also seemed quite fond of the light show I added with my spells. Ursa was kind enough to add to my show by taking on the role of the terrible monster plaguing the countryside.
By the time we settled in for the night, The Boozy Moose was supporting about 60 people all together. Luckily there was a second floor as well though both fires are down on the main floor. The doors and windows were sealed with extra bedding to shut out the cold and to be honest it wasn’t too bad with all the body heat.
Moose provided some blankets for the horses too, Toffee and Felicity had to share a stall, but I think that will only help them stay warm tonight.
Moose helped Ursa, Theodric, and I settle in upstairs, it’s a bit colder but we’re hearty enough folk. Moose always sleeps in the attic so he showed us a few tricks to keep us warm through the night up here like sealing up the draftiest parts of the room. Downstairs mainly has the children and the elderly. Though I think Jila, and Origen decided to stay down there too. At least if there’s any trouble there will be people able to respond. I’m sure they’ll get our attention if they need us.
Theodric came up rather late, I think he originally hoped to stay downstairs but it was likely too crowded.
I worry about Ursa; he thrashes at night rather violently. It’s a wonder how he gets any sleep. I hope things aren’t made worse for him in such tight quarters. The last lights are going out so I need to pack up my writing implements now.
1st of Pharast, 4712
Today has been a long day.
Those of us upstairs were woken up by a commotion downstairs about four in the morning. I still don’t know the specifics of everything that happened downstairs before Ursa, Theodric, and I ran down the stairs alarmed but…
Downstairs, there was a young boy probably about ten years of age. He was passed out from the cold and people said he was found slumped down and unconscious on a horse. Origen told me the townsfolk called the boy Hoslet, the son of farmers that lived a few miles outside of White Stag. Much of what followed came in a crazy blur. Hoslet explained that his home was attacked by many men, his mother had taken him out to the barn intending to ride to White Stag with him, but she was accosted moments before they made their escape. She only had enough time to send him to safety when she had to turn and give him enough time to escape.
Ursa, Theodric, Origen, and I started to gear up for battle immediately and gathering information as we buckled each other’s armor. I was one of the first to be ready, I have little to gear up in, and I’m too short to properly help Ursa with his.
No one had stabled Hoslet’s horse yet. I decided to go and speak with him as my ability to speak with animals seems to have refreshed during my short respite. Nersh, the horse, verified the boy’s story but had something interesting to add. Lost in the storm Nersh met a “white horse with horns”, which sounded like a white stag to me. The white stag led him to the Boozy Moose and told him he would be safe with the people inside. He warned Nersh not to return to the farm as there was much death and destruction there. I begged Nersh to show us the way to the house but he was unwilling, he was certain that there would be nothing for us there but death.
When I went inside to relate what Nersh had told me, I was met with some skepticism, particularly from Daymeth who called me a straight out liar. No matter, I had enough people believe me to get support later when it mattered.
All geared up, some of us (I admit I was one of the loudest voices on this fact, rather unwise considering what happened next) wanted to go out to the farm and look into the attack and save people if they were not yet dead. Jila and my colleagues talked sense into me, explaining that the large band of marauders were likely on their way to the Boozy Moose next. With all the people in danger I agreed that staying and fighting would be important, we needed to save as many lives as possible.
I made Jila promise that I could join in any rescue attempt or burial of Hoslet’s parents though with the emotional state I was in, it came out rather offensively at first. She thought I believed they would leave the people out there but I explained and it seemed to smooth things over.
Origen estimated that we’d have roughly two hours before the attackers arrived so we needed to make every minute count. What’s next came in a blur but I will attempt to recount as much of it with as much accuracy as my ink and pen will allow.
Origen placed me on one of the tables and told me to start rousing their spirits. I rallied as many people as I could to help us prepare and defend against the coming battle. Realizing that fighting inside the Boozy Moose was simply not possible, I asked my team if they would be against setting up outside. No one seemed to object so we got to work setting up defenses.
Ursa offered to craft some weapons for the volunteer farmers to work with, and teach them a few basics moves for the upcoming combat. We gathered anything that could use outside. Looking at the snow, my first thought was making the terrain work for us. I immediately asked if there was a way to turn the snow laden ground to slick ice. Luckily, our resident alchemist Theodric knew just the trick. He gathered as much salt as was available and set to work mixing it with water and turning each corridor between buildings into a slick sheet of ice that charging attackers would slip and fall from. I set my first group of volunteers into action building a barricade between our outer defenses and the Boozy Moose.
Mothers gathered the young children and took them downstairs into the basement. A few weapons were handed to them in case an attacker slipped past our ranks.
Origen sent out the hunters to scout but making sure they would return with ample time for the battle. I asked Origen to seek out the White Stag as I truly believed after my conversation with Nersh, that it is a guardian of this place. He showed faith in the veracity of my words and agreed. I worried about asking him to leave the defense preparations as we needed every able hand but I felt he was the best man for the job. I would not be disappointed.
Before Origen left he pulled aside two volunteers and asked them to string up pots, pans, and anything else that could clatter and make noise over each of the ice slicks.
The storm was still unrelenting but we managed to get a few light sources going inside the homes around the Boozy Moose, it wasn’t much but it was enough for us to work by.
After the barricades and the ice slicks were set up, I asked Theodric to overlook some trench digging which he agreed to do. I explained that the ditches didn’t have to be too deep, only about waist high, enough to slow down the marauders and give us time to shoot. The trenches were dug along the edges of the slicks, on the sides closest to us. I could just picture these invading barbarians slide across the ice and fall into the pit one after another as we worked.
