This group has started the trek to obtain assistance from the mites and kobolds under the terms of the treaty with them.

They have ridden across the plains and encountered nothing as of yet...

Filarion, in his unusual for his race, but usual for him, manner spurs his horse into a quick trot that would be faster than walking, but not so fast that it would kill the horse.

I don't know who's coming along, so speak up. :)

If you turn out to be alone we will shift both Mikmek and Crack-jaw the kobold and mite over to this thread...It makes sense for them to come on this particular excursion...

The ride is of course much further for this group than those seeking the perfect trees for the catapults.

Mikmek and Crackjaw seem to think it is very likely that the kobolds and mites will be more than willing to lend a hand, however the number might be limited due their recent losses and those that Tartuk the summoner had killed.

Eventually this group of riders is greeted at the mine entrance of the kobold mines.  As you arrive, one of the kobolds chats up Mikmek....

'

Mikmek looks concerned....

Filarion had pumped the kobold and the mite for information about the capabilities and numbers of both holds.

Once they arrived, he kept his tongue as the locals talked among themselves. He watched them, hand relaxed on his hilt just in case.

21:05, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 13 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 10.  Sense Motive.

Mikmek
“A parody party is here seeking a treaty to establish a kingdom of only locals, the one here is a troll. I cannot guarantee your safety...”

"If a troll is offering a treaty, then it concerns those at the outpost. I would like to meet this troll and at least hear him out." Filarion is a little unsure about facing a troll alone, but he hopes that, if anything does happen, the tribes will come to his defense. If he shies away now, they might lose the allies they just gained.

"I understand your concern Mikmek, but if I hide now, what will that say to your clans? No, I want there to be peaceful unity among all. Hopefully my presence will foster that."

The kobold at the gate is talking to Mikmek and he shakes his head
“The troll is working with others on taking over and establish the green belt as a monster kingdom.... the chief is letting him know we are obligated by the treaty... this knowledge may set in motion an attack upon ourselves and the mites, who only follow the “fey queen“ of their mythos...”....

Filarion nods as he soaks in what he's been told. His mind works on the situation, looking to ramifications, different outcomes, maximum benefits without heavy sacrifices. He knows he's no match for a troll even if his companions at Oleg were there with him.

"It is more prudent to wait," he says not liking this one bit. "Do you think your king will uphold the treaty?"

A plan was formulating.

Mikmek
“Aye a treaty or truce has been practiced by our people for half a century with men and it is known to us that such servitude to great monsters means slavery and in hard times a source of food.  The mites will refuse out right but we will aid them, even now the dragon breath kobolds are gathering in case a troll must be killed, acid and Fire cannot be regenerated.  Though he will leave in peace under the white flag of truce, the way he came.”

Filarion nods in understanding. Nothing more to do than wait out the talks.

CrackJaw chimes in to the discussion with Mikmek....

After a few back and forths...

"It might be safer to present you to the king know even though the troll is here under a truce he should not be able to attack you inside, but once outside you might be fair game."

"Very well," he nods. "Could a guard be placed on my horse so that I at least have a chance to get away?"

In either case, Filarion adjusts his sword belt and follows the two inside.

As you are brought into the large chamber that once housed Tartuk

You come face to face with a troll, wearing clothing, a ring and even a multi stoned necklace
He hisses and says
“Chief Sootscale a meal how thoughtful!”

"I would give you indigestion," the elf quips with a smile and a bow. "I am Filarion. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" He watches the trolls face for any signs of the brute attacking him.

06:22, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 20,20 using D20+1,d20+3 with rolls of 19,17.  Diplo/sense Motive

Boom! Way for the dice roller to show up for me.

The troll cracks a grin
“I am the king of these lands, king Hargulka!...you and all your kind are not welcome in this land, tell them all to leave, the fort and Oleg shall mark the end of where humans are permitted. Send word back with the kobolds and end your treaty with them as well   ”

Sense motive result
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:03, Wed 22 July 2020.

Giving the troll a deep bow, he calmly states, "The treaty isn't with me alone, but the trading post. I will have to speak with them first oh great king. How long may I tell them that we have to leave?"

