# Kingmaker: Stormvale



## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

Hey everyone.  I've been running a heavily customized kingmaker campaign for about 9 months now, and it has turned out so well that I decided to start posting the adventure log here.

You can cheat and read ahead here, but be warned that the obsidian portal log is posted with little editing and little thought to making it comprehensible to people who aren't playing the game.  I correct these things before posting them here.  Also the Obsidian Portal site is LOADED with spoilers.  Clicking on one of the character pages below leads to a massive one.

*Characters*

*Asta-   *Half-elf   Summoner
*Dante-* Human   Paladin
*Meric-*  Human   Sorcerer
*Siv-   *   Half-elf   Druid  (props to Greg for making a non Charisma based character for Kingmaker)


*Changes from Default King Maker*

I list this in great detail in this thread of my Obsidian Portal site.  A quick summary would be:

1) I find D&D 3.5 to have a more elegant and intuitive layout of the  outer planes.  So I’m using it instead of the official Pathfinder one.   I’m also far more familiar with the D&D 3.5 deities, and don’t find many of the Golarion ones to be all that impressive.  So I use hybrid of the 3.5 and pathfinder deities.  If you are wondering why this is so important to a Kingmaker campaign...stay tuned.

2) Racial alignments are just bizarre.  The notion that a guy is  objectively evil by default regardless of his actions just doesn’t sit  right.  So for this campaign I’m experimenting with some house rules on  alignment.  They primarily affect the group’s paladin Dante.  We are  treating all mortals as morally neutral for alignment purposes.  If a  person commits an evil act, it taints their aura with evil for a time.   Murder and rape are the types of crimes that can have a lasting impact,  but even those auras fade with time.  Basically if the paladin detects evil on a mortal, that person has  committed a terrible act relatively recently.  It makes them smitable  and vulnerable to all of the types of spells that would affect a person  of evil alignment.  Creatures like demons are of course always radiating evil because they are literally manifestations of evil.

3) A number of mechanical changes that don't really matter for the purposes of a story hour.


*Note on Format*

As I started the write ups, I found I was consistently presenting each scene from one characters perspective.  Rather than run from it, I went full ASOIAF.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

[h=2]*Stolen Land:  Part 1

Siv*[/h] “Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by  the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority  vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale  Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the  wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration should be limited  to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west and sixty  miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should  also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be  encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always,  execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this 24th day of Calistril,  under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by  Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne.”


 Siv couldn’t help but be a little annoyed as she read the charter.   As if she needed the piece of paper to return to her home.  The idea of  applying for permission to settle the land had offended her at first.   But Restov seemed determined to take the Stolen Lands, and she feared  for the future of the wild places if they did not have an advocate among  the ranks of the settlers.  She also knew driving off the bandits who  had come to infest the Narlmarches would take more than herself and  Barry.


 Still, she was surprised the Sword Lords had selected her at all.  It  must have been her knowledge of the greenbelt that tipped the balance  in her favor.  She may have exaggerated just a bit as to exactly what  she remembered.  No one had specifically asked her how many years since  or old she was when she last resided there.  It wasn’t strictly a lie,  and humans never could guess her age correctly anyway.


 Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a girl holding a charter  identical to hers.  The girl wore a hood that covered her ears, but from  her slender wiry build Siv could see she was a half-elf.


 “I believe we are looking for each other.”  Siv said while holding her own charter up for the girl to see. 

As she approached, Siv guessed the girl to be in her early twenties,  though most humans likely mistook her for 15 or 16.  She had deep, dark  blue eyes that revealed an experience and sadness that most so young do  not endure.


 The girl spoke as she lowered her hood.  “I’m Asta.  It’s…good to meet you.”


 It was obvious to Siv that Asta did not frequently engage in  conversations.  She could make out a faint glow emanating from behind  Asta’s long reddish-blonde hair.


 “I’m Sivileana, you can just call me Siv.  Do you know how many  others we are waiting on?  They didn’t even tell me how many of us were  being sent into the Greenbelt.”


 “Four.” The voice came from a man who was standing behind her.  She  turned to see a human with long black hair and blue eyes.  He was  dressed in leather armor and carried a sword at his side.  She guessed  him to also be in his early twenties.  He bowed formally to both her and  Asta and introduced himself as Meric Thorn.  He carried himself like a  noble, his speech and mannerisms seemed too formal for an adventurer.   She wondered if he had earned his place in the party by way of merit, or  a rich father.


 “Where is our fourth then?”  Siv was anxious to get on the road, and  she didn’t like leaving Barry alone outside the city for so long.


 “He is on his way.  I met him earlier, a paladin of Kord.  He  seemed….eager.  And tenacious.”  Meric seemed to have chosen his words  quite diplomatically.


 Siv restrained herself from showing outward frustration.  The thought  of a paladin droning on and on about his deity wearied her.  The gods  could be relied on for one thing, not showing up when you need them.   She hoped this paladin was the rare kind who had taken a vow of silence.


 Meric spoke again “There is our friend now.”  He raised his voice a bit to catch the paladin’s attention “Dante.”


 Siv nearly lost it.  This one couldn’t be 18 yet.  He was a tall lad,  6’ 2” built thick with short brown hair.  She couldn’t help but wonder  what this child could possibly have done to impress the Sword Lords  enough to warrant granting him a charter.  He approached with a smile  that reached from ear to ear.


 “Friends!  Are you prepared to purify the stolen lands of evil?  Kord smiles upon our noble quest!”


 Siv turned away and rolled her eyes.  This was going to be a long walk.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 1*

[h=2]*Dante*[/h] 
Dante could not recall being this excited in his entire life.  He  tried to maintain a serious demeanor as his new companions were, but he  couldn’t help but smile.  Traveling with a group of heroes to test his  might against those who prey upon the innocent had been his dream since  he was a small boy.

 He found himself slightly envious of Meric, who was the only one of  the group who had a horse.  He thought it spoke well of the man that he  had chosen to walk and lead his horse, rather than riding easily while  the others were forced to travel on foot.

 He definitely needed a horse.  It’s just something that a proper  paladin had.  He wished he had the money to buy one before setting off,  but all he had went into the materials for his armor and weapon.  He had  only a few coins to his name.  Had he not been a blacksmith and able to  make them himself, he would not have been able to afford even that.   The scalemail had turned out well, but it wasn’t the gleaming plate he  had always pictured himself wearing when he thought about heading off on  adventures.

As they continued to walk, Siv raised her hands to her mouth and made  an unusual animal sound.  From the trees nearby, a smaller sized bear  emerged and began running towards the group.  Dante immediately reached  for his warhammer, and prepared to defend his new friends.


 “Easy there Dante.”  He felt Meric’s hand on his shoulder.  Dante  turned to face him.  “She’s a druid, while she’s around most animals are  friendly.”

Sure enough as he turned back around, Dante could see Siv embrace the bear and pet him lovingly.


“This is Barry.  He’ll be joining us.”  Siv’s calmness eased Dante’s nerves.


“Heh, Barry.  You named the bear Barry.  That’s funny.” Dante could  see Siv’s eyes narrow as she looked at him. She sighed, stood and  continued walking.


Asta spoke up for the first time since Dante had arrived “This is  probably a good time for me to go get another companion we will have  along for the journey…please don’t be startled when you see him.  Keep  going, I’ll catch up.” With that Asta headed off into the nearby forest.  Dante was  confused.  What’s more startling than a bear?  Meric seemed to know the  others better than he did.  “Is she a druid also?”


“I don’t think so.  I’m not sure what she can do to be perfectly honest.”  Meric seemed every bit as curious as Dante was.


They continued traveling for several minutes before hearing Asta call  to them.  Dante turned, and saw something far more startling than a  bear.  Asta strode up to the group with a white sabertooth tiger at her  side.  The beast was enormous.  Dante swallowed hard as it walked right  in front of him.  He had seen pictures of them, but he never imagined  them to be so large.  This animal could rend a man in two with little  difficulty.  Asta began scratching the fur between it’s ears.


“This is Skydd.  He’s sort of my body guard.  Don’t worry, he won’t hurt anyone unless I tell him to.”


Dante noticed Asta’s face turn to one of sudden concern.


“I mean…I wouldn’t tell him to hurt any of you.  I’d only tell him to attack enemies.  Like the bandits we are after.“


She looked mortified.  It didn’t seem like she was good at talking to  people.  Dante tried to think of something funny to say to break the  tension of the moment, but Meric beat him to it.


“I doubt he’ll have to hurt anyone, one look at him and the bandits  with soil themselves and flee the Greenbelt forever.  Don’t worry Asta,  we trust you know what you’re doing.  Now let’s get moving, the journey  ahead is long.” Meric’s manner was warm and 

Asta seemed to relax.


Already in just a half a day’s walk, they were further west of Restov  than Dante had ever been.  He knew they would follow the road west for a  couple of days, but didn’t know their exact destination.  “Where  exactly are we headed first Meric?”


“A trading post just north of the Greenbelt. It’s owned by a fur  trader named Oleg.  We can get a room for the night before heading into  the wilderness and inquire for any information on bandit activity.  With  luck, in just a few weeks we can secure and map the area.  Then Restov  will approve funds for a colonization effort.”  Meric seemed to have the  entire thing planned out.  Dante was glad somebody did.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 1*[h=2]*Asta*[/h]
Asta would not have pegged the building in front of her as a trading  post.  It had clearly been a fort at one time.  Ten foot high wooden  palisade walls, with four fifteen foot towers rising from its corners.   It was late in the evening and she was exhausted.  She hoped its beds  were more inviting then its exterior.


 Oleg’s wife Svetlana was very welcoming.  She had prepared a stew and  freshly baked bread for them. She also opened a bottle of wine.  Oleg  himself seemed preoccupied with fixing a small hole in the roof.  Asta  suspected he was just trying to look busy.  As the group sat down to  eat, Oleg made his way down the ladder and approached the group.


 “So you’re the ones who are going to solve our bandit problem?” Oleg was sweaty and gruff.


 Asta would normally wait for others to reply, but Dante already had a  mouth full of stew, and Meric and Siv seemed to be considering his  words for a tad too long.


 Asta spoke up “Have the bandits caused you trouble here?”


 Oleg’s expression changed to one of barely constrained rage.   Profanity began spewing from his mouth with no coherent structure as he  threw his hands up in the air.  Svetlana seemed embarrassed by her  husband’s display, and quickly interjected.


 “So you weren’t sent to defend the trading post from the bandits?  We  sent letters to Restov weeks ago and they finally replied that they  were sending someone to protect us.”