I joined Ursa in training the men to use their weapons, demonstrating with Bessy for dramatic effect. They were surprisingly quick learners but I think every one of them felt the urgency and danger bearing down on us. Theodric really got into the spirit of it all, even pulling out his fishing net to string up over one of the smaller corridors between buildings.
I managed to sneak away for a quick water break where I took the opportunity to quickly pray for guidance and victory in our upcoming battles to The Lady of Dreams, The Lady of Beauty, and The White Stag Guardian. I remember little of my exact words but can only hope that it had some effect, regardless of how little.
Before we knew it we were out of time. A scout pulled in and declared the enemies to be minutes behind him. Theodric gave me a Shield elixir he had mixed, handed Origen the other and joined his unit. In our final moments of preparation Theodric suggested to the crowd that if they put any stock in the guardian spirit of White Stag that they pray to him for assistance.
We got into formation, the farmers up along the barricade with me. The hunters armed with bows were under Theodric’s command interspersed behind us. Ursa was feeling ill so we placed him with the older children who volunteered, as the last line of defense for the people in the Boozy Moose. Origen stood as support for wherever that battle needed him. Even Jila stepped up and covered the far flank from Origen.
Our plan held. We routed the barbarians more quickly than we could have possibly dreamed. A few of our volunteers were wounded but luckily no one died. These barbarians were truly savage. They had sharpened teeth that seemed as if they had intentionally filed them down. They used these teeth to bite at us after swinging their various weapons from blades to maces and even a few axes.
When his men started to route, the leader stepped out from the crowd and rallied a few stragglers to him, as the masses fought against each other Theodrick, Ursa, and I disengaged from our unit and engaged the leader’s smaller band. I popped the concoction Theodric gave me and downed it in a single gulp. Origen closed in towards us from the flank taking down one of the leader’s men single handedly before slipping on the ice and nearly falling into the well. I flinched as I heard his bastard swords clanging against the walls of the well on their way down. This didn’t seem to slow Origen’s resolve. He pulled himself out of the well, grabbed his new handaxe and his dagger, and flanked in with me against the foes. Theodric was throwing concoctions all over the field, flames burst out of various bottles as they crashed against surfaces. One even fell into the well, hitting the well’s stonework and exploding a jet of flame upwards.
Their bites hurt as they connected with me, their blades hurt more. I could see many of the blades and bites deflected by an invisible barrier in front of me. The results of the Shield spell I imbibed. I am certain that even with Ursa’s magical healing I would have likely not been standing, much less alive if Theodric hadn’t given me that foul tasting drink.
Eventually all of the invaders had either fled or perished against our collective might. As the last of them fled we all saw the white stag guardian chasing behind them menacingly. I swear I could hear it calling out “and don’t come back” but I’m sure that was my imagination. Moments later the storm broke and rays of sun filtered in between the clouds. I stood up on the barricade cheered our victory, declaring that even the forces of nature were proud of us and rewarded us with this reprieve from the cold. We went around congratulating each other, helping the wounded, and cleaning up after the battle as a whole which included burying our dead foes. I even mended a few damaged items and people’s weapon torn clothes.
The rest of the day was filled with requests for a tale the people of White Stag now dubbed “The Heroes of White Stag” while I tried to name it “The Defense of White Stag” as I kept trying to explain the team effort and how everyone’s contributions were essential. They would hear nothing of it so eventually I relented on the name though not the tale of how we collectively defeated the monstrous barbarian horde. If Halluuk Gnome teaches us anything, it’s that the collective smarts of many small ones can outwit and defeat even the most monstrous and deadly of foes.
Eventually we helped Origen down the well to retrieve his swords which caused him a fever a few hours later. I think he’s coming down with something; we may have to stay here a few days while he recovers.
Moose told our team of four that we’d have free drinks for life at the Boozy Moose. Daymeth commented that Moose gave free drinks to everyone to which Moose replied the difference was very specific. For us he’ll intentionally give free drinks while the other he just didn’t have the heart to charge. That gave me quite a chuckle and I truly appreciate the sentiment. Even Jila seems to like us now!
Session 0 (Saturday March 24th, 2012)
Attendance: Zaktatticus-Biddolbom Fanboddium, Theodric, Origen
NPCs Encountered: Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius of Restov, Mayor Ioseph’s Office Staff, Maegar Varn, Willas Gundarson, Donnabella Aristen, Doriston, Minor Nobleman Hannis Drelev, Minor Noblewoman Pavetta Stroon-Drelev, Terrion Numesti, Ameon Trask, Zara Martas, Cantka Starsoul, Thyllis Morrokorra, Nostra Norren, and Vimir Fallfeld.
B&Ms Encountered: Wild Boar
Locations: Restov, Lanky Lion (Tavern), Rostland Roost (Inn)
31st Neth, 4711
I seem to have found myself hurled into the town of Restov for shelter from the harsh winter snow and cold. I don’t think my dear Toffee will do too well traveling much more until the weather improves. To think I nearly lost Bessy in that snow storm…
Lost a fair amount of our gear in the last major snow storm so I’ll have to find some local work to replenish my supplies before we leave Restov. The Lanky Lion has kindly accepted my request to tell stories at their establishment while I’m here for a portion of my nightly earning. Furthermore, I have secured myself a room and a stable stall at the Rostland Roost. Tomorrow I’ll explore the town a bit and see if there’s anything exciting going on. I hear from some locals that the famed Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius might be making another speech. I think I’ll stop by and see what he has to say.
2nd Kuthona, 4711
I am SO hung over.
