PDA

View Full Version : Journal The Diary of Mercer Kingsley: A Kingmaker Campaign Journal



Dravda
2016-09-06, 12:45 AM
Welcome to the Diary of Mercer Kingsley! Having just completed Red Hand of Doom (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?480297-Red-Hand-of-Doom-is-Still-Cool-Right), I am now handing off the DM reins within my group so we can play Pathfinder's Kingmaker adventure path.

This journal is a bit of an experiment, as it will be written entirely in first-person. This journal will continue as long as there's interest, so as long as you're reading, I'll keep writing.

Special thanks go to Red Fel and Thealtruisticorc, for the inspiration provided by their excellent treatises on the darker end of the alignment spectrum. Your writings have directly inspired me to make this attempt at a nuanced, believable player character with an evil alignment. And, in your case, TAO, the motto on your CE guide proved so perfect that I lifted it for Mercer's personal mantra.

DELETED

Devacorian
2016-09-06, 02:09 AM
Very nice, Dravda. I'm definitely looking forward to reading more from this character's point of view.

I'm also linking people to this page from my campaign journal, so you might have some readers filtering in from there.

Kane0
2016-09-06, 02:09 AM
Ooh, sounds very entertaining so far.

Having been playing an ongoing kingmaker game for a long tome now i'd be interested to see someone else's experience with it.

Dravda
2016-09-06, 08:38 PM
Well, that may have been the most entertaining wedding I've ever had the pleasure of attending. Not that I've attended many.

Houses Lebeda and Garess pulled out all the stops in making that a truly luxurious wedding. Hundreds of guests were there: aunts, uncles, second cousins, everybody. There was a jousting event in the afternoon, which went over well. I must remember to work on my horsemanship: no reason I couldn't compete in the next one. How hard can it be?

I spent most of the evening working the room, making friends. The talk of the hall, of course, was the union itself. House Lebeda marrying House Garess? What does a prominent house like Lebeda want with damaged goods?

My opinion, however, is that Lebeda is buying low, knowing that they can secure an alliance now and possibly make something of House Garess' holdings. Dame Sarrona is no fool, and it's an open secret that her elder daughter, Elanna, has been making eyes at the king for quite some time now. It could be that, with him rebuffing her advances, House Lebeda has decided to expand their influence across Brevoy, squeezing the Surtovas until they're ready to make nice.

I made an interesting acquaintance at the ball: a half-elf mage by the name of Cal Longheart ('Cal' is short for something absurdly long; I wasn't particularly paying attention). He started the evening by entertaining some of the younger guests with a magic show, and even managed to impress King Noleski's bratty little nephew, Aleski, by reading his fortune. He seems forthright to the point of naivety, but there's no doubt he has some skill with magic. He's even from Isger, though he seems to recall the place much more fondly than I do.

The other interesting meet was one of House Orlovsky's scions, a wisp of a girl named Ari. I'm not sure quite what she is, but she's certainly not human. Maybe some kind of half-breed, but with what? Certainly worth looking into. Regardless, the girl was following Cal and I around for half the evening, making somewhat awkward conversation when engaged. We spoke briefly, until King Surtova himself arrived.

He came in with some fanfare, followed by his sister, Natala, who looked like she'd just swallowed a lemon. The king himself proved rather jovial, however, and skipped the hand-kissing and introductions in order to get straight into the festivities.

The ceremony itself was cut short, however, when the mage standing next to me noticed a strange hooded figure up in the rafters. Pointing him out to me, I agreed that he looked suspicious, but didn't want to raise an alarm yet (what if it was the king's man?) Muscling my way through the crowd, I pointed him out to the guards, who immediately raised the alarm.

Someone (Cal?) hit the would-be assassin with some kind of toxic gas bullet, and the guards opened fire with hand crossbows, raining arrows down onto the crowd in the process. I took the opportunity to shield a woman and her child from danger (though we were next to the guards and were in no real danger). They were suitably grateful.

The assassin fired a single shot at King Surtova, missing horribly, before using some kind of magic to disappear. At this point, the poison gas was starting to settle back toward the ground, so I opened the doors and began calling for everyone to evacuate. With the assassin at large, the guards fanned out to catch him.