“One cycle of the moon.”

Filarion nods and then steps back, but quite leaving. Standing to one side of the ante chamber, he waits to hear what is said by the troll and to see if it leaves.

19:58, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 18 using 1d20 with rolls of 18.  Stealth.

If it's needed

Hargulka
“When the humans are gone you and yours will be great n service to myself and I will be the king of this land!”

Chief Sootscale swallows a lump in his throat and adds nothing.  The Sootscales seem to be praying for deliverance from this fate of servitude.

Finally Chief Sootscale
“We will confirm the humans are gone and then we will send word to the neighboring kingdoms to fully vacate the treaty.”

The troll nods his head

Mikmek pulls you further away

If it looks like Hargulka is planning on starting, Filarion leaves. In either case, whether he moves out of the cave or up to the kobold chief, doesn't change what he says next, just whom it's directed at. During his wait, he wracks his memory to see if he's heard of this so called king. Maybe he remembers over hearing any information.

Making sure he's far enough from the trip, he speaks to either Chief Sootscale or Mikmek, "I can't take care of this troll on my own, but don't fear, we will honor our agreement. We must handle the Stag Lord first, but even if it means I face him alone, we will help defend you. If there is anyway you can get some of your fellows to join us, it would be greatly appreciated. I understand it may be difficult to get free unnoticed. What about the mites? Would it be prudent to visit them before I head back?"

06:45, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 18 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 13.  Know nobility.

Filarion recalls several stories of monsters claiming to be kings in nice they equated it with great Chief or a similar title.
This troll seemed very different from most trolls in some disconcerting ways.

Mikmek
“Their is little in common between yourself and the mites, I suggest we get all this to your friends so they are aware of the threatening situations.”

With a sad look on his face and a glace back at the kobold lair, he says, "Very well. May we meet again, and soon," he reaches out a hand to clasp with Mikmek. Mounting his animal, he begins the grim ride back to Oleg's

Mikmek climbs up as well
“There is little I can do here, the Chief will send word about the details....”

The ride away from the mines is pleasant enough but the events that unfolded are very troubling...

Mikmek breaks the silence
“What will you do?”

"I think that new threats need a new direction." With that he makes a slight correction with Linta's reigns twords the last known location of the Stag Lord.

This would be an obvious bad idea, but I took a specific alternate race trait.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:51, Thu 20 Aug 2020.

The journey towards the staglord's fort is almost directly away from any help that you might receive or from the aid of any friends....

Mikmek pipes up
"You lost?"

Filarion had been mulling his own thoughts and had completely forgotten about his  kobold companion. "I apologise, but this is where we have to split ways. This troll is a much larger threat and if he is able to amass an army, then he's going to be unstoppable. My plan is to head to the Stag Lord and see if I can talk them into halting hostilities to face this larger threat. Please head to Olaf's and let them know my plan and wish me blessings."

Mikmek’s mouth opens and closes...
“The route of the troll may pass close to the Staglords fort.  You may be able to attack the troll and they blame the men of the fort; very dangerous plans, you are making.”

Mikmek shakes your hand
“If you must attack Oleg’s with the bandits I will let them know you may be infiltrated in their ranks.”
He hands you a purple head covering

A crow swoops down from the sky and lands on your shoulder

"There's an elven proverb that says, 'Tell a lie and you'll tell a thousand. Tell the truth and you only have to say it once.' I appreciate the offer, but I have a plan of my own. You should hurry and if I die, at least I died for peace. Thank you for your advice and help my friend."

He reaches out to shake the hand of the kobold before kicking Linta into a gallop.

The galloping horse eats up the distance along the plains and you drive South until you reach the river, which is uncrossable at the first place you meet it.

You recall Nettles crossing but without the ferry it is not a good area...

Eventually you encounter a very old and weathered bridge

Stopping at the water's edge, Filarion gives Linta a chance to rest and drink before walking the gelding across the bridge. Looking about, be pulls up a branch that had broken off somewhere up stream and begins to fasten a white piece of cloth to it. He wasn't very religious, even given the actual manifested power on Golarian, so a quick prayer sent off to the first world is kind of an after thought.

