Kingmaker+Session+10

** Kingmaker Session 10** **The Celebration in Bloodstone, A Trap from the East, and Starting the New Kingdom**

The companions had sent word to Bloodstone about their victory over the Stag Lord. The city was overjoyed, sending back rewards, an invitation to a victory celebration, and a new writ to cultivate the land they obtained. The celebration was to take place in 1 month.

It was the height of winter... cold... and snow was piled around the fort and against the walls of Oleg's Trading Post. Travel to Bloodstone took 2 weeks in the bitter cold and heavy snow, with Naahir huddling close to the others for heat, especially to Thrice who always seemed to radiate with her own warmth.

Music was playing in the Dragon Palace in Bloodstone. The grand doors opened up to reveal the hall's vaulted ceilings soaring 30 feet above the red carpeted floor. It was packed with people, and there was a murmuring among the crowd as they watched the adventurers parade in.

A paladin dressed in elegant armor emblazoned with a great silvery dragon on a sea of blue welcomed them in. Lyssa recognized the holy symbol of Bahamut, the platinum dragon god of justice and good. The overall dragon motif of the hall seemed to be in pledge of Bahamut... even the throne of the king of Bloodstone was carved in tribute to the great platinum dragon. There was a story that the king had been a paladin of Tyr, but during his quest to take down the witch king in Vaasa, he had received aid from Bahamut who had told him how to destroy the wand of orcus by bathing it in Tiamat's heart blood... destroying the wand had created a demon bane gem that was planted in Bloodstone to blossom into a great white tree that kept demons and devils out of the country. In reverence of that aid... King Gareth the first had become a paladin of Bahamut with Tyr's blessing.

"Lords and Ladies of the Green Belt," the group was welcomed warmly and the crowd all turned to gaze at them. "This is acceptable," Thrice nodded, speaking quietly as they walked down the hall, "Yes, stare at us. We are important."  Sen laughed softly beside her. The group was swept into the next room where they recognized Christos Medici and Tanya Vosto standing with their group.  The two came over to greet everyone with the charismatic bard kissing the back of each of the ladies' hands, "It is good to see you all again. Congratulations on your defeat with the stag lord."

 "Thank you," Lorwyn nodded, returning their greetings, "Were you able to find your friend? The sorceress who went missing in the Emerald Spire?" "No, we have not found her yet... she is deep within the tower. We have made several attempts, but we had to deal with trolls in our lands. We have just finished dealing with that matter and received the writ from the king like yourselves," Christos answered. Tanya nodded in agreement, "I believe the third group to the east has also pacified the locals as well... in fact I believe one of the delays in the celebration was so that all three groups would arrive at the same time." "That spire is no gentle place," Aeonil shook her head, "I hope that your friend hasn't had something horrible befall her." "Horrific intelligent spiders... that cast spells... and set traps!" Lorwyn agreed.

Trumpets sounded from the back of the room, and a shout could be heard, "All hail King Gareth Dragonbane the First of Bloodstone," as everyone turned to see an older looking paladin dressed in the elegant armor of Bahaumt. The hall fell silent as the people took a knee and bowed their heads in formal respect. He sat heavily down into his throne next to a man who was clearly his son. Six other seats had been placed beside them. The king waved a hand toward himself, "Will the three brave adventurous groups please step forward?"

The full group of companions walked forward alongside Christos, Tanya, and a couple of others that made up their group as well as the third group... A big burly man, nearly 7 ft tall, dressed in his finest furs... a barbarian of the blue elk clan wearing a symbol of Tempus. He glanced at Lyssa dismissively, "You're the smallest priest of Tempus that I've ever seen." Naahir glanced at the two, and leaning over to Thrice he nodded toward Lyssa, "I've got 5 gold on the warpriest." The tiefling smiled and nodded, her tail twitching as she watched.

The king stood, leaning on his holy avenger, "Thank you brave adventurers for putting an end to three growing threats rising in Vaasa to the lands of Damara. It shows that we chose wisely in our gambit to tame the wilderness, and we owe you our thanks. Let it be known that these adventures, having delivered the southern reaches of Vaasa from the various scourges of banditry, trolls, and bug bears... and having provided detailed maps of the lay of the land... and having no small amount of work in the exploration of said lands... and the culling of hostile monsters and other hazards... are hereby granted the right to rule. The nature of laws and rules are theirs to determine. The well being of this new land is theirs to protect. In accordance, providing a state of land to the west of Damara, let a generous stipend of funds provide support as a token of Bloodstone's and my good will so that future relations between us might be mutually beneficial. So witnessed under the watchful eye of myself, Lord Bahamut, and the other gods of justice... By the authority vested in me as King of this nation."