 Meric replied.   “We have been sent to fight banditry where ever we  find it.  We were just unaware that you had been harassed by them.   Certainly we will aid you.”


 Svetlana breathed a huge sigh of relief. She began recounting the  circumstances of the bandit’s initial shakedowns.  They first visited  three months ago—they threatened to burn down the trading post and  abduct Svetlana for their own amusements back at their camp if the  Levetons didn’t agree to hand over all of the furs and trade goods  they’d accumulated over the past month.  Asta could clearly see fear in  the woman’s eyes.  The helpless feeling one gets when they are being  encircled by predators.  A rage burned inside her. 

“Since then, the bandits have returned twice more, each time within  an hour of sunrise on the first day of the month.” Svetlana explained.


 The group met eyes simultaneously.  The bandits would arrive in just a  few hours.  Dante’s expression went serious.  He spoke with a  conviction that surprised Asta.  “We won’t let them hurt you again  Svetlana.  I promise you they will pay for what they’ve done.”


 The plan fell together quickly.  Oleg suggested the group hide in the  stables and wait until the bandits begin loading the fur onto their  horses before launching a surprise attack.  Everyone except Dante agreed  with the plan.  He insisted on facing them head on.  Ultimately, the  group relented and agreed that he could stay in the building to distract  the bandits, while the others hit them from behind.


 Asta was tense as they sat peering out from the cracks in the boards  at the stable.  And when she was tense, Skydd was tense.  He paced back  and forth peering out in the same direction as Asta, as if impatiently  waiting for the threat to manifest.  Asta looked over to see Barry was  not so tense.  He was on his back, pawing at Siv’s leg, trying to get  her attention.  Siv was trying to focus, but eventually relented and  began to rub Barry’s belly.  His leg began to kick like a dog’s.  It was  a sad reminder of what Skydd wasn’t.  In all her years of traveling  with him, he had never shown any personal wants or needs.  His only  purpose seemed to be the protection of Asta.  Even when he would come  close to be pet, Asta could tell he was doing it for her benefit, not  his own.  She knew he wasn’t a regular animal, but it made her feel even  more isolated that her only real companion through the years didn’t  need her the same way she needed him.

Skydd began to let out a low growl.  The group looked and saw five  men on horseback approaching the trading post.  Their bandits had  arrived right on schedule.  As they reached the door, the man at the  front began to shout.  “Oleg! Open up or we’ll burn your ass out!  Maybe  some fire will get your fat ass moving!”  The men all laughed.  Another  piped in “Maybe Svetlana will open the door for us!  I’m sure she’s  desperate for some real men to show her a good time!” They all burst  into laughter.


 Asta was enraged.  These weren’t men.  They were wolves.  The door to  the trading post opened, and all five bandits dismounted.  Three  entered, while the other two remained outside with the horses.  The  moment to strike was now.  She began to Stand, but Meric put a hand on  her shoulder to keep her down.  She gave him a confused look.

He reached out with one hand and gestured towards the bandits.  He  spoke a word quietly that Asta did not recognize, and suddenly she heard  the sound of a rattlesnake near the two bandits.  The horses panicked.   The two men were unprepared and lost their hold on the reigns.  They  were now completely distracted.  Meric gave Asta and Siv a nod.


Skydd and Barry lept into action, closing the distance between  themselves and the bandits in no time.  In an instant both men lay dead.   The blood was everywhere.  Asta leapt up and sprinted for the door.   Dante would not last long alone against three bandits.


The fighting was intense but ended quickly.  The bandits were not  prepared for an attack from numerous opponents from behind.  One of the  men managed to strike a deap wound in Skydd’s neck.  With a thought,  Asta took much of the damage onto herself.  She immediately began  coughing up blood and doubled over in pain.  The last of the bandits  made a run for it, only to be chased down by Skydd.  He showed the man  no mercy.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 1*

[h=2]*Meric*[/h] 

Things were not going as smoothly as Meric had hoped.  The past few  days since killing the bandits at Oleg’s had been challenging to say the  least.  It all started well enough.  Oleg had given the group good  reason to think that the bandits made their camp less than a day’s ride  from the trading post, somewhere in the Narlmarches.

 Each day they would section off a twelve mile by twelve mile area,  and search it thoroughly.  The entire group had horses now thanks to the  bandits, which made things far easier than it would otherwise be.  But  the terrain was difficult, and each day seemed to present some new  challenge or annoyance.  Meric had made specific note that the Skunk  River definitely earned its name.

 But this day had topped them all.  Asta lay on the ground bleeding  profusely from a wound inflicted by a bear trap.  Siv healed her, but  they hadn’t been able to save Skydd.  He fell victim to one and to  everyone’s shock except Asta, his body vanished upon death.  She  promised to explain later.

 They had managed to wander half way through this seemingly quiet  glade before triggering a trap.  A quick look around revealed they were  everywhere.  Many were extraordinarily well hidden.

 Siv was furious. “At this rate they will drive every animal from this  part of Narlmarches.  No one can use this much meat and fur anyway!”

 Meric was inclined to agree that this was excessive.  But he was more  concerned about how they were all going to pass without losing legs.   He tried to focus the party.   “We need a safe way out of this area.   Any suggestions?”

 Dante spoke up.  “We could have Barry lead the way.”

 Siv shot daggers at him with her stare.  “They are BEAR traps.  Traps designed to catch BEARS.  I’m not sending my BEAR first.”

 Meric interrupted before things got out of hand.  “Siv, you have eyes  like a hawk.  If we move slowly and follow you, do you think you could  lead us out safely?”

 Siv grabbed a walking stick and nodded.  The group followed in single  file.  She intentionally set off a few traps with her stick on the way  back.  Once they exited the glade, Meric looked at his companions’ eyes  and saw exhaustion and frustration.  He felt it too.  They were dirty  and tired and needed a rest.  Little more good could come from pushing  the search tomorrow.

 “Let’s take a break.  We’ll go back to Oleg’s and get some rest and a  bath.  The bandits will keep one more day.”  The others nodded weakly.   Meric knew the Greenbelt was the worst assignment of the four regions  of the stolen lands.  It offered the least in terms of natural  resources, and sat on no important trade routes.  It was also the most  dangerous.  The more experienced and influential adventurers were given  the better locations.  Carving a nation out of this area would be  nigh-impossible.  But there was no other way.   He needed an army at his  back when he returned home.

 Once the group had reached safety, Asta went off a short distance  from the others.  Meric watch with some fascination as the rune on her  forehead began to glow.  Magic coalesced in front of her.  Skydd  appeared before her, as healthy as ever. He was clearly a summoned  creature, but Meric had never encountered one that could remain on this  plane indefinitely.  What kind of spell caster was she?  The rest of the  trip back to Oleg’s was uneventful.

 Meric had harbored some fear that while they were out searching for  the bandits, some would return to Oleg’s searching for their missing  comrades and burn the place to the ground.  But everything was in order  upon their return.  Unlike their first visit however, the trading post  had a number of new faces.  Meric took particular note of a man in full  plate armor who sat a nearby table with three other men he clearly  commanded.

 Oleg gave a shout from across the building.  “My friends welcome  back!  I’ve been telling our new guests about how you dealt with those  foul bandits.”  At this, the man in armor stood and made his way over to  the group and introduced himself.

 “I am Kesten Garess.  My men and I have been sent to secure the  trading post.  A job that I am told has been made easier do to your  efforts.  I wish that I could join you in the wilderness in order to  track down these brigands.  But my orders are to remain here and keep  the trading post and road safe.”

 Meric was sure he had heard the name before, but could not place it  exactly.  This man was a noble, but this assignment was beneath one.    He wondered what enemy Kesten had made to be dumped in the Greenbelt.
 He shook the man’s hand.  “It is an honor Kesten.  It gladdens me to  know you are here to keep the one spec of civilization out here intact.”   He turned to Oleg. “My friends and I are in need of some rest Oleg, do  you have 4 beds available?”

 Oleg smiled.  “Of course! Right this way.”

 Meric was practically asleep before his head hit the pillow.  He  dreamed of two thrones.  The one he would forge in the coming months and  the one he would eventually reclaim.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

[h=2]*Stolen Land:  Part 2
**
Siv*[/h] Siv was relieved when they came upon the bandit camp on the banks of  the Thorn River.  It meant that the two men they had killed a few  minutes earlier upstream were definitely bandits.  There had been some  debate on this point when they came upon them.  Each bandit they had  encountered so far had been somewhat differently equipped.  They wore no  uniforms for easy identification.  Dante had insisted one of them had  an aura of evil, but such distinctions meant little to Siv.  He wanted  to ride out and kill both men without so much as speaking a word.


 Meric had managed to convince him to stay back while he rode out and  asked the men to identify themselves.  Asta ordered Skydd to circle  around quietly in case the men attempted to flee.  They did.  Skydd and  Barry chased them down in short order.


 Siv tracked the men’s orginal path down the river until they found  the camp.  She counted five, and quietly pointed them out to the group.


 “Six” Asta said as she pointed to one Siv had not seen in the trees.   They began to formulate a plan to stealthily take out one or two before  engaging the main group.  But as they prepared to move out quietly,  Dante slipped while attempting to mount his horse, and tumbled into the  nearby water.  The splash left stealth off the table.  Siv let out a  sigh.


 Shouts emanated from the camp “Up maggots, we have intruders!  I want  their heads on spikes!”  Meric moved quickly to the west to deal with  one hiding on a platform in the trees.  Dante immediately ran into melee  with three bandits.  She had to grant him one thing, he had courage.    Barry and Skydd followed to aid him, drawing the attention of one bandit  each.


 Dante was fighting a woman who was larger than he was.  She wielded  an axe in each hand and was shouting curses with each swing of her  blades. She brought one axe down on Dante’s shoulder, he grunted in  obvious pain.  Siv feared he was in over his head.  She sprinted over to  him and laid a hand upon his shoulder and released a healing spell.   The flow of blood stopped, but the wound was still bad.


 But Dante had more fight in him than Siv had anticipated, he quickly  placed his own hand on his shoulder and the wound healed almost  completely. Without missing a beat, he brought his own hammer down on  the woman’s left arm, causing her to yell out in pain.  It was only a  few seconds more before Dante stuck a mortal blow against his opponent.   Siv looked around quickly and realized only the two bandits in the  trees were still alive.

 They both threw down their weapons and surrendered immediately.


 Among the valuables found at the camp was Svetlana’s wedding ring,  which had been stolen on the bandit’s first visit.  They also found  multiple crates of furs that had clearly been stolen from the trading  post.   It was satisfying to be able to undo some of the damage these  bandits had inflicted.  Siv was eager to see the looks on the Leveton’s  faces upon their return.


