Hi guys! Been running Kingmaker for a while now and doing a campaign journal on our own website and I figured I'd share it with you guys. First, an introduction to the characters!
Erich Orlovsky - LN Human Rogue - From a noble house in Brevoy, left on unfriendly terms with his family. Seeks to claim his own stake, undermine house Orlovsky.
Aeryn'ethil - CG Elf Wizard - Background unknown to myself at this time. Gruff and thinks all humans are bumpkins and dirt-farmers (20 Int, so most people seem simple to him. Hilarious character, sort of a comic relief in most games.
Arthon - ? Human Fighter - Background unknown to myself. Strong, silent type. Sword and shield two-weapon fighter.
Alexander Reinholdt - LG Human Paladin - My character, from which you will get the most "play by play" journal. Other character's journals are more "reflection" pieces. Greatsword wielding. I won't go into much detail here as you'll see in my background what motivates him. Played "loosely" LG, as to not conflict with the party so much. More "Avenger" type than "Educate the bandits in the wrongs of their ways and give them a chance"
<taken from the journal of Erich Orlovsky>
My life isn’t one that many people would consider “hard”. I never had to break my back just to eat, or work slave like hours just to have clothes on my back. No, I had the relative luck of being born into a family of wealth and power. I was born the third in line of the Orlovsky House within the Brevoy region. Not first, not second but third. In a land where slavery is outlawed being the third son of a house patriarch is about as close as you can get. From an early age I was taught that my sole purpose in life was to serve both brother and house in any way possible. It mattered not that I came to surpass both my brothers in all matters both academic and martial. Due simply to a misfortune of being born at a later date I was to serve my brothers until I was put into the ground. For a while I was content with simply knowing that I was better, it was almost enough to do what I was told with the knowledge that one day I would have the means to one day prove my superiority, that one day I would be recognized for my greatness and be made the patriarch of my house.
As many old men could tell you, the problem with “one day” is that more often than not, that “one day” never comes, at least not in the way that you would ever have wanted it to. “One day” after a training session with my father’s sergeant at arms, my brothers cornered me in the empty armory. Apparently my lofty expressions and condescending demeanor had not escaped the limited observational skills of my brothers. Not pleased by my attitude, they decided that it was time a received an attitude adjustment. Apparently an attitude adjustment in our house consists of trying to kill someone, because my brothers beat me almost to death and might have if it weren’t for an unsuspecting man-at-arms returning to the armory to end his shift. I was sixteen, and despite my cries for mercy the only remorse I ever saw in my brothers eyes were when they had to stop their attack.
My near death experience was an eye opener. Not in the spiritual sense, nor any kind of religious one. The eye opener was that if I stayed around I would eventually be killed. Upon recovering from my wounds, of which the rest of my family took no notice (they must have agreed with my brothers “attitude adjustment”) I reapplied myself to my lessons in earnest, first with my brothers, and then when they began to notice my renewed vigor, then in private so as to not arouse suspicion. I used my family wealth to hire private tutors, academic and martial. The reputation of my tutors varied as much as the subjects they taught. I managed to retain the services of a few of my town’s less reputable citizens to teach me how to tickle locks, pick pockets, lie though my teeth, hit people where it hurt, move silently, and most of all never get caught. My father’s senior councilor trained me in the customs and courtesies of all surrounding houses, tribes, and regions in order to “serve” as a better envoy on behalf of my family. I even managed to hire a hedge druid to train me to identify and use the various poisonous plants in the area.
For three years I kept my head low and nodded at all the familiar braying of my family, while simultaneously attempting to avoid and occasionally receiving beatings at the hands of my brothers. All the while I was plotting my next move. It wasn’t until I turned nineteen that I decided that enough was enough. Having had been put in contact with the sellsword lords of Rostland, I volunteered to be a part of one of their “covert” teams meant to stabilize the stolen lands. I volunteered with the express caveat that should I be successful in my endeavor, that whatever power I wrestle from that savage land, I would use to undermine, debase, and destroy house Orlovsky. I waited almost two years before receiving “acceptance” into one of their expeditionary teams. That very night I put the next part of my plan into effect. Sneaking into my brothers rooms, one after the other, I first drugged them, then I removed their right thumbs with a (rather dull) knife. I’m still not sure why I chose the thumb, mostly because I wanted them to have a constant throbbing reminder of me, partially because I never wanted them to ever be able to beat me again, and maybe just a little bit so that I could have memento’s of my family as I began my journey, the bones from their thumbs make awfully nice buttons for my vest.
If you take anything from this brief account of my life to date, it should be this. I am patient, I am driven, and I am perseverant. I don’t consider myself a bad person, those who are my friends are my rewarded with the same trust they extend me. But those who would make themselves my enemies, will be destroyed, without remorse or hesitation by any and every means available.
From here on out i no longer identify myself as an Orlovsky, except when it benefits me. The name itself holds no emotional hold over me. From here on out I will carry no last name until I can find one that fits better.
<read from the journal of Arnold Monlova, senior information gatherer for house Orlovsky>
I have been following Erich Orlovsky’s trail for a week now, and believe myself to have caught up with the young lord. I have to admit; when I received the assignment to track Erich I did not believe it would take even this long. The young lad always seemed so unassuming. He certainly had a smug air about him, but I long attributed that to the natural loftiness of being highly born.
I certainly never though him capable of such a calculated and brutal blow as which he delivered to his two brothers not but seven days ago. The poison he used to render them immobile did nothing to dull their pain, even with my extensive knowledge of poisons I had to send out for a local druid to help identify the substance that was used. The druid quickly identified the poison (perhaps to quickly? Did he help the lad in some way? Something to pursue upon my return) and produced a counter agent to stop the bleeding and help the two boys in their recovery. It didn’t take long to discover the large amount of money young Erich stole from the house’s vault either. The evidence was as clear as day, and serves to further solidifiy my theory that this is nothing more than a rebellious, vengeful act of a pampered highborn runt. It shouldn’t take long for me to return him to Skywatch to face judgment and execution at the hands of his father. The Orlovsky’s have worked too hard to create a name for themselves as a House that is not to be trifled with, and what better way to exemplify that than with the example of retribution that Erich will serve as.
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<Transcribed from witness statements gathered by Orlovsky field agents.>
<Location: Local tavern of a small mining village not far from Stone Climb>
"Hello Arnold. I have to admit I didn’t think father would send you. I don’t know if should be pleased they sent someone of such esteemed ability, or if you should be offended they wasted talents like yours tracking down someone as lowly as me. "
"Well Erich, you know how important family is to your father. And as for how “lowly” you are, it took someone with my “esteemed abilities” almost a week to track you down here, and the fact that you don’t even seem startled would tell me that you know I was coming. "
"I will be honest with you, I have been waiting for you. I knew my father would sent agents after me, and although I didn’t expect it to be you, I certainly knew someone would eventually catch up to me, it had always been a part of my plan to sit and talk with that someone.
You knew someone would be pursuing you and yet you stopped and let us catch you? It seems that you have not thought out this plan of yours very thoroughly Lord Orlovsky. "
"Please do not call me that, I am no more a lord that you are, especially now that I have renounced my family in such a dramatic fashion. As for my plan, my next step was fairly simple. I had planned on using the money I stole from the family coffers to bribe the pursuing agent into simply letting me go. This part of my plan has not changed. I’m sure you are well aware of the amount I stole, just as I know how little it is my family pays for your invaluable services. I care not what you do with the money, and I honestly care not if you return to my family. The gold is simply to ensure that whatever you do, you let it be known that Erich Orlovsky is dead, as I assure you that person is. "
"Do you take me for some lowly thug? Some honor-less cretin that snivels around the likes of you highborn’s for a handout of money? No sir. I assure YOU, that I am none of those things. I do the things that I do because I am good at them. I earn my way in this world the best way I know how and I will not compromise my name, nor my own self-worth for all the money in the world, much the thousand or so gold you have niggardly stolen from your own family to cover up your own cruelty and cowardice. I will take you back to your father, that is a fact, and I will do so with pleasure. Do not thing to run, I will catch you, do not thing to fight me either, you will find that I am no drugged unconscious brother who you can maim without repercussion. Try me and I will beat you senseless before I take you back and watch you die at the hands of your father’s executioner. "
"Arnold, calm yourself please, you are making a scene in front of my new friends at this fine establishment. I did not mean to offend with my offer of money, and as for your physical prowess I have no doubt in it, I am not yet your equal in the world of physical conflict. As for my father wanting me dead, I hope you didn’t think that would faze me. I have known his indifference in regards to my life since I was little, and I can only imagine me maiming his two favored sons has only shifted his perception towards hatred. The offer of money was more for your benefit than mine, I truly do not want this to come to bloodshed.