A large group gathered in town center yesterday to listen to the mayor’s speech. The mayor is attempting to recruit adventurous spirits to explore the Stolen Lands as a first step to reclaiming and resettling in those untamed lands. Not everyone in the audience was so enthusiastic from the notion of “starting trouble” or causing possible bloodshed in the months to come with such a venture but I jumped right onto the platform the mayor had used for his speech and explained to everyone the wonderful things that could come out of reshaping a renewed presence in the region. I recounted the settling of Restov by a Taldane expedition when the lands of Rostland were merely untamed wilderness. I pointed out the growth and community that grew out of such a venture. This seemed to hearten the spirits of everyone in attendance and I seemed to gain an instant fan club. I promised to continue telling tales all night at the Lanky Lion to those who would buy me a drink…should have said food and drink, I know better now…
Another local who seemed heartened by my words stepped up declaring the truth of my story, recounting how his own family was one of the founding families of the area and how he felt it was the duty of the citizens of Restov to continue the pioneering endeavors. I offered to buy him a drink, and later at the Lanky Lion learned his name is Origen. Quite befitting of his story!
As I was leaving the plaza I glimpsed the mayor’s staff partaking in the audience from their office windows.
By the time I got to the Lanky Lion, a crowd had already gathered to hear my tales and a large platter of drinks were already being sent to me. I offered to share my drinks but many insisted I had earned them and should drink them myself. After a while I realized I needed some food to soak up so much ale, mead, and the occasional hard liquor sent so I adjusted my request to the crowd that seemed all too eager to oblige. At some point I simply passed out…
This morning I awoke on the floor of the Lanky Lion, never making it back to my room at the Rostland Roost. I had enough food and drink around me to build a barricade wall. I took as much of the leftovers out to the streets and shared them with people I could find. They seemed appreciative, especially those that seemed a bit down on their luck. A few of them lined up hoping for the expedition job but I doubt they’ll be selected. Maybe when we’re able to build a settlement out in the Stolen Lands these men and women will have a place to go to start a better life.
I think I did fairly well at the interview itself, I was asked why I wanted to go on such an expedition and what my skills were. I explained that I thought such a venture was well worth the endeavor and explained that it is my sincere belief that there is a standing need for opportunities for a good life for many people, sometimes even bandits who turn to a life of crime only out of desperation. It is my hope to bring such opportunities to people by partaking in the first step of the founding of a new community. I related that my skills would be primarily the ability to rouse morale though I could fight with Bessy if the need arose.
Mayor Ioseph called me into his office before I left and thanked me for rousing the crowds to gain support for his venture. I assured him that I intended to do much more of it for the weeks to come and hoped that when the month of interviews concluded he would have as many able bodies as the city of Restov could provide.
I should look into what Restov plans for Winter Week festivities as we draw closer.
10th of Kuthona, 4711
The city of Restov came to life today for Winter Week, people are going from house to house stopping to eat and drink. I’ve already been invited into several homes and welcomed into many more for the coming week. The Lanky Lion and many of the other taverns have major discounts going on for people tavern hopping during this week of appreciation. I spent most of the day entertaining and continued injecting a tale or two from time to time to rouse interest in the exploration venture to come. Some have been quite surprised that a man of my height is interested in trekking through wilderness but I merely reminded them the wondrous tales I will return with.
16th of Kuthona, 4711
Today was the last day of Winter Week. People seemed as enthusiastic today as they were the first day of the celebrations. Some I dare say seem even more enthusiastic, trying to squeeze the last few moments out of this diversion from the cold weather and dark grey skies. There’s going to be quite a mess to clean up tomorrow. This week has been a great opportunity for me to make some new friends, learn some new things, and trade in some interesting stories.
31st of Kuthona, 4711
When I woke up this morning I found a message slipped under my door requesting my presence at the mayor’s office early this afternoon before things close down early for the Night of the Pale.
This afternoon I met with the mayor where he introduced the team of able bodied explorers that I would be accompanying into the Greenbelt once the weather lessened it’s intensity of cold and snow. My party of four included two men I remember meeting early last month, one at the mayor’s speech by the name of Origen who will be acting as our guide, and the other I met later at the Lanky Lion named Theodric, a student of alchemy. The last member of our new found group was a tall brutish looking man encased in metal armor from head to toe. He smelled as if he hadn’t been out of the armor for days. His name is Ursa, a warrior servant of the Iron Lord and capable of casting curative spells when necessary.
Mayor Ioseph suggested that we take the upcoming days or weeks, until the weather improves, getting to know one another's skills and personalities. I felt that part of that would be to have a bit of a bonding exercise where we could see each other in action away from the town. I suggested that we partake in a group hunt for a stag or boar which the group seemed rather positive about.
Ursa seemed concerned that his capabilities don’t lean him towards doing well on a hunt but Origen explained that he would not have to stalk the prey but merely be at the receiving end when the trap is sprung. Origen calls this “bag hunting” because it comes from when hunters chase small game into a sack another person is holding.
I then suggested that we could bring back the bagged game to be cooked at a party we could hold in honor of the expedition and invite the other teams so we can properly meet and maybe exchange some knowledge of what is to come. The group seemed to be quite excited at the second suggestion as well so I set out to put things into motion by coordinating with the mayor’s staff for a guest list and making arrangements at the Lanky Lion to hold the party. I made certain that the mayor and his staff were especially noted to be invited and welcome.
Origen asked to deliver the invitations to one of the groups himself, Maegar Varn’s Venture Company. It would seem he has a previously established rapport with one or more of their members.