 Meric began questioning the two prisoners.  Siv expected Dante to be  right there with him, giving the bandits a healthy helping of shame to  go with their humiliation.  But he seemed withdrawn, and stood a bit  back from the rest of the party.


 Fortunately Meric was intimidating enough alone to get the bandits  talking.  “How many more of you are in the Greenbelt?  Who is your  leader and where does he make camp?”


 The uglier of the two did most of the talking.   “Our boss is a  monster of a man.  Calls himself the Stag Lord.”  Siv recalled a silver  stag amulet that they had looted from one of the men whom had attacked  Oleg’s.
 “He has a fort on the northeast shore of the Tuskwater.  It’s hard  keeping track of who’s working for the boss, so we use a master phrase  as a sort of password to get in to the fort. Unless it’s been changed  recently, the current phrase is, ‘By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg,  who wants to know?’ And no, I have no idea who ‘St. Gilmorg’ is.”  Siv  chuckled at that.


 “What else can you tell me about him?”  Meric’s manner was a bit odd.   He had a venomous look in his eyes.  Siv couldn’t tell if it was just  for the benefit of the bandits, or if she had missed something that had  set him off.
 “He’s a deadeye with the bow, and I saw him crush a prisoner’s hand  to mush in one fist. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him without  his creepy stag helmet on—some of my friends think he ain’t got no face  under it, but not me—I think that creepy helm is his face!”


 Asta stepped forward.  “Is there anything else you think we should  know?”  Skydd moved closer to the man and let out a low growl a few  inches from his face.


 The man was too terrified to move.  It took him a moment before he  found his voice again.  “The Stag Lord is a bloody drunk. All that booze  under the platform’s for him. He’s half of what he used to be, and  ain’t never been right in the head. A few weeks ago he punched my horse  for spittin’ in the yard.  But even drunk out of his mind he’s still got  a fair amount of fight to him."


 Meric seemed satisfied and sheathed his weapon.  Asta gave him a  sideways look.  “The charters say the crime for unrepentant banditry is  death by sword or rope.”


 Both bandits immediately spoke up. “We repent! We are so sorry.  What  we did was wrong, but we see that now.  Please don’t kill us!”


 Siv was not the least bit impressed.  “How quickly men see the error  of their ways when they are looking down the pointy end of the sword.   How many victims begged you for their lives when the roles were  reversed?” She looked over to Meric. “Asta is right, we should kill  them.”


 This was enough to bring Dante into the conversation.  “We should  give them a chance.  I don’t sense the taint of evil on them now.  They  may have done terrible things in the past, but killing them doesn’t  accomplish anything.”  Siv had not expected that from Dante.  Meric  added his voice to Dante’s.


 “They have given us useful information.  We should spare them for  now.  We can bring them back to Oleg’s under guard of Kesten Garess.   Oleg may be able to find use of them as reparation for the harm they’ve  done him and others.”
 Siv did not approve.  But this wasn’t a battle she cared to fight right now.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 2*

[h=2]*Meric*[/h] 

Meric could at last see Oleg’s off in the distance.  He was eager to  conclude their business here quickly so that they could immediately ride  south for the keep controlled by this ‘Stag Lord’.  This man was all  that stood between Meric and a kingdom and nothing would stop him now.


 That was when the sending came upon him.  Words projected into his  mind by a distant spellcaster.  He vaguely recognized it as originating  from a priest from the temple of Pelor in Restov whom he had met once or  twice.  The message caused his blood to run cold.


*Merric it’s Brook*
*Please return home*
*Everyone is dead except me*
*I’m so scared please hurry

*

 His sister Brook was the only member of his family whom he still had  any contact with since his father had cast him out.  Could this be a  trick?  An enemy trying to draw him out into the open?  He thought of  Brook, and decided he had to risk it.  He made his reply quietly as to  not draw the attention of the others.


*On my way*
*Be calm*
*we will have vengeance

*

 He considered whether or not he could trust his new companions enough  to ask for their help in this matter.  They were formidable, and he  didn’t know what dangers he faced on his return to Restov.  He didn’t  need to tell them everything.  Just that he had received a sending and  that his sister was in danger.  He hoped they would not press him for  more information.


 They did not.  They rode swiftly to Restov after a brief stop at the  trading post to return the Leveton’s goods and leave their two prisoners  under guard.  It was the longest ride of Meric’s life.


 His family’s was a modest home outside the walls of the city.  Even  now it bothered him that his childhood was spent here in hiding instead  of ruling from the finest palaces in all of Golarion.  As they  approached the door, Meric could see his father in his mind, standing at  the entrancing screaming for him to leave before his ‘taint’ infected  his other children.  His father was a stupid man.


 It was late, and the house seemed dark.  The whole trip Meric had  hoped this was some kind of trick.  That when he arrived he would find  everyone alive and well going about their normal routines.  But the  house was so dark.  He opened the door and cast light on his sword.  He  had done his best to hide his spell casting from the group, but it had  not taken them long to figure out that he was no fighter.  There was no  point in keeping up pretenses now.


 He found no trace of any of his family.  “Meric. Over here.”  Siv  called out to him.  As he approached her she looked down at the floor.   Meric could see the stain of dried blood covering a large area.  Too  much for a person to spare and survive.  “There are others.” Siv spoke  softly.  Meric looked across the room and saw two more dried puddles of  blood, one for each his father, mother and brother.


 Asta looked as though she was going to be sick.  Meric’s blood burned like hellfire.


 “Where is your sister?”  Dante added as tactfully as he could.  Meric  had almost forgotten.  “She’s probably still at the temple of Pelor.   We should go quickly.”


 Brook was sitting in one of the front pews, sobbing uncontrollably  when he arrived.  He embraced her, and the two of them sat in silence  holding each other.  Dante, Siv and Asta all waited at the rear of the  temple.   Eventually Brook gained enough composure to speak.


 “I had snuck out during the night.  When I returned…they were all  dead.  Blood was everywhere.”  Meric struggled to contain his rage but  did for his sister’s sake.    She continued. “I fled immediately.  I  didn’t even call the city watch.  Whoever killed them must have intended  to kill me as well.  I ran straight here and contacted you.”  Smart  girl.  If Cheliax had sent assassins, their orders were surely to kill  the entire family.  Meric knew his name was surely on their list as  well.  He had so many questions, but he couldn’t burden her with them  all of them now.


 “Who moved their bodies?  We went to the house and they were gone.”


 “The high priest of the temple here, the one who sent the sending.  I  had to tell him what happened in order for him to send the message.   After he was done he asked me who our family worshipped and made  arrangements to have their bodies brought to a shrine of Aroden that  still exists in the city.  He didn’t tell anyone I was here.” Brook’s  lip began to quiver.  “I thought that’s where Mother and Father would  want to be brought.  I was too afraid to go see them.”


 “You were right not to.  You did everything right Brook.  None of  this is your fault.  Let’s go to the shrine now.  We won’t be able to  stay for the burial, but we should go see them.”


 He hardly recognized his father.  It had been years since he had seen  him, and he had grown old and fat.  His Mother hadn’t changed a bit.   His younger brother Nikolai was the hardest to see.  He was only twelve  and had grown so much since Meric had last seen him.  Each had their  throat slit.  It was clearly the work of a professional assassin.


 Asta stepped forward and asked the question that he knew would come  sooner or later.  “Who would want your family dead?  Do you have enemies  Meric?”


 He and Brook looked in each other’s eyes, pondering the same question  without saying a word.  Their entire lives there was one rule.  Do not  tell ANYONE who you really are.  It had been  drilled into them since they were small.  Neither was sure now was the  time to break that rule.


 “I can’t say with certainty who did this.  We should investigate near  the house.  Someone might have seen something.”  He hadn’t really  answered her question, but she did not press him on it.  For that he was  grateful.


 It did not surprise Meric greatly when their inquiries yielded  nothing but people who claimed to have seen nothing.  He was about to  give up when Siv approached.


 “There is a small boy over there who hasn’t taken his eyes off us  since we arrived and started asking questions.  In my experience,  children usually notice when something is out of place.”


 It was better than any lead Meric had gotten.  “Let’s see what we can glean from this boy.”


 The boy did not feel talkative.  Asta, Siv and Dante tried everything  including bribing him with candy, but he said not a word.  Meric grew  tired of this.  The boy was clearly traumatized by what he saw.  Even if  he began to talk, he might burst into tears while recalling the  incident.  Meric cast a Charm spell on him.


 This did not escape either Asta’s or Siv’s notice.


 The boy began talking.  He had seen a man leaving the house that  night.  He wore red, and carried two curved blades that he said ‘looked  like teeth’.  A chill came over Meric who looked at his companions.   From Asta’s expression, it seemed she came to the same conclusion he  did.  This was far worse than he feared.  Why in the nine hells would  his cousin contract the Red Mantis?  It was like using a trebuchet to  kill a mouse.


 Meric purchased a horse for Brook along with a bed roll and some  other provisions she would need.  He was afraid to let her out of his  sight.  She would have to travel with them.  The Mantis were relentless.   Once you were marked they did not stop until you were dead.  And even  then, they kept tabs on you.  Should you be restored to life by magical  means, they returned to deliver you back into death’s arms.  For the  first time in his adult life, Meric was genuinely afraid.  As they made  their way back to the Greenbelt, Meric knew he had to come clean with  the others.  Their lives were in enormous jeopardy by helping him.  They  rode at a slow pace all packed together so they could hear him speak.

“My real name is not Thorn.  It’s Thrune.”  By their reactions, Siv  and Asta immediately grasped what this meant.  Dante seemed not to.  “My  grandfather was Almeric Thrune, the leader of house Thrune of Cheliax.   After the death of Aroden, Celiax fell into disarray.  There was thirty  years of civil war and chaos.  Over the years, my grandfather had been  making alliances amongst the other houses and eventually gained enough  support to claim the throne.  There was peace in Cheliax for the first  time in decades.  But it did not last long.  His sister Abrogail was an  infernalist.  She conspired with devils and with their help, launch an  all-out assault on my grandfather and his allies.  They were no match  for infernal armies and magic.  My grandfather was forced to flee and go  into hiding.  He came to Brevoy and changed his name to Thorn.


 Asta looked at Meric’s sigil.  It was a wagon wheel with thorns  growing through it.  She suddenly understood it’s significance.  “So  let’s get this straight…you’re the rightful king of Cheliax?”


Suddenly Dante grasped the magnitude of what was happening and his  jaw fell slack.  Brook looked concerned.  As if this secret that she had  kept her whole life was now loose and could kill her at any moment.