My benefit was it? What possible bloodshed could you hope to avoid other than your own? "
…(Erich says nothing)
"Wait. What did you mean when you said “your new friends”. Erich, what have you done? "
"Not everyone in this world is so attached to their moral compass that they will not bend it for a large sum of money. I have been stealing from my family for years Arnold. The sum you found after my departure was only because I had to put my plan into effect early. Most of that money went to several large men for the express purpose of making sure that if you turned down my generous offer that you would not get up from this table without several holes in your back. I gave you a choice Arnold, I do not like that you chose the wrong option, but I did not make the choice for you. "
"Mercy Erich. Please, have mercy and do not do this. "
"The same mercy that you or my father would have extended me? I think not. I am going to get up from this table now Mr. Monlova, I have an appointment to keep regarding the next step in my plan. And I cannot be late for it."
Journal entry (My only escape)
So it is my fate to be sent to the human lands is it? I suppose it was inevitable. I have become an annoyance for the lofty nobles in my class. How could they of such higher breeding, and worth be overcome in there study’s by such a lowly one as I? Enough of it, they shall not bitter my own accomplishments. Let them send me away, I revel in it. It just means they truly realize there own inferiority. Removing the threat as it was. The human lands hold promise for me though, indeed they might be a far sight more entertaining then my so called peers. I must confess that I have never met any of the young races I shall have to learn manor isms as I go. That fool of a caretaker might think he will be rid of me but I have more talent in my index finger then in his entire being. They shall hear from me again, and the next time I might be quite a bit harder to get out of their hair. Ah the door, let us see what facade the caretaker has come up with to disturb me this time...
Journal entry (The more intelligent thing to be written by this entire class)
Imbeciles! I grow ever more chaffed by there idiocy! The world knows of our grace and intellect, a myth I assure you! Unwilling to bend and adapt this school is nothing but a pair of shackles. My magic is my own and I shall not bend it to YOUR whims. Ah, but I have let myself slip too much. I am to leave soon to the north. The caretaker has told me I am being dismissed in order to let me realize why we have such customs in place. I must admit I am somewhat eager to go and experience world for myself and let my gift grow as it should. I don't need this school and I intend to prove. I am not limited by my station but my ability, and I am going to show weighted by my merits I outstrip them all!
<An excerpt from the journal of Alexander Reinholdt>
Abadus 13,
I have been instructed to keep records of my campaign in these coming months. I left the place I have come to know as home about a ten-day ago, and already it pains me to think of those I left behind, though I will not show the other squires with me my heartache, for certainly it would be seen as a sign of cowardice. We have been sent on a pilgrimage, of sorts, to learn what it is to be a member of our order. I know I can prove my worth. I know I am ready. I have been training my entire life for the battles to come against those who forsake Him. Since before I could talk I have learned the art of the blade. My masters have always seen to it that I live according to His word and have kept me on the path of righteousness. My companions bid me to eat with them, so I shall continue later.
Abadus 15,
The priest that has been sent with us to guide us in His word, Father Faelish, gave a passionate sermon on sacrifice. It pains me to think that there are many in the world who selfishly horde a mountain of wealth while others struggle under the weight of poverty. What evil corrupts this world, what pain and suffering are allowed – nay, encouraged – because of the greed of some men. Father Faelish says that we seek to end this suffering… I pray to Him that he is right.
Calistril 2,
Tonight we observe our enemies from afar. Their savagery knows no bounds. They recite prayers and conduct rituals to their dark gods as they gorge themselves over the carcasses of their fresh kills. Have they no shame? I shake with righteous anger as I watch, I know I must temper these feelings; I know I must be calm and collected as I send them to their judgment when the dawn breaks. May He that watches over us grant us strength.
Calistril 3,
The battle has left me weary but the taste of our victory will allow me to persevere. Our Most Holy knights descended upon the blasphemers as the dawn crested the distant mountains. We caught the foes unaware. Though it seems an unfair battle, long has our duty been to hunt the wicked, we cannot falter in administering justice. We must remain ever vigilant.
We took the time to mark our passage, to strike fear into the hearts of the Evil Ones in the region of Zenonia. The blood of my enemies still stains my hands. Gruesome work, but our holy word must be spread. We must always work towards His word, for if not us that fights this evil, who shall?
Calistril 21,
The wind makes an eerie howling as it comes off the eastern slopes of Rostov, at least, I hope it is merely the wind and not some wicked spell cast by the enemies of my order. Surely it is nothing sinister, but the eve of battle is often when doubts and paranoia creep in on even the most devout souls. May my faith grant me strength to fight these enemies.
Our priest has warned us of the difficulty we face tomorrow. I am fearful but excited; fearful of failing my god, excited to bring these unholy ones to justice. These enemies we face are different from the usual thugs, they are trained, heartless killers. These are hardy men of arms; they have prevented many of our good works in the past and have slain many of my brothers. I begin to feel what can only be described as “purpose” welling in my heart. This is my final test before full knighthood into my Order.
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The horses of the Most Holy knights stamped impatiently as dawn broke in the eastern sky. On the minds of every young man was the thought of facing a foe prepared for their coming, battle hardened, and ready to die for their goddess. Armor creaked as leather straps were tightened, swords rang as they were drawn from their scabbards. A sweat formed on the brow of many of the Most Holy, but not a one showed any sign of fear.
The defenders, on full alert, began to hear the thunderous hoof beats of the Most Holy. Bowstrings were drawn to cheeks, and as the riders crested the hill the hiss of arrows broke the calm of the morning air. Several riders fell from their horses as the defenders notched another arrow, trained professionals all, they knew - two volleys, then to melee. A second volley was loosed, a battle order was given, and the disciplined warriors formed a line against the coming tide.
The two groups clashed, blood staining the previously unspoiled earth. The defenders responded with practiced haste and gained an early advantage over the riders. As the sun reached its zenith, only a few of the riders remained. The defending men began to surround the last few who were futilely fighting on. One rider with raven black hair struggled to break free of the pack but was dragged from his horses and bound by many men. The battle was all but lost for the Most Holy knights.
The raven haired youth sputtered curses as he was dragged in front of the defender who had been giving the battle commands. The youth spat at him, “Out of my presence evil one! I’ll not hear your lies! Curse your Goddess! I will kill you all, this I swear“ The defenders forced the youth to his knees, a blade pressed to his throat silenced further remarks .One of the defenders holding the youth, his silver armor glistened with blood, bowed before the commander, "Sir Keldorn, should we kill him? Is he to be of the Redeemed?"
Sir Keldorn sighed. Had it truly come to this? This was but a youth. The boy knew nothing of what he had become. He gazed towards the heavens, as if seeking Her guidance.
The grip on the knife at the youth's neck tightened and a thin line of blood was drawn at his neck. He pressed his neck further into the blade and screamed, "Kill me! I'll seek you out in the Undeath! Do what you will vile -" One of the defenders holding the man interrupted, “Quiet Blackguard! We’ll hear no more of this!” A blow from the hilt of one of the knights silenced the youth.
“Sir Keldorn, may I remind you that these are the men that crucified the children of Zenonia. Some were still alive when we came, and begged for the release of death. They deserve neither forgiveness nor redemption. Surely, Golarion would be a better place if we were to execute them on the spot.”
Removing his helmet, he replied, “Nay, Sir Amodus, it is not the Way of the Paladins of Iomedae nor our place to execute those that are defenseless, no matter how heinous their crimes. He is only a boy… if he survives the Searing, then he is to be a Redeemed.” Sir Keldorn raised a hand to silence the many protests, he stared at the unconscious youth, and “Iomedae forgive this boy, for he knows not what he does. Bind him, we march to Rostland. It is finished.”
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<An excerpt from the journal of Sir Keldorn Firecam> [heh, BG2 fans?]