Restov was quiet today as people prepared for their evenings in. The Lanky Lion was deserted tonight so I decided to retired to the Rostland Roost early tonight. When I got here Aurick Vesk was sitting downstairs by the fireplace, nursing a warm hot cider. I remember spending some time with him during Winter Week, his wife Emma insisted that I could grow tall and strong if I simply ate more of her cooking.
Aurick welcomed me to sit beside him and keep him company; he confided in me that he and his wife had lost their son in Pharast from a wasting disease. Their son, Jaisith, was 11 years old at the time. It had been a tough few months for Aurick and his wife since their son’s passing. I remember Emma referencing her son during Winter Week but she had made it sound as if he simply had left home for study or travel. Aurick didn’t have it in him to stay at home tonight as Night of the Pale woke spirits of the deceased and Emma believed her son was coming home tonight. Aurick’s choked up and thanked me for the company then asked to be left alone for the remainder of the evening. I hope things get better for Aurick and Emma. I’ll have to check in on them in the morning before we set off on our hunt.
1st of Abadius, 4712
It’s a brand new day, and a brand new year. I checked in on Aurick and Emma this morning, with some breakfast in hand and the two of them seem to be in much better spirits. After a quick visit I grabbed my bags and met my new acquaintances at the gates of Restov. Grief can be a terribly difficult thing to overcome. It is one thing to remember those you love who have passed but it is another to wallow in sadness and grief. Hearing Aurick’s tale last night reminded me of how my gammy suffered the bleaching after losing so many of our little community in the fire days before my 30th birthday. If I hadn’t had such supportive friends who taught me how to handle my grief I might have suffered a similar fate.
I look forward to meeting everyone when we get back, I hope they are all friendly and like the party we’ll be hosting. It’s hard to get a good hearty meal of good roast meat so deep into winter. I hope our hunt is successful or I’ll feel rather silly for wasting everyone’s time.
Tonight’s our first night as a group, farmer Rizic was kind enough to set up his barn for us to camp in for the night. We’ll likely have to travel several more days away from civilization before finding our query. I hope we’ll be able to find suitable camping sites once we’re a bit farther from town.
3rd of Abadius, 4712
We moved into areas where Origen believes we’ll start having the possibility of finding signs of a wild boar or stag. We stopped briefly to discuss our strategies with the upcoming hunt. I asked Origen what signals he wanted us to learn when he is scouting ahead for us and he taught us some basic signs for stop, down, hide, up, and different ways he may call our attention, beckon, and a few others. He then moved ahead of us staying between 150 to 200 feet ahead as he scouted. It’s exactly the sort of thing I wanted to hash out before our chartered adventure begins. We’re already learning how to best work with each other.
Unfortunately we found no signs of big game today but with Origen’s directions we were able to catch a few rabbits which we roasted for our dinner. We’ll try again tomorrow.
4th of Abadius, 4712
What luck! Origen found signs of a wild boar in the snow so we quickly conferred and set up our trap for the creature. Origen went ahead and found the creature’s exact whereabouts and then spooked it, herding it to us. Theodric moved into position for an attack as the boar moved past. I attempted to calm the creature to slow its pace but my lulling influence didn’t seem to take. Theodric let out two quick attacks at the boar as it approached which seemed to stop the beast in its tracks. Then before I could join the fight we all saw Ursa’s massive sword lift into the air and slice down through the boar’s neck like it was butter.
Under Origen’s guidance the four of us cleaned and readied the animal for travel back to town. Some of the innards were roasted over open flames for dinner tonight. Ursa got the heart because he was responsible for taking the creature’s life. This beast should make a good feast, it hadn’t lost too much of the weight it had put on for winter yet, I guess he’s been lucky with finding food. We’d estimate this boar weighing between 500 to 600 pounds; it will make for a mighty feast.
7th of Abadius, 4712
We arrived in Restov just before sundown. We delivered the boar to the Lanky Lion and I went to the mayor’s scribe to set in motion the delivery of the invitations for the feast tomorrow afternoon. Origen hand delivered a set of invitations to the Maegar Varn’s Venture Company. I better get some sleep. I have quite a day ahead of me tomorrow.
8th of Abadius, 4712
I would consider our little party quite a success, everyone involved in the upcoming venture showed up. The mayor seemed rather pleased with the festivities. He seems to think that I could make quite a living staying here in Restov entertaining the citizens if I decided to stay but I have my mind made up to go with my new found friends.
I will try and write down as much as I can remember about all the people I met tonight.
The first group to arrive was Maegar Varn’s Venture Company, led by no other than Maegar Varn himself. Willas Gundarson seems to be their healer and spiritual guide. I did not catch Willas’ particular patron faith. Donnabella Aristen is their source of knowledge, their cartographer, and likely chronicler. Origen suggested that Donnabella might be amicable to speaking with me regarding the tasks ahead so I took a little time during the party to exchange knowledge with her. It would seem that the VVC will be investigating the Nomen Heights, an area to the east of the Greenbelt. The entire group seemed quite appreciative of the feast, Maegar himself explicated how rare and special a feast with such a center piece is during the cold winter months.
The second group to arrive call themselves The Crusaders. They are led by Cankta Starsoul, where both our group and the VVC seemed rather motley and mismatched groupings of people, the memebers of The Crusaders were all very similar to each other and even moved as one entity. Cantka Starsoul, their leader, spoke on the group’s behalf introducing Thyllis Morrokorra, Nostra Norren, and Vimir Fallfeld. The way they functioned together reminded me of the stories of the many heads of a hydra. I bet if any opposition found them they could be just as deadly. She expressed her appreciation for the party invitation then followed up with some interesting information regarding the endeavors to come. The Crusaders have worked together for many years in Mendev in hopes to improve the quality of life for the general population. To bring order and law to a lawless land like the Stolen Lands would be quite a coup for the effort. Cankta and her group seemed optimistic of their upcoming journey into the Glenebon Uplands, the farthest west of the three territories to be chartered.