Standing up after about 20 minutes, he grabs his mount's reins and picks his way across the bridge looking for weak spots that Linta might fall through.

05:54, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 12 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 11.  Perception.

Not great. . .

Riding all out the full day sees Fioarion across the bridge as dusk falls, by all reports if he follows the river on his left side he should run directly into the staglords fort and the lake...

Moving forward would get him closer to an area where most beasts would be afraid of the encampment, but sneaking up in the dark was the best way to receive an arrow to the chest. So he decides to split the difference. This is when being an elf is a great advantage. Needing only 4 hours of rest, he keeps moving the the fading light. Only stopping when he's closer to the middle of the night or he starts to see evidence of the camp.

Sitting down to rest, he keeps his horse close so that, if something does attack, it'll attack Linta first and would snap him out of his reverie. He doesn't dare start a fire and just munches on a trail ration.

Filarion follows the Shrike river and to his right he knows the skunk river is flowing and that both flow into the Tuskwater lake.

He is still fairly far away when he sees a large structure most likely the Staglord’s fort
You can see the telltale signs of smoke rising into the air...




This message was last edited by the GM at 13:49, Thu 03 Sept 2020.

The elf is surprised at what the bandits have built. He had expected at best a camp and not a full fort. This, and it's location, complicated things a little. Nice he can change his mind, he removes the basic equipment he needs and slaps Linta's flank. "Go home my friend."

Watching for an hour he decides the best course of action for now is to head directly to a patrol and bid his case. "Hail!," he calls out. "I have information for the Stag Lord of the utmost urgency."

The palisade itself sits on a hillock, the wall is 15 feet high, consisting of logs which are set no further apart than 6 inches. A 30-foot-wide safe zone is cleared around the outer perimeter of the palisade. The top of the wall has numerous splinters and sharpened branches there.
To the southeast of the fort, a slightly sunken section of ground might be a low area to make an approach.

A narrow path of hard-packed earth winds up the hillside approaching the Stag Lord’s fort—this path is 30 feet wide, 300 feet long, and provides no cover.

The remaining hillside surrounding the fort is a swath of hill devoid of shrubbery save for isolated thorny vines, but periodic large boulders provide better cover for a stealthy approach.

This is me catching up....

The bandits look shocked at your sudden appearance, the underlings show only confusion

They part and a man in black leathers rides forward, he is a slender man with long dark hair, earrings, an exposed and tattooed midriff, armed with a rapier and a dirk.

You have no doubt this man is as dangerous as any you have ever encountered
“I will be the judge of that!”

He rides up to you, out of earshot of the bandits...
“Who are you?”

This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 16:14, Tue 08 Sept 2020.

"I am Filarion Petxalim," he says with a bow and the white flag in his off hand just in case this turns violent. "I come to your fort with dire news that effects all of us in the Stolen Lands. I come to hopefully unite our people's to fight this threat. Who may I have the honor of speaking to?"

Throwing in a Know Nobility just in case.

12:34, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 6 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 1.  Know nobility.

Well crud. . .
This message was last edited by the player at 16:35, Wed 09 Sept 2020.

Filarion is convinced he is fave to face with
Hieronymus Karl Friedrich, Freiherr von Münchhausen
AKA Baron Münchhausen

“My name is Dovan.”

Filarion has a look of confusion cross his face, but waits for the man to respond to his statement.

“I am Dovan.  What threat do you speak of?”

"Dovan it is then. I just recently ran into a troll that fancies himself a king. He's trying to recruit the local monsters to his cause. I understand the Stag Lord is about to attack the trading post south of here. It would be mutually beneficial if we put our differences aside to deal with this new threat." He ticks off each point with the fingers of his hand.


"I'm not going to lie to you, but tell you that I come the Oleg's and have a charter. Your fort technically lies outside of this charter, so we could actually live in peace as neighbors. How long do you think it'll be before the full might of the Swordlords comes down on this area? If we work together, deal with this troll and any beasts he's brought to his side, and end hostiles twords each other, we could grow stronger together."


Come on die roller, don't. .

21:26, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 6 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 5.  Diplomacy.