Pharast 7,
The boy we captured near Zenonia has survived the Searing. So corrupted was his mind that I did not think it possible. Iomedae must have a great plan for the boy. Iomedae willing, he will remember nothing of his former life. He has endured a great deal of pain to make it so. He is a remarkable swordsman, even with the effects of the Searing. It is truly sickening to think that this boy, among many others, was captured at such an early age and brainwashed with the lies of Urazra. They have known only battle, brutality and suffering their entire lives. Have I done the right thing in bringing this boy in? Is one so corrupt deserving of forgiveness for the things he has done? Iomedae light the way.
Culwyn 19, [A few months later]
He will find no peace here, before we captured him, he slew many of my brotherhood. I have seen the way that the others in the Order look at him. As is customary, I will send him away. The Sword Lords of Rostland wish to chart newly explored land. This will get him away from the accusing stares and suspicious looks that he questions routinely as well as give him a chance to do some real good in this world. He must not learn of his dark past. We have taught him the beginnings of The Way of Iomedae, he must now discover the truth of The Way.
[In my little flavor of Paladins I came up with "the searing" - a chance at the most evil of people to have a chance to do good. A quick erasing of memories, a little indoctrination, and presto: Paladin.]
Rova 20,
I have been sent on my first quest for the Order of Iomedae, I am to explore the “Stolen Lands”- specifically the Greenbelt area - for the Swordlords of Restov. I met up with my companions before setting out. They seem a… colorful… lot. Not what I was expecting perhaps, more of a collection of drifters or runaways than an expedition. Erich (who won’t give a surname) carries himself with a balance of a man who knows his way around a fight. Another, Aeryn’ethil, an elf, is quick with his wit and seems to have the intelligence to match. He seems unaccustomed to friendship, or human society in general. I am told we are to meet another man-at-arms in the outpost we are heading to – Oleg’s Trading Post.
Rova 25,
We have arrived at Oleg’s Trading Post after an uneventful journey. Again, not exactly what I had envisioned on my first quest for the Order. A steady rap of a hammer greeted us as a squat few buildings surrounded by a wall of timber appeared in the distance. Upon walking in the gate, we met with a woman named Svetlana. After a brief introduction, the man that was making repairs to the roof of the buildings came to greet us.
This man introduced himself as Oleg, he seems a man that bears the weight of many troubles. He told us of a bandit raid that was supposed to take place the very next day. How unfortunate for them. These ruffians prey on the hard-working people in this outpost. Oleg lives alone here with his wife, scraping a living out of the land around him. They have requested help from Rostov for years and no help has ever been sent to him – until now. I assured him that Iomedae had granted him salvation from the extortion of the thugs.
After some discussion with my companions we decided to block the pathways between the buildings. I will engage these men and force their surrender. Should they not accept I will be in a sore position, but Aeryn assures me that no harm will fall upon me.
I talked with Oleg late into the night and discovered a few things of note about the region that I will perhaps need to remember later:
-A man named Bokkan lives to the east about 12-15 miles, Oleg describes him as “essentric” but says he makes fine potions
-A trapper named Breeg Orlivanch was became very reckless with his traps and perhaps has turned to banditry
-The bandit attacks began about six months ago
-If we can recover a ring that was stolen from Svetlana he will be very grateful, and offers 50 gold pieces if we take care of the bandit problem
No sign of the man-at-arms that was supposed to join our group, with all the talk of banditry, I hope some misfortune didn’t encounter him in his travels to this outpost.
Rova 26,
The dawn was crisp and cool, my breath frosted in the still morning air. When a boisterous call to Oleg asked him to open the gate, I crouched behind a wagon where the bandits would likely pass. I checked that my great sword was clear of its scabbard, looked to Erich, who was hiding on a rooftop, who gave me a confident grin and a wink, and then to Aeryn, who nodded from his position on the meager parapets.
The bandit’s tone irritated me. I seethed as he made lewd comments about Svetlana, and hoped she was hiding as planned and was out of earshot of these scoundrels. The first bandit passed without a glance my way, so confident was he in his petty theft. I stepped from behind my cover and the bandits tensed. I focused on these men, as I had been trained, their wicked aura was apparent to me. I ordered them to halt, that they would no longer take from these good people. Despite the loud one’s boisterous talk, I felt I could intimidate this man.
My jaw clenched as I told them to leave at once, or face judgement at the hands of Iomedae. I caught the first glimpse of fear in their eyes as they began to depart, I knew if these men weren’t dealt with here and now that we would see them again, on less favorable terms. I ordered them to stay away from Oleg’s outpost, knowing that this would force confrontation.
They paused, turning around and reaching for weapons as Erich’s arrow flew from the shadows of the building and shot the leader in the leg. His gasp was drowned out by the sound of swords being drawn. A muttered word and gesture from Aeryn quickly took the fight out of all but one of the bandits. I turned to face the man behind me as an acidic dart and an arrow flew past me and into him, I had barely drawn my sword as the last man fell. Perhaps this rag-tag group was more than meets the eye.
We bound the magically sleeping men and searched them for items of consequence. I saw a silver emblem resembling a stag on the leader, I ripped this from his cloak and threw it to my more educated companions, but they too, were unable to identify its source. We roused the leader and began questioning the man. He said the emblem was from the Stag Lord, the leader of the bandits in the area. He couldn’t tell me much about him but I was able to find out that there were about ten ruffians in his camp, their approximate location, and their leader’s name – Kestral.
With no way to imprison these men, these thieves’ judgment fell to me. After conferring with Oleg, I dragged them to the ramparts to be hanged for their crimes. The first two men died peacefully, still magically sleeping as they fell from the wall. The bandit leader begged for his life like a coward and kicked at me when I offered to recite final graces of Iomedae. Iomedae forgive his soul. I was exhilarated to send these men to their judgment. It seemed almost… familiar… to me somehow.
With so much turmoil, our exploration charter could wait. We set off to take care of Oleg’s bandit troubles once and for all. We rode to south, keeping the edge of the forest to our right as we made for the Thorn River. We were joined along the way by our man-at-arms, who said little. I focused upon the man and though he showed no aura of evil I still don’t trust the man. Too quiet for my tastes.
Erich scouted ahead of the party, and though he was very alert we were taken unawares by a giant spider hiding among the rocks. Before I could react the spider had wrapped Erich and his mount in a web. I rode to the beast but my not-quite-faithful steed neighed and almost threw me. How I wish the order had given me a trained warhorse, or perhaps some better equipment. I dismounted near the beast as Erich slipped free of his webs and moved to a better position. An acid dart sped by the spider and didn’t seem to connect, and as a net of webs wrapped over me Erich fired an arrow into the beast. The man-at-arms rode to my side as I burst free from the webs and drew my great sword. Another acid dart flew wide of the spider and I heard Aeryn behind me curse the wind. Though I was fighting for my life, I almost felt Erich smirk, ‘I seem to be having no troubles.’ I kept the beast at length with futile swings of my great sword as my companions finished off the beast from afar.
We rode until sunset and made camp, intending to find the bandit camp the next day
Rova 27,
In the morning, I found my bootlaces tied together… curious. Inner party pranks perhaps? Or perhaps some sort of Fey in the area? Aeryn also had his belt on backwards, so I’m ruling him out. The man-at-arms however… he was strangely quiet last night at camp and was playing a game of cards. I still don’t trust the man.
We made it to the thorn river with no further problems and decided since our less-than-couragous horses had let us down before we decided to proceed on foot. Along a path a woman and a few ruff looking men confronted us. I demanded they surrender their arms and they sprang an ambush. What seemed a dozen arrows flew from the shrubbery around us but we easily dodged their clumsy shot. I trusted Aeryn and Erich to take care of the archers as I approached what I assumed was Kestral and her lackey’s at a fjord in the river. I dispatched the two in front of me with ease – they were no match for a Paladin of Iomedae. Kestral, however, had time to throw a dagger through the break in my armor while I was dealing with these foes. I called upon the helping hand of Iomedae to lay waste to this skilled enemy. She granted me Her favor, and with the help of the man-at-arms we dispatched her, when I turned to assist with the archers I found them either dead or asleep.
I executed one of the two living men and woke the other for questioning. His story confirmed much of what we had already heard; the Stag Lord ruled the bandits in the area and was further to the south. He also told us the bandit lord liked to drink and that the expensive bottle of liquor we found in the camp was supposed to be delivered to him. This man seemed helpful and repentant of his crimes… I spared this man, perhaps he could be redeemed. We are now taking this man to Oleg’s trading post, along with some stolen furs we recovered…
Third person account, written by my DM, about the events at Oleg's Trading Post
Oleg wiped the sweat from his brow with his maimed hand. The last of the furs and trinkets were loaded onto the small wagon, ready to be sent to Restov. The trip would be a long one, and without any help, Oleg would be forced to go himself or send his wife. Neither prospect appealed to him.