What struck me as strange is that once the group dispersed into the festivities Nostra Norren took to a quiet corner of the tavern and stayed to herself for the duration of the gathering.
The last of the groups to arrive was well past “fashionably late”. They are led by two minor nobles of the area Hannis Drelev and his wife Pavetta Stroon-Drelev. Though the four arrived as a group Pavetta positioned herself forward in preparation to be properly received by the hosts. As I stepped up to try and welcome her she threw her coat on me. I passed it off to one of the wait staff and didn’t let it rattle my composure as a proper host. She then referred to me as the help and treated me very rudely while she expressed how it was such an inconvenience to receive a party invitation the day of the party. She felt I needed to be reprimanded in my position as a scribe or servant. She wanted us to appreciate the “favor” she was doing us by showing her face in such a commoner’s gathering. She carried a small yapping dog as if an accessory similar to her oversized necklace or earrings. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the dog.
Her most severe act of rudeness came at the tasting of the boar. I believe this likely bothered many of the guests as after letting her dog piss on the tavern floor she then took a small taste of the boar, made a face of disgust then placed her platter in front of her dog. Unfortunately there was little I could do to manage the insult of everyone by her. I just hope none of the guests took it to heart.
No matter, I will not let her get me down. I’m sure she only acts that way because of how miserable she finds her life. Maybe some fresh air will improve her spirits.
On the brighter side of things, the remaining members of her group, the Iron Wraiths, were considerably more polite and even downright sociable! Hannis Drelev was polite and handed his coat to the proper person, he ate the food provided and seemed appreciative and cordial as he mingled and discussed their upcoming endeavor into the Hooktongue Slough to the west of the Greenbelt. Their specific focus will be to deal with the closing of the water based trade route that leads into the south of Brevoy. Three others accompanied the group, a red haired woman named Zara Martas who stood away from her exploration team, taking moderate interest in food, drink, and general socializing. Terrion Numesti, an older ex-military by the way he carried himself took a modest helping of food and drink while socializing with the attendees while his younger counterpart Ameon Trask piled his plate high with food and grabbed large multiple flagons of ale and reveled in what was being provided. Though this group’s dress and appearance may not be as motley as our group or Maegar Varn’s, their behavior certainly seems equally mixed.
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Hi All,
I am keeping an in character journal of my Saturday gaming group's campaign of the Kingmaker Adventure Path. My GM (who I know to be rather active on the Paizo message boards) strongly encouraged me to post them here for all to read. I hope you all enjoy!
Before I post the sessions I would like to introduce our cast of PCs. We have:
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom Fanboddium - Gnomish Bard (Wields a Fullblade that's sheathe is a quarterstaff...there's history in the item.)
Origen - Human Ranger, Two Weapon Fighter using Bastard Swords
Theodric - Human Alchemist.
Ursa Glynthar - Dwarven Bear Druid with a bear companion named Major. (First two sessions may seem odd in reference to him, this is because the player was playing a Half-Orc Oracle for the first two weeks but decided to change because he wasn't grocking his character.)
Lalla
PS> People are welcome to post responses or private message if they so choose!
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Zaktatticus-Biddolbom Fanboddium
Kingmaker Character History
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom Fanboddium was always a cheerful and hope-filled child. “Zatty” as many of his family and friends would call him, was born and raised in a small Thorpe community, The Nestling Hallow, of approximately two dozen permanent residents a few days trek into the Stolen Lands. His parents left him to be raised with Gam, the Thorpe’s respected leader, when he was still a toddler alongside a handful of other gnomish children of various gnomish lineages. The parents of the children would sometimes visit. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom’s own father, Wendelfax-Mindalfin, would visit several times a year while his mother, Evi, would visit rarely but neither would stay for more than a few days each trip. While some that hear such a tale may be disturbed at this parent child relationship, it is not a dynamic foreign or even looked down upon by gnomes.
Wendelfax-Mindalfin was a traveling merchant that frequented throughout Brevoy and its neighbors. Wendelfax-Mindalfin traded in many things, sometimes it would be weapons while other times grains. Even spices and cloths were not unknown merchandise to him. He was known as a fair and honest trader, as far as gnomes went at least. He never traded in shoddy wears or swindled anyone but did believe in the art of haggling and through that would often make more than his necessary profit. Often during his visits he would bring trinkets from his travels for residents of the Thorpe and would tell Zaktatticus-Biddolbom tales of his experiences or stories he had heard from traveling bards.
Evi was more the world scholar, traveling across Golarion to collect books and manuscripts. She delved into lost temples, bandit strongholds, and monster lairs. This kept her life exciting and her schedule busy. To keep in touch with her son, Evi resorted to less mundane means of communications. Primarily using the land of dreams to send messages to her son and sometimes even receiving through the same means. In these dreams she would tell her son of her latest finds or her most recent encounters with the strange and magnificent. Sometimes she would leave what she called a “dream beacon” that allowed Zaktatticus-Biddolbom to have enough control of his dreams to send a return message. Twice she even visited The Nestling Hallow via teleportation magic but she never explained why it was on those special occasions she did so and other times did not.
