The long road leads you on a journey ending nearly 100 miles from where you began this journey in Restov.

The party of seven have finally come to their destination. It's been six long days on the flat dusty road, with the plains land south of Restov being relatively featureless. A border of calm between Brevoy and the unstable Stolen Lands. This group of men is one of four chosen to tame the country. To strike it of it's impurities and ready it to be forged into a kingdom.

The rugged fort stands tall with it's front gate open wide. A keen eye might recognize this structure as a military one. An abandoned border fort from one of many failed attempts to colonize this territory. The walls are ten feet tall and repairs can be seen all along them. At the four corners are twenty foot square watch towers. Dilapidated catapults peek over the edges. A thirty foot gate is opened wide. Drifting on the breeze is the smell of baking bread and the sound of hammering.

When the seven of you enter the gate, five on foot, two on horseback, you're met with a homely sight. Inside the fort are three buildings. A large one to the west which closely resembles a stable, a medium sized structure to the east faces a small barracks. From the house a thread of smoke rises being carried away by the wind. Standing at the top of the ladder is a stern looking man busily repairing the roof of the barracks.

As the party enters the central yard he looks over wiping his brow, "Ho there, about time you fellows show up."

While he climbs down the ladder a fetching middle aged lady exits the house carrying a clay pitcher. She spots the adventurers and runs hastily over to his side, a warm grin spreading on her face.


"My name is Oleg leveton, this is my wife, Svetlana," he says shortly, "Welcome to my trading post."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:43, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

Huffing under the weight of his pack, the elf known simply as Filarion Petxalim smiles widely. With a flourish, he bows in greeting, "Good day. I am Filarion Petxalim and here is my charter." Getting directly to business, the elf carries himself as a no nonsense, if braggadocious, person. "I'm sure we would all love to get a rest and a bath to recover from the arduous experience that is the travelers life."

Stepping forward next, Tatyana curtsies gracefully to Oleg and Svetlana. "I am Tatyana Dec'lan, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I can produce my charter if necessary, but for now it is packed away securely. Might you point me in the direction where I can slake my thirst and wash this road-dust from my throat?"

She will shake their hands in warm greeting, and assist others in getting their packs and gear stowed if asked to help.

Silas had ridden his horse off and on during the trip. As they approached the fort, he dismounted and guided the beast of burden into the central yard to greet their would be hosts.

He listened as his fellow elves began introducing themselves and then he bowed before Oleg and Svetlana saying, "May the Dead Eye keep you safe and grow this settlement into a community even he can be proud of."

He then pulled out his copy of the charter and showed it to them before tying up his horse and checking his current gear.

The journey from Restov was a long hard march to the trading post. Worst of all, Octavia was slowed down by armor. A horse would be a good thing if she ever found fortune in war. In truth, it was war, or really the hope of war that carried her out for adventure in the first place.

Her rations of hardtack and salted, tin pork filled her belly every morning and night. Luckily, the grace of her god, Gorum filled her waterskin whenever she had need. As Octavia cooked her meat, she watched the mostly elven party and their individual routines.  It was a solid group, but she wondered how things would fair during their first battle.

Finally after a long trip, Octavia was overjoyed at the sight of the fort style trading post. It was old, but with a little love the fort would be serviceable.  Octavia also noted the friendly couple that greeted them.

She waited as the elves first gave introduction, but she gave no curtsies or fancy bows. Instead, she simple nodded her head and gave Gorum's tidings. “I am Priestess Octavia Cassiana, may Gorum's might be with you. As a daughter of Gorum, I vow that my sword is at your disposal for the duration of my stay and...”  Octavia then became distracted by the smell of fresh bread baking and continued. “If you could part with some bread and wine, I would gladly pay you in gold?”
This message was last edited by the player at 09:10, Thu 08 Mar 2018.

Tauron come riding in on his donkey.  With a second creature trailing behind.
The swan that also seem to be part of his group sits on the second donkey looking around.  As Tauron is tall he looks a little oversize to be on the animal.
It clear it could not be used as war horse or move fast.
However to carry him and his items the two donkey seem quite happy.

Right at the beginning of the trip Tauron offered to carry few items for the other on his second donkey.  Easing the journey for them if they wish.

He also make sure each person has full waterskin at beginning of each day.
He always seem happy to use this little spell and said more than once how nice it is use the spell without anybody telling him off for using it.

The elf speaks  Hello Oleg leveton, lady Svetlana.  I am Tauron Alphmellon.  This.
Tauron pats the donkey he is riding.  Is Sedrick.  That.  Pointing to second donkey Is Daisy and our feather friend is Professor Swansong.

At the sound of his name the swan opens his wings up to full span and makes a Homk.  Noise.