Meric nodded in response to Asta.  “My cousin must have found us.   She must consider us a threat to the legitimacy of her rule.  The  assassin…you should all know that I believe he was Red Mantis.  We are  in enormous danger.  They have spies everywhere and will not stop until  Brook and I are dead.  I would understand if you did not want to travel  with us anymore.”


Asta pondered this for a moment before asking a question.  “Just to  be clear, your side of the family, doesn’t support using devils right?”


“We despise them.  I want nothing more than to see them driven from my homeland.”


 The rest of the ride was mostly silent.


----------



## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 2*

[h=2]*Asta*[/h] 

The group knew where the Stag Lord was, but thought it best to  proceed with caution through the Greenbelt.  They took their time,  exploring in a southerly direction.  It also gave Meric and Brook time  to grieve.  Asta knew what it was like to lose a parent, and her heart  went out to them.  At least they had each other to lean on during this  time.  It was more than Asta had.


 Brook was a beautiful girl.  Asta felt terrible for her on this  journey.  There were no beds in the Greenbelt.  She had to sleep out  under the stars with everyone else.  There was nowhere to bath  regularly, and only trail rations or whatever food Siv could manage to  forage from the local terrain.  This included far too high a percentage  of radishes for Asta’s taste.


 She looked down expecting Skydd to be nearby as he always was when  she hadn’t specifically ordered him away.  But he was not there.  She  began looking around. A small sense of panic hit her.  She scanned the  horizon for him but saw nothing.  Then Dante laughed and spoke.


 “I think Skydd is going to need a bath.”


 Asta was confused.  “Skydd doesn’t need baths.”


 Dante nodded in the direction of the forest.  Asta could see Skydd  rolling around in the grass on his back.  She was utterly perplexed.   Dante clarified what he meant.


 “I had a dog who would roll around like that whenever he found some  awful scent.  I don’t know what it is with animals and foul odors, but  they seem to love them.  I’m glad I don’t have to bathe a five hundred  pound tiger.”


Asta’s confusion was mounting.  Skydd never behaved like this.  She  rode over to him and dismounted.  He stopped rolling around and walked  up to her and shoved his head gently into her neck.  He laid down and  placed his head in her lap like a kitten.  A kitten whose head was  cutting off circulation to Asta’s leg.  She pet him gently between his  ears.  He purred in response.  She had no idea what was happening.  He  wasn’t a normal animal.  She had come to grips with this fact years ago.   He rolled onto his back and pulled his paws up close to his face.   Asta could have cried.  She pet his belly and he let out a low groan  that Asta took to mean he liked it.  It was the happiest she had been in  years.


She wore a bit of a smile for the rest of the day.  They continued  south through the rolling plains just east of the Narlmarches.   Eventually they came upon a particularly rocky crag that rose from the  hills.  Siv stopped as they rode past it, and went over for a closer  look.  She called back to the group.  When Asta came close she could see  a 5-foot-wide crack at the crag’s base.  The group looked down and in  the midday sun, caught the unmistakable glitter of a gold vein.

 Some luck at last Asta thought.  The group was long over do some.


----------



## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

[h=2]*Stolen Land:  Part 2**

Dante*[/h] As the group gathered around the fire at the camp, Dante found he had  no appetite.  It wasn’t just that he had already eaten the last radish  he ever wanted to see, it was mostly the events of the past few days  weighing down on him.
 Dante had fought men before.  He had bloodied them in combat.  But  before the Thorn River bandit camp, he had never killed one.  He had  seen plenty of carnage.  Skydd and Barry went for the jugular every time  they attacked.  But there was something different about killing a man  with your own weapon.  When he killed the leader of that camp, he could  feel it down his hand and arm, into his very core.  He felt the hammer  tear through muscles and tendons, and shatter bone.  He could acutely  feel his insides as he watched the life leave that woman’s eyes.


 He had been in a bit of a daze after that.  Far less talkative, and  with little appetite.  Seeing Meric’s family murdered like that made it  worse.  This wasn’t anything like he thought it would be.  That woman  had a potent aura of evil about her.  She had murdered before and would  certainly murder again.  She had to be stopped.  But He didn’t feel like  a hero.


 He had lied to the Swordlords when he told them he was eighteen.  He  knew they would never grant a charter to a sixteen year old.  He thought  it didn’t matter, that he was a grown man and ready to face anything  the world could throw at him.  He was wrong.  He suddenly felt like a  child who had more growing up to do.

 He laid down to sleep early that night, hopeful rest would bring him some peace._
Dante awoke to a bizarre  sight.  Instead of the star filled night sky that he gazed upon before  falling asleep, he saw an inferno.  As if off at some indeterminable  distance, the very air burned.  He sat up quickly and noticed his  companions still nearby, asleep.  The immediate vicinity of the camp  appeared undisturbed.  But as he looked off into the horizon, he saw the  soft rolling plains of the River kingdoms had been transformed.
_​_
The landscape was a  random mix of both familiar terrain and a hellish landscape that could  only exist in nightmares.   Jagged rock formations, devoid of any trees  plants or grass dotted the terrain.  Off in the distance he could see  the tree line of the Narlmarches still intact, and the Thorn River  continued to flow near the camp, but now dropped off the edge of an  impossibly deep canyon that now existed nearby.  It was as if some  hellish plane had invaded the world and the two dimensions fought to a  draw, leaving a scarred and insane hybrid of the two._​_
Before he was able to  react, he realized that perhaps 50 feet from him hovered a being in  gleaming gold plate armor.  Large white wings spread from his back.  He  was perhaps 9 feet tall, and radiated goodness that calmed his nerves  despite his unease at the situation.  Suddenly he noticed a creature  enter his field of vision across from the angel.  It radiated evil of an  intensity that Dante did not think was possible.  It stood taller than  the angel despite the fact that the angel hovered several feet off the  ground.  His body was red and large bat-like wings extend from his back.   A constant plume of smoke rose from between them.   He held a massive  sword in his left hand and an equally massive whip in his right.  Both  were wreathed in flames.  The demon spoke._​_
[Demon] “You are far from Celestia Uriel._​_
[Uriel] “The path to the  prime will remain closed to you Severik.   Tell you master he risks the  full fury of the Host by continuing this course.”_​_
[Severik] “Do we  ordinarily see only your partial fury?  Do you hold back a bit in every  engagement against us? “ The demon’s grotesque face appeared to form a  smile.  “The hordes of the abyss are infinite, and your wrath, however  mighty, is finite.  Why don’t you tell YOUR master that?”_​_
[Uriel]  “You will not  take the prime.  Your kind was driven from it eons ago and the gods will  not yield it to you now. Go back to the pit that spawned you and make  war on each other for all eternity.”  The angel’s face turned from stoic  to what could almost be describe as amused.  “It would be more  productive.”_​_
From above Dante could  see a flock of birds…no not birds…monsters, circling above the angel.   From both sides of Severik appeared demons of numerous types.  Each more  vile than the last, all palpably evil.  The angel stood utterly alone._​_
[Severik] “The boundries have weakened.  You are attempting to hold back an ocean.”_​_
[Uriel]  “The response  to such an incursion will be far beyond anything your master has  considered in his machinations.  Cascades will commence in his domain,  his defenses will lie in ruins, and his legions will be scattered where  not outright annihilated.”_​_
[Severik] “You could empty all of the Heavens and not be able to successfully hold even a single layer of the abyss.”_​_
[Uriel]  “Occupation is  unnecessary.  How many minutes after the host retreats will your  master’s enemies in the abyss wait before converging to claim what is  his?“_​_
The demon appeared to pause. The flames that surrounded his body intensified in response to the rage that stirred within him._​_
[Uriel]  “The path to the prime will remain closed to you Severik.   Inform your master accordingly.”_​_
The demon looked upon  the angel with a hatred so intense, Dante feared it might snuff out his  life.  The surrounding demons began moving towards the angel._​_
[Severik] “You are far from Celestia Uriel.”_​_
Without a word, the  angel drew his bow and loosed 4 arrows at the balor.  All found their  mark, two striking him in the throat sending him reeling.  The flying  demons converged, tearing and biting with their razor sharp teeth and  talons.  With movements swifter and more fluid than Dante had ever  witnessed, the angel continued to fire.  Two of the flying demons were  dead in an instant.  Two others manage to drag the angel to the ground  where a mass of smaller demons proceed to pile on him._​_
Dante was gripped with  fear at the prospect witnessing this champion of good torn limb from  limb by these monsters, but before he had much time to consider the  scene in front of him, a holy word was spoken.  Dante could not  understand it’s meaning, but he sensed it was a profound statement of  truth.  At that moment, all of the demons within several feet of Uriel  were annihilated.  He rose and renewed his volleys against the horde  that stood before him._​_
At that moment, the  balor moved with a speed no creature that large should possess, and  brought his blade down on the Angel.  Sparks flew as the unholy blade  penetrated Uriel’s armor.  The wound was deep, but the angel betrayed no  signs of pain.  Uriel reached for a greatsword that was strapped to his  back, and the two titans exchange blows at close range.  The balor’s  blade cut deep, the angel’s cut deeper.   There was no doubt in Dante’s  mind who would have won a stand up fight between these two._​_
The remaining demons  largely stayed back from the fight, but one, a hideous woman like  creature with the lower body of a snake and 6 arms, joined the fray.   She attacked Uriel from behind, all 6 blades found their mark.  The  angel fell to one knee. The balor sneered when he spoke._​_
[Severik] “Heironieous  has always favored you. He would no doubt restore you if I were to kill  you.  No matter, there are fates worse than death”_​_
He struck Uriel through  the chest with his sword, piercing clean through to the other side. He  uttered a profane word that shook Dante to his very core.  The Angel’s  body was consumed by primal evil and chaos, and soon nothing remained  but a gold ball of light, hovering dimly in front of Severik.  He smiled  and moved to collect the orb when Dante saw his expression change to  one of confusion.  The ball of light began to solidify.  At first it  appeared to change into a liquid, and then hardened into a vibrant gold  metal.  Realization dawned on Severik as he teleported away._​_
The ball exploded with a  force that knocked Dante onto his back. Shrapnel from it flew in all  directions, ripping numerous demons to pieces.  One large piece flew end  over end towards Dante’s head, nearly striking him.  It landed just a  few feet past his bedroll._​_
Severik reappeared.  He  was unable contain his rage and lashed out at the nearest demon,  cleaving it in half.  After a moment he controlled himself and began to  cast a spell.  Soon all of the pieces of the gold ball begin coalescing  in front of him.  Every tiny piece returned to him and reshaped the  sphere, save for one long gash in the ball that was unaccounted for.    The balor began scanning the surroundings for the missing piece,  suddenly his eyes scanned in Dante’s direction, and he was certain the  demon perceived him._

​Dante awoke with a shout.  As he looked out into the distance, he saw  nothing unusual.  He had been dreaming.  But it was like no dream he  had ever had before.  He reached out with his power and could sense the  faint presence of evil surrounding the entire area.  The others were  waking now.  Asta spoke first.