Gammy, as the children called her, cared greatly for the children as a grandmother would. There were other adult residents on the Thorpe, including two humans, an elf, and a dwarf. The dwarf, Olrek, traveled with a mercenary company that disbanded near the Thorpe during The Nestling Hallow’s early days. He found he had a knack for the life and took on the position of the Thorpe’s Sheriff. The gnomish residents cycled throughout the year, many would travel during their preferred seasons and return to the Thorpe for the remainder of the year. Over the years faces changed but the Thorpe remained full of life.
Other travelers would move through the area, sometimes staying to rest their weary legs for a few days or sometimes waylaid from their journey by an unexpected turn in the weather. One frequent visitor to The Nestling Hallow was a young human bard named Ebbeline Shaundrey. Over the many years and her frequent visits, Zaktatticus-Biddolbom and Ebbeline forged a strong friendship. Ebbeline promised that Zaktatticus-Biddolbom that when he was old enough to leave the Thorpe of his own accord that the two could travel the sites of the world together and if so inclined she would sponsor him for acceptance in the Kitharodian Academy, her personal alma-mater. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom would stay awake at nights dreaming of everything Ebbeline advertised of the academy and the sights to be seen in the world. It was nearly impossible for him to get any sleep during or days after Ebbeline’s visits. The lady of dreams would bless him with such strong and beautiful dreams and aspirations for his road ahead.
Being in the Stolen Lands came with its share of threats and the Thorpe was certainly no exception. Citizens of The Nestling Hallow would sometimes band together with neighboring steads to combat the problems that assaulted them. The results of such endeavors would vary in success but for nearly 80 years since its founding, The Nestling Hallow held its own.
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom’s 30th birthday was fast approaching, only days away, a birthday of special significance to gnomes as that is the day they become recognized as an adult and sent out into the world to carve their own way. The entire community was preparing for the upcoming festivities, gathering and preparing the food and drink, planning activities, and decorating the Thorpe. People were invited from far and near, many of the neighboring human steads planned to make an appearance as did many of Zaktatticus-Biddolbom’s friends like Ebbeline and the past residents of The Nestling Hallow. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom’s parents were both to attend; it would be the first time since Zaktatticus-Biddolbom was a toddler that the three would be reunited. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom could barely contain his excitement.
With only two days before his birthday Zaktatticus-Biddolbom sat up in his bed, with his journal in his lap, scribbling and contemplating his announcement as to what he planned to do with his newfound liberties. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom knew that he wanted to travel with Ebbeline and enroll at the Kitharodian Academy when their travels took them to Taldor. He hoped that the academy would see the same spark in him that Ebbeline saw the first time the two met while Zaktatticus-Biddolbom was playing “Halluuk Gnome”. She found his imagination that day mesmerizing and from that point on made it her special mission to spend time exchanging tales and art forms with Zaktatticus-Biddolbom whenever time availed itself. Zaktatticus allowed his mind to wander through his past as the night filled it’s sky with stars and a nearly full moon. The fall winds were chilling the air and as Zaktatticus reached to close the shutters he could smell the faint smell of smoke coming from the other buildings
Bandits attacked.
This act was believed to be in retaliation against those that resisted the bandits’ demands weeks prior to the attack. Guests had started to arrive for the party but most were still in route when the attack occurred. The primary target of the attack was the main house where Gam and the younger children of the Thorpe lived. Screams and shouts rang out throughout the compound. Residents and guests alike rushed out to meet their attackers, to fight. Gam was in one of the other houses talking with some of the guests when she heard the screaming from the young ones as the fire started to burn. While some fought to hold off the bandits, others fought their way towards the burning building with little success. Caught off guard, the residents and guests of The Nestling Hallow waned in their morale the more destruction rained upon them by their ambushers.
Then a shimmer of hope rode out of the distance, a gnomish woman dressed in colorful robes laden with bundles of various sorts walking alongside a young human woman with long auburn hair pulled back in a loose ponytail carrying a gnarled wooden quarterstaff. The gnomish woman let out a volley of lightning bolts that sizzled and burned the invaders and lit up the skies. The other woman pulled a greatsword from the staff and stabbed the hollow wooden stick down into the ground with a sharp stab to hold it in place. She raised her greatsword, charged into the fray while her voice boomed over the sounds of combat and rallied the defenders, and renewed their collective cause.
With their new reinforcements, the people of The Nestling Hallow were able to drive off the incursion. It was then that people realized their reinforcements had been Evi and Ebbeline whom had encountered each other several days out and decided to complete their trek to the Thorpe together. The victory, however, was bittersweet. Many had died; residents and guests alike. Wendelfax-Mindalfin was among the dead. Of the two dozen young children settled in for the night inside Gam’s main house, only two survived. Those who came for a birthday celebration instead would find themselves attending a wake.
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom suffered smoke inhalation, minor burns, and combat injuries fighting his way into houses in hopes of saving any survivors. He was one of the lucky ones, he survived. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom slipped between anger and depression during the next few weeks while his wounds were being tended to by healers and even two visiting clerics.
Evi and Ebbeline took to counseling with each other as to how they could go about preventing Zaktatticus-Biddolbom from falling victim to bleaching or down a tainted path. Both Evi and Ebbeline had seen many grief stricken men and women become mislead into worlds of hatred and darkness, creating pain and misery for others. It was decided that Ebbeline would take Zaktatticus-Biddolbom away as she had always planned and agreed to do. She would teach him ways to cope with the world with its many dangers and would show him the path of Shelyn, The Lady of Beauty.
After years of dreaming of leaving, Zaktatticus-Biddolbom suddenly found a reason to stay. He wanted revenge for what was done to him, his family, and his friends. It took some convincing but Evi and Ebbeline eventually tore him away and redirected his mind to better things.