Interestingly, Surtova seemed very relaxed about the entire ordeal, as if assassinations were common enough to not merit a second thought. His sister was furious, however, and wanted the assassin caught. Interesting.

Regardless, Cal assured us that the assassin was gone, not merely invisible. I took up a blade from the guard captain and assisted in the search, but sure enough, our would-be murderer was nowhere to be found.

Still, the event was hardly a loss. My heroics didn't go unappreciated: King Surtova himself introduced himself and thanked me for my aid, asking me to attend the private ceremony that would conclude the wedding. When he shook my hand, he also gave me a sealed letter. More on that later.

After the ceremony (and by the GODS, did it take a long time), I finally had a chance to read the letter he'd given me. Inside was a charter from the king himself to explore a section of the Greenbelt to the south, an area known as the Stolen Lands, and clear it of bandits.

It's an interesting thing to ask, and I believe I know where the king's motives lie. Assassinations are becoming common and the tension in that ballroom was thick enough to cut with a knife: civil war is coming to Brevoy. When it does, the king is going to need every advantage he can get, and that includes a new friendly territory to the south.

So there's my mission. I've already spoken to and recruited Cal Longheart, so I will have a mage supporting me. All I need now is a woodsman to help navigate the area.

Before I could leave, however, the Orlovsky girl cornered me again and asked to go along. I could tell that tensions with her family and the Surtovas were thick, and she seemed anxious to escape the scene for some time. Thus, she offered to accompany me on my expedition.

Initially, I was hesitant. We're going to be exploring a wild frontier, not attending social events, so I don't know how well a soft-bred noble girl will fare, especially one as frail and slender as she. However, she promised that she had talents enough to make herself useful, and even impressed me by revealing a concealed stiletto in her hair that I hadn't noticed.

Whether or not she can pull her weight, bringing her along could net me some good will from House Orlovsky, so I agreed. We will be leaving within the next few days to explore what will, hopefully, be my own barony one day.

Baron Mercer Kingsley. I like the sound of that.

Dravda
2016-09-13, 01:22 AM
Our preparations are finally complete, and my companions and I have departed Silverhall. Ideally, it will take no more than a few days to cross Lake Reykal and reach New Stetven. From there, we'll meet one of the kingdom's provisioners, who will be giving us a cart and mule for the journey. We'll spend the night there before leaving once more: it should take us two weeks or so on the road to reach Oleg's. Time to learn some marching songs.
We've reached New Stetven just fine. We ended up buying passage on a boat: a bit of a luxury, but it made the first leg of the journey quite bearable. I kept myself sane by exercising and reading that holy text of Pharasma's I bought. For a goddess of death, it turned out to be surprisingly dull. I plan to lose it in the city.

The meeting with the king's provisioner went well enough, though I didn't like the chuckle the greasy little man gave us. He gave us only provisions for the journey out: when I asked about the journey back, he actually laughed at me and told me I shouldn't be concerned about that.

My temper flared a bit there, and I bared my fangs a little more than I should have (literally and metaphorically), but my companions didn't seem to take much notice.

So all there is to do now is enjoy our last evening with the luxuries of civilization before we set off into the wilderness.
I write this from our campsite. It's been a long day of traveling, and we still have weeks to go. The mule and cart have been a godsend, though my feet still ache and we all smell of sweat and trail dust. Still, we've managed to get a fire going (between the three of us), so we have that comfort.

The mage is holding up quite well, being a cheerful sort. He has many stories to tell: it seems that his father was some kind of hero in the Goblinblood War. It must be both a blessing and a curse, having such a bold reputation to live up to.

The Orlovsky girl, Lady Ari, surprises me with her resilience. She's hardly raised a word of complaint this entire time, though I insisted that she ride on the cart. Our mule hardly noticed the added weight: the slip of a girl can't possibly weigh more than fifty pounds, even if she were soaking wet. More credence to my theory that she can't possibly be human.

Regardless, I shall turn in for the night. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.
My first entry in over a week. We were attacked by wolves on the path today. Frankly, we're lucky we came through it.