The groups made their bows and the gathered crowd gave a thunderous applause as several shouts of "Hail King Gareth!" and "Hail Bloodstone!" rang out. "My lord is too generous," Aeonil bowed very courtly in appreciation. Gareth smiled, "We shall see how generous you think I am once the weight of rulership has fallen on your shoulders. It is no small responsibility that you will be tasked to. There are... I hate to cast dispersion on my fellow man... but there are many that will seek to come to your lands to settle... not just for the opportunity, but perhaps fleeing a poor situation from elsewhere. Many will see it as an opportunity for a new start... and many will have... shall we say... checkered backgrounds." The large barbarian priest of Tempus from the third group glanced at the companions, sneering at Thrice and muttering, "You mean like demonspawn?" The young aasimar oracle scowled toward the barbarian and put a protective arm around her alchemist friend. "At least we're not decked out in furs like some wild wombat... we don't have any 7 ft tall badgers in our group," Thrice muttered. Sen giggled and nodded. Aeonil shrugged, "I'm sure it didn't take them that long to shave him down."

King Gareth continued on, "There will be others speaking to you as well... but for now please enjoy the celebration. This is a momentous time. Bahamut's platinum gaze watch over you." In the 6 chairs surrounding the King and his son were 3 older noble couples. 1 pair went off to each of the three groups.

A half-elven couple came over to greet the companions, "Who speaks for your group?" "We all speak for ourselves," Senathliel nodded to them. "Well she's a bold one," the half-elven woman laughed to her husband. "Well then," the half-elven man nodded and looked over the group. No one had to nudge Thrice as she loved all of the attention of importance, and the young alchemist stepped forward to shake his hand. "My, you are quite striking, Miss... Thrice, is it?" the half-elven noble looked her over with a little awe. "It is," the young tiefling nodded and gave him a sultry smile, "And I am." "I am Kearney Celadon, the duke of Brandiar . We, along with the other dukes..." he introduced themselves, and gestured toward the barbarian's group, "Theodosis Helmont the sixteenth, the duke of Carmathan, and..." he nodded toward Christos's group, "the duke of Arcata, Willhem Hargath the ninth..." "They apparently like those names a lot," Naahir nodded. Thrice grinned and nodded, "They're very creative with their naming."

 Kearney continued, leaning on his cane, "As King Gareth had stated... the kingdom of Bloodstone is going to offer you supplies and manpower to help bring about your new lands and each of the duchies has volunteered to sponsor a group... and I am your sponsor." "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Aeonil nodded. Lorwyn nodded, adding, "Welcome to the team." "I had heard only very little," Kearney nodded and gestured toward the half elven woman beside him, "My wife, Anya, and I would love to hear these rousing tales of you striking down this stag lord and putting an end to the bandits." Anya laughed softly, "My husband used to be an adventurer like yourselves. In his youth he traveled with Gareth Dragonsbane himself, and helped to liberate Bloodstone." Naahir tilted his head, looking at the elder half-elven duke, "Well then I'm sure it is you who could tell the tales." Kearney smiled, "Oh... I could... but my mind wanders now. If only I'd had a scribe to write it all down for me." "Well then by all means..." Aeonil laughed and tipped a bottle over the glass in his hand, "let's refill that brandy glass."

He nodded, accepting the drink, "There are others who would like to meet you, of course... but if you don't mind, I'd like to take up some of your time." "Absolutely," Thrice nodded, settling in with her own glass. "It's the least we can do for our sponsor," Aeonil agreed, sitting down. "As you know, it will be quite the challenge," the elder duke began, "It was for me... after leading a simple bard's life and traveling the world. Neither of the other duke's were King Gareth's companions at all... as you can probably tell from the "16th"... they come from a long line of nobles." "Soft hands," Naahir agreed.