Ebbeline spent years teaching Zaktatticus-Biddolbom the ways of The Lady of Beauty. She taught Zaktatticus-Biddolbom better ways to approach the world than using the lenses of anger and hatred. When she felt he was ready, she sponsored him for study in the Kitharodian Academy where he exceled in his studies to be a traveling bard. He always thought of Ebbeline as his personal muse.
Over the years Zaktatticus-Biddolbom and Ebbeline would visit Gammy from time to time but not at The Nestling Hallow. Though the survivors attempted to keep The Nestling Hallow running for some time after the major attack, things just weren’t the same. Gammy slipped into the Bleaching unable to bring herself to experience new things after the grief of so many she spent her life caring for died. The gnomes sent her to live in a gnomish city, Thistlewark, south of the Stolen Lands where she could be properly cared for. Eventually with Gam gone, word was that the residents abandoned The Nestling Hallow and went their separate ways.
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom and Ebbeline spent a great deal of time traveling together over the years. The two performed together and embarked on many adventures together but being human the years were much harsher on Ebbeline than they were on Zaktatticus-Biddolbom and eventually she had to retire and settle down in modest home far from where the two had begun their journey.
As her old age set in Ebbeline grew sick. Weeks before she passed, she sent word to Zaktatticus-Biddolbom of her urgent need to see him one last time. Unfortunately Zaktatticus-Biddolbom arrived too late, missing her passing by only days. Ebbeline’s two sons and three daughters welcomed Zaktatticus-Biddolbom into their home, calling him Zatty as their mother would. The oldest, Ebbeline’s son Farrick, insisted that Zaktatticus-Biddolbom reside with them during his stay and forbid Zaktatticus-Biddolbom to stay at the local inn.
Zaktatticus-Biddolbom stayed with the family for two weeks where he was able to meet Ebbeline’s grandchildren for the first time. All the children reminded Zaktatticus-Biddolbom of his dearest longtime friend since childhood. While some had Ebbeline’s eyes, others had her hair, and chin, he saw a definite resemblance in their chins. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom was the 6th pole bearer of Ebbeline’s casket and was granted a few moments to speak as to her character and the life she lived.
In Ebbeline’s will, amongst the possessions she bestowed her family, were gifts to her friend Zatty. Her favored weapon in life, a hollowed quarterstaff with a greatsword disguised inside. During their adventures Ebbeline had spent time teaching Zatty how to wield this very special weapon, he would call it a “greatersword”; he remembered the times they shared fondly. She also gifted him her holy symbol to protect him from the ugly things in the world, and finally she asked that he take possession and care for Toffee, the youngest mare sired by Krix, a descendent of the last mare she rode in her journeys with Zaktatticus-Biddolbom.
Ebbeline’s final request was that in death she be able to find peace in the places she had spent so much time appreciating in life. She asked that as his final act he would travel the places the two of them had adventured once more and scatter bits of her ashes as he went. She specified very clearly that the final place needed to be The Nestling Hallow, by the graves of the dead of those that died when he was 30 years old. Zaktatticus-Biddolbom agreed. With a final farewell to her family and friends she signed and sealed her will.
And so began the next chapter of Zaktatticus-Biddolbom “Zatty” Fanboddium’s life.
The Burning of The Nestling Hallow (A Scene Narrative by Barator)
The sun rises in the east, peaking its head over mountains in the distance; its rays streaming down past the cold and icy peaks of the Tors of Levenies. These blustery and cold crags rise up on the southern banks of the Shrike and reach for the sky. The height that these peaks reach is astounding considering the flat lands that they emerge from in the north.
After passing over the mountains, the beams of light grace the hills and kettles of the Kamelands, a section of land filled with rough rolling slopes climbing on one side of the rise erratically while leveling off on the other smoothly. These hills were the home to one time Taldan colonists, and before that burial site of barbarian kings, but always they have hosted their true lords the wilds upon their sides.
The rays follow the slopes of the hills reaching out towards the plumes of darkness that rise from a grouping of buildings perched at the top of a kame and shading under the massive beech, oak, and pine trees of the northern Narlmarches.
A small figure rests himself one hill away from the buildings, sitting on a rock under a large oak tree and looking into the rays of the oncoming sun. This figure wears bedclothes that have seen far more use than their intended purpose. Both the young figure and his garments are smeared with soot and parts of both are burned. The figure looks out at the sun, tears welling up in his eyes and riding along lines separating his overly large nose from the rest of his face. He wrings his hands as he mumbles a rhyme to himself, never blinking as the sun stretches beyond the mountains.
A woman approaches from behind the young figure, climbing the hill that separates the young figure from the destruction of the farm house behind him. She too is marred by the ravages of the fire, but also approaches with a limp due recent wounds she has suffered to her leg. She offsets the limp by leaning against a thin but gnarled staff that once grew in an awkward fashion of doubling back upon itself to provide loops and protected handholds; the bandages that have been used to stop the bleeding match the color and pattern of her bright clothing and may account for her missing sleeves. The beautiful young woman steps into the sunlight as she walks closer to the young figure, her golden hair illuminated by the sun's radiance. She walks up behind the young figure that has paid her no notice to this point and clears her throat.
“Zaktatticus-Biddolbom,” she starts, looking down at the gnomish figure in front of her. The pain on her face is clear as she takes in the tear stained figure in front of her, but she smiles with healthy warmth while looking upon him. “It is best if you come back with me...”