It was a mid-sized pack, must have been a dozen individuals, led by a dire wolf. They were all half-starved, and some of them looked injured already. Lady Ari says that they must be desperate to attack a group of people.

Still, their desperation was dangerous. One of them nearly dragged Lady Ari away, and another went for our mule. We regrouped on the cart, with the wizard firing blasts of magic to drive the wolves off. I ran one through with my sword, which gave the others pause.

The tides really turned, however, when I called down my power to smite the pack alpha. I've been invoking an inevitable to empower me, and my patron is more than willing to assist me in bringing order to this savage place. Unfortunately, it drew some curious looks from the others. They believe me to be a paladin, and I have no desire to correct them.

Regardless, I had little choice. Even empowered as I was, the alpha still got a good bite out of my leg before I managed to bring it down. With it dead, however, the rest of the pack ran off, some of them even feeding on the carcasses of their fallen brethren. They must have been truly desperate.

Adding insult to injury in the aftermath, however, we discovered that the mule had panicked and run off with the cart. It didn't get very far, however, before the cart overturned and broke an axle. With Lady Ari's and my injuries bandaged, we set to repairing the cart, a task at which the noble girl proved surprisingly adept.

Tonight, we have a fire going and are setting a watch for nocturnal intruders. It's clear that we are now far from civilization, and these woods will only get more hostile from here.

Dravda
2016-09-23, 02:31 AM
We have arrived at Oleg's Trading Post, and I'm afraid have already found ourselves knee-deep in another mess.

The trading post itself is smack-dab in the middle of nowhere, with hardly another soul to be found for miles. It appears to have been some kind of military fort back in the day, with wooden palisade walls, watchtowers, and even some crumbling ballistae. The place is run by a woodsman, Oleg, and his wife Svetlana. Oleg seems a gruff and straightforward man, businesslike and terse with us. Svetlana is much more a sweetheart, doting on us and treating us like family. It's fairly clear to me that she needs Oleg to keep her hospitality from being taken advantage of.

There, we met our woodsman, Amarand Fen. A tall elf standing over six feet (though it's an average height for his people), with silver hair in a topknot and intense green eyes. Though he seems to know the area well, he's a sneering elitist, and has already had a few unkind words for my heritage. Though I'm not particularly fond of it myself, I don't care for his tone. I fear the two of us may butt heads in the future if I'm not able to exercise good restraint.

Regardless, the elf seemed somewhat surprised when I presented him the charter but agreed to help us. As we were making plans for our expedition, however, Svetlana was urging Oleg to ask us something. While I kept my own counsel, my companions were eager to offer their services.

Oleg explained that they had been harassed by bandits, who had twice come and extorted them for money and valuables, the first time being three months ago. He explained that they would be back tomorrow for more, and asked for help in driving them off and getting Svetlana's wedding ring back. I don't believe in offering anything free of charge, and so proposed for him to pay us with food and lodging for our expedition. He agreed, and spent some time answering our questions.

He believes that there are as many as twenty bandits in the band, camped to the southwest. They dress in civilian garb appropriate to the area, and prefer shortswords and shortbows, with cheap boiled leather or studded leather being their preferred form of protection. He also described their leaders: a human man and woman, both archers. The woman evidently has a red hand tattooed on her face, and the man keeps his hair neat and short in military style.

With that, they offered me a potion for my leg, free of charge (since I'm so graciously helping to defend them), which left me almost as good as new. With a good night's rest, I should be right as rain. Svetlana, the poor dear, also made us up beds and cooked us a simple but hearty meal.

Our plan, as it stands now, is to feign cooperation with the bandits when they arrive tomorrow, leading them into the fort itself. Once they're inside, Amarand and Cal will bombard them at range with arrows and magic, respectively, while Ari and I close with and destroy them in close combat. I'm nervous about the wispy girl's ability to stand up to a grown man in physical battle, and it would be a shame to lose her (and her family's connections), but she's proven resilient, resourceful, and surprisingly capable so far. We'll just have to see how the battle goes.
Well, what an utter waste of an afternoon. What should have been a simple clean-up operation turned into a day-long wild goose chase, and what frustrates me most of all is that it was all entirely my fault.