Kearney nodded, "And so I would like to offer some insight into some things that you will have to do. You, of course, don't have to make any rush decisions right now... but we will be sending along shipments of stone and timber for you to work with. You'll have to determine what you want to do with these funds... and you'll have to choose amongst yourselves different duties. One of you will need to be the ruler... there is no "rule by committee" in these lands... they will become the new baron of your new lands... and you will need to come up with a name for those lands, unless you just want to call it the Green Belt which of course you may. You will also need to choose a councilor... someone who is wise and can advise the ruler. Some of the positions may remain vacant, but some are important." Zura wrinkled up her brow and nose at such thoughts... what sort of adventuring was all of this talk?

Kearney smiled and continued undaunted, "There will need to be someone in charge of your army, someone in charge of diplomacy, someone in charge of spying on other people... King Gareth may not approve of such things, but we all know how the real world works. There will need to be a treasurer for your kingdom. A warden... someone to help maintain the peace in the lands itself. A high priest... especially if you choose to focus your lands on a particular god.. or even which gods will be welcomed in your lands. You will need to decide which of these roles each of you will be good at it... start small and work your way up. Since you took the Stag Lord's fort, it has a foundation you can build on." Sen looked thoughtful at this and nodded, "We'll have to remove those zombie land mines." "Zombie land mines?" Kearney raised an eyebrow and turned to her with interest, "That sounds like an exciting story!" The group told him the tale of the fall of the Stag Lord.

"Another word of advice... the duchies of Damara here are... well there is much political maneuvering and some competition... so I am sure that Lords Helmont and Hargath will be sure that the groups they are sponsoring are part of the competition." "Certainly," the elven swashbuckler nodded, "It only makes sense." "I, however, am above such things," Kearney nodded. A small smirk played on Aeonil's lips, "Of course you are..." Senathliel looked over the half elven bard, looking for that tell-tale sign of deceit, and he gave her a quick wink that made her blush. "I should turn you loose to enjoy the celebration... you don't want to talk to an old half-elf the entire time," Kearney nodded, gesturing for them to go, "Please, go dance and enjoy the festivities. I'm sure we'll speak again." The young oracle offered him her first dance, and he accepted with a bow, "I'd be delighted." Lairesul offered his arm to Lorwyn, "You don't want Miss Sen to have all of the fun..." The red-haired elven woman took his arm and followed him out to dance.

Naahir retired to the quiet of the shadows to observe the opponents of the room. The hall was mostly human, but there was a small group of dwarves dressed finely in bloodstone gemmed armor. A group of similarly dressed robed figures seemed to belong to a school of wizardry. There were not many elves... but there were 3 of them closing in toward Aeonil. Thrice quickly stepped in the way, striking up a conversation with the elven swashbuckler to draw her attention to see the three closing in, "Quite the party, isn't it?"

The white-haired elven woman paled in shock as she looked past the beautiful tiefling in front of her to recognize her cousin, Prince Tyrian of the Sun's Heart far to the north, striding toward her with a white-haired elven man bearing a crest of the Embermoon family from Drannor, the Crescent City in Cormanthor ... and a red-haired elven woman dressed as a paladin of Corellion and bearing sigils of Myth Coramanth in Rawlinswood. Three different branches of elves all striding with purpose toward her...

"Aeonil, cousin," the elven prince greeted her warmly. "My Lord," the young swashbuckler swept a graceful bow before him, "What brings you so far from home?" "We had heard that you were going to be here, so I made some arrangements to meet you with several others," Tyrian gestured to the paladin woman, "This is Kierahleigh Sunglaive from Myth Coramanth," and then turned to gesture to the elven nobleman to his left, "And Haemir Embermoon of Drannor." "A pleasure to meet both," Aeonil bowed in formal greeting. "I have been speaking with Kiera about those who you were seeking... and they have been found," he nodded to her. "Excellent!" the young elven woman nodded with pleasant surprise, "And they are well?" "Yes," he nodded, "One in particular... she's not here at the party... but we have brought her along... and Lady Sunglaive is leaving with Lord Embermoon as an envoy to the Cormanthor Forest." "How jealous I am for you," Aeonil nodded to Kierahleigh, "I have longed to see the woods of old." "We certainly wouldn't prevent you from visiting," Haemir smiled at her.