“Why!?” the gnome interrupts her. “It burned to the ground, its gone. Why should we bother going back!? They took it away from us, why should we go back?” He doesn't turn to look at her, but continues starring into the sun no longer wringing his hands but instead clenching them together.
“It is safer with company Zaktatticus-Biddolbom, but if you wish we can stay here for a time...together,” the last word of her statement was clearly not a request. The two figures watched the sun rise for a time as the land brightened, neither looking behind them at the burned out building on the kame behind them. Zaktatticus watched the sun rise intently, refusing to turn away from its brilliance, intent on the promise of a new day, the golden haired woman watched Zaktatticus.
When the sun was well clear of the mountains in the distance and shown upon all of the land of the Greenbelt the woman moved again, approaching the rock that the gnome sat upon. She rested herself gently on the rock, laying her staff across her lap. Zaktatticus finally looked away from the sun for a moment, blinking away the spots that he saw as he took in her presence, and then he looked back to the blinding light of the sun.
Silence reigned, but the young gnome began to absently touch the staff that sat across the woman's lap, gripping one of the loops and thumbing the grain of the wood absently. “Why did they come? Why did they burn my home?” he asked through choked back tears.
The woman closed her eyes for a moment, pulling herself out of the situation she was presented with before answering. “Gam was brave enough to stand against them, to tell them that they were not welcome. Not only that, she got other people to say it as well,” she paused for a moment.
Zaktatticus took the momentary pause to speak again, “So it is better if we don't speak up against them? Gammy made a mistake to get people together like this?”
The woman sighed to herself and continued her answer to him, “No, it is not better to allow others to take advantage of us and others. It was brave of Gam to stand up to the men like that. She did not think that it would turn out this way.” Zaktatticus moved closer to the woman, leaning against her, but his hand did not leave the loop that it was holding, he continued to stroke the staff with his thumb.
“Ebbeline,” he started, turning his attention to the woman that sat next to him. “I turn thirty tomorrow. I wanted to go away with you to see the world that you have told me about. I don't want that anymore. I want to make them pay for what they did.” He gripped the staff roughly in his grasp and sat up to look at her, “They need to pay for those who died. The others were so little, maybe I could have gotten them out if I started to do that at first. I didn't realize it was a fire that was started when I smelled the smoke...if only I had started them moving out they would still be here with us...But I didn't. Now I need to make things right, I need to make those men pay for it.”
The woman, Ebbeline, looked at the fervor that her gnomish companion spoke with shock and horror. “That is not the way that we should react to something such as this,” she said, but was interrupted by Zaktatticus.
“That is exactly how we should react to this. It was wrong of them to kill so many, to attack us in our homes. We did not ask anything of them except to be left alone. That was too much for them. They have shown that they are unable to leave people alone, why should we leave them alone!? I don't think that they deserve a place in this world. Maybe they will regret leaving me alive while my siblings died in the fire. Last night I wondered at what I wished to do when I reached 30, and they gave me fire to help me answer. Now I know!”
Ebbeline continued to look at Zaktatticus in horror, and finally gripped the staff on her lap herself and said something in a strange language. With that Zaktatticus slumped against her, snoring loudly.
“Gam, he cannot stay here any longer,” Ebbeline stated to the old gnomish woman sitting at the table. “You know the way of your people, they are prone to becoming the emotions that they feel, to seek experiences that resonate with a path that they have taken. It is far more true of gnomes than of humans. I fear that he will turn dark...darker than even your faerie ancestors.” Ebbeline looked to the sleeping form of Zaktatticus as she spoke. He had been bundled back to The Nestling Hallow by Ebbeline and lay snoring in a corner of the bunkhouse that he, Gam, and Gargormijlilyvootiun were to stay in now that the house had burned.
The gnomish matron shifted her gaze from the darkness outside and looked at her charge sleeping. She smiled and cried to see her baby that was hours away from being considered grown. Her blue and pink hair was a matted mess, and Gam had never had time to clean herself after the fire last night. She turned to look at the golden haired human, “Ebbie, I can't let him go. The rest of them are gone, it is only Zaktatticus and Gargormijlilyvootiun left...I can't let my baby go. He needs me to protect him,” she pleaded.
Ebbeline looked at her longtime friend, “You need to let him go, this place will only scar him. Tomorrow he has the right to do as he pleases, and you don't want him to do that!” She raised her voice and the building shook as she stamped her foot. Looking around her and at the sleeping form of Zaktatticus she quieted again. “Gam, come with us. I will bring you all with me and we can find a safer place for you to live...”
Gam cut her off, “I can't leave. This is my home and it has been my home for more years than you care to count Ebbeline. I won't leave just because some people never learned to get along with others. I can't leave.” While Gam was filled with emotion at the start of her statement, she had no ability to sustain it and her close only weakly escaped her lips as she put her head down on the table.
Ebbeline walked to Gam and kneeled in front of the old gnome sitting in a human sized chair. “If you are unable to leave this place Gam, do not ask Zaktatticus-Biddolbom to share your same fate. You know that he will do it without a thought, but he deserves more than this life would give him. He has so much potential in him, don't ask him to stay here where he will darken on the inside just as the soot has done to his skin. Give him the freedom of this place, so that he may find a world of wonder.”
Evi spoke up, having been quietly tending to her son until this point. “Gam, let him go. Ebbeline is right that this place will be too much for him. My son deserves more of a chance than what remains here will give him.”
Gam raised her head up from the table to look at the two women confronting her, “But he is special.” She pleaded one last time with them.
Together they answered, “That is why he has to leave.”
With that Gam slumped down again, too tired from the recent events at The Nestling Hallow to fight any longer.
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