 “Dante what’s wrong?


 He looked at them with a face he knew was showing obvious terror.   Could a demonic army really be about to invade this realm?  He feared  they would think he was crazy.  But he felt compelled to tell them the  whole story.
 After he finished, the group looked at him with what would best be  described as skepticism.  Meric had never completely gotten out of his  bedroll after waking up.  He did not seem convinced.


 “With any luck the Red Mantis will kill us before the demons get to  us.”  He said in an annoyed tone.  He rolled back over and went back to  sleep.  The others ultimately did the same.


 Dante was too afraid to try and sleep again that night, but went to  lay back down all the same. To his shock, he saw the same piece of metal  he had seen in his dream, buried in the ground behind his bedroll.  He  picked it up and examined it.  It looked like gold, but clearly wasn’t.


 He glanced back at the now snoring Meric.  Maybe it was best if the  Red Mantis killed them.  Apparently, there were fates worse than death.


----------



## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 3*

[h=2]*Asta*[/h] 

The storm off in the distance was beautiful, but strange.  A number  of locals had told Asta that the spring storms in the River Kingdoms  tended to come in isolated, powerful cells.  She still couldn’t get over  how she could see both edges of the storm so clearly.  Nor could she  understand how such a small storm could produce such a torrential  downpour.  It looked as though if two men were standing 50 feet apart at  the edge of the storm, one would be drenched and the other completely  dry.  The clear skies over the party made the violent sounds of thunder  off in the distance a bit unsettling.


 Not as unsettling though as the cave the group was about to enter.   There was a broken down sign on the ground near the entrance that read  ‘Oaktop Silver Mine’.  Siv had recognized the writing style as  originating from Taldor.  Their empire had once extended this far north  and it seemed reasonable that this mine might have been abandoned  suddenly as opposed to mined empty.  It had to be investigated.


 But unexplored cave networks are no place for the untrained, and the  group faced a real dilemma with what to do with Brook.  Taking her  inside did not seem to be an option.  But leaving her outside was not  much safer.  The wilderness of the Stolen Lands was full of bandits and  predators.  Meric ultimately had cast an illusion spell near a rock  formation that would hopefully fool any who happened past to only see  more rocks, instead of Brook’s hiding spot.  It fooled Asta, but both  Dante and Siv had seen through it.  She hoped it would be enough.   The  thought of what these bandits would do to a girl as beautiful as Brook  sickened her.  They would have to explore the caves quickly.


A crack of thunder rumbled in the background.  Skydd looked uneasy.    His head hung low and he kept looking back at Asta for reassurance that  everything was alright.


“Are you suddenly afraid of thunder?”  It had never bothered him before.


 His only response was to nuzzle his head into Asta’s stomach.  She pet him comfortingly.


“Alright, let’s head in.  Dante, you take point.  Asta, you and Skydd  bring up the rear.”  Meric had become something of the unofficial  leader of the group over the past few days.  He didn’t try to boss  people around; he just planned out details that the others might forget.   It didn’t seem to bother anyone.


The cave themselves appeared lived in.  Someone had rigged up 3 pit  traps that the group had to deactivate before moving on.  It wasn’t long  before they found themselves under attack by Kobolds.  The fighting  didn’t last long and the group suffered no serious wounds.  Further  exploration led the group to a strange temple of sorts.  The walls of  this room of the cave had been smeared with what appeared to be charcoal  and blood to depict multiple representations in red and black of a  looming, sharp-toothed reptilian devil. Two low stone tables sat in the  middle of the room, one was stained with blood.  Siv spoke first.


“Well that’s kind of grim.”  Siv moved closer to the stone. “I think  the sacrifice was a Kobold.  I wonder how many of their own they’ve  thrown away like this.”

 Eventually the group found their way to the center of the cave  network, and had to do battle with the entire remnants of the tribe.   The fighting was more intense, but the group was more than a match for  them.   Exploring the cave confirmed there was still much silver to be  had.


Asta wondered where the women and children of this tribe were.  She  supposed she might not be able to tell the women from the men, but  assumed she would be able to identify children by at least being smaller  than the adults.  The group found no eggs either.  Did Kobolds lay  eggs?  Either way, it appeared to be a group of adults who worshipped  some strange demon.  It was surely for the best that they were driven  from the land.  She wondered what the others would have done if this had  been a peaceful clan with children who occupied this valuable resource.


----------



## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

[h=2]*Stolen Land:  Part 3
**
Siv*[/h] The Stag Lord’s fort sat perhaps one hundred feet from the shores of  lake Tuskwater.  There was only one entrance.  Siv was wracking her  brain trying to come up with a good plan for getting beyond its walls.   They had ‘A’ plan, just not a good one.  It split the party and relied  heavily on Meric’s ability to Bullsh*t people.  She was not convinced.


 Meric had told Asta and Siv the idea away from Dante.  As a Paladin  of Kord, sneaking into your opponent’s base and killing them while they  slept was probably the cardinal sin.  The plan was to use the pass  phrase the group had been given from one of the captured bandits.  Once  inside, they could offer the liquor they had found at the previous  bandit camp as an offering to the stag lord and as a means to get the  men inside the fort drunk.   Eventually they could silently kill some  while they slept, then open the doors of the fort for Dante and Barry  who waited outside.


She had initially hoped to lure most of the bandits out a few at a  time and ambush them once they were out of sight of the fort.  But only a  single group had headed out in the time since they had arrived, and no  other group was sent to investigate when they didn’t return.


 She eventually agreed to go along with the plan. Meric, Asta and  herself approached the fort minus Barry and Skydd.  Barry remained  outside with Dante; whereas Asta would summon Skydd to her once they  found a quiet place inside the fort.  As they approached, she was  prepared to run as fast as she could away when their ruse didn’t hold up


 “Who goes there!”  Even though she was expecting it, the shout from the fort caused her insides to jump.


 “By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg, who wants to know?” Siv didn’t  even recognize Meric as he spoke.  His voice and mannerism had  transformed into a carbon copy of the bandits they had encountered so  far.


 The gates opened.  So far so good.


 “I don’t recognize any of you.”  Siv could feel the stares of a  half-dozen bandits on her and Asta.  Meric began handing out a few  bottles of wine to the surrounding men.


 “We’ve just come from the camp at the thorn river.  We took down a  wagon that was carrying a few cases of these.  Can somebody bring this  one to the Stag Lord?”


 “Why don’t you do it yourself?”  Came a comment from one of the now  dozen men who surrounded them.  Siv Wondered exactly what Meric was  playing at here.


 “No way.  Last time I saw the Stag Lord he punched my horse for  ‘spitting in the yard’.  No way I’m doing it.  Besides I carried the  booze half way across the Stolen Lands, someone else can bring them to  the Stag Lord’s door.” Meric was an uncanny liar.  If Siv had not heard  that story from one of the bandits they captured, she would have  believed him.


 One of the men yelled out after taking a swig from a bottle. “Donnel,  take that case to the Stag Lord.  Our friend here has earned a break.”   Siv breathed a sigh of relief.


 The rest of the evening was filled with smelly, disgusting, drunk  bandits making lewd overtures to herself and Asta.  One in particular  began trying to grope her.  Siv pulled a dagger and did her best to  scare the man off.  But he was loaded up on liquid courage, and shoved  her dagger away.  She was prepared to kill him when she heard Meric  yell.


 “Hey!  Both of them are mine! “  Meric had his sword drawn in one  hand and held an empty bottle in the other.  All night he had cast minor  illusions to make it look as if the bottle was full and that he was  drinking along with the others.


 “Find your own unless you want to find my blade up your ass!”


 “Hey I didn’t know! Calm down!  They’re yours I got it!”  The man  backed down.  Siv was astounded at Meric’s ability to think on his feet.


 Things went smoothly after that.  There were twelve bandits in the  courtyard of the fort.  They couldn’t get inside to see how many were  within.  As they bedded down for the night, four remained on watch near  the gate.  Asta went to the rear of the fort and summoned Skydd.  What  followed was a brutal and methodical massacre.  The bandits slept all  around the ruins of the fort, and it was simple to go to them a few at a  time and slit their throats as they slept.


Things almost went bad when Meric’s dagger slipped and he failed to  kill the bandit he hovered over in one strike.  But before the bandit  could even shout, Meric put his hands to the man’s face and drained the  heat from him.  It was enough to finish him.


Only the four at the gate remained. Meric ran to it in a panic and signaled for them.

“Someone got into the fort and is killing everyone!  Get over here  quick!”  He’s definitely not lying Siv thought.  The panic on his face  was so convincing that the bandits did not notice the blood on his  armor.   They ran to were Meric signaled and began to panic themselves.


“Holy sh*t they’re dead!”


Siv and Asta quickly opened the front door to the fort.  Dante and  Barry were inside before the Bandits realized what had happened. Meric’s  plan worked like a charm.  All that was left was to mop up and find  this Stag Lord.

 On queue a door to one of the upper areas of the keep opened and out  walked a massive man where a stag’s head for a helmet.  From a door on  the ground level, three other men entered the courtyard.  Chaos ensued.


Barry and Skydd were on the original bandits in a flash.  Dante ran  for the stairs to challenge the Stag Lord directly.  Unfortunately for  Siv, the Stag Lord stuck her with two arrows which severely wounded her.   She took cover and healed herself.


The bandit at the Thorn river camped had not lied, the Stag Lord was a  deadeye with a bow.  Siv’s companions were learning that lesson the  hard way.  Fortunately Dante was able to harm him enough to grab his  full attention.  Skydd and 

Barry attacked the new comers.  Meric used a  charge of burning hands from a wand they had found previously.  Siv  launched a Flaming Sphere at the Stag Lord, but he was often able to  evade it. Skydd was wounded, but Asta healed him.  

One of the Bandits  struck Barry over the head with a club.  He collapsed with a muted roar.


“BARRY!”  Siv was enraged.  But she couldn’t move from cover for fear  of the Stag Lord’s aim.  She summoned a wolf to aid Dante and distract  the leader of the bandits.  By now Skydd had killed a bandit who wielded  a rapier, and had jumped onto another who wore chainmail and carried a  shield.  Siv ran to stabilize Barry.