 "Lord Embermoon is trying to steal my own elves away from me," Tyrian smiled, jesting at the nobleman tailor before turning to Aeonil, "If at all possible, I have a request of you..." The young swashbuckler blinked with surprise and bowed her head, "You have only to name it..." "I would like to put this young elven girl in your care... to be raised since her parents were killed. She has no family back at Sun's Heart," He nodded to her. "By all means, my lord," Aeonil nodded. Tyrian smiled and nodded, "That is the first part that I ask of you..." "It'll be an interesting task given recent developments," she nodded. "Yes, I've heard that you're bringing the elves great honor... and that brings me to the second part that I wished to ask of you," Tyrian nodded, "I would like for you to remain with your companions as there are no other of The Sun's Heart People here to represent... and I would like for any elves that come to your lands to have an advocate." "Certainly," Aeonil nodded, "I had no plans to go anywhere anytime soon, so this will not be a problem." "Well I know that there are beautiful forests that you want to visit," Tyrian glanced over at Haemir who smiled. "And there are," Aeonil agreed, nodding, "but I have many years left... and there will always be time for travel." He nodded, "And now, of course, you would give me the honor of dancing with my cousin?" Aeonil accepted his offered arm, "Indeed."

Zura was watching the celebration. There were a few half-orcs mingling about. She spun around deftly as someone tapped her on the shoulder, her hands going to her axe. A large and dapper half-orc of about 7 feet stood before her. The half-orc inquisitor woman, only a few inches shorter, tilted her head slightly, "Hmm, it's not too often that I have to look up to someone..." He had green skin and tusks, but was wearing very formal attire and spoke with a rich cultured voice, "Pardon me, ma'am, but I couldn't help noticing you were without a dance partner... would you mind if I rectify that situation?" Zura slowly released her hand from the hilt of her great axe, and nodded, offering her hand.

He swept her across the floor, and she followed easily, "You've caught me by surprise. You're quite the dancer." "You as well," she nodded, pleasantly surprised. She caught sight of the silver chain around his neck bearing the symbol of Bahamut. "So, tell me sir... you never did introduce yourself as a proper gentleman should... what is your name?" "Oh! I'm terribly sorry," he shook his head, "My name is Wogworth... And I already know of you, Lady Tauzura... as you've made quite a name for yourself already with the people here." She nodded, "That does tend to happen as a person of my stature." "That and of our race," Wogworth nodded, "Many question our desire to live an honorable and just life... like anyone else." Zura nodded, agreeing, "That's because many do not seem to understand that the circumstances surrounding our birth were not of our choosing."

"Exactly, madam," he nodded, spinning her out around the dance floor, "I had heard the King's speech... and I have a proposition for you." The young half-orc woman raised an eyebrow, "Yes?" "I would assume, good madam, that at some point you would build a castle?" he asked. "Or something of the sort," she nodded, "Do you wish to labor in it?" "As a matter of fact... but perhaps not in the way you think..." he nodded, "I am a butler." "I'm not sure we have a use for a butler," she answered, mulling the strange thought around in her head. "I assure you my credentials are impeccable if you would care to see them," he spoke seriously. "Well, I'm sure that they are... but that's not a decision that's only up to me... but I'll relay the recommendation to my companions," she nodded, looking him over again. He was quite handsome and cultured. "I look forward to your discussion with your companions. Shall I get you a drink?" he asked. "Oh no, no... I get my own drinks," she shook her head. "Very good then," he nodded, taking it in stride, and bid her farewell. She watched him leave, taking note of the pointy bulges clinging to him.

Lyssa watched the others out on the dance floor when she heard a heavy thump on the ground heading her way. She looked back to see an elder human gentleman. He had short buzzed greying hair, and wore a burnished golden breastplate with a long fur-trimmed red cloak. There was an eyepatch over one of his eyes, partially covering a longer scar that ran from his forehead to his cheek. He was wearing an armored boot in place of the missing half of one of his legs... and that's what seemed to be heavily thumping as he walked. The holy symbol of Tempus, God of Battle, hung proudly around his neck. He looked down measuringly at the fair half-elven priestess, "You are sister Annalyssa of Tempus?"

"Yes," she nodded, looking him over curiously "And you are?" "Ragnar Thundermane," he answered, extending his right hand, "You come well met." Lyssa shook his hand, nodding, and noticed he was also missing his left hand. She recognized his name as the high priest of Tempus from Phlan in the Moonsea area. He was a famous battle lord of countless battles. "I heard tales of your heroic victory over the Stag Lord. You are a proud and mighty warrior of Tempus," he nodded to her approvingly. "I am just beginning," she nodded modestly, blushing at the praise. "We all have our beginnings, sister... but you already struck a blow against the craven cowards of banditry who seek in murder rather than battle. I look forward to your growth in the worship of Tempus," he nodded to her. "I will do my best," she bowed slightly in respect.