Whelp, this character was fun. . 

Dovan
“I have a better idea.  We gather some guys from the fort along with a wagon of pitch, intercept your troll and return to the fort later, you as my prisoner and I have a job for you, to take out the Staglord.”

Filarion smiles for a moment and then his face drops in shock. "Excuse me? Do I look like an assassin? I'm not interested in human squabbles. How would this benefit the Stolen Lands as a whole?" He breaths for a moment. "Why would you ask me to do this thing?"

Dovan shrugs
“Someone must! he is an evil man and the eyes of his lieutenants are upon each other and upon me always; if your honor allows it if you can face him one to one would you be satisfied in waging a fair fight against him?”.

Filarion's jaw works as he thinks about this opportunity. "Who would take over after him? What has he done to make you all wanting his death? What can you tell me about the human so I know what I'm getting into?"

He's warming to the idea, but his own sense of honor has to be satisfied.

Dovan
“I will tell you more when I have a chance, for now we ride!  You men get any who are sober and a wagon of pitch, we have a hunt to go on!”

The men flinch and two ride for the fort...
the others ask Dovan about what’s happening
He makes a grim face and answers....“Troll.”

Nodding his assent, Filarion follows Dovan. "Just to make you aware, I'm on friendly terms with a kobold band. I was visiting them and that's when I ran into the troll. Make sure your men don't attack them."



I'm assuming they're going to offer me a horse since I sent Linta back to base.

The bandits return with a wagon of pitch and a barrel of arrows

Dovan sends one of the men back and offers you a horse

“Lead on to the troll.  No good waiting around.”

Mounting the borrowed horse, the elf warrior leads them back to where he last saw the troll. While in route, he talks up the others trying to get a feel for them as a group and what they think of current happenings at their fort and in the areas in general.

05:39, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 13 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 12.  Gather info (Diplo).

Soon enough the group encounters a troll, this one is not the king troll Filarion had met at the kobold caves...

The troll roars and charges into the riders in the front swatting two bandits off their horses and trying to munch on one of the men he just swatted..

The bandits fire flaming arrows at the troll..  the arrows stick but do not slow the troll in the least

Dovan releases the horse from the cart and holding a torch in one hand his rapier in the other he balances on the edge wagon over the pitch...

The elven warrior joins the fray. He yells and swings his sword in a display of might trying to demoralize the troll.

Standard: Intimidate
Move: advance 30'

DC should be 13 (10+(6x0.5)-1(wis mod))

16:12, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 24 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 20.  Intimidation (-4 for large included).

Since I beat the DC by 10, it'll be shaken for 3 rounds.

The troll seems to avoid you but he tears into the bandits with abandon
Killing three of them in the process and scaring a few of the horses
6 flaming arrows protrude from the troll and it is still coming

Moving into battle, Filarion swings his blade at the monster trying to get it's attention focused on him. "Keep the fire arrows coming!"

Standard: attack
Move: move closer.
Free: yell out

12:38, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 18,10 using D20+11,d8+2 with rolls of 7,8.  Attack/damage.

I thought about charging, but that'd just open my ac even lower. How many other guys are left?

Troll should have 2 more rounds of shaken.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:59, Wed 30 Sept 2020.

Filarion takes the battle to the troll, cutting a deep slash in it.

The large creature slashes out with its clawed long and gnarled limbs, but both attacks are turned aside by Filarion’s armor...
The second one leaves a bruise on your chest...

Today: The Spirit of the Land rolled 8 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 2.  Attack shaken troll claws . 08:16, Today: The Spirit of the Land rolled 15 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 9.  Attack shaken troll claws.

A few more arrows hit the troll as Dovan directs the men to provide support

The individual bandits realize that not a one of them should go into combat with the troll. They had went from a dozen to 10 in the trolls first attack...

Filarion moves into his fighting stance, blade flashing out and around in a dizzying display of sword work. "Keep up the fire arrows while I keep the beast busy! Try to get your comrades!" He calls out as his blade works the monster over trying to keep it's attention soley on him.

Standard: Full attack
Move: None
Special: I get a +1 AC till next round when fighting as a full round action.

