Vil-hatarn

[Pathfinder] Kingmaker Adventure Path

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Pathfinder rules and the Kingmaker Adventure Path are copyright Paizo Publishing. Currently on Part 1: Stolen Land by Tim Hitchcock.

 

House Rules
Ability score increases at all even levels
Two-weapon fighters can attack once with each as a standard action
Strain-Injury HP: essentially, most damage heals automatically with a short rest, with only severe injuries requiring divine healing or bed rest.
XP: Ad hoc, approximately twice the rate of the fast track as I'll be handwaving or removing "filler" encounters to maintain pacing

 

This is the game thread; post in-character comments and die rolls [honor system] here, please keep out-of-character comments to the thread in The Gathering.

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Player Characters

Aldrath Klockburn, gnome cleric3 of Brigh (GMPC; formerly Unit04)

Alexi Dromange, Chelaxian fighter3 (Dilvish)

Beremor Stoneshield, dwarf wizard3 (ShadowRaven)

Ellandar, elf witch3 (Kangaroorex)

Vonthra Valnore, dwarf paladin3 of Damerrich (Flamehawke)

Kavik, human rogue2 (formerly Qwyksilver)

 

Weather: clear

Date: morning, 29 Pharast (early spring), 4710 A.R.

Timeline

 

Overland Map (first row is Brevic territory; white spaces are unknown, ? spaces and offset tiles are unexplored)

Combat Map

 

Exploration Rates

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For one reason or another, you have each found your way to the Free City of Restov which sits on the border of Brevoy’s southern Rostland region and the fractious River Kingdoms to the south. So called because its leaders do not come from the noble houses that dominate Issian and Brevic politics, the Free City is best known as the home of the Aldori dueling style, and remains a stronghold of the Swordlords despite their crushing defeat by Choral the Conqueror nearly two hundred years ago. While its inhabitants consider themselves quite sophisticated, visiting Taldans or Chelaxians find the populace rather rough around the edges, particularly in their eagerness to duel over minor matters of honor and pride.

 

Since the sudden disappearance of Choral’s descendants 11 years ago, the scheming House Surtova has ruled in Brevoy, but their grasp on power is far from complete. Tensions are growing among the noble houses and between Rostland and Issia, and some say civil war is inevitable. There have even been murmurs that it is time for Rostland to reclaim its independence, though only a fool would make such a claim in public. Amidst these tensions, Restov’s Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius and a number of wealthy Rostlandic lords and merchants have issued charters to several independent parties with the goal of securing Rostland’s southern border, which presently runs up against a particularly lawless region of the River Kingdoms. The charters charge the recipients to explore, map, and bring justice to the region commonly known as the Stolen Lands, though it is a matter of contention who they were stolen from.

 

Some of you are native to Brevoy, while others have come to Restov hoping to escape your past and chart a new future. Not long after your arrival, you heard that the Lady Kirana Aldori was recruiting warriors and explorers for a foray into the Greenbelt, a region known for bountiful hunting and trapping until a recent rise in banditry. Each of you was interviewed by Kirana or her assistant Alexi Dromange, a human of Chelaxian descent, promised a generous rate of 10 gp per week, and told to gather at the western gate at dawn on 1st Pharast. That morning has now arrived. GM-Speak: I'll wait for everyone to introduce/describe their character and then we'll get going.

 

En route to the meeting, several of you overhear townsfolk discussing someone by the name of Kressle. Rumor is she murdered a man who propositioned her in one of Restov's bars and maimed several others, and was due to be hung this morning, but escaped in the night, leaving two dead guards behind her. Popular opinion says she's likely fled back into the River Kingdoms, beyond the reach of justice.

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Clean and well kept was the first impression he gave to most humans. Smallish was the first thing that came to mind for most of his kin though. At four foot exactly, and at only 155 pounds he was hardly the most impossing figure. That his brown hair and bear, with it's strands of bright copper intermingled was kept neatly trimmed, and his clothes where fresh and new though well suited to travel, suggested that he was not one accustomed to hard times. That his fingers showed little in the way of calluses told that he was not much accustomed to hard work either. Yet there was a sharp inteligence in his emerald green eyes, and while his pack lay propped against the wall, he wore a warhammer like one who knew it's use. A beret of dark blue capped his head, set at a jaunty angle, and while he waited he puffed cassually on a carved wooden pipe. Soon the appointed hour would come, and he would for the first time meet those whom he would be travelling with, and set out upon this journey.

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Aldrath Klockburn arrives at the western gate bright and early, eager to begin his new adventure. His chipper and energetic attitude contrasting with his somber garb. "Brigh grant the team will mesh like well machined cogs," he says to no one in particular, fingering the gear shaped holy symbol hanging about his neck.

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Vonthra approached the area quietly and with some curiosity. She had never met the people she would travel with. Perhaps it could lead to some new and interesting friends. She wears grey hide armor paired with a white cloak. She wears a holy symbol of Damerrich around her neck. The colors accentuate her fiery locks, deep green eyes, and tanned skin.