Naahir moved in closer to Thrice, observing the high priest missing half of a leg, a hand, and an eye, "He may want to invest in a better cleric..." Ragnar turned toward the cat folk, "These are badges of honor... given in the service of Tempus... I would not expect someone to understand." He turned his attention back to Lyssa, observing her to notice if she too wore any scars... She was nearly unmarred, with only faint scars that he had to search to find. He nodded to her, "You are less boastful than some." He glanced at the barbarian from the other group who was drunkenly laughing with a beautiful maiden on his lap. "I let my actions do my talking," she nodded.

"Well spoken," he agreed, "There is a time for boastfulness... but only to intimidate one's foe. I trust that in your new responsibilities that you will see that Tempus is properly honored." "I will do my best," she nodded again. "Excellent, it would be wondrous to see a temple of Tempus in your new lands," he nodded. "Perhaps someday," she agreed, "but we have a lot of work ahead." "Yes you do," he agreed, "Hopefully I will come to visit you when the weather is warmer... these old bones don't much care for the Damaran and Vaasan winters. We are well met, sister Lyssa. I wish you clean and honorable battles." "Thank you," she bowed respectfully in their farewell, "I wish you safe travels." As he walked, despite all of his injuries... he walked with confidence... a coiled power ready to be released as he walked back in among the crowd.

The celebration was pleasant and everyone had a good time feasting and dancing with several of the nobles in the room. Several even came to dance with Thrice once the alcohol was flowing freely and her beauty shined beyond her intimidating demonesque traits.

Naahir walked around outside where the cool air was almost refreshing from the crowded hall. Bloodstone was settled into a valley of towering mountains, and it was protected from the bitter cold of the winds on the open plains. The streets were well lit and orderly, designed by a paladin. The lights were on in the magic academy tower over the dark lake.

Christos Medici stepped out of the hall near him, escaping the crowd and publicity. He nodded to the catfolk, "Tanya and I spoke to Wilhem Horgath... as you no doubt spoke with Kearney." "Yes," Naahir nodded, "How did you find them?" "Mr. Horgath seems to be a bit of an opportunist. Though..." the bard glanced around to make sure no one had followed him out, and leaned closer as he spoke in hushed tones, "he's not terribly bright... I heard that years ago when the witch king was about, his family was a bit of a sycophant to the puppet ruler he installed." Naahir frowned, "That does not bode well..." "No... but that was Horgath the fifth or sixth," Christos reassured him, "Remember, of course, when King Gareth came to power that they all went behind him... Witch King bad, Gareth good, YAY!" he cheered mockingly, poking fun at the people before continuing more seriously, "But I'm willing to give it some time. I'm used to being accused of the actions of one's past family members doing." The catfolk nodded, "I can understand that."

The charismatic bard continued, "We shall see... it is actually more Helmont that I'm more worried about. There are rumors that his grandfather was involved with the grand master of assassins. The group of assassins that operated under the witch king that were stamped out. Nothing unlike the previous Horgath's toadying... nothing was ever proven about Helmont, but there are definitely rumors that his grandfather was involved... and Just speaking to him, Theodosis is an ambitious man."

"The Celadons seem genuine at least," Naahir nodded. "Yes... Not a noble by birth, but one of the heroes that traveled with Gareth... and as the old line of Brandiar was killed at the great battle against the witch king's army... Gareth rewarded his companion of land and title," Christos agreed. "He seems like a good man," the dark furred slayer nodded.

The Medici bard continued, "He did that for another as well... the duchy of Saravia who isn't here tonight. Owen Forestfriend was a companion of Gareth... a ranger or a druid, I'm not sure." "Interesting," Naahir nodded. "They are not here this evening as they are not one of the sponsors," Christos explained, "They are in the northeastern parts of Damara."

"I am no truthsayer," Naahir shook his head, "But should your sponsor prove less than honorable, call upon us." "Certainly," the bard nodded, "And that's why I wanted to warn you... Helmont's group is on your eastern border and you will have more contact with them than we will... so be careful. Though I imagine they, much like us, will be quite busy for some time trying to put their lands to order... but I would guess that Helmont is one of those long-term planners. Although his sponsorees maybe more immediate." He glanced at the raucous barbarian. "Perhaps," Naahir nodded, thanking him for the warning, "I'll try and keep you posted."