We awoke in the morning to a thick bank of fog: we could hardly see a foot in front of our faces. Our fears of our ranged attacks being useless were relieved, however, when we realized that the fog would certainly burn off by the time the bandits arrived in the early afternoon.

Sure enough, the fog was still present, but much fainter by the time they arrived, yelling and whooping. Oleg allowed them inside, and they rode in the front gate on three horses and a horse-drawn cart. Our fool of a host had failed to mention that they traveled on horseback. A force of cavalry is a much different threat than a troop of bandits on foot.

As the bandits' backs were turned, I placed myself in the gate, making a long and flowery speech about how justice had come to them. While all eyes were on me, Amarand had the presence of mind to take advantage of the distraction to shoot their leader in the back. Cal hit him with some kind of magic blast, and Ari darted out from hiding to throw a knife through his throat. He was dead before he fell from his saddle.

With the battle begun decisively in our advantage, I made the critical mistake: instead of barring the gate, I rushed forward to engage the enemy. I overestimated their taste for battle: though I boarded the cart and killed the driver, the other two men spurred their horses and were out of the gate before I could stop them.

So began a day-long chase. Amarand, evidently, has tamed a native moose to accept him as a rider, and took off in hot pursuit. Ari grabbed one of the bandits' horses, and I managed to get the cart turned around to follow them with Cal riding in the back.

The bandits split, one heading south and the other heading southwest. The elf followed the one making a break for their camp, while Cal, Ari, and I followed the other. We needn't have bothered: the fool turned his horse's ankle, suffering a fall that turned his neck. We found his body on the side of the road not a few miles further.

I took the chance to inspect our foes for myself. We appear to be up against run-of-the-mill rabble: no tattoos or tribal markings, fairly poor grooming, and few scars marking a veteran fighter. He did appear reasonably well-fed, however, and brought two days' rations with him, rather than hunt or forage as he traveled, suggesting to me that they are not starving by any means.

By the time we caught up with Amarand, he had already captured, interrogated, and executed his quarry. He informed us that the rest of their gang was stationed at the Thorn Ford, some twenty miles away. Evidently, the ford is the only safe place to cross the Thorn River, which is otherwise quite fast and dangerous.

Deciding to turn back and launch the expedition in the morning when we were fresh, we returned to the trading post with the bodies of the fallen in tow. There, we found Oleg defacing the bodies and trying to mount them from the walls, but he shrank away when I ordered him to stop. Those who live by the sword must honor those who die by the sword. I owed them that much, at least. We spent the rest of the day burying the fallen.

The only interesting thing on any of the bandits was carried by their leader: a silver amulet bearing the likeness of a nymph. The mage explains that it may be magical, perhaps the key to some kind of magic lock. We elected to hold onto it.

Tomorrow, we launch our expedition to root out the rest of these bandits. Since they are a day and a half's ride, we should be able to get there before they have become too suspicious of their missing fellows.
Unusual display last night. We found a circle of standing stones near our campsite, but gave them no thought other than to avoid them. Amarand roused us in the middle of the night to behold some kind of strange fey ritual. They were dancing and playing some kind of eerie music, all misty shapes and haunting melodies. Cal translated it this morning, and its meaning was equally unsettling: something about the death of a king, a “Queen Geb” and a thousand years of winter or something similar.

We quickly put it out of our mind, however, as we had bigger fish to fry. The bandits were camped only three hours' ride from our campsite, and we made haste there. On my instructions, Cal and I set up a site from which to ambush our foes. Amarand and Ari would go forward to observe the enemy at their camp: Ari would report back to us while Amarand would begin sniping to drop a few before drawing them back to us.

It worked nearly perfectly. When the bandits came back, they came stumbling in single-file and out-of-breath, prime targets for the picking. Amarand personally killed a half-dozen, with his well-placed shots finding their marks in throats and chests. The only one who posed a threat was their leader, the woman with the red hand tattoo on her face, but after Amarand weakened her with a few shots, I was able to subdue her with a well-placed sword stroke.