Oleg's resigned sigh caught his wife's attention. She smiled at him over the latest fur pile, a tuft of hair sticking to a forehead just as damp as her husband's.
"At least we have something to send to Restov, this time." She said. Kissing her palm, she blew her love towards her husband.
Stoic as ever, Oleg just grunted in return. However, when Svetlana turned her back, he could not help but break into a smile and reach up to snatch the kiss from the air.
The loading was complete, but the work was endless. Stronger doors were necessary if the trading post was to survive another bandit incursion. Stronger doors and guards.
Damn those swordlords, for all their promises of help and talk of glory to be had on the frontier.
Oleg cursed the leaders of Restov for not sending a few men of the city guard to help protect a loyal citizen, cursed the city guard for not patrolling the southern road, cursed the gods of the swordlords for not giving them more sense of responsibility and cursed their dogs, probably just to keep the streak alive.
The sun was nearing western horizon by the time the first strong door was secure in its mounts, a fact Oleg tested by straddling the door while he placed the last few nails on its reinforcing bar. Oleg had run out of steam. His hand throbbed and his back ached.
Placing both hands at the small of his back he leaned back and stretched his tired body. His eyes closed against the sudden glare of the dying sun peaking from behind a cloud, and he eagerly soaked up the warming rays. It was a good stretch. When you get as old as Oleg, you grow to appreciate good stretches.
But the stretch was forgotten as soon as his eyes slid open. On the eastern horizon, a small dust plume made its way lazily into the sky.
Riders approaching.
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EXCERPT FROM THE JOURNAL OF SVETLANA LEVETON
Happy times are here! At last my husband's dreams will come to fruition! All thanks to those wonderful travelers. Oh I do hope they are careful in the Greenbelt. There has been talk of a Tatzlwyrm spotted nearby. Oleg has it in his head to pay a trapper or adventurer to slay the Wyrm and bring him the head to mount over his desk.
Men! Sometimes I wonder about their INT score.
It's been a few days since that lovely elf Aeryn'ethil has left and our talk about proper midden heap cultivation has revitalized my interest in the subject. I've started a small garden right outside the eastern wall. As long as no travelers trample through my garden, I'll have plenty of delicious fruit to offer guests and traders. Oleg has promised me a fence as soon as the stronger doors are hung.
We'll see if he gets around to it. So much se
[Hastily scribbled note]
Oleg is yelling for me. He shouts of riders from the east. And our happy times were just beginning. I pray we survive whatever comes this way.
From the journal of Aeryn'ethil, Elven Wizard
Dear Reader, Congratulations on finding the journal of Aeryn'ethil! By the time you find this writing the the name should already be known to you and you should find yourself In a fit of uncontrollable Joy. That is a normal feeling of having a legends words in your hands and NOT I repeat NOT a magical trap, so relax and enjoy..(If by some reason you have not heard of me then I have probably been killed by one of these bumpkins. You may want to hunt them down and kill them for this, and I encourage that behavior. For now thought just enjoy the tales of my exploits.)
The human lands. Absolutely revolting to all the senses. If I am not hearing there grumblings I am smelling there droppings! I stopped at an Inn today as I make my way over to meet up with some traveling companions for a job I have signed up for. As soon as I walked in I was meet with slack jaws and dead eye'ed stares. It is as if they had never seen one of the people before, perhaps so. If I was a dirt farmer living in my mud hut perhaps I would be in awe of my own glory as well. I ordered something colorfully named “The special”, which to my understanding was food. I soon discovered it was not food at all, but vile poison! With the first bite I felt the bile rise in my throat and left the bowl there to simmer and perhaps find another victim. My accommodations? A bale of hey in a damp room. Thankfully I don't sleep like these brutes. I fear it has a disease and refuse to touch it.
I have finally met up with my companions. There are two of them in all. Alexander he calls himself is a Paladin, seems awfully simple minded but perhaps that is made up for the fact of the enormous sword on his back. And Eric, there is something I don't trust about that man. He has the eyes of a predator and seems to always be looking over his shoulder. I do not wish him to bring me any of his troubles. I do not need them I assure him. Well we are off to a trading post of....what was his name? Oleg? What kind of name is that!
Well now that I have time to finally write and I am not being assaulted by bandits or spiders or the very wind itself, I can recount the last few days. We arrived at Olegs, and seems he was having some bandit trouble I detest such parasites so I agreed to help. We set a trap, of my own devising I might add, for the bandits when they came in and it sprung beautifully. With a wave of my hand the battle was ended with a sleep spell. Then it was a simple matter of cleaning up the remains. The bandits were hung, and good riddance to them the leaders laughing was like to drive me insane! We then decided to pursue the bandit camp itself. Wile riding we found a giant spider that attacked Eric, and it was slain....slain indeed. We came to the bandit camp and another wave of bumpkins showed up and after some MORE talking battle was had! Again I ended the majority of the threat with but a wave of my hand, I honestly don't know what these companions would do without me. Eric and I finished off the rest of the archers off. I did notice Alexander was covered with blood so I assume he did something. Another interrogation of a utterly infuriating idiot. His stupidity was legendary. He is in the cart now and we are heading back. (As a side note I was surprised to see that the old human woman Svetlana was more knowledgeable then I on the local fauna. I was impressed. Perhaps there is hope for these humans after all.)
From the journal of Erich Orlovsky, Human Rogue
I have reached the phase of my plan in which I truly cannot plan. While I am not at a loss as to how to proceed there are simply too many variable with which to contend. I have since decided that living though this next leg of our journey is plan enough, and once the dust settles from our exploration I can reevaluate my plans to bring ruin to my former house.
My comnaions are an interesting lot. Our first encounter with the bandits of the region hardly proved a challenge once the elf mage Aeryn'ethil cast his sleep spell on three quarters of the bandits. His abilities thus far have more than justified his lack of a civil tongue, and at least said tongue is not without its own sardonic mirth. The man at arms, Arthas is a quiet one. He arrived to our party late, and hardly spoke a word to us during our time together thus far. The elf and the paladin both spoke briefly as to their backgrounds on our journey to the trading post together, but Arthas was not there for that. Suspicious, but not enough so yet as to force my hand. The paladin, Alexander, is a slight more interesting. It is plainly written across his face that he struggles with taking lives. Perhaps because he is so new to the order, maybe this internal struggle is what causes him to struggle to swing that great sword of his, because it is fairly clear from his physique that it is not for lack of strength. I didn't expect to meet a paladin on my journey, much less have one as a companion, though I get the feeling that at this point in his spiritual journey I know almost as much as he does about the specifics of being a true paladin.
All things considered our journey this far has gone exceptionally smooth, though just saying those words to myself seems to almost assure that something much more dramatic will happen soon. As always i am prepared for anything, I only hope the same can be said of my companions.
Lamashan 3,
It has been many days since I have had the time to pick up my quill. My companions and I have been exploring the area close to Oleg’s trading outpost for many days now. It seems as if nature itself wishes this land to remain untamed, and I grow weary of every passing animal, expecting it to attack me on the road.
Much has happened, the first and perhaps most important, Restov has finally sent Oleg the guards he was promised, the leader being one Kestan Garress, who’s surname I recognize as being of a noble house. I plan to speak to that one when we get a chance.
We traveled first to the east and discovered the potion maker Oleg spoke to us about. Bokkan is his name, and “eccentric” is a kind way to describe the man. Despite his…mannerisms… he seems a kind fellow and his potions seem authentic. He asked us to retrieve some fangberries for him, that he may complete a potion he was brewing.
We trekked slowly to the southwest where we encountered gluttonous kobolds gorged on what Aeryn identified as moon radishes. We attempted to calm the creatures, but after the third rock was thrown our patience wore thin and we chased the creatures off, collecting what moonradishes we needed to bring to Svetlana.
When we went back to camp to resupply ourselves, we were met by a man named Jhod, a follower of Erastil. He asked us to find an overgrown Temple of Erastil that was protected by a great bear. There seemed more to the man, but we didn’t press. As we were making camp, I left a tribute to the tricksters in the form of 10 gold pieces.