Everyone retired for the evening in the palace guest rooms and all was quiet and peaceful. Paladins and guards were plentiful in the city and the white tree was strong with power. Thrice did not sleep well... the power that ebbed from the tree made her itch like an old sunburn that wouldn't go quiet. Naahir, on the other hand, found it comforting and purred through the night.

In the morning the group spoke again with Kearney who assured them supplies would be sent as soon as he returned home. "When we have things suitable," Naahir nodded, "We would appreciate you coming out to visit." "Yes, of course," Kearney nodded, "Perhaps in the summer."

The group resupplied and, leaving the Bloodstone gates, traversed back through the windswept snowy plains and bitterly cold howling winds. They could only tell by a discolored hard packed mud amidst the drifts of snow where the road was. Naahir was the most miserable, wrapping his furred tail around himself as he shivered in the cold. Lorwyn and Lairesul kept their hooded cloaks drawn tight, and huddled a little closer with the catfolk. Lyssa and Zura seemed to handle it well, and Aeonil's new young apprentice clung close to her. Thrice sighed heavily, "I don't mind the snow... but it's all we've seen for over a week... boring!" Sen laughed, agreeing.

The sound of splintering wood and crashing could be heard from ahead. Naahir sprinted ahead of the others, snow packing into his paws. A merchant caravan of wagons that had been traveling down the road had been attacked... one of the wagons was destroyed and innocent horses were lying dead in the snow, blood all around them.

The whinny of other horses drew the catfolk's attention to where a couple of men-at-arms from the caravan were fighting enormous 7ft tall, fur-covered beasts wearing armor and wielding morning stars! Bugbears! One of the guards flew across the sky from the heavy impact of one of the beast's strike. Naahir whistled back for the group, and they rushed forward to join him.

The bugbears were laughing mockingly at the caravaneers. Aeonil glanced at the elven girl beside her, impressed that she had a dagger drawn, and swept her protectively behind her as she charged down the hill through the snow. Zura and Thrice moved in closer, weaving shields around themselves. Lairesul wove a mage armor around Lorwyn who moved swiftly to catch up to the swashbuckler. Senathliel followed them in, weaving a protective sanctuary around herself. Naahir dashed as a black streak across the white blanketed plains, and Lyssa followed the others in, wading her armor through the snow.

Lorwyn sent 2 glowing missiles sailing down into the bugbears. Aeonil's brow furrowed as she realized they were still east of their lands... the barbarian's group. This sort of thing didn't happen on the roads near the trading post. Was his group really slacking this much in the clearing of their lands? Zura charged forth, taking the lead, and drew her heavy bladed axe.

The bugbears turned and pointed, one of them shouting in a crude goblin, "Dey here!" Aeonil's eyes widened, they were expecting her group... it was a trap. She moved to intercept the bugbear heading directly for the red-haired sorceress, slashing him down with her blade! She explained her moves and the battle to the young girl behind her as they moved. A large humanoid figure with a bestial roar came out from behind the wagons, shaking snow off of his body. A hill giant.

The bugbears charged forward, one of them slamming a morning star into Zura's chest, denting in her armor! Thrice pulled up her crossbow, sending a bolt to pierce deeply into one of the beasts. Sen moved up quickly to help cover the young elven girl, following Aeonil in. One of the bugbears knocked Naahir's strike back with it's shield as Lyssa commanded another to attack his own companion.

Lorwyn moved in carefully, sweeping an arc of flame across the snow to sear into 2 bugbears. Zura struck mightily with her two-handed greataxe, gashing a deep wound across a beast's chest. The beasts charged in, one of them reacting to the warpriest's command, and swung into his companion attacking the half-orc, caving in it's skull! He shook his head, coming out of it and wailing, "What have I done?"

One of the beasts reached the catfolk, bashing the spiked ball of the morning star into him. The massive figure heaved a rock-like snowball at Lorwyn, smashing through her shield to impact into her... knocking her off of her feet unconscious into the snow! Lairesul rushed forward toward her.