I have been praying to the forces of Law of late, and have been rewarded with empowerment by an inevitable. So long as I pay lip service to honoring their ridiculous restrictions and goals, they will continue to bolster me. It was through their inspiration that I was able to easily smite the bandit leader, though she did manage to land a single well-placed shot to my shoulder.

The Orlovsky girl fought well in the battle. Though I've had my reservations, she has proven to be adaptable and surprisingly bloodthirsty, slitting throats without so much as a flicker of remorse. She may be an even more useful pawn than I'd thought, and certainly not as much of a liability as I'd feared.

After the fight, we were able to stabilize the leader and three of her cohorts. The rest of the bandits, unfortunately, were killed in the fighting, more's the pity. I'd hoped to have a large number of them grateful to me for my mercy in sparing them.

The bandit leader, Kressle, was quite talkative and seems to have no particular fondness for her betters. These bandits are not, in fact, the extent of the outlaw problem in the area. This warband is only one of four answering to a bandit leader known as the Stag Lord. This Stag Lord appeared only six months ago, and is recruiting bandits from a ruined fort or somesuch to the south. He is rumored to be a ranger exiled from his clan, but what is clear is the fear the other bandits hold of him. He pockets sixty percent of his followers' gains, letting them keep the rest and enforcing order through fear.

The other three warbands are led by his other lieutenants: a large bully named Ox, a half-elf named Doven, and a mysterious newcomer named Akiros, who has evidently gained the Stag Lord's favor. Akiros is to the west, based out of some kind of temple, and Doven in the plains to the east at a toll bridge. It seems the Stag Lord's entire territory ranges some fifty miles across.

We also divvied up the spoils of war, taking food rations as Amarand laid claim to Kressle's well-made bow for himself. She also had a matching nymph amulet like the one the other bandit leader had carried. I offered token condolences for her loss, which she seemed to appreciate.

With that done, we held a vote on the fate of our prisoners. While we were unanimous in our decision to spare the lower-ranking bandits (all of us seeing some use in them), I voted with Amarand to execute Kressle. Cal and Ari disagreed, however, and I refused to carry out an execution without a majority consensus. Rules are, after all, what make us better than these savages.

While I believe Ari and Cal are somewhat naïve to forgive Kressle's crimes (especially seeing as how she was in a leadership position herself), being denied his bloodlust drove Amarand nearly insane with rage. He snarled, threatened, and postured, though of course was ultimately cowed by my cold rebuttal that I wouldn't execute anyone without the majority of my companions agreeing. I could tell that the elf was considering just murdering our prisoner then and there, but evidently still wishes to remain among us.

All this puts me in quite the favorable position. While I will need to tread carefully to keep Amarand pointed in the right direction (mad dog that he is), Ari and Cal seemed quite grateful to me, as did Kressle. It can't have escaped her dim notice that I am directly responsible for sparing her life, as I could quite easily have given the elf tacit permission to kill her. Still, despite being her benefactor, my vote was not one of mercy, so she must know that keeping in my good graces is the key to a long life.

Kressle is a survivor, I can tell that much. She would have starved if she weren't vicious enough to turn to banditry. She would have faced horrible degradation at the hands of the Stag Lord's bandits if she hadn't been tough enough to dissuade them. Further, I can sense no strong moral leanings in her, and she even seems somewhat contrite for her actions. She is simply doing what she must to stay alive. This can be turned to my advantage...so long as she continues to believe that keeping me happy is the best hope for her survival.

After I allowed myself the magnanimous gesture of permitting our prisoners to retrieve their personal effects from their camp, we led them back to Oleg's trading post. What we will do with them there, I still have not yet decided.

Kane0
2016-09-23, 04:23 AM
We sent our prisoners to the world wound, but we weren't as... pragmatic as Mercer :P

Dravda
2016-09-30, 01:35 AM
Haha, that's certainly...one way to punish them for their crimes.

After several days on the road, we are finally back to the relative comfort and safety of Oleg's. I've just had a nice, hot bath, and am sitting down to pen this entry by candlelight before I turn in.