Dante had stood strong against the Stag lord, but in the end he  couldn’t match up one on one.  He fell unconscious with multiple arrows  visible sticking out of his armor.  He had repeatedly healed himself  during the fight, but the Stag Lord was a monster of a man.  The hideous  bandit wielding a club struck Asta with great force wounding her.   Things looked bad for the group.


Thinking quickly, Meric cast an illusion that looked like Skydd  running towards the Stag Lord.  In his drunken stupor, he could not see  through it.  The remaining bandits fell.  A final ray of frost from  Meric sealed the Stag Lord’s fate.  His corpse tumbled from the stair  case.


Siv ran to heal Dante.  He was still alive thankfully.  She  definitely couldn’t question his courage.  It took them all a few  minutes to take stock.  It had been a close thing, but they had  succeeded against all odds.  The bandits of the Greenbelt had been  decimated.  The lands were safe.  It was time to build a nation.


----------



## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 3*

[h=2]*Dante*[/h] 

Dante held his scale armor in front of himself and put his finger  through each of the six holes the Stag Lord had put in it.  His armor  was ruined.  But with the funds they had received from the keep as well  as the rewards from Restov for ending the bandit scourge, he could  afford the materials for far better.


 Of greater concern to him were the six holes that the Stag Lord had  put in his chest.  They had been healed days ago, but the memory of  being bested had stuck with him.  It was similar to the Thorn River  bandit encounter.  Dante had abandoned the foe in front of him and  charged the leader.  Though he defeated the woman there, he had been  seriously wounded.  Had her initial blow been an inch higher he could  have lost his head.


 His determination and persistence had paid off in many of their  battles.  But against the elite foes, he found himself outclassed in  terms of raw skill.  Being rendered unconscious was humiliating.  How  could this be prevented in the future?  He would certainly improve in  skill, but there would always be battles where he was at the  disadvantage.  He mediated on this for some time each day.


 Since their return to Restov, things had been frantic.  Approval was  given for colonization and a stipend of 200,000 Gold worth of Material,  skilled workers and money were granted to the group and were heading to  the Greenbelt tomorrow in a caravan.  Dante had concluded most of his  business in the city already.  But had one thing left to do.


 He took the piece of metal that he found after his dream and put it  into the fire at the forge.  None of the smith’s in town could identify  it.  The priests of the various temples could all detect magic emanating  from it.  But each was baffled by how they could not detect a specific  school of magic as being responsible for it.  The only lead he had came  from the temple of Heironeous.  There they had many tomes about the  heavens and the servants of the gods.  Uriel was a known angel.  It  referred to him as “Heironeous’ strong right arm”.


 The dream haunted his waking thoughts.  In the past whenever he awoke  from a nightmare, the inconsistencies of the dream were always obvious.   As he would reflect on everything that happened, he would inevitably  wonder how he could have ever believed it was real.  This dream was  different.  It was vivid and it was consistent.  He increasingly  believed that everything he saw was real.  The shard of metal was even  further proof.


 He had made the decision to try and forge the shard into his new  armor.  This would keep it safe if nothing else.  He pulled the shard  from the fire and brought it to the anvil to hammer.  It wasn’t red at  all.  He put a hand close to the metal and felt no heat emanating from  it.  His finger grazed the surface to confirm this.  The metal was still  completely cool.


 Baffled but not deterred, he put the shard back in the fire and  increased the heat of the coals as much as was possible.  He left it  there for twice as long as normal.  When he withdrew it the metal was  hot, but not nearly enough to be worked.


 Dante went to his former master Iban who had no answers.  His only  suggestion was that some Dwarven smiths worked strong metals such as  adamantine in specially designed furnaces.  Furnaces that could generate  far more heat than any Dante could find in these lands.  He would have  to make the journey to the Five Kings Mountains to have any chance of  learning these techniques.  Siv interrupted his train of thought.


 “Dante, Meric wants to go over some things with us in preparation for tomorrow.”


 “I’ll be right there.” Dante thought back to the two druids whom they  had fought in the Greenbelt.  Siv had recently learned to wild shape.   He began to wonder if all druids end up as crazy hermits who spend the  majority of their time as an animal.


 His thoughts turned back to the shard.  A journey to the dwarves  would have to wait.  The caravan needed protecting and this fledgling  kingdom would be fragile for some time.  He looked down at the golden  piece of metal.  It almost seemed to glow.


----------



## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 3

*[h=2]*Meric*[/h] 

The nuances of agricultural trade agreements made Meric long for the  days when he knew nothing of agricultural trade agreements.  He had been  working with New Stetven on an arrangement to import enough food to  keep his people fed until the farmlands made the country  self-sufficient.  It would have been easier to reach such an agreement  with Restov, but Meric knew he had to build strong relationships with  all of the regional powers.  Striking a deal with New Stetven would be a  first step towards being able to claim neutrality if Brevoy fell into  civil war.


 Organizing even this small kingdom was an enormous endeavor, and the  group had quickly realized they needed to delegate many tasks in order  to simply get by each day.  He had planned to spend much of his time  over seeing new construction and expansion.  Yet the majority of his day  was simply spent resolving disputes between the commoners and seeing to  a multitude of administrative tasks.  It was not exactly how he had  pictured ruling a nation.


They had formed a leadership council made up of the best they could  find.  The best they could find however was at most, adequate.  Oleg had  been a merchant his whole life and neither Meric or his companions had  any experience in book keeping.  And so Oleg became the treasurer of  this still unnamed nation.  Kesten Garess was made Marshall and charged  with keeping the peace here in the new capital of the Greenbelt, Stag’s  End.  Garess was likely the finest soldier in the kingdom.  Dante had  sparred with him a number of times over the past few months and to date  Garess had won every bout.  He was doing a fine job, but he was chosen  in desperation in the first days of construction because Meric had no  better options.  He hated having no alternative options.


There was one pleasant surprise to come from those early days  however.  Lily Teskerton was a beautiful woman whom many of the men  fawned over.  Meric had initially ignored her as just a useless local  flirt.  Talking with her however revealed that she knew more about the  workings of his kingdom than he did.  Men were always trying to impress  her, and so they talked non-stop about themselves and their plans.  She  helped Meric identify a thief who had been sneaking into the  construction sites at night and stealing valuable material.  She also  dug up some dirt on a few men who Meric thought it would be advantageous  to have some leverage over.  She was a valuable resource and best of  all; no one would suspect she was acting as a spy for the ruler of the  nation.


There had been no news since leaving Restov about the other kingdoms  started in the stolen lands.  All of them had been explored and made  safe prior to the Greenbelt.  And all had received caravans of resources  and workers as Meric had.  The nation needed to focus on building and  expansion, but Meric knew conflicts would eventually arise on their  borders.  The entirety of the Stolen Lands would be insufficient to  challenge Cheliax, let alone just the Greenbelt.  They had to expand  aggressively and hope the other fledgling nations were making the  mistake of thinking that the charters from Restov alone would protect  their lands.


The nation also needed a damn name.  The council had spent an hour at  their last meeting throwing out ideas, but each either didn’t fit the  character of the nation, or wouldn’t inspire the reaction in enemies  that he desired.    He looked out the window of his chambers in the  castle and could see all of the new construction in Stag’s End.  Things  were progressing nicely.  Perhaps it was time to send for Shireen.  The  thought brought a smile to his face.


Thunder crackled in the distance.  Every afternoon during the spring  and early summer, a storm would pass within a few miles of the city.   These lands had a temper.  They had rejected every attempt to civilize  them across the centuries.  Meric understood how fragile their position  in the world was.  Surviving the coming months and years would be like  weathering one of these super storms.  But he would not be stopped.  He  would emerge from the tempest stronger than ever, and these challenges  would forge him and his country into the weapon that would drive the  devils from his rightful home.   He pictured banners flying above his  troops as they entered Egorian, and suddenly he knew what country they  represented.  Stormvale.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

[h=2]*Stolen Land:  Part 4
**
Dante*[/h] It had been 7 days since Dante had last seen the sky.  It was an  unnerving feeling to look up and see only the ceilings of the massive  chambers the Dwarves had cut into the mountains.  Why did such short  people make such big rooms?   

The journey itself had not been too  difficult.  Convincing a Dwarven Master to teach him how to smith  adamantine was a bit more challenging.  Gold ultimately got things  moving.


He looked back down at the furnace.  The metal shard was glowing the  perfect yellow-orange color, indicating it was ready to be worked.  He  brought it to the anvil and grabbed hold of a hammer the dwarven smiths  used.  It was twice the weight he was accustomed to.


 “Now this piece of metal isn’t going to lie back and let you have  your way with it like some tavern wench you got drunk during merry mead.   If you want to shape it, you have to use force.”


 Dante had no idea what Master Dolgrin was saying, but he thought it  best not to ask.  This had been a frequent occurrence over the past few  days.  He had gotten by so far mostly by nodding and smiling whenever  the old dwarf made a reference he didn’t understand.


 “Each strike must be as if you were smiting an Arch-Demon.  All of  your might and precision expelled into a single swing of the hammer. “  That one he understood.


 He began striking the shard in an attempt to create a 90 degree angle  at one end.  Each strike of the hammer rang up his arm uncomfortably.


 “So you’re a paladin of Kord huh?”  Dante nodded but continued to  focus on his work.  “I knew a priest of Kord once.  Tough son of a  bitch.  I once saw him wrestle a bear!  He wasn’t rowing with both oars  if you catch my meaning.”


Dante didn’t, but smiled politely. He didn’t think wrestling Barry  would be a good idea.  Master Dolgrin peered over at Dante’s work so  far.


“Yes, much better.  You’ve come a long way in just a couple of days.   You’ve got the principles down.  Now it’s just a matter of practice.”   The dwarf paused and seemed to consider Dante carefully.  “Do you really  believe that shard is part of an angel’s soul?”


He thought back to the dream.  It seemed more real every day.  “I do.”  The old dwarf laughed.


“Well you tell the gods that if they send me anything from heaven,  I’d prefer she have a couple of large peaks and low standards.”


“I’m not sure I…oh.  I get it.”


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 4*

[h=2]*Asta*[/h] 

Asta set down the heavy book she’d been reading with a sigh. Still  nothing. She looked around the small castle room that she had  appropriated and saw Skyyd, laying on his back in a sunbeam, and smiled.  He looks happy… I know so little about all of this, but I’ve never  heard of anything like — Skyyd stretched out a paw lazily and looked  over at her with a toothy smile.