Aeonil whipped her head around, barely avoiding the enormous rock that struck the sorceress behind her, and charged forward to meet the shield of the bugbear who was shaking off Lyssa's commands. Sen moved up beside Lairesul and touched the unconscious sorceress to heal some of her shattered bones. Thrice brought out one of her swirling reddish orange bottles, tossing it into one of the bugbears to engulf him in flames! A brief scream of agony wailed from the fiery explosion before it's body crashed to the ground! Lyssa whispered a new command into one of hairy beasts as Zura clashed her greataxe into the shield of another. Naahir could hear the warpriest's soft chanting behind him, and moved in to swipe his claws at one of the fearsome beasts. Lyssa stepped back and brought Lorwynelle back to conscious, the beating of her heart like the sound of wardrums in her ears. The sorceress stumbled back to her feet, thanking her. Zura gashed her greataxe heavily into the chest of a bugbear, and managed to easily avoid his backswing. One of the hairy beasts hit the catfolk soundly with the spiked ball of it's morning star, rocking Naahir back! Seeing the warpriest heal the sorceress, the enormous figure knocked her back with a heavy packed icy snowball! One of the bugbears heading for Lyssa exploded as Thrice threw another of her alchemical bombs, pieces of him spraying the ground! A warm pulse of energy radiated out from Sen as she healed her companions. Naahir, still badly damaged, vaulted off of the wagon to charge the giant in the back with his sharp claws! Lyssa moved across the battlefield with purpose, the words of Ragnar echoing in her head about paying homage to Tempus. Lorwyn sent another double magic missiles into the hill giant who scowled angrily in her direction. Zura cleaved the head from one of the bugbears, sending a splash of deep red over the white snow. The hill giant slammed it's it's club into the catfolk! Naahir stumbled in the snow, shaking his head and looking woozy as he gasped in deep breaths. His life flashed before his eyes as the giant's club swung a second time... close enough to brush his bloodied whiskers. Aeonil sent her now fearful ward to check on the wagoneers as she, herself, moved in deeper into battle. Sen hurried through the snow, and sent another pulse of healing energy to numb down some of the pain wracking the catfolk, allowing him to pull his blade and strike into the hill giant's thigh. Lyssa came up behind Naahir, touching his back to heal several of his wounds, and the hill giant took the opportunity to smash the warpriest with his club... dropping her unconscious to the ground! Lorwynelle moved off to the side, releasing a brilliant arcing flame to burn the hill giant, pulling his attention from the catfolk! He glared angrily, "I kill you again!" Zura charged through the snow, sliding under the wagon to spring up in front of the hill giant with her greataxe ready, only to have the maddened giant shove her back as he grabbed the wagon, flipping it over to clip the sorceress and land on the wagoneers and the young elven ward. The hill giant seethed with anger as Lorwyn still stood breathing, despite his plans. Thrice shattered an explosive vial on the ground to splash more fire over the hill giant. Aeonil quickly dove under the wagon to find her apprentice and the caravaneers safe, and began tearing through the cloth to get them out through the back. Naahir took position to team up with the great half-orc woman, swinging her two-handed axe. Zura regained her footing, but the giant moved out of the way of her great axe. Lorwyn carefully positioned herself to send another line of fire to engulf the hill giant, the snow melting into a puddle around him as he groaned in pain from more burning! Ignoring the catfolk and half-orc around him, the hill giant strode angrily through the snow to strike Sen out of the way with a sickening crack, and he smashed into the magic shield around Lorwyn that barely deflected his enormous club... only making him more angry! Thrice washed him in another wave of explosive fire as her bottle shattered against him! He glared at her with hate. Aeonil climbed out from under the wagon, pulling the elven girl with her, and then helped the others out. Sen reeled back from the strike, and sent out another pulse of healing to bring Lyssa back to conscious. Naahir leapt onto the giant, but it's thick hide deflected his strike! Lorwynelle unleashed another arc of flame to wash over the giant, blackening his skin! Zura seized the moment to cleave her blade clean through the hill giant's leg, removing it! The hill giant crashed to the ground, leaving the companions worn and panting in the pink stained snow. Searching the bodies, they found 500 damaran gold coins in the sack of one of the bugbears. The merchants told them the story of how the group of beasts had attacked them a couple of hours ago, and were just playing with them until the companions arrived. "They were waiting for you... they were saying to look for a demon chick," one of them explained, glancing toward the alchemist. "That barbarian," Thrice clenched her teeth, his cutting words and derisive looks toward her echoing in her mind. They got the merchants patched up and traveled through the snow toward Oleg's with them. On watch a couple of days later, Thrice sat near the fire. A little voice came from beside her, "Looks like someone wants you dead. You're already making lots of friends, I see." She turned to see a small red-skinned winged imp, and nodded calmly, "It does seem that way." The imp shrugged, "But you handled yourself fine." "Of course," the tiefling alchemist nodded confidently, "I always handle myself fine." "Good, good!" the imp nodded, "It's good to see that you've embraced this new challenge with gusto!" Thrice raised an eyebrow, "Might I ask... What are you doing here? Who sent you?" "You know who sent me! ...Your great grand-daddy," the imp wrapped his arms around himself in a mocking hug and spoke like he was coddling a puppy, "He loves his grandbaby." "Oh, yes..." Thrice rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm sure he loves me... I'm sure he'd //love// to see me boiling in a pot of oil." "Nooo!" the imp shook his head, and gave her an encouraging bump on the arm with his fist, "You've got great things in your future, kiddo!" The young alchemist scowled slightly, "If they're things that //he's// happy about... they're not great." "Oh, I see... that's the kind of thing that they want to hear," the imp nodded, glancing around at Thrice's sleeping companions, "You're just pulling the wool over their eyes, right?" Thrice turned to him directly, her voice terse, "Is there something I can help you with?" "No, not right now," he shook his head, "I just thought I'd introduce myself." Thrice's shoulders sagged and she sighed heavily, "Great... he named you too." "Yes!" the imp nodded proudly, "My name is Little Fucker... I've heard it's a great name renowned in the mortal realms." Thrice shook her head and laughed softly, "Never in my days... have I heard a more appropriate name. You should feel blessed." She nodded. "I just wanted you to know that granddad's got his eye on you... You're destined for greatness. Don't disappoint," he nodded. The blue-skinned tiefling sighed again, "Thanks for the warning." "It's a compliment... not a warning," he tilted his head at her, "And whenever you need me... just call for the Little Fucker." "Oh should I ever need you," she nodded with feigned enthusiasm, "I'll be sure to call for the little fucker." The imp nodded and vanished. The group arrived in the Trading Post, happily retreating to the roaring fires in the common room and Svetlanna's stew. For the next few months, as they hunkered down for the winter... supplies began rolling in from the duchy of Brandiar. They would have to decide what role each member would take, a name for the lands, and what to build... Discussions circled the table and Thrice sighed, "So... apparently my great grandpa is watching me and sees great things for my future." "Well of course," Naahir nodded, "You are part of land and title now." "If my great grandpa is happy about it," Thrice shook her head, "Then it's not good." Recalling that he was likely a demon, Naahir shook his head, "You are probably right." "He sent a watcher... an imp named Little Fucker by the way," Thrice nodded, "Literally... Little Fucker." The others laughed and nodded, agreeing to keep an eye out.