The journey back took several times longer than it should have, since we didn't have mounts enough for our prisoners and they were forced to walk. We elected to bring Kressle and her henchmen with us, and so far they haven't made us regret that decision. Even when unshackled, they were meek and cooperative with us the entire time.

Last night was an interesting experience: we were ambushed by some kind of trickster in the middle of the night. I suspect fey of some kind: the woods are known to be their home. Regardless, Lady Orlovsky had a mustache painted onto her face as she slept, and I discovered the words “kick me” written in Sylvan on the back of my mail. We never did catch the little prankster.

Yesterday's travel was interesting, as well. We encountered kobold tracks, which of course Amarand wanted to go haring after, looking for bloodshed. He was impatient when I reminded him that we already had a task, and that the kobolds would surely keep for another day. He seems to hate kobolds in particular, I'd do well to keep that in mind.

Later in the day, the others spotted a unicorn off in the distance, though I never caught sight of it. Amarand and Lady Orlovsky went chasing after it, but returned hours later, disappointed. This untamed countryside certainly holds no shortage of marvels.

We awoke this morning to an unpleasant rainstorm, battering us as we traveled. I at least was riding on our cart: our captives had it the worst, forced to walk. Still, we found some wild radishes and Amarand shot us a hare, and we managed to get a fire going at lunchtime to cook a hearty stew, which brightened everyone's mood. Even so, we were all happy to be back at Oleg's and off the road.

Oleg was not terribly happy to see us, however. He certainly wanted to see Kressle swing for what she and hers had put him through, but Svetlana talked him down. In the end, we offered the bandits a choice: they could head north with the understanding that we would kill them if we saw them again, or they could stay at help out at the outpost. Two of the bandits took us up on the offer of amnesty, while Kressle and her final minion elected to stay. I noticed that the bandit who stayed did so to remain with Kressle: perhaps he's nursing an unrequited love?

Regardless, I would call that outing an unmitigated success. We have routed the bandits and even netted a couple of workers from the bargain. I don't know what Oleg will have them doing to earn their keep, but anything's better than them just going to waste by senselessly killing them.

Tomorrow, I shall have a discussion with my team as to where we should be going next. My inclination is to strike out at the other bandit encampments, hopefully weakening this 'Stag Lord' fellow in preparation for bringing him to justice.
A quiet day today spent in camp: everyone seemed to need the rest, so we won't be leaving until tomorrow.

The trading post has a little more traffic through, and I took a look at a few of the bounties posted on the board. Despite my wishes, the group is quite interested in the reports of kobolds, as well as the generous reward for dealing with them. The posting was not specific on whether or not they wanted the kobolds dead: despite my disdain for the scaled rats, I would rather have them as our allies than our enemies. Their knowledge of the area could prove useful to our efforts, especially if they are willing to join forces with us against the Stag Lord.

In the end, we decided to make our way to the kobolds' warren, though Amarand seems unconvinced that we should attempt diplomacy before wiping the creatures out. I'll have to keep an eye on him to ensure that he stays in line.

Today's most interesting event, however, was the arrival of a minor noble with a host of mercenaries. Kesten Garess, a minor lord of distant relation to Howlan Garess of the Golden Harts, led the band. From what I know of Kesten, he was exiled from polite society after he was found shagging a commoner...man.

Still, he seems a reasonable enough fellow, though he was surprisingly cagey about his employer. A few flirtatious words, however, soon had him talking. Even he is unsure who hired him: Houses Lebeda, Medvyed, and Garess are all possible. His orders, however, are to secure the area against unrest...much like we're doing.

I don't like this: someone is attempting to undercut us, and if they are successful, the opportunity gained from doing this job could be squandered. I'll need to find some way to subvert Kesten's mission...or else bring him into the fold.

One thing is for sure, however. I can sense strong moral leanings in Kesten, which means the man is not to be trusted.

Dravda
2016-10-04, 03:20 AM
I'm going to kill him. I'm actually going to kill him.

Today, as we set off to find the kobolds' lair, we encountered a group of them in a patch of moon radishes. Svetlana claimed to need some and is willing to pay quite handsomely for their procurement. We weren't the only ones with that idea: we found four kobolds already on the scene, having gorged themselves beyond being able to move.