 “You’re right, Skyyd. This group, this charter. It’s more than we  could ever have hoped for. Friends, a home, and finally a chance to  maybe find out what all this means. I know that you were kind of thrust  on me…” She pauses for a second and a cloud passes over her face, but  Skyyd pads over and butts her hand with a whuff, and she smiles again.  “And I’m so thankful for the friend that you’ve been. But it’s time for  me to start learning what this is all about. It’s time for me to start  growing up.”


She looked around again at the books and scrolls she’d gathered  around her. Never in all her travels had she had so much knowledge and  opportunity at her fingertips. At least Papa taught me how to read, how  many girls in the village could say that? And still she hadn’t learned  anything more than she already knew about Skyyd, or Summoning. But there  were more books out there… She and Skyyd had travelled far, and there  might be farther to go. But she’d figure this out.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

[h=2]*Stolen Land:  Part 4
**
Meric*[/h] A light rain fell on Meric’s face as he looked over the ramparts of  the castle’s tallest tower – the highest point in Stag’s End. He’d been  spending more and more time up here lately, whenever he could free  himself from the meetings and trade agreements that had been  monopolizing his time over the past several months. Stormvale extended  as far as the eye could see in every direction. By now, he’d memorized  nearly every one of the rolling hills on the horizon. The work was  progressing; the road connecting Stag’s End to Restov was finished,  which should bring a fresh wave of settlers and an influx of trade  goods. The workers moved with certainty. They were people who had come  to build something for themselves.


Not fast enough, he thought. At this rate, they’d never be a threat  to his cousin. Hells, the entire barony was barely the size of one  Chelish legion. He had to push Stormvale’s boundaries as far as  possible, as fast as possible – it was the only way to avenge his  parents, his grandfather, everyone in Cheliax killed during the  Pretender’s rebellion. He could feel his fingernails digging into his  palms. Raindrops began turning to steam as they struck his bare flesh.


“M’lord?” A serving girl, her green hood raised against the rain. It  was coming down harder now. “Your council is asking after you.” He  sighed and nodded. The girl came closer to the ramparts.


“I think you’ve got a few more minutes. Lady Siv’s bear got into the  kitchens and gave the scullery maids quite a fright. It will take a  while to get everyone calmed down.” A grin crept across Meric’s face,  almost against his will.


“Not to worry; he isn’t dangerous.” Meric had once seen Barry eat a man’s face. “My thanks for the warning…”


“Jess. It’s my pleasure, m’lord.”


“You have an interesting accent. Where are you from?”


She turned and looked out at the hills. “Westcrown.”


“_What?_ Really?…What’s it like?” The maid bit her lip and squinted.


“I don’t…it’s nice, in a way. The buildings all match. Everywhere  smells of flowers. It hums. There’s a humming.” She paused. “I like it  better here.”

 “Uh…that’s good to hear.” Listen to me. I’ve never even been there. They stood and looked out at Stormvale together in the rain.







 “Seriso synr asanm.  Mallik nonsomnys.”  The words rang out in  Meric’s mind as if they had been shouted.  He comprehended them  immediately, but it took a moment longer to realize they were spoken in  infernal.  “Awake young lord.  The mantis does not sleep tonight.”  A  sense of dread overcame him.  Scanning the room he perceived no one.  He  dressed swiftly and ran to his door.  Both guards he had stationed  there stood attentively.  He ordered the first to go rouse 

Dante, Siv  and Asta while the other followed him to Brook’s room.


His heart dropped when he rounded the corner to her door and saw both  of Brook’s guards dead, their throats slit.  He threw open her door  expecting the worst.  She was nowhere to be found.  Meric found himself  thanking the gods for Brook’s insomnia.  There might still be time.


He scrambled to the outer walls which would afford him a view of  nearly the entire castle.  Perhaps 40 feet in front of him stood Brook.   Unharmed and staring off across Stag’s End.  Relief was replaced with  terror as shadowy figure dropped down behind her and silently withdrew a  long saber-toothed sword.


Meric couldn’t close the distance in time.  The Red Mantis raised his  blade.  Both were caught off guard when Dante tackled the assassin to  the ground.  The mantis quickly flipped back to his feet.  Dante stood  between him and Brook.  

Meric’s priority was getting her out of harm’s  way.  He ran and cast invisibility on her.


“Run!”


He turned back to the fight to see Dante take a swing with his hammer  that the Mantis ducked under with ease.  This assassin moved like  liquid.  He carried his momentum from dodging the attack into getting  behind Dante.  He buried one of his blades deep into Dante’s back.   Meric used Ray of frost.   Dante’s hammer began to glow blue and he  smote the assassin repeatedly.  Meric was impressed by Dante’s  improvement, but he couldn’t defeat a red mantis.  This fight wasn’t  going to last long if they didn’t get help.


Help came all at once.  Skyyd and Barry galloped up the stairs  towards them, and a huge Roc flew up and began attack the Mantis from  above.  He assumed it to be a wild-shaped Siv. It was astonishing how  long the assassin stood his ground against the onslaught.  Eventually,  the wounded Mantis leapt from the Castle wall.  Dante did not hesitate,  and jumped to follow.  Meric didn’t have time to warn him that the  Assassin had cast safe-fall before leaping.  He cringed as he heard  Dante hit the ground with a thud.  The others began to jump as well,  most managing to land more gracefully than the Paladin.


In a desperation move, the Mantis cast a spell that surrounded him  with fog.  But there were no nearby structures he could use to give the  group the slip.  Meric couldn’t see through the fog whether it had been  Skyyd or Barry who had delivered the killing blow.  But he did see what  came after.  The assassin’s body vaporized into a red mist.  All of its  equipment remained, but gone was any hope of interrogating him to learn  more about the Red Mantis.


“Is Brook ok?”  said Asta with concern.  Brook had already been made invisible before she arrived to the fight.


“Yes, we got to her just in time.”  He grabbed the assassin’s helmet  and stared at it.  They would never stop hunting him and Brook.  They  would both be dead now if not for the warning he had received in his  sleep.  An infernal warning.  His blood ran cold.


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## atraiyu47 (Dec 11, 2012)

*Stolen Land:  Part 4*

[h=2]*Siv*[/h] 

The others seemed irritable, but Siv couldn’t muster much sympathy  for them.  They had put off the task of fully exploring the Narlmarches  to the west of the kingdom for too long already.  In the 7 months since  founding Stag’s End the group had grown a little soft.  None of the  others had slept outside on the ground during that time, and it was  clear they were missing their beds.


 Dante was openly bemoaning the quality of food she was foraging for  the group daily.  And though he was suffering silently, it was clear  Meric was miserable outside of the comforts of the city.


The role reversal did amuse her somewhat.  She had been given fine  quarters in the castle, but hated sleeping where she couldn’t see the  stars.  She usually stayed in the courtyard with Barry on the nights she  spent in Stag’s End.  If she could stand months in the city, they could  stand a week in the woods.


“Something just bit me again.”   Dante complained while swatting at his neck.


“Don’t worry.  It’s definitely probably not fatal.”   Asta quipped.


“Right.  There are only 37 species of insect on this continent that  inject lethal poison upon biting.  The odds that it was one of them are  really low.  Not more than 1 in 10.”  Siv teased.


“Haha.  You guys are hilarious.”  Was Dante’s only reply.


“Is it normal for there to be a yellow ring developing around the  bite?”  Meric stated matter of factly while examining Dante’s neck.


“What?!?”  Dante whipped his head around saw Meric smiling broadly.


“You guys are jerks.  Skyyd is the only one who understands me.”  The  tiger never missed an opportunity for attention these days and  responded to hearing his name by moving next to Dante and ramming his  head into the paladin’s hand.


A feeling of Déjà vu came over Siv.   This place felt familiar.  She  stopped and listened for a time.  They were close to the glade where she  and her mother lived in her youth.  After traveling a half mile west,  the group found a statue to Ehlonna.  The others had remained quiet as  she had led them here, but now Asta spoke up.


“Where are we Siv?”


“This is where I was raised by my mother.  She was a priestess of  Ehlonna.  This was our home.”  She found it hard to get the words out.   Being in this place made many of the emotions she felt as a child bubble  back to the surface.


“She was murdered by a tribe of orcs that invaded the area.  After  that a druid found me and took me in.  He taught me everything I know.”   No one pressed her for more information.


She scanned the horizon to the south and notice something was amiss.   The Narlmarches were green.  Everywhere you looked, nothing but every  shade of green.  To the south the landscape was scorched black.  A  wildfire seemed unlikely given how soaked these woods were year round.   They moved to investigate.


The forest was dying.  Death was radiating out from a point several  miles to the south.  Every plant, every tree and every insect was dead.   What remained was a foul lifeless swamp.  A number of small animal  corpses could also be found.  It took all of her willpower to not  scream.


“There’s a dead horse over there.” Dante pointed in the direction of the animal’s corpse.


Siv immediately saw Dante’s mistake.  “That’s not a horse.  It’s a unicorn.  Its horn has been cut off.”


“That will fetch some scavenger a hefty price.”  Meric added.  “What could do all this?”


“I don’t know but, we’re going to find out.”  Siv could barely  contain her rage as she spoke.  It nearly blinded her to the stranger in  the tree’s a hundred feet behind them who had trained a bow in the  group’s direction.


“We have company.  At the treeline.   Human female aiming a bow right  at us.” Siv avoided looking directly at the woman as she informed the  others.


“How long has she been there?” Meric inquired.


“Long enough that I don’t think she intends to start a fight.” Siv  thought it a reasonable conclusion, but reading a strangers motives was  always tricky.


“Let’s find out.”  Meric moved a few feet in the woman’s direction  and called out.  “I am Meric Thorn, Baron of Stormvale.  We have no  quarrel with you.  I would appreciate it if you did not train your  weapon on my allies and myself.”


The woman considered his words for a moment before lowering her bow  and stepping out into the open.  She did not un-nock the arrow.  Siv  guessed her to be a ranger.  “I take it you’re not responsible for all  of this then.  Hard to see how a baron could profit from destroying his  own lands in this manner.”


“We only just arrived.  What do you know of what’s happening here?” Meric replied.


“Whatever this is, it’s radiating out in a circle.  It spreads a few  feet every day.”  The ranger knelt down to the ground at the edge of  where everything had turned black.  She pulled some grass from the  ground and held it up for the group to see.  It was brown and dry though  it was the middle of summer and still the rainy season.  “It’s already  dying.  By month’s end it will have spread to the glade just to the  north of here.”


Siv’s anger rose again.  “If it’s radiating out in a circle then  there is a center.  Did you try to find the source?”  Immediately after  she said it she realized it was a bit harsh.


“I’m not in a habit of rushing alone into regions where every living  thing has been killed by unknown means.”  Siv could hardly argue with  the woman’s point.