*The land has 3 basic stats* Economy - Loyalty - Stability Baroness = Lorwynelle (Charisma bumps choice of stats - stat changeable per turn) Cha +3 Councilor / Advisor = Lyssa (Wisdom or Charisma bumps Loyalty) Wis +4 Warden / Marshall = Zura (Strength or Constitution bumps Loyalty) Str +4 General of the army = Vorst (Strength or Charisma bumps ? ) Str +4 High Diplomat = Aeonil (Intelligence or Charisma bumps Stability) Cha +2 Treasurer = Thrice (Intelligence or Wisdom bumps Economy) Int +4 High Priest = Senathliel (Wisdom or Charisma bumps Stability) Cha +4 Spymaster = Naahir (Dexterity or Intelligence bumps choice of stats - stat changeable per turn) Dex +4 Magister = Keerinaal (Intelligence or Charisma bumps ? ) Cha +4 Royal Assassin = unnamed ( ? bumps ? )

The group claimed the former keep of the Stag Lord, clearing and scouring the stone building and the land around it. They repaired and built up the keep into a castle. Castle = halves the cost of noble villa or town hall / Economy +2 / Loyalty +2 / Stability +2 / Defense +8 / Unrest -4 A farm was started to help feed the people in the neighboring land, and a road was starting to be built to link it to the kingdom. Goods were shipped up and down the river and workmen came from Kearney and his wife to help work on the castle and the road. Farmers and people began to trickle into the new kingdom. Zura met them all, asking questions and making introductions.

3600 experience points!!