Having traveling with Tauron for few days the other realize that the elf treats the animal in the party as equals.  At night he has small talk with his animal friend.
What clear and maybe little worrying is they understand him and talk back.

My friends and I are very grateful for your friendly welcome.

Razmatin looked rather ridiculous as he walked into camp. He had a bulging pack full of camping equipment and various sundries common for travelers on the road. In addition he had several weapons from daggers up to a bow and quiver hanging off of either his belt or pack. Strangely enough he had a large black wooden rectangular case nearly as tall as he was with straps on it so he could carry that on his back as well.

With the case strapped to his back the only room he had to carry his pack was on top of the case behind his head. In fact there was a hook on the case that allowed him to secure a strap to it. The whole thing looked as heavy as it was ridiculous. Despite others offers to carry his supplies he shrugged off offers of aid saying 'A good traveler can carry his own gear and I, for one, am a good traveler."

He had a peculiar sense of fashion with a puffy shirt with small little metal discs hanging from it that clinked as he walked. In addition to the typical browns and blacks of a traveler leathers he had a bright green jacket and a garish yellow sash that went from shoulder to waist.

As he came into camp he shrugged off his massive carrying case and gingerly rubbed his shoulders as feeling started to return to them. His mouth, framed by a meticulously groomed goatee, broadened into a bright smile.

"Ahh, greetings, salutations, ciao, and hallo! We are merry adventurers embarking on a noble quest to explore these surroundings and help resolve any local difficulties that one may encounter. We are on the first page of the first chapter of the first volume of a grand epic the likes of which the River Kingdoms have ever seen before! That being said... a bit of aid would be quite pleasant. Food and fire would be most welcome after days and miles on the road from Restov. We can offer fair payment for fair food, or we can perhaps assist you in some task or provide entertainment as a means to work for our supper."

He spoke quite rapidly with a lyrical sing-song quality to his words. From time on the trails it was known to the others that this wasn't just a performance for their hosts. Razmatin, or 'Raz' as he offered to be called, might not speak all the time but when he did it was almost always in a some overly verbose exposition.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:15, Thu 08 Mar 2018.

The half-orc waited patiently when the road weary group stopped at the gate.  He wore a large sword slung behind his back as well as several other weapons.  His heavy pack bulged with supplies and from his hand dangled a large canvas wrapped bundle tied with rope for a handle.  Road dust covered his pant legs and boots. They made their way past Olaf and finaly is was Drezghl's turn to introduce himself.  He set down his bundle with a heavy thud.

"Greetings.  I am Drezghl.  I was given a charter as well.  Thank you for allowing us to shelter here.", he said to Olaf in a gravelly voice.  "I must help my companions with their animals now."

With that, he nodded to Svetlana, picked up his bundle and began walking towards the stable.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:57, Thu 08 Mar 2018.

Oleg reads through the proffered charter and then hands it back.
“Reads just like mine. Writ by folks too proud of themselves with hardly no respect for common man or decency!”

You'll have to pardon my husband,"Svetlana apologizes, "He can be gruff at times, but his heart is solid gold. Please come, sit at our tables and I'll fetch lunch for everyone."She gestures to the two wooden tables beside the fire pit. After a small curtsy she leaves Oleg's side for the house.

Hearing Svetlana’s sweet words seem to brighten him up a shade. He even manages a slight smile at the company.

"Got word of a group being sent south a few days ago from a trapper come through," says Oleg wiping his hands off on his leather apron. "Been over a month since I started sending requests for the king's men. Why don't I stable your horses and we'll have some food. Svetlana's had a stew makin' all day. Won't let me taste the damned stuff, even though I been hard at work all day!”
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:06, Tue 18 Dec 2018.

Octavia studied Oleg and Svetlana, but kept silent for the moment. Instead she moved to the tables and sat down, waiting for bread, stew and wine. As the fire warmed her, she continued to listen to Oleg. “You requested the king's men...what for?”

OOC: 23:39, Yesterday: Secret Roll: Octavia Cassiana rolled 25 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 19.  Sense Motive.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:59, Fri 09 Mar 2018.

“My charter reads the same as yours in the introduction; however it grants me title to this fort and the surrounding area in order to secure the integrity of the fort.  It is likewise mine to pass to my heirs”  “What’s that you say? Men-at-arms yes of course someone has to secure this fort, and many locals lack the training needed as guards.”



Perception or sense motive of 12 or higher

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
As joyful and happy as the couple seems you can’t help but notice they seem to be extremely relieved by your arrival

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This message was last edited by the GM at 19:15, Sun 11 Mar 2018.