10:06, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 17,3 using D20+11,d8+2 with rolls of 6,1.  Attack/damage.

Most of the arrows go wide setting random patches of grass on fire

The troll attacks!!!

20:11, Today: The Spirit of the Land rolled 17 using 2d6+10 with rolls of 2,5. 20:11, Today: The Spirit of the Land rolled 8 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 2.  Shaken troll attack claws 2. 20:10, Today: The Spirit of the Land rolled 26

Filarion takes 22 points of damage!
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:04, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

Dovan calls out
“Lure the beast to me here at the wagon!”

The bandits move towards the wagon still sending flaming arrows into the troll

After the troll finished almost drops him, Filarion starts to move tactically twords Dovan.

Full: Total defense +4 AC
Free: 5' step towards Dovan

I'm sure he would know that a troll has reach given its a large creature, but wouldn't know how high its CMD is. Coupled with the attacks and knowing he can't take another hit, he wouldn't just full on run away.

Fingers crossed

As Filarion retreats a chorus of flaming arrows fly into the trolls face, confused and temporarily blinded the troll lurches swiftly forward, swiping at the air wildly he catches two more bandits catching them he bites one and then rends the other like wringing a wash cloth...a gout of blood pouring out over the ground...

The bandits scream and run....

Leaving Dovan standing at the edge of the wagon and taunting the troll.
“Come beast and die!”

Filarion finds the pitch filled wagon between himself and the troll...
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:56, Wed 14 Oct 2020.

"Yes!" Filarion yells in agreement, "You nearly got me. Come and finish me off." Since he was already in position, the elf was trying to get the beast to charge.

The beast obliges and charges headlong for Dovan and the wagon...

A ball of flame erupts as the troll crashes into the wagon

The flaming troll crashes through the firebomb and kills two more bandits in his path

Dovan himself lands hard and flaming next to the remarkably unscathed Filarion

The shocked bandits that remain continue to fire arrows at the flame covered troll

If Filarion stops to help Dovan, the troll will just keep eating the other people. If he doesn't, there's a good chance the man will die.

"One of you help Dovan!" He yells at the bow men and then charges the troll hoping beyond hope that the explosion weakened the beast enough to finish him off.

Full round action: charge
AC drops to 14

04:25, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 25,5 using D20+13,d8+2 with rolls of 12,3.  Attack/damage.

If this is impossible, the attack is a 23 and my AC goes back to 16.

Filarion braves the flames enough to wound the troll, but the fire is so hot he finds his hand singed and burned slightly
The troll misses Filarion but kills another bandit on his way out.

Dovan is groaning on his back a bandit picks him up
“He’s alive.”

The troll falls to its knees and dies while the flame consumes it fully...

Signing in relief, Filarion moves to Dovan calling out for a healer if there's one. Looking at one of the bandits, he says, "Make sure all of the troll is burned. A single piece left could come back. Even if you have to burn the blood. Just try not to set a brush fire."


"Dovan," he says, "are you okay? Can you walk?"

Dovan is burned and had the wind knocked out of him, he nods and smiles broadly
“What a wild ride! One in a million, next time you can stand on the wagon.”

Dovan pulls you close and whispers in your ear
“When we get back come with me to the basement the old healer is kept down there, without healing it is likely we will be finished off by one of my rivals.”

"That was stupid," the elf says with a chuckle. "You humans act like you'll never die, but your lives are so short. How about next time not standing on the huge fire bomb?"

To his whispered comment, he simply nods in understanding.

He helps Dovan to his feet before getting a few of the bandits to help bury the dead and collect any valuables with the direct impression that everything is to go to their families if they have any.

I'm going to assume this will take the test of the day. Do I know when the Stag Lord is going to attack Oleg's? If I don't I'll make a point to ask Dovan when it's to happen.

“Nay it was a prophetic dream I had, in the dream I knew I would survive.  I will tell you more of it later, we should begin our celebration.”

Dovan pulls out a flask, the other bandits do likewise

He throws his arm around your shoulders... you find yourself carrying a portion of his weight
You realize his bravado is an attempt to cover the true extent of his injuries

You help him onto his horse and ride back to the Staglord fort...