Lamashan 4,
We awoke this morning to more tricks from the Fey. The most devious, perhaps, being Arthon’s horse completely shaven. It is… unnatural. I can’t look at the creature without chuckling, much to the scorn of Arthon. So far, I have not discovered any tricks against me, and the gold was taken sometime during the night. Perhaps it was the fey, perhaps it was one of my destitute companions. Either way, the creatures amuse me, and I find myself rooting for them, and delighted in their tricks. Perhaps not all of nature is so bad. We are, however, about to embark on a journey to fight a giant bear, perhaps I will not think so soon.
Lamashan 7,
After a few more days of leaving presents and notes for the Fey, they finally showed themselves after a bribe of silver earrings we found from the bandit camp. They told us about some Frogmen out west that were a nuisance as well as a hint about the location of Breeg. After some prodding they told us they had “given him a taste of his own medicine”. We shall venture that direction soon.
As Jhod had foreseen, the Temple of Erastil was overgrown and the air around the place seemed… wrong. My companions seemed to notice as well, so we dismounted and crept up to the entrance. As we rounded passed the fountain an earthshaking roar came from the cave behind the temple as an enormous bear charged towards us. Arthon and myself moved into a position to fight the bear as Aeryn and Erich searched for higher ground. The bear injured Arthon and then pulled me into his grasp. As my vision blackened in his grip I thought all was lost when a spray of color from the outstretched hands of Aeryn’ithil stunned the bear long enough for me to gasp a breath of air and finish the beast off. It wasn’t until after the beast collapsed that I noticed the slew of cuts and arrows on his body that I realized how much my companions had hurt this creature. I went to pluck an arrow from its hide when, before my very eyes, the bear changed form into an older man, and then faded into dust. The light around us brightened, the formerly stinking pond became clear, and the air seemed clearer. Certainly, this was a magical beast, but what enchantment had been placed here, and why? Perhaps we will know, in time. The bear seems have had the final revenge in this encounter, it seems his spine has made a nick in my blade, which I must now work to remove.
Lamashan 8,
We followed the river upstream to its source. We expected to find a large body of water but what we found is a meandering course that leads right back into itself. Most odd, some goddess of old perhaps enchanted this land to baffle travelers. We found the man, Breeg, in a snare of his own making. Perhaps a harsh punishment for one that had grown careless with traps, but if the tales of Breeg turning to petty banditry are true then perhaps it is fitting that this should happen.
Lamashan 12,
After much exploration of empty grasslands, we stumbled upon an ancient burial mound. Aeryn and Erich were able to tell us that this was an ancient cairne of one of the barbarian tribes in the village. I detected no evil about the place and we did not wish to disturb the sacred place so we left it be. The days are getting colder as the weeks pass, Svetlana should soon be finished with direwolf cloaks, Iomedae be praised.
Lamashan 15,
I have to say, when I was sent here by the leaders of my order, I thought I would be helping those in need in the name of Iomedae. It turns out that by Her graces, it is I that is in need. I’ve been swatting mosquitos and flies all day, what sort of evil creatures can survive in such cold? A few days ago we were almost dragged under one of the bogs by a pair of manlike frogs that Aeryn tells me are native to this region and called, ‘Boggards’, aptly named, I should say. Iomedae grant me strength to pass these tests with the stoicism fitting for one of your order.
The next day we came across a statue of Erastil, when we removed the vines from the statue we felt a hum through our weapons and their edges seemed sharpened. We set off to tell Jhod of this and came to across another Boggard, who knew only a little of common languages. After some debate among our group and much speaking of the word “truce” we left the creature to continue to Jhod Kafkin’s temple to Erastil.
Lamashan 16,
Yet another attack from the wildlife here has left Jhod possibly crippled for life. We rode into his temple early this morning and discovered him bleeding in front of the pool. Iomedae’s graces allowed me to heal the wound in his leg and he was able to tell us his story. He was wounded by a raging boar as he was hunting, south and east of here. We set up an ambush around the creature’s lair now. It grows dark, I must get some rest, if this beast is truly as terrible as Sir Kafkin has described. Iomedae protect us.
Lamashan 17,
I was shaken awake by Erich Orlovsky, a finger pressed to his lips urging silence. I attuned my ears to the forest at his signal and heard a rustle of grass and a grunt that gave away our attacker. Without a sound, Erich faded into the darkness. My companions glanced around, hands on their weapons as I reached for a torch. I was sure Erich had already set into motion his plan, whatever that was, he was not one to go about something like this lightly. I paused once the flint was in my hands and received a nod from Aeryn and Arthon and lit the torch. From the underbrush a great boar charged Arthon, goring him in the stomach. I knew the wound was dire, and time was short. The beast easily dodged the weakened swings from the dying warrior. Fortunately, my faith in Erich was not misplaced, from beyond the torchlight he sprung, easily slitting the beast’s throat. With no time to waste, I place my hands upon Arthon, sought the light of Iomedae within, and the man was healed. Praise the light. We ride now back to Jhod’s to report our success and then to Goodman Oleg’s for resupply and a much needed rest. The days are short. Winter is coming.
From the journal of Erich Orlovsky, Human Rogue
I have grown mightily tired of this part of my so called "plan" once can only exist on trail rations alone for so long. Our brief respites at Olegs seem like such a vacation from these hate filled lands it is hard to rally once again into that these unforgiving lands. I have been injured on this journey far more than I every intended or hope to be again. Though I am not along in this. It seems as though everyone in our party has sustained injuries to one extent or another, asside from the mage i suppose. Aeryn seems hardier than I have heard of elves being, but the fact of the matter remains that his robes provide little protection, and his spells of protection will not always be around, I shudder to think of a time when he takes a truly effective blow. I myself am incredibly fortunate to have been born with quick reflexes. Between my reflexes and my acrobatic training I have been able to escape from countless situations that could have spelled an early demise for myself.
I have never been "one" with nature. I have never been drawn to a life of solitude in the wilderness and I have certainly never been overly fond of wild animals. This has never been more true now. I have foughten boars, giant wyrms, terrible centipedes and bloodthirsty ticks. While I have escaped each conflict with my life, they have only served to further remind me why I was never drawn to the path of a ranger or some other nature focused calling. That is not to say that all of my experiences here have been bad, for every disease carrying giant insect there have been countless almost boring days of seemingly aimless exploration of these lands. I will confess to having enjoyed exercising my skills in legitimate conflicts, rather than in training or practice. I have picked up several new skills along the way, and continue to practice those that I feel are most useful.
Our task of exploring this land is coming along nicely. With almost the entire region explored (with some help from a traveling Pathfinder) we ready ourselves for what promises to be the most trying experience of our journey thus far. Eliminating the threat of the bandit king who fancies himself "the Stag Lord". None of his bandit thugs thus far have posed much of a threat to me or my compatriots, and because of that I have confidence. The aura of menace and fear that he has built up around himself is enough to give me pause however. While we haven't solidified a plan of assault as of yet, between my abilities of disguise, the mage's spell of invisibility, and the barrel of liquor we took from the Stag Lords lieutenant, I believe we have a very real chance of getting into this "lair" he has made for himself and ridding my future kingdom of its first real menace.
Lamashan 19,
We continued our exploration in the lands south and east of Oleg’s Trading post. We made a most startling discovery our very first day. We came upon a cave that, when a torch was lit, it’s very walls glittered back at us. Aeryn examined the stone to discover that this was gold! An impossibly large sum. I made a special mark on our map for this location. It would be wise to begin a mining operation here as soon as time allowed. I place my duty to the Order of Iomedae and the Swordlords of Rostland first, there will be time for riches later.
Continuing further southeast, we came upon a massive tree, the likes of which I have never seen. Its branches shaded acres. I observed to see if this was the tree in the note we found, which was supposed to resemble a claw. I rode for hours around and saw no claw shape in this. While I was gone, my companions had searched the base and had found small tracks, some reptilian and leading to the west. We made camp near the tree to see if we could spot any movement, but our nightwatches saw nothing, which isn’t a big surprise to me… I’ve seen how Arthorn treats his “watch”.