Without warning, Amarand let loose an arrow and killed one!

We cried out in dismay, but it was far too late to stop him. We managed to restrain the idiot elf from doing any more damage, and even stopped the kobolds before they could get very far.

I was livid, and both Cal and Lady Orlovsky were in shock. Savage primitives though the kobolds may be, there was no call for unprovoked murder, ESPECIALLY when we are attempting to make peace with them. The idiot ranger may have jeopardized our entire expedition.

The surviving kobolds didn't speak a word of Common, but luckily Cal speaks enough Draconic to be able to question them as I debated our options. I half-considered finishing the job: executing our three prisoners would ensure that word of our unprovoked attack didn't reach the kobold settlement ahead of our arrival. However, I suspect that the others believe me to be some kind of paladin, and such a display of violence would challenge that useful assumption.

Luckily, Cal seemed to be able to convince them that we were agents of their primitive deity. He showed them one of the more peculiar pieces of loot we took from Kressle's group: a strange carving of some kind of reptilian deity. Cal says he believes it to be some kind of devil, which Amarand took to be evidence in favor of his insanely idiotic attack.

In the end, the wizard managed to convince the kobolds to point us in the direction of their camp. They seemed cowed by us, so perhaps demonstrating both the capacity for and willingness to commit violence will work out in our favor.

But if Amarand risks our purpose ever again, I'll do whatever I must with him. I've come too far for my grand destiny to be undermined by some idiot elf with a grudge. No limits, no regrets.
Quiet day of travel. Amarand has been toeing the line: I think he knows how close he came to being kicked off the team. I'm not sure what he hopes to gain from helping us, but it's clear he has a broader interest in the Stolen Lands beyond this expedition.

The only event of note today was the strange cave system we found. It appeared to have been naturally-formed, presenting as a crack in the ground big enough to fit a man into, and widening into a 30-foot-wide subterranean cave. Amarand and Lady Orlovsky rappelled down to investigate, but found nothing of note. We shall have to watch where we step: these caves could present sinkhole hazards, or possibly even nesting places for monsters.
Almost died today. Can't die. Too far to go. No limits, no regrets.

I heard a bear prowling around the camp while I was on watch last night, but I scared it off by yelling. Today, whilst investigating cart tracks off our path, we encountered a wrecked cart with the very same bear guarding it.

The beast was massive and fierce, and though I did my best to threaten it away, it did not back down from a confrontation with me. Before I knew it, the beast knocked me down, claws tearing at my flesh as fangs sought my throat.

The others hit it with everything they had, and were luckily able to bring it down before it finished me off, though its weight nearly crushed me when it died. I have discovered that my faith in and loyalty to myself is being rewarded with ever greater power. Through force of ego, I can imitate some pale mockery of a true holy warrior's abilities, including the ability to heal wounds.

Staunching the bleeding and mending my torn flesh through sheer force of will, I got back to my feet and into character for the team before they realized anything was amiss. Altogether, however, it was a dangerously close call that I don't care to repeat.

Beside the overturned cart, we found the body of the owner, dead for days now. Sheltered in the cart was a bear cub, which Amarand promptly adopted. We also found a shipment of trade goods, including a dingy but quite serviceable set of banded mail armor, as well as a finely-made steel shield. These two items I took for myself, though they will need cleaning and repainting. My chainmail had become rather tiresome, anyway.

nweismuller
2016-10-04, 03:45 AM
I'm curious if you have a character sheet for Mercer we can look at. And I'm very curious if he's actually being empowered by 'faith in himself' as he seems to think, or if he actually is still acting all unawares as a paladin of Asmodeus. (My personal suspicion is the latter, frankly.)

Dravda
2017-02-24, 09:12 PM
I live!

It's been nearly four months since my last post. Conflicting schedules that delayed our games, some conflicts within the game itself, and my own procrastination have led to me getting horribly behind with this log. This is a catch-up post, and your regularly-scheduled Kingmaker will proceed from here.

It's been a busy month, and I have been neglecting this journal. I shall endeavor to right that wrong now.