The elf plays along and let's Dovan show him the way to his healer.

Arriving at the fort Dovan is still speaking bravely...

“Come Phil, I have got that item I promised you.”

He smiles and begins leading you deep into the fort
“Yes yes I know elves and long names and all.”

You find yourself underground in what can only be described as a root cellar..
an old man in tattered robes sits in a corner...

Dovan offers the man his arm, the man casts a healing spell
“Your turn.”

He frowns at the "Phil", but says nothing as they head to his healer. Once inside, the elf had some trepidation on being willingly effected by a spell caster he doesn't know. He decides he's already this deep, he might as well go further and accepts.

What God does he call upon?

19:07, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 4 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 2.  Know religion (untrained).

Sad trombone

The old man holds a sprig of mistletoe and takes your hand...

The man’s touch is cold and wet like a dogs nose
The moistness is unsettling but the healing is real...
The Spirit of the Land, on behalf of Filarion Petxalim, rolled 11 using 2d8+5 with rolls of 3,3.  Healing magic.

Dovan addresses the man
“Thank you, the father.”

The old man only says
“You are too late the main force has deployed against Oleg; the prisoner has been taken if true they will face magic they do not expect.   Stay down here and rest they will not seek you here.”

Filarion slumps down and sits either on a chair or the floor, his head down. "I came here to stop this. By fighting amongst ourselves, we are weakening ourselves when the troll king shows himself." The healing has erased half of his wounds, but the claw lines could still be seen red and angry.

The old man mutters...
“I am the father....the father...”

Dovan
“I have been working here to take over, but to no avail yet...I believe the father can heal you again in the morning...”

The old man mutters,,,
“No hope of men not fighting each other, even here the men fight to take over.  The sins of the father coming to fruition in the son.”

Dovan
“Help us and leave,”


“I cannot this is my fault and here I must stay.”


The next day... the old man heals you both up to full health...

The elven warrior nods his thanks for the healing and listens intently. "What do you mean?" He asks the old man as he mutters. "Who are you the father of?"

Dovan shakes his head and puts up his hand

The old man mutters....
“I am the father of misfortune, the father of failure, the father, the father.....the father.”
His voice trails off....


Dovan
“I have been down this path before and I know not what he means.  Some think he was a priest of this temple, the father; obviously he has healing magic I know not what else he can do, nor what faith he follows...others think he is to blame for some unknown misfortune and is under a dark curse.  I do not even know his name, nor do I know if he himself knows it.  One certainty he will not leave this place.”

Filarion just grunts in understanding. Knowing next to nothing of human gods, he can't even begin to know who we worships. Standing up, he thanks the priest before turning to Dovan. "So what's the plan?"

Dovan
“My plan remains the same to take over this place and organize it into a proper respectable garrison.”

"That's all well and good, but what's the plan for right now? Surely there are other captains, lieutenants, whatever they're called that will get behind you, correct? If you're going to take over, you have to have the backing of other leaders."

"Yes I have allies and opponents.  Though most believe my goal is to take over the Staglord's role and maintain a bandit stronghold, rather than complete infiltration and destruction of the root of evil."

Filarion tries to get a read on the human.

09:18, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 7 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 4.  Sense Motive.

"My biggest opposition is a fallen paladin, I was second in command until he arrived, and he is a tough customer...I hesitate to kill him as I think there is some hope for redemption....but the staglord..I have seen not a glimmer of hope for the man."

Filarion finds no reason to doubt the man.... you can roll again if you like...

"A fallen paladin you say? Tell me more about him."

17:52, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 20 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 17.  Sense Motive.

17:54, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 13 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 8.  Know nobility.

Dovan
“Aye, his name is Akiros Ismort, he has been with us only a few months, and he became second in command.  Once here I kept a close eye upon him, he does not like his lot amongst bandits.  I also made inquiries into his history.  He got involved with a married woman, rather than divorce her husband she claimed he had forced himself upon her.  That broke him and he killed the woman and her husband in front of the magistrates but managed to escape.”

Do I know anything else with my roll?

From your roll you recall hearing that story about that person....