Lamashan 20,
We followed the tracks that led us to a lair of kobolds similar in color to those in the moon radish patch. We managed to talk them out of hostilities and were brought to their spiritual leader who calls himself Tartuk. The kobolds in the den were curious but not hostile. I gazed upon the aura of Tartuk’s soul and I found him blindingly evil. My jaw clenched as this creature asked us to retrieve a statue of a devil that was stolen from them. It was all that I could do not to end this miserable creature’s life. We were sorely outnumbered and surely some innocents would be hurt if we were to engage now. I lament my actions now, for we were taken into a room most unholy where the kobold that greeted us at the door was sacrificed. Tears welled in my eyes; I did not hear the rest of the conversation and found myself numbly leaving the kobold den, headed northwest. My resolve hardens. We will find this Tartuk’s statue and end its foul presence. A kobold guides us to the lair of the mites. He tells us of the Chieftain’s troubles with Tartuk. My companions think that we should stage a coup, and I heartily agree. Iomedae forgive my weaknesses, I have failed to protect an innocent soul.
Lamashan 21,
Our guide showed us the entrance to the lair of the mites, a small hole at the base of the enormous tree. Arthon lead the way into the breach, I followed close behind. I landed to find Arthon beset by two creatures. One of the creatures attempted to cast a fear inducing spell upon me, but my will would not falter. The thought of my failure of the previous day wrenched my heart. We cut these evil creatures down and continued through the tunnels, climbing further into the darkness. I heard a stumble and looked down to see Arthon had vanished from sight. I heard a rush of many footsteps and hastened down the tunnel. A pack of mites had surrounded a chained kobold and my heart raced. I would not repeat my mistake. I landed as Arthon stood, he had already felled one of the beasts, they pressed in on me and a dagger found a chink in the armor around my knee. Fighting in those corridors with a great sword was hard but there were so many foes it was hard to miss. Carsomyr sang as another mite was cut down. Erich landed behind me and leapt through the group, agilely scoring hits with both weapons. I felt another dagger plunge into my other kneecap; surely, these damned creatures could find the cracks in leg plates! Another spell washed over me to no effect and as I turned to the caster a sword burst from his chest behind a spray of blood, Arthon panting over his corpse.
We cut the prisoner kobold free and he warned us of the dangers in the passages ahead. I told him to leave from where we came from, it was the safest direction, and to meet up with our kobold guide that was waiting outside.
We came across a vast cleft in the cavern with a rickety vine bridge. Arthon and myself, burdened with heavy armor, would be hard pressed to cross such a bridge. Erich leapt across the chasm with ease. A skittering in the darkness below signaled the danger first, an enormous centipede appeared from below. I saw Erich fade into the shadows as Arthon raised his shield, taking the first mighty blow from the creature. Aeryn wiped sweat from his brow and began an incantation as Adam moved from the breach. My grip tightened on my great sword as Aeryn turned to me, spell casting complete, and shrugged. I stepped in the vacancy left by Arthon just in time to see the centipede snapping at the shield strapped on the fighter’s back as he climbed down the passage. I spotted a vulnerability in the beast’s armor and leapt forth, plunging my blade into the chink. A shudder below me and the creature fell to back into the blackness, from whence it came.
Erich led the way into the next room where we were met with another group of mites, one riding a giant tick that seemed to be giving the commands. Erich agilely leapt and rolled through the attackers. While I struggled to get through the breech, Aeryn moved into a position near Erich and began an incantation that incapacitated three of the mites. Around that time, Erich’s dodging finally came to an end as the insect grabbed him and sickeningly began drinking of his lifeblood. Arthon and I were hard pressed to fight past the swarming mites but fortunately Erich managed to slip away as Arthon cut his way to the creature. We flanked our foe but the skilled rider was able to keep his mount from taking our weary blows. A skittering behind us signaled more reinforcements, and suddenly a wall appeared between us and the next room. I stole a glance to Aeryn, who nodded, I knew this to be an illusion spell he had used before, but hopefully the creatures wouldn’t discover that for some time. The tick managed to pull Arthon into its grasp and began draining him as well. An acid dart finally took the rider down and Erich slid under the tick, plunging both weapons into its abdomen, fresh blood pouring from its many wounds. I pulled my healing wand free and repaired some of the worst injuries that my companions sustained while Aeryn concentrated on keeping the illusion up. When everyone seemed ready to continue fighting, I plunged Carsomyr through the illusion, feeling the blade plunge deep into one of the creatures. The illusion fell and the mites surged forward. Erich, Arthon, and myself picked a position where we would only fight a few at a time and soon there was but one. This one, however, seemed a demon of agility. Several swings from all of us failed to land. A quarterstaff was desperately thrown by the tired magician in an attempt to end this one’s life. I nearly called upon the divine powers of my goddess to help us with this worthy opponent. These cramped tunnels were not the place for my great sword, on one swing I stumbled and my great sword shattered as it clashed into the rocks. In a fury, my long sword leapt into my hand and in one final blow took the creature down. I collected what shards I could from my broken heirloom, and we made our way back to the kobold encampment once the statue was located.
We went straight to the chieftain of the kobolds with the recovered statue, and as he saw it I saw his eyes darken. I knew what was to come as I handed him the figurine. The chieftain boldly held the thing above his head, and promptly smashed it upon the rocks, to the cheers of the kobolds that had gathered the witness the event. We promised to help in dealing with Tartuk. We had the tribe guard the exits as we entered. I told the chieftain to stay out of harm’s way; these sootscales would need leadership after we had vanquished the fanatical Tartuk. His room was empty, a cauldron still boiled in the center of the room, he couldn’t be far. As Arthon neared the cauldron, it magically tipped over, but he was able to avoid injury. Suddenly, several demons appeared around us. A call from Aeryn told us these were illusions and to pay them no heed. A laugh from the corner brought my attention, Tartuk chuckled at us. I charged him through the illusions and score a fine hit, Arthon stopped to fight one of the demonic illusions to the irritation of the mage. A dagger sailed past my head and narrowly missed Tartuk as Arthon came to his senses and went to assist me. Seeing he was clearly overmatched, Tartuk backed into the recesses of the cavern, behind a few furs that were hanging up. Arthon reached after him as I ripped down the furs. Using all of his might, Arthon pulled him back into our waiting swords. A trio of hits from each of us spelled the end of Tartuk and his reign over the Sootscale Kobolds. The chieftain promised to ally with us after he restored his tribe to its full strength.
Lamashan 22,
In the morning, Erich didn’t look too well so we decided to visit Jhod to see what he could do. He lacked the skill to completely heal the festering disease but he was able to stave off some of its effects. We attempted a more long-term care but due to some… unforeseen circumstances… the cure failed. I left my great sword with Jhod, I know priests of my order routinely mend broken blades, perhaps, given enough time, he could as well. We then decided to head to Bokkan’s; perhaps he would have a potion that could cure the illness. When that lead nowhere, we returned here to Oleg’s trading post, hopefully with a good night of rest Erich will be feeling better.
I myself feel much better with my wet boots off, a nice fire roaring in the hearth, and the bugs out of my face. These past months have been long and arduous, but looking at our progress I am proud of what we have accomplished. My companions and I have our different styles and perspectives from our different walks of life, but I truly feel that we are working towards the same goals. Together, we bring light into this world that is so clouded with darkness. In these short weeks, I have watched this village change into a downtrodden, dingy outpost, to a place of thriving community, compassion, and beauty in no small part due to our persistence. The Swordlords were fortunate to have recruited men of such caliber, and I am fortunate to know such men.
Lamashan 23,
A good night’s sleep has done Erich well, but I can still see he has some sort of fever left over. We decide to return to Jhod’s to see if he has thought of a cure and to see if he had done anything to repair my sword. Jhod had prepared a poultice that he assured us would help speed the recovery process, provided Erich had ample time to rest. To my delight, he had repaired Carsomyr with an added flair, a design of the symbols for my goddess and the god Erastil on my hilt. It seems a fitting alliance, symbolic of the grace that Erastil has given us to survive in his wilderness.
We headed south, and Arthon recognizes tracks of Tatzlewyrms, headed to the west. We decide to continue following the tracks, hoping that they would lead us to the beasts’ lair. Oleg has promised a fine reward for the head of such a beast. We come to a fast flowing river, rocks set about at what seems to be a passable place. The rapids beat heavy, but Erich assures us he can make the jumps. He leaps onto the first three rocks with ease but as he plants a foot on the fourth, what I could only assume was a tatzlewyrm rises from the water, shrieking in rage. We call for Erich to return to us as we wade waist deep into the spray. A shriek from behind us signals the coming danger and I back out of the river to meet the second tatzlewyrm, calling out the danger to my allies. I strike the creature with a mighty blow as Erich flanks the creature and ends its life. I turned to see Arthon battling the first creature in a spray of water clashing against the rocks. Seconds later, he returns and drops the head of the creature at our feet.