The kobold issue has been resolved satisfactorily. We made contact with the kobolds, arranging a bargain with their shaman. The shaman, Tartuk, was evidently a polymorphed dwarf who had been exiled from his own people for his new form. He offered to stage a coup for us, provided that we dealt with an infestation of hostile fey called “mites” nearby.

The fighting was fierce, and I was badly wounded in the process, but we came through. Tartuk poisoned the kobold chieftain, “Chief Sootscale,” and installed his own leadership. Hopefully, he will be more receptive to civilization in the future.

Around that time, we were attacked in the night by a werewolf. Being that we were caught by surprise and unarmored, Amarand and I were both bitten. Though we administered (poisonous) wolfsbane, we discovered last night that Amarand has contracted the sickness. Thankfully, I remain well.

Amarand's condition will be interesting moving forward. He doesn't seem to have grasped the full implications yet, but he will surely be exiled from his own people for it. Though Cal and Lady Orlovsky seem surprisingly accepting of him and his new condition, I made it a point to remind him that my support is far from a guarantee. I made some noise about him being a danger to others, as well as some nonsense about my “patrons” taking issue with him.

The point is, of course, to make him grateful to me and dependent on me when I continue to support him. He has lost so much, it should be obvious to him that I am his only protector. A tamed beast like Amarand could be very useful to keep around.

Back to the events of the last month. We have discovered what keeps the local economy flowing: the trade of the illegal substance known as “muse.” Refined from moon-radishes, muse bestows hallucinations that may or may not reflect the future. Though it may be useful, it appears to be addictive and I am thus endeavoring to avoid it. Trying it once was fun, but any more we capture in the future should be sold.

We did indeed capture a large supply upon raiding a bandit camp, and furthermore we managed to destroy a rather large moon-radish farm. Run by the bandit lieutenant Dovan, it was kept by a staff of slaves. Upon liberating them and killing the leader, the remaining bandits fled. We spent some time harvesting what radishes we could, then burned and salted the rest. The Stag Lord should feel that hit to his income.

Our latest expedition was to assassinate the bandit lieutenant known as Akiros. He and his men are holed up in an abandoned temple of some kind, which they are using as a refinery for muse. Cal and I attempted to disguise ourselves as bandits and walk in the front door, but things almost went awry when we were recognized. Thankfully, Akiros and his men seem to hold no particular loyalty to the Stag Lord, and offered a parley.

With their assistance, we should have a much easier time taking down the Stag Lord. Furthermore, he has informed us that the Stag Lord is receiving assistance from one of the noble houses in Brevoy, in the form of convicts sent to be his recruits. This explains where the bandits in the area are coming from, and I may be able to send King Surtova a letter to get some pressure on that end. With my team and Akiros attacking the Stag Lord from one side, his reinforcements cut off from the other, and his income crippled, we are in a quite credible position to bring down the Stag Lord once and for all. The only concern remaining is the possibility of his rumored supernatural powers...

Once this Stag Lord is brought to justice, however, we will be in full possession of all his drug manufacturing capability. That could make us quite wealthy, indeed.

One final note is Kesten Garess and his men. Their presence is increasing, with more and more of them every time we come to Oleg's. I fear that they may be taking position to edge us out: we do the heavy lifting of killing the Stag Lord, and then they take control of the area once we've done so. This cannot be allowed to happen.

But I already have a plan for them...

I will append this entry with the last development of interest: we have decided on a name for our expedition, at last. Claiming legitimacy through Lady Orlovsky's presence, we are the Orlovsky Expedition.


I'm curious if you have a character sheet for Mercer we can look at. And I'm very curious if he's actually being empowered by 'faith in himself' as he seems to think, or if he actually is still acting all unawares as a paladin of Asmodeus. (My personal suspicion is the latter, frankly.)

He is actually an antipaladin, with the insinuator archetype. We've done some houseruling to make the insinuator a LITTLE more viable, since it's fairly underpowered, but the class itself is amazingly flavorful. My favorite part, so far, is the "detect balance" ability. Detecting whether or not someone is NEUTRAL is an amazingly flavorful ability, since it still leaves a lot of interpretation that must be done when someone comes up as NOT neutral.