“I’m sorry.  This is just a lot to take in.”


“You’re a druid aren’t you?”  Siv only nodded in reply.  “Well if you  didn’t get angry about this sort of thing you’d be a pretty lousy one.   My name is Sariah.  I sometimes travel through this region and am  pretty familiar with the Narlmarches.  

If you’re going to investigate  this, I’d like to help.”


“Thank you.” Siv looked up to the rest of the group.  “We need to hurry.  I will not see any more of my home destroyed.”


“Lead the way Siv.”   With those words from Meric they headed south  at an accelerated pace.  After several hours the group reached the point  they approximated to be the center of the destruction.  Sariah scouted a  bit ahead of the others.  Despite the circumstances, Siv was glad to  have someone else around who appreciated the wild places.  Sariah  swiftly ran back to the group.  Siv could only assume she had spotted  something.


“There are four men on the other side of that hill, possibly bandits.   They’re the only living thing for miles besides us.  Something is  terribly wrong here.”  Sariah sounded genuinely unnerved. Meric began to  speak.


“Let’s not give our position away to them yet.  Let’s go to the top of the hill and take a look.  Quietly everyone.”  _Easy for him to say.  He’s probably going to make himself invisible again like during the wyvern incident._


Siv crawled to a point on the hill where she could glance over the  edge with only the slightest portion of her head being visible.  Just as  Sariah had explained, four men sat in the middle of nowhere equipped  similarly to the bandits whom had been in service to the Stag Lord.


“What are they doing here?  It doesn’t make sense.  There’s no food or shelter, and certainly nothing to steal.” Asta whispered.


At this, Meric stood and shouted to the men.  “Hail!” The four men  were startled and immediately reached for their weapons.  They began to  charge towards the hill.  Meric turned back to the group. “Well, they’re  not very friendly are they?”


“I don’t have time for this.” Siv stood and began to cast Stone Call.   Small rocks began to rain on the men like hail.  All four were knocked  to the ground by the bombardment.  When it ended, there was no movement  from any of them.


“There’s no way those guys were the cause of all this.”  Sariah said, stating the obvious.


“There’s something evil nearby.”  Dante began looking around trying  to identify the location of the presence he was sensing.  His expression  changed to one of surprise when he turned to face behind the party.


Siv pivoted to see what appeared to be a beautiful elf with bright  red hair and pale, almost grey skin.   A feeling that this woman was a  trusted friend passed over, and nearly overwhelmed her will.  She  recognized the effect of the charm spell and shook it off.  Meric, Asta  and Sariah all stared at the woman with loving expressions.  Asta began  to walk forward towards her, but Skyyd gently grabbed a strap on the  back of her armor with his mouth and held her from moving.  

Dante was  shaking his head trying to clear it.


Siv was now sure this was an Unseelie Nymph.  Their presence drains  the beauty from everything around them.  Killing her would allow the  forest to begin to heal.  Unseelie nymphs rely on the protection of  their charmed victims.  Once she attacked, Siv knew the others whom had  been charmed would come to the creature’s aid.  Barry growled at the  nymph and charged.  Siv unleashed an attack of her own.  The nymph had  no time to call her charmed allies to defend her.   

The fight was over  in seconds.


Those whom had been charmed were immediately freed of the effect.  Siv stared at the devastation left in the creature’s wake.

_
She must have been here for more than a year.  If we had scouted this area sooner, we could have prevented all of this._


Siv was upset with herself for not pushing the group to explore the  rest of the Narlmarches sooner.  She would never let something like this  happen again.  The wild areas were under her protection.  Those who  threatened them would regret it.


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## atraiyu47 (Feb 1, 2013)

*Rivers Run Red: Prologue[h=2]Meric[/h]

*Meric entered the library flanked by two guards, bootheels clacking against the stone floor. He had to admit that the building was rather out of place outside the castle walls, its marble facade a stark contrast to the rough stone buildings surrounding it. Looking up at the rows of bookshelves which dominated the interior, Meric hoped that enough of the people were literate to make good use of it.

“Your lordship. What can I do for you today?” A sage’s apprentice approached Meric, twisting his fingers nervously.

“I’ll need every book you have on Infernalism.”

The apprentice paused. “All of them?”

“…Just how many books on Infernalism do you have here?” The boy gulped.

“Not many, your lordship. Just a moment.” The apprentice scurred off, returning a short time later carrying a stack of four books. “This is everything.”

“Excellent. Redder, let’s get these back to the castle. My thanks.”

“Your lordship? We, ah, do not typically permit the books to be removed-”

“I do not think it prudent to make books on such a subject available on an unrestricted basis. If anyone is interested in studying these, you may send them to inquire with me at the castle.” Meric turned and exited the building, the apprentice stammering behind him.






In his private chambers, Meric contemplated the books. Destroying them was a bad idea. They might contain information that could be useful in retaking Cheliax. Or… He thought back to the chilling voice that had awoken him on the night of the Red Mantis attack, somehow speaking directly into his mind. Suppressing a shudder, he opened the first book.

“Doing some light reading baron?”

Meric turned to see a man sitting in a nearby chair. He did not know how this intruder had gotten in, but he didn’t hear or see a thing. The man was dressed like a rich noble of Brevoy would be. Closer inspection revealed is a light red tint to his skin, and small horns on his head.

“I apologize for arriving unannounced, but the penalty for Devil worship in your lands is a bit…extreme. I can only imagine what the penalty for being an actual devil is.” He smiled warmly.

“Find anything of interest to you?”

Meric raised both eyebrows in surprise, then leaned back in his chair. 

“Something about how the only way to determine whether someone is actually communicating with devils or whether they’re insane is through lobotomy. I suppose I’ll have to have faith that you’re actually here.” Meric poured himself a glass of wine and closed the book in front of him.

“Why are you here, incidentally? It seems there are several other members of my family with whom your time would be more constructively spent.”

“I suppose that would depend on what I was trying to accomplish.” The devil stood and bowed formally to Meric. “I am Rumjal. Formally a duke of Malboge, the sixth layer of Baator. Currently I am best described as a free agent.” He began walking slowly towards a nearby window and peered out while speaking.

“Stormvale has grown swiftly. You should be proud. Mighty empires have failed to tame these lands. I expect that it will continue to grow and and become a force in the inner sea.” He looked back at Meric over his shoulder.

“Assuming your cousin doesn’t kill you first.”

Meric took note of the euphemisms that the devil had used – Baator instead of Hell, free agent instead of…outcast?

“It’s good to hear you believe in our abilities,” said Meric dryly. “I assume that what you’re trying to accomplish is not simply reminding me that my cousin is dangerous; I learned that lesson the day she had my family murdered by the Red Mantis.”

“Yes I suppose you did. That was an especially brilliant piece of paranoia on her part. She had no reason to believe you or your family posed even the slightest threat to her. And yet there you were, chartered by Brevoy to claim a nation of your own.” He slowly walked and returned to his original seat.

“Of course she missed the only target that mattered. Tell me Meric, what is your plan for dealing with the Red Mantis? I may not be able to warn you the next time they are coming. I suppose you could simply stay alive long enough to build this Barony into a full fledged nation and become a rightfully seated king. That would solve your problem.” The devil moved one leg so that it was resting on the other and reclined comfortably in the seat.

“But what of dear Brook? The Mantis will not hesitate to keep coming after her.” The devil turned his head to the side slightly as if an idea had suddenly come upon him.

“Unless of course you intend to take her as your queen. Yes that would solve this problem permanently.” His smile walked the line between genuine and mocking.

“All of these sound like my problems. What I’m still not sure about is why they concern you. Unless…did my cousin send you to act as a constant reminder of my situation, to maximize my suffering before I’m killed? She’s more devious than I suspected!”

“The nine hells are known for many things Meric but I assure you that consensus is not one of them. For every plot weaved that would benefit from the success of your cousin, there are three that would benefit from her failure. Let it suffice to say that it is in my interest to see you and your nation succeed. To that end, I shall offer you aid where I can. I fully understand your hesitation in accepting any advise from a devil so I will make this easy on you.” Rumjal stood and straightened his vest.

“Events are going to begin unfolding rapidly in the Stolen Lands. This little scrap of no where you have claimed is far more valuable than it appears at first glance. Numerous parties are moving to establish a foothold. As an act of good faith, I offer you this free of charge. There is a demonic cult operating out of Stag’s End. You will want to eliminate it before things get out of hand. I suggest you begin your search in the brothel.” He begans to walk away, but then turned back to Meric.

“One last thing. The Mantis have spies in every city.” The devil looked around briefly in all directions. “Even brand new ones. You have given them reason to pause before another assault. Eliminating their informant in the castle would give them further reason to delay. Might I suggest that accepting a bribe from an assassin to aid in murder is an objectively evil act.” Rumjal smiled and began to walk away. After a few steps he vanished from sight.


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## atraiyu47 (Feb 1, 2013)

*Rivers Run Red: Prologue*[h=2]Siv[/h]
Bokken was like a jittery bird. He seemed to be full of nervous energy that was constantly battling to escape. Siv had noticed it a year ago when the group had first met him at his little hut, but it seemed more pronounced now. It was the way his head snapped back and forth between whatever was dividing his attention.

He didn’t like visitors, and seemed eager to quickly end any conversation that Siv tried to engage him in. Fortunately he did like gold, which enabled her to make use of his expertise in potions. She had found an unusual patch of flowers while traveling near the Oak-Top Silver mine. They were a large rose like flower with huge thorns. From these thorns dripped a rather nasty poison.

They clearly were not native to the area. Yet despite Siv’s expertise in plant life, she could not identify them. Stag End’s library and the resources of Stormvale’s priests also turned up no information. She had brought a sample to Bokken in hopes that he could shed some light on this mystery.

“Where did you find this?” was his only reply when she showed him the flower. He didn’t wait for an answer before taking the sample to a work bench and carefully extracting some of the poison for testing. Siv had been waiting for several hours for him to finish his analysis.

“I cannot help you identify this flower. I have never seen it before. But I can tell you what the poison is. The Tears of death. One of the rarest and nastiest poisons in existence.”

“Doesn’t knowing the poison tell you what flower it came from? If it’s a known poison then it must have a known source.”

“It does. The Tears of Death is a man-made poison. It is created by combining a half dozen rare venoms under precise conditions. It’s not made from any flower.”

Siv was annoyed. “Clearly it is. I just handed you one.”

“I’ve told you everything I know. The poison is man-made. I trust that ends our transaction.” With that Bokken retreated to his hut. Siv was left with more questions than answers.


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