 

She carries a dwarven waraxe within easy grasp and a thorn bow along with a quiver at her back. She speaks softly "This is the correct meeting place I presume. I am Vonthra Valnore, servant of Damerrich."

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"Beremor Stoneshield" He said with a nod at the introduction. What his thoughts on her deity of choice might be, remain hidden. "I take it you are another of Lady Aldori's choices for this task? I think that gnome there is as well, but it's not said a word since it got here...and well, gnomes...Hard to guess"

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Alexi Dromage approaches the group.  A tall human,broad of shoulder and narrow of waist, bearing classic Chelaxian features, shoulder length raven black hair and eyes the color of stormy skies.  His clothing, while utilitarian, is quite well made and several tasteful rings adorn his hands.  His armor is a mix of chain and steel disks.  A silver chased sheath containing an Aldori dueling sword hangs from a finely tooled leather belt circling his waist.  The edge of a small shield shows from beneath his woolen cloak and he clasps a spear in his right hand as though it were a simple walking stick.

 

He comes to a halt in front of the group with a curious little stomp.  His left hand furls the edge of his cloak (clearing the hilt of his sword as if by happenstance) and he gives a slight bow.  "Well met my companions.  For those of you whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting, I am Alexi Dromage and I am at your service.  I am sure that we will all become boon companions and am looking forward getting to know you all."

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Ellandar Strides up to the knot of adventurers forming at the gate.  She is tall, even for an elf and thin as a willow branch.  Her hair is black and cut short at the neckline allowing the points of her ears to show prominently.  On her right shoulder a white rat with black spots stands on two paws with a third grasping Ellandar's ear.  the rat alternates between sniffing the air and apparently whispering in Ellandar's ear.

 

Ellandar is dressed in a fine blue set of slacks and jerkin, the edges chased with silver arcane symbols. across her back is a black knee length cape.  She carries an ironwood staff and a bow over one shoulder.  On her head is a wide brimmed pointed hat, the mark of her Craft. a rucksack and a small cauldron complete the look. 

 

As she walk up, She says "Are you the group that are hear to help tame the stolen lands?  I have been told that I may assist the Lady Aldori by assisting where I can in this endeavor.  I am Ellandar of the river, and I am glad to meet each of you.   

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(knowledge arcana Roll(1d20)+7:17,+7 Total:24. I think he knows what class she is)

 

He studied the approaching elf, or more precisely, the arcane symbols upon her clothing and the tell-tale hat. "It seems we are, Ellandar of the river. Beremor Stoneshield. Wizard." If the others wished to introduce themselves to the witch, or not, or if they even knew what she was, or not was at present no concern of his

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Vonthra nodded "Aye. She asked it of me and it works for me at this moment in time. I am Vonthra Valnore. A pleasure to meet all of you."

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"Well met Beremor.  A master of the arcane arts is most welcome on our journeys.  Mayhap we will have a chance to discuss our arts.  I have the witching power and come seeking a better reception of my skills than my home in the River Kingdoms."   She extends a hand to the dwarf, you can see the snout of a dragon tattooed on the back of the hand and leading back up the arm of the tunic.  "I hope the histories of our peoples will not get in the way of our endeavor." 

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"hrmm" He said, though he did accept the handshake. Releasing her hand he nodded "Yes, well. I won't be judging you by your race, but by what you do. We will have to take the time to discuss our arts, and know what we can each do when push comes to shove."

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A short, stout figure, some may notice, stands at a bush along the wall, several yards away. A heavy shield is slung across his shoulders; on it is a stalk of maize headed heavily with grain. The plant had been coated partially with red, however, as though it is bleeding. At first the dwarf appears to be loitering, or perhaps rocking on his heels and killing time--but it quickly becomes apparent he is relieving himself. He empties his bladder, buttons his pants closed again, and turns toward the gate. He wipes his hands on his vest--he is dressed in skins and fur, simply but effectively manufactured--and armored in scale. A crossbow hangs at his hip alongside a broad, thick-handled axe. He grins, or perhaps grimaces, and spits. He approaches those gathered in the clearing. He is rumpled and dusty, gives off an odor that is a bit sour. He thrusts his hand between the elf and dwarf, reaching them first, and shakes stiffly but vigorously with any who’ll return the gesture.

 

“Abirn,†he says. “Son a Frimble Dusttrawler son a Martik Dusttrawler son a Almus Dusttrawler.â€

 

He spits again and looks the assembling party over. His face betrays concern--a stretching of lips, breath sucked quickly through his teeth.

 

“So now, is this the lot a ye, then?†He squints and points at the nearby gnome. “Did ye shave yeer bleeding beard, mate? Must be daft and surely chilled by the breeze now, no?â€

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Vonthra takes his hand politely and shakes it "Well met Abirn Dusttrawler. As you no doubt already heard I am Vonthra Valnore, servant of Damerrich."

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