While the others start introducing themselves to Svetlana and Oleg, Raz's head whips all around as he seems curious about almost everything. He quietly drifts away from the group and begins walking around the perimeter of the outpost. He begins muttering some words and holds out his hands, snapping both fingers and then with a slight burst of magic he is holding a fiddle and a bow. He begins playing a meandering tune as he walks around. It doesn't seem to have any purpose, at best guess he is just playing the first thing that comes to his mind based upon what he is looking at.

When he looks up it becomes a soaring melody, when he gets near the stables it turns into a short hopping sound. Near the walls it becomes an ominous and haunting tune and when he nears the campfire it becomes a peaceful relaxing melody again.

OOC: Nothing special, 13 on perform.

Silas is quiet and observant though he seems a bit distracted himself. He asks Oleg, "Do you have any followers of Old Deadeye about? I would expect out here, favor with Erastil would be a valuable commodity."

Octavia's gaze fell on the white haired elf as he spoke of the old, tried god of farmers. She though on the elf's words for a moment before giving a rebuttal. “I doubt Erastil will be of any use here. You do not seek farmers Oleg, but men-at-arms, warriors! Is this not so?” Octavia smiled warmly towards the couple.

“Every soil becomes finally exhausted, and the plowshare of war must always come once more. A message from the Gorumskagat, chapter 1, verse 12."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:44, Sat 10 Mar 2018.

Tatyana had moved with the others to the table, and now she sat, surreptitiously rolling her eyes as her proselytizing companions spoke of their respective faiths. She smiled to Oleg and the others as they seated themselves, but she also took note of her surroundings, checking the area 360* around where she had seated herself.

She politely refrained from the religious conversation, and waited patiently for the promised refreshments.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
13:43, Today: Tatyana Dec'lan rolled 24 using 1d20+6 ((18)).

Silas merely nodded to Octavia at her denigration of Old Deadeye. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Erastil required no one to defend him and that Gorum's blades were no match for the aim of Old Deadeye, should there ever be a need to test them.

Instead he waited to hear if Oleg or Svetlana knew of any local followers of Erastil.

"Now now," the warrior says to the human, "it's hard to swing a sword when you're starving. And I for one am starving," he gives the red head a smirk and an appraising eye, his kraven remark obvious.

While gauging the woman's reaction to his pass at her, he remarks toward their host, "You seem happy we are here. Is there any problems that we were not made aware of yet?"

Tauron get of his donkey.  He open up the book he has.  Looks at it and then close it.
He turns to Octavia Cassiana.
I think Gorum conveniently overlooked the evergreen ancient forest of elven realm.
If you get the balance between animal and plants.  Day and night.  Winter and summer. The land can grow and die in cycles without the soil being exhausted.  True that does take at lot to do and little magic sometime helps.

Although the elf like spend time talking to animals he just as willing to talk to the group.  From the time they been with him they learned he spent a lot of time studying and willing to listen and debate anything and everything.  He happy to poke fun at the other but also at himself.

He walks up close to Octavia Cassiana and smiles at her.
As for needed men-at-arms.  It was my understand that this is a new land.  I think we will be in need of everybody help in this project and blessing of every helpful god.  Do we not need farmer and traders.  Fighter and spellweaver.  Human, elves, orc kin, gnomes halfings and dare I say it.  Yes I dare.  Even dwarves.  Yes even dwarves!

There may even be room for hot headed beautiful young human cleric to fall in love with stuffy old bookworm of an elf.  And for he to fall in love with her back.  Who Knows!
This is new land and all is possible.

He then turns back to two that welcomed them to the fort.

Tauron book has two clear symbol on it.  For anybody that has point in know religon.

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
On the front it has picture of Ketephys holy symbol but for some reason the hawk looks more like swan.  On the back is Yuelral but for some reason it seem to be place on the shell of a large egg.

https://pathfinderwiki.com/wik...phys_holy_symbol.jpg
https://pathfinderwiki.com/wik...lral_holy_symbol.jpg

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This message was last edited by the player at 20:24, Sat 10 Mar 2018.

"Help yourself to the stables then, ..." nodding to the empty barn. His wife emerges carrying trays with bowls of steaming stew, loafs of dark bread. While she places them on the table she speaks up, "The guesthouse is empty you can find water to wash there and a place for your packs, ... ,"

"Oleg’s ain’t no temple, but I’m not going to turn away business based on faith; i bet your not familiar with a tatzylwyrm are you? Might be kin to dragons, about ten feet long, worm like though. They're rare not pleasant if you find one. Trappers around here might know more." The trader sits himself to a table and begins in on the food pouring from the pitcher of wine, "Now I don't know about all that birthing a new land and hope nonsense. I like my place right where it is far away from anyone. If it wasn't for these damn vagabonds taking my goods each month and threatening my wife I wouldn't have called for anyone."