At present, I sit near the river, trying futilely to dry my ever-damp boots near the fire. I pass my hand over the hilt of my sword, praying to Erastil to grant us sanctuary from such creatures in the future.
Lamashan 24,
We continued our exploration, stumbling onto what we recognize as fangberries from Bokkan’s description. Unfortunately, they are covered in the largest thorns I have ever seen. My companions lack the heavy armor, or bravery, perhaps, to pick these berries, so I set about to the deed. As soon as I pick my first branch, I am beset by the largest swarm of sinister spiders I have ever seen. Wicked, wicked nature strikes yet again. I curse as I roll in the dirt, trying helplessly to rid myself of the spiders. My companions watch me, most likely paralyzed by such a horror []. I jumped into a nearby stream, ridding myself of the creatures. A wave of nausea washed over me, but I managed to keep my trail rations in my stomach, where it belongs. We hatch a new plan, to rip free bushes and dump them into the stream, taking most of the day and valiantly battling the spiders to get a full barrel of fangberries for Bokkan.
Lamashan 25,
Following the river to the northeast, we pass by the kobold den and seek to explore the lands southeast of Oleg’s trading post. We come to what looked to have once been a river crossing. A single rope now stood where there once must have been a bridge. Erich began shimmying his way across when the waters churned and a corpse rose from the water. At first glance, I knew such a creature to be beyond our abilities. Though my hands tightened on my weapon, this was a time for prudence. He walked upon the water to Erich, and demanded the body of the Stag Lord be thrown into the river. Erich fervently promised to do as he was bidden. I think we must learn more of this creature. I know that in the future, if giving this spirit what he wants does not release him from this earth, he will eventually have to be dealt with, if this land is to truly be tamed.
Lamashan 26,
We now sit at Oleg’s Trading Post again, this time plotting what is sure to be our most challenging battle yet. We have gathered as much intelligence as we can on the Stag Lord, it is time we use this knowledge and defeat the man. We have decided upon an infiltration technique, using various disguises we will pretend to be delivering the alcohol we claimed from the bandits at Kestral’s camp. Myself and Arthon will be hidden in the back of the wagon at the ready while Erich and Aeryn bluff their way in.
At Oleg’s was a note addressed to me from Vanor, the Pathfinder, along with magical compass. The note applauded my exploration and cartography, saying he thought I had what it takes to be a pathfinder in this dangerous world. The inscription reads, “Get Lost to Find Yourself”. An interesting proverb, as we are often lost in this wild land. Tomorrow, however, we have a clear mission: find the Stag Lord and end his influence over the Greenbelt.
From the journal of Erich Orlovsky, Human Rogue
Defeating the stag lord was not quite as simple as I had hoped it would be. Time and time again our party had been told that the stag lord’s keep would be a challenge for us, but still, I thought to myself, “what thus far has truly been a challenge for our band of warriors.” Yes the mites cave was a challenge that almost ended me, and our stout friend Arthon, but I was never truly worried. I was truly worried the night we killed the stag lord.
We arrived at the “keep” (which was nothing more than wooden repairs to the remains of a former fort) under disguise. Aeyrn and I assumed the disguise of Bandits while Alex and Arthon hid in the wagon we brought from Olegs. Using the challenge and pass taken from the group of bandits that assaulted us in the forest we were allowed entry in order to deliver the liquor taken from Kessel and her band. We were allowed in and proceeded to the back of the fort. I told Aeryn and the rest of our group to remain with the wagon while I scouted the camp. While I was scouting I attempted to find the most beneficial place for us to engage the forts defenses. After deciding on where to fight, and bluffing my way through a couple of patrols I went to clear out the area we had decided to fight in. I attempted to use one of my drow poisoned daggers on the first guard I came upon, but instead of putting him to sleep I buried it to the hilt in the base of his skull. The guard with the lisp was asleep when I came upon him, and my sap made sure that he would remain that way while I stripped his pants away to tie him to the watch post.
When I came back down to my friends we decided to fight in a covered position with only two points of access. While my friends assumed positions inside the hut, I went out and lured a patrol into where they were waiting and we quickly dispatched them. When I went to lure the second group in I was questioned heavily by the duelist who looked quite threatening, while I got him to follow me, he sent a couple of guards into the “murder hall” we had set up, while making me stay outside. Upon hearing the screams of the guards as my companions dispatched them, the duelist attempted to attack me almost instantly. The rest of the battle can probably be better recapped by one of my other companions, it is much of a blur to me, running on nothing but adrenaline and nearly meeting my maker before the fight was over, it was the single most harrowing experience of my life, and I am well satisfied to have it behind me, with the lessons learned fresh in my head.
[This was a total bad-@#$ scene where the rogue really got to shine with the bluff, stealth, sap, traps. Really, just an excellent example of the abilities of a well played rogue. The party pretty much did nothing except watch the rogue play for an hour and a half but we were all breathless at every bluff and stealth roll. A fun session]
Lamashan 27,
The journey to the Stag Lord’s fort is long and… bumpy. I currently in the back of the wagon with Arthon; my place in our plan is rather simple. Wait in the wagon, then come out and hit evil things. Preferably really hard. We know that there were three guard towers, and that we should stay on the path but little else. I am done trying to scribble in this bumpy mess for now, I must pray to my Goddess, may She grant me Her favor in the battle tonight. If I do not return, and one should find this journal, please deliver it into the hands of Sir Keldorn Firecam, Fifth Swordknight of the Church of Iomedae
Lamashan 28,
I am happy to be writing this page now, bloody and broken, but head unbowed. We were triumphant in our quest to rid this land of banditry. The events unfolded as such…
Arthon and I hid in the back of the wagon until nightfall, where Erich and Aeryn’s disguises would be under less scrutiny. We approached the gate and though I could not hear what transpired under all the filthy straw, we soon bounced into the gate. A hand reached in and grabbed the box of wine, as it was wrenched free, the side clipped Arthon on the nose. I could tell the man was in pain but made not a sound. More talk, then the wagon creaked along to the back of the fort. Erich whispered into the wagon to hold fast, he was going out to scout around. Agonizing minutes past and sweat beaded on my forehead. How long should we wait? What if we are discovered? I drew my dagger and prepared for the worst. Just as I was about to prepare to move, Erich motioned us around. He told us quickly of the layout of the camp and his plan: he would draw people into one of the rooms on the upper floor and we would kill as many as we could before an alarm was sounded in the camp.
Erich’s tactical decisions I’ve found are usually spot-on, so we all agreed to the plan. We crouched near the stairs while Erich made one final check. A patrol of bandits came around and some quick thinking on Arthon’s part turned their suspicions away. We quickly scurried into the room that Erich had showed us before our luck ran out. A few muttered words from the wizard and we appeared as nothing more than a stone wall, poised to attack the first thing that came through the door. Erich called to the roving guard, who were quick to believe what they thought was a friend. Their lives ended without a struggle. We dragged their bodies to a corner as Erich set out again. I don’t prefer these tactics, but we were fighting a much numerically superior foe, ones who have slain many an innocent life. We do what we must to protect them. I waited in the darkness as another two were lured inside. This time, I could hear several bandits outside. We easily cut down the two unaware men, but suddenly the alarm was sounded and battle was joined.
A flash had several of the bandits screaming about their eyes as I charged out. Perhaps if their faith had been stronger, I thought, they would have not succumbed to such a spell. We easily dispatched these men, only the one with the rapier providing us with much trouble at all. A seasoned looking warrior broke ranks as his men were cut down, calling out to all the rest in the camp. A careless lunge from Arthon caused me to take what I think is the only hit we took during those first few minutes. I’ll have to be more careful when fighting near that man. An arrow suddenly plunged into Arthon, despite his heavy armor. His mouth widened in pain as he staggered around the corner, away from the bowman. Erich made for the building where we had originally sprung out trap. It seemed like a good plan… at the time. So I followed. I could hear a man shout, ‘Master! I’ve freed the beast’. I knew things were about to get rough for us.