Filarion thinks for a moment, "You do realize that he'll have to answer for his crimes? He ran once, and that makes him dangerous. Do you know if he's fully embraced his fall? I've heard rumors of dark paladins that are fueled by evil powers."

“Not a hint of dark powers, but he is a good swordsman and tough.  Like I said a candidate for redemption. “

Dovan looks thoughtful
“Perhaps we should see whom here might still oppose your plan to band the humans together.”

The elf warrior strokes his chin in a very human like manner. "Are you thinking subtly or showy? Because I'm not very subtle." He gives the human a conspiratorial grin. "You know them better, choose."

Dovan
“Depends who is still here, and whether or not you can defeat the Staglord.”

"For now I'm going to need to know more about him. What abilities he has, where he gets his power, things like that. If he uses magic, I'll have little to counter it."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:44, Tue 01 Dec 2020.

“Not sure about magic, I have seen him fire an arrow through a helmet slot and punch a horse with enough force to knock it out.”  Could be magic or an item...”

"Are you sure no one has seen his face?"

Filarion thinks, "Where is his home? Maybe we can sneak in to it and find some important information."

Dovan does a double take...
"Sure we have seen him without the helmet, but we know him by no other name and doo not recognize him.  I have heard he has been in this area his whole life, so a local.  Everyone lives here in the fort, sleeping arrangements are catch as catch can, except the Staglord himself has a room that is his own, on the ground level, in the back corner.  as you could see the upper level has partially collapsed."


This message was last edited by the GM at 15:12, Sun 06 Dec 2020.

Is this a picture of just his cabin or the fort? Which part is the collapsed part?

This is only the bottom level of the fort
The top level is not shown

Noticing his look, he asks, "What was that for? I need to know what I'm dealing with if I'm going to fight him. Shooting arrows out of one's head isn't a normal ability. I was thinking he might be an construct of some kind, but you say you've seen his face without the Stag helmet. It's he human or another race?"

Okay, so the picture is the whole fort

OK the whole fort.....



This message was lightly edited by the GM at 12:54, Sat 12 Dec 2020.

“Just a plain human man. What are you going on about?  The staglord fired an arrow from his longbow and it went right through a man’s helmet,....now an arrow coming out a a helmet would be a sight to witness and how it could be done without magic; that is some imagination.” 

Dovan eyes you like he is massively confused

He looks back at the human, realization dawning, "Right, I misunderstood. Common can be difficult at times for those of us that didn't grow up speaking it. So, if I sneak into his living space, will I encounter any guards or is it empty?"

“Once we go topside we will run smack in the middle of everyone and I will have to introduce you as a rapscallion from my hometown.  Not a bandit but something similar, you don’t really look like a brawler, bouncer or enforcer...what do you suggest a guard who takes bribes?”

"It doesn't matter to me," the elf says looking over at the 'father', " but we need to have our story completely fleshed out before we do so. Your fellow bandits have probably already talked about what happened, so we need to do this quickly."

“Agreed then so to avoid detail is best, we met once in passing on a busy night, the 3rd of Desrictch on the night the guard was tossing the alleys when Duke Ferdinand was poisoned.  Most no accounts left and there were many murders and arsons that night.  We teamed up to escape through smugglers tunnels and parted ways right after.”

"Then let's go," the elf stands, adjusts his sword belt, and then waits for Dovan to lead the way.

The bandits are in disarray and are sitting with feet propped on crates around a fire.

A makeshift cell houses a large animal that is sleeping on a straw bed, the area wreaks of scat and ammonia

One on the men greet you both
“Heard that troll nearly did you in.  Was a heck of a tall tale told about it.  Why don’t you two tell us what happened.”

Dovan
“Heard a troll was coming, so I decided to take it on.  That is about it.”

"Don't be so modest," Filarion says with a laugh and a slap on the human's shoulder. "There he was, on top of the pitch wagon," the elf says starting the story, "while I and some of the other men tried to get the beast into position. Then Dovan here knocks the barrel over, and, like a idiot, lits it on fire."