Svetlana leans near ......"We're the only ones here and the only injury for now is Oleg's pride. It hurt him dearly to ask for help."

He continues, "They've been stealing from us for twelve weeks calling it 'protection' it'll be good to see them 'protected' back."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:15, Sun 11 Mar 2018.

Drezghl listened to the talk and religious bickering.  It seemed pointless to him as it accomplished little of substance.  He accepted Svetlana's stew and bread with an appreciative thank you and began to eat.

"Mr. Olaf.  These vagabonds that trouble you...how many of them show up every month?  When do you expect the thieves to return again?", Drezghl asked between bites of stew and bread.

Oleg instead of offering further explanation or asking for help instead stands back up.  ”If you fine people will excuse me, that roof leak is not going to fix itself and no one is going to rent a leaky room.”

"Thank you so much for listening to our troubles,please let me explain," she says while pouring out cups of wine, "About six months ago Oleg and I requested and received a charter of settlement from the Swordlords. With it came to us the deed to this abandoned fort. It didn't seem like anyone had lived here for ages. Since setting up we've had one or two visitors a day, trappers, huntsmen, hermits. Most of them are quiet and behave themselves, some might even be bandits themselves. I've seen probably forty or fifty different folk so far it's hard to tell."

Svetlana sits down with a cup of wine herself, "Three months ago about a full score of bandits came all at once. Their leader was an evil woman with two hatchets and she couldn't seem to keep her hands off them. She told Oleg that we'd pay their 'tax' or she would take me to entertain the men. He was furious and almost struck her with his bare hands. For that she nearly cut one off; in fact she told him that she would ‘shorten his reach, by a hand.’. Then her second in command, a crude man wearing a hooded leather jerkin, took my wedding ring in exchange for not 'shortening Oleg's reach.' The second month only he came with twelve others and left as soon as they had our goods. Last month it was just him with nine of his miscreants. I think they're getting relaxed about how easy it is stealing from us."

"I haven't seen the woman with the two hand axes since, but she was clearly in charge the first time. The sleazy fellow was practically licking her boots. Tomorrow at an hour after dawn, we'll bring out what few goods we have left. If you all can help us, please, just make sure Oleg is safe."

"Don’t mind my husband, he's always been like this, and we have been doing rather well until that wicked woman came and threatened us. If you gentleman would drive off the bandits for good we would be in your debt," Svetlana looks down at the ground,

"They've been coming an hour after dawn on the first day of each month. Tomorrow likely will be no different."

She looks up hopefully, gazing from one of you to the next. "Maybe if I offered you room and board for the night?"

Perception DC 15

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
You hear a grunt from Oleg as he climbs the ladder, but he does not verbalize anything....

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This message was last edited by the GM at 19:33, Sun 11 Mar 2018.

Octavia was a bit unimpressed with the responses given by the elves. She lifted an eyebrow to Filarion, but was very unprepared for Tauron getting a little too close for comfort. Despite the elf getting in her personal space, she stood her ground. “First off, you may have misheard. I am a priestess of Gorum, not Calistria. Secondly, I never said we should abolish all farmers, but even a farmer needs to fight for what is theirs."

“My master back in the temple, Gantor Barrelshield use to say  war comes in cycles...just as your land does. We prepare for war and then seek it. The Gorumskagat is a warrior's poetry, that teaches us lessons.  Gantor also use to say,[Language unknown: pre beoumo meort nimach tonde ti olinut elwhck eihowe fi]

"Although I look at Gantor as a second father, it is my hope that not all his lessons are true....Then again, this is a new land and all is possible.”

Octavia then listened to the words of Svetlana and a small part of her remembered the murder of her parents at the hands of bandits. A look of remembrance and sadness crosses Octavia's face, but only for a moment. Downing her cup of wine, Octavia nodded to the poor woman. “Of course I will help you and if I can, I will return your wedding ring back to you.”
This message was last edited by the player at 22:23, Sun 11 Mar 2018.

Smiling as if he'd won something he remarks to their hosts, "While the others might be quick to assist you in this matter, I wonder if these bandits might have a claim to the area and might be actually protecting you from something else. Do you know if they have any legitimate claims? Maybe they have a reason to be here as well." He makes a gesture to clarify, "More than just shaking down you two that is. Have they stated or talked about anyone or  anything else? Even if it's just an off handed remark."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:44, Mon 12 Mar 2018.

Tatyana had thanked Oleg before he left to be about his chores, and thanked Svetlana both for the sustenance provided, and the promise of room and board for helping defend them against the thugs looking for 'protection money'. She heard Filarion's question about the possibility of other forces in the area, and waited patiently to hear Svetlana's response.