A flaming arrow sizzled past the door, thunking loudly into the corner of the building, catching many things ablaze. Aeryn frantically beat out the flames with his cloak while Erich disabled the bridge behind us. What I recognized as an owlbear suddenly filled the doorway. As I was looking at the remaining fires behind me, a claw cut me across the eye. I fear I will not sport quite the scar there for some time. I stumbled back, calling upon the healing powers of my goddess to return my sight. Arthon moved to clog the breech; I could hear arrows glancing off his shield as I wiped the blood from my eyes. Once I could see again, I swung at the beast, scoring a couple of hits as Arthon finished the creature off.
We were not out of danger yet. Sounds of an axe chopping away at the supports to our building signaled that we should leave, and quickly. Arthon charged down the stairs, taking a couple of arrows from waiting guardsmen. I followed behind, glancing to my right; I saw what could only be the Stag Lord himself. A towering monstrosity of a man, covered in scars and tattoos, all topped with a sinister looking helm. I called for Iomedae to aid me as we charged the man. Arrows whizzed by me as we closed the distance, Arthon and I immediately putting the man on the defensive as Erich maneuvered around to a flanking position. Bolts of magical energy and steel pierced the man many times until a last hit with Carsomyr felled the man. An arrow from behind told us we were not out of danger yet. I healed the many wounds of my companions as quickly as I could as they took chase towards the last man in the chainmail armor. His cowardess eventually led to his death.
We ride now back to Oleg’s, I now share the wagon with a pile of loot that is sure to do us good in our future battles against those who would dare harm the innocent. I must now compose a letter to the Swordlords, for the major dangers in this land have been dealt with. I don’t think this land will truly ever be tamed, but we have made a good dent this day.
Sent to Sir Keldorn Firecam, Fifth Swordknight of the Church of Iomedae
My Lord,
My primary task is completed as the threat of organized banditry and the scoundrel known as "The Stag Lord" have been eliminated. Many potential pitfalls have threatened us along the way but Iomedae saw fit to see us through these hardships. The Swordlords have sent a request of me and my companions, they ask us to forge a new barony, to bring about civilization to these untamed lands. I see this as an opportunity to bring forth Her light into this world. I have taken the title, Baron, and now begin construction on the first settlement. If this does not interfere with the wishes of the order, I wish to remain here and rule. With your guidance, I should eventually wish to create an Order of Paladins here in this land. I will provide the Order with updates to my kingdom's progress. Enclosed in this letter you will find a rough map of Greensreach.
Your loyal servant of the faith,
Baron Alexander Reinholdt
Reply to Baron Alexander Reinholdt from Vanessa Krass, Paladin initiate and sole survivor of the Three Days Massacre.
Baron Reinholdt,
My heart is heavy as I write you; tears of shame and pain fall freely on the paper. Nigh on three months ago, our holy order was attacked by evil incarnate. For three days, our brothers and sisters valiantly fought against a large force of wargs, demon spawn, malicious wizards and creatures I shudder to think about. Leading this murderous army was a Blackguard who's strength and fury were unmatched. One by one, we fell, none rose again, save myself.
I received a crushing blow that should have killed me. By Her grace, and my everlasting relief, I awoke nearly a week after the last paladin took his breath.
Alexander, we are finished. I buried 29 souls and stood vigil for two nights, as befitting such heroes, and have only recently begun to repair some of the damage that was wrought by the horde. I'm afraid it is a lost cause. Locals and travelers alike shun the place, afraid the Blackguard will return.
There is more I must tell you, but I fear this letter falling into the wrong hands. I remember the day you arrived at the Monastery, I was still in my novice frock, scrubbing the stairs late at night. It is about that day, and about the attack, that I must speak to you about.
Your only remaining sister,
Vanessa
Reply to Vanessa Krass
My Dearest Vanessa,
In my short time at the Monastery I was blessed to know the quality of men and women that served in Her everlasting army. I am saddened to learn of such a tragedy, but I am confident that we will find those responsible and bring them to justice, as is our duty. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor, the brightness of their light, we will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
Death cannot kill what never dies.
I am dispatching my best agents with this letter. Should you choose, they will escort you safely to Riven. Here we will use this base of operations to investigate the happenings of that terrible day, and strike back with a righteous fury reserved for the greatest of evils. We will right these wrongs, we will rebuild.
With love and sympathy,
Alexander
[This is between me and my DM, sort of my backstory playing out. It won't resolve until we're higher level, but I think its a good twist, and something that I didn't see coming at all. Loving it. We are level 4 at this point in the adventure.]
Neth 13,
After a long wait, a most curious reply from the swordlords came in today. They wish us to remain here in this land, and forge a new barony and promise assistance in this task. I have claimed the title Baron, we have bestowed a new and fitting name for our land: Greensreach. They promise to send settlers our way, and wish us to begin constructing our first city.
Neth 20,
The settlers arrived and we have discussed roles that are necessary for our kingdom to blossom as it should. Erich has taken the role of spymaster, Aeryn of Magister, Arthon fittingly was chosen General, Svetlana has agreed to be our councilor, Jhod our High Priest, Oleg to be our Treasurer, Amir (one of the settlers) will be the Grand Diplomat, and the guard captain, Kestan, will now fill the role of Warden. We begin preparing the build site.
Neth 21,
The settlers wish to first construct houses, to which Aeryn repeatedly demands his own personal caster's tower. A decision to first build houses for the people is made. We decide upon having a founding festival to bring these people together and allow them to rest from their travels. They have brought a surplus of food and supplies and the settlers seem happy to have new opportunity in this new land.
Abadius (January),
Construction of the houses complete, we traveled to the Kobold's lair to see if they have gained the necessary strength to become an ally to our kingdom. Chief Sootscale seems thrilled with the idea, and after an impressive display of cunning, we have decided he would be a perfect Royal Assassin for our kingdom. He readily agrees to this position if the Sootscales are allowed a presence in our city, which we grant.
Amir was angry at me for not being around more often but Aeryn was able to soothe the man. I realize I have been very busy with learning the responsibilities of my new position, but I will have to be more attentive to my fellow leaders.
Calistril (February),
We have now begun construction of a Caster's Tower. The income generated from the sale of magic items is sure to be essential to the rising economy of Riven, our capital city.
A great rain threated to sweep away that which we have labored for. Fortunately, the worst of the floods are localized in areas that we have not built upon.
Pharast (March),
Nothing much of note here. We use the good weather of the month to make small repairs. We save much of the kingdom's capital for future construction.
Gozran (April),
Treachery! An assassin who claims to be paid by Pitax attacked me in the dark of the night. Erich has turned his spy network onto our neighboring River Kingdom. Hopefully we will know more of this event soon.
Desnus (May),
We have further expanded our kingdom's borders to the north. We plan to eventually encompass Oleg's Trading Post.
Sarenith (June),
With the assassination attempt it became clear to us that we would need a proper holding place for criminals, we have begun construction on a jailhouse. The summer warmth has brought an exceptionally bountiful harvest this month.
Erastus (July),
After construction of the jailhouse was finished, our group focus became more on the economy of our kingdom. We have built a district of smithies and carpenters to help with this. We have sent out word across the lands for fledgling black smiths, gold smiths, silver smiths, weapon smiths, armorers, and fletchers to seek their fortune in this new land. We have taken a more aggressive approach to promotion of our new land, taxes remain at zero.
Arodus (August),
Using the ruins of the old Stag Lord's Fort we have built a castle on the edges of the lake. In an ideal defensible position the castle is sure to also provide a symbol of pride for all these settlers have accomplished.
Arthon was caught visiting the... less reputable ladies of our town but it seems the camaraderie of the city is as strong as ever.
Rova (September)
We have expanded our borders to Oleg's Trading Post, which we have now dubbed "Olegton". Construction of more houses in the north have commenced.
Arthon was again caught with the harlets and some of the petitioners demanded his resignation but I assured them that he was the man most suitable to be the general of our armies... despite his bad habits. Still, I have reprimanded the man.
Lamashan (October),
We have built stables at Olegton, a common place to rest for travelers along the South Rostland Road.
Though it still takes me by suprise sometimes to have a man call me Baron and kneel at my feet, I feel as if Greensreach is thriving due to mine and my companion's rule. I can only thank Iomedae for her blessings as well as the hardy people of Greensreach for their ability to carve out a community in these "Stolen Lands".