"Blows himself, the wagon, and the troll to pieces. If I hadn't've been there, he would have killed himself. Pretty risky, but he got the job done. If it hadn't been for his idea in the first place, who knows if that thing would have showed up here. It probably would have eventually. A troll can do allot of damage before it's felled, that's for sure."

Idk if you want me to roll anything. Everything I said was the truth. At least up to this point.

The survivors of the foray nod in agreement

Dovan
“My understanding is a band of trolls pose a risk to us here and we cannot exactly lite the fort on fire in hopes of killing them.  Only real route I see is the tactics the dragon hunters use.  Large bolts to pin them, teams of horses to drag them into fires ready to burn hot enough to destroy them.  I do not want to do it the hard way again.”

The men offer drinks and a hearty laugh

“Most everyone left to raid the Traders compound, some of us disagreed that it would be bad for charging a toll for passage.”

Dovan winks at you
“True enough repeat customers are better than dead ones.”

Filarion keeps quiet to let the bandits speak.

OCC: my plan is to gather some info before making my way to the Stag Lord's living quarters for recon

The bandits seem amazed that anyone knows anything about dragon hunters, but Dovan is very mysterious, and it is as likely as not he has some experience in any number of things.

It is also apparent that the Staglord himself has went with the main force that went out to attack Oleg's

OCC: Are there any guards? Do you want me to roll a Perception?

The bandits remaining at the fort are standard ones, except the obvious fallen Paladin

No one is really on guard duty, mostly poking the fire and drinking...

Filarion walks around, grabbing himself a drink as he does so before finding himself at the Stag Lord's room. Looking about, he skipped into the area before his living quarters.

OCC: I'm double checking that no one's watching me before I move into z7.05:34, Today: Filarion Petxalim rolled 4 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 3.  Perception.

Welp. . ..

No one notices as you step away from the circle of the fire...

Dovan decides to talk a bit more about battling monsterous creatures...

“For dragons you need chain and trolls also, rope can pull them in, but whatever locks them in place for burning needs to survive the fire.  The block and tackle must be safely away.  Plan to lose a tree for each troll burned, or to set our own deep heavy poles into the ground. Lots of work but we should set a couple in the meantime.”

Sneaking around....

Thick layers of animal hides insulate
this room’s walls. In one corner
rests a ragged bed draped with
threadbare silks and thick furs.
On the floor, three stout chests
serve as furniture, cluttered with
empty liquor bottles. A few more
bottles lie scattered about the floor, leaving the
room reeking of stale alcohol.

Is there an open path to the chests or do the bottle litter everywhere?

You believe you can aviod the empty bottles and do so easily.
You encounter a locked chest.....

Looking at the other two, he tries to see if they are locked as well.

The chests are locked....and as far as you can tell no one has noticed you left....

Having no ability to open the chests, Filarion takes the hint and leaves. On his way out, he checks through the storage area, curious if there was anything interesting before he started listening to the others.

bump

My bad...Filarion finds a chest that contains the exchanged spoils of years of banditry about 1000 platinum coins...

Filarion decides against taking any of the platinum. It would be partially his in due time. This was as good a time as any to start feeling out the fallen paladin so he starts looking for him.

The former Paladin is easy to spot as he pokes the fire with a stick having little motivation for anything and a chip on his shoulder

He notices your eyes upon him....

Filarion moves towards the fallen paladin with his most winning smile. "Hail and well met," the elf says as he walks up. "I am Filarion Petxalim, a warrior newly arrived. Dovan said that I should try to introduce myself to everyone here and get to know them better."

“Not much point in that this is limbo or pergatory, or just an existence.  Nothing to say but it is...”

"Ahh," he says with a broad smile, "but even they have denizens with their own machinations. You seem more experienced than the other ragamuffins around here, are you the Stag Lord's right hand man?"

“Seems to be how I have ended up, here in the armpit of the earth.”

He nods, "What if I told you that I overheard rumors that there were," he looked around for noisy persons that might overhear them talking, "talking of revolting against the Stag Lord?"

The man offers a small chuckle
“Yeah nearly to a man they talk about having their own crew or if they were in charge how it would be different, sounds like more of the same.  Dovan might could keep them in line, but that one…”
He just shakes his head side to side