King of the Stolen Lands

Session 2: Wayfarers of the Greenbelt – 12/03/2011
Mabel McCurren

[Session 2: Wayfarers of the Greenbelt – 12/03/2011]

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I woke up from a disabling blow to find out that some gypsy women standing over me. I proceeded to check if the bandits were slain, or bound, and bathed the area in healing of the divinities. I then proceeded in securing resources to fund the expedition. I detected that one of the items was some sort of magical potion, valued at the minimum 50 Galifars, the gypsy clamed the magical elixir, and acted like she was entitled to it.

She offered to join the expedition, at least in an informal fashion, and no one protested. It is certainly welcome to have another target on the field of battle to increase ones odds of survival. It turns out that she is a local, and is somewhat familiar with the area. Jessi-Belle could be a welcomed member as having a local traveling with us could prove useful.

Unfortunately the walking target, Kurgar, went back to Oleg’s Trading Post seeking to send a messenger requesting payment from the Sword Lords. I will miss him on the battlefield, but not at mealtime.

We entered a wood infested with fey. Kalanvrae had his sandals swapped out for bread, Jessi-Belle must have had something stolen and replaced with voodoo dolls, and my bathing bowel’s water was replaced with the sweet golden honey of The Greenbelt! I could not believe my fortune! I enjoyed quite the snack, and carefully pored as much as would fit into an empty vial. This will be quite the treat to add to my morning oats!

We did not find Svetlana’s wedding ring. Nephwick’s lackey, Clarence, claims that some little blue men living under a tree took it. I have never seen, nor heard of such beings, mights he called them.

I am apprehensive, but a job is a job, and I want to get on the good side of the Leveton’s. They could stand to introduce us to the local hunters, and trappers of The Greenbelt. They could buy the spoils of our anti-banditry operation, and hopefully possess a mail order catalog. I am thinking in investing in their business. We have yet to find other traders, and I get the impression that they are it. If we are to have a foothold in this land, then economics, and a good name will prove to be most useful. Yes, perhaps offering gold for store credit would be a good place to begin in aiding Oleg’s Trading Post.

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Kalanvrae went off scouting without me. I do not like being left without the martial symmetry a swordsman offers my particular divine blessings. He found two four trolls! Four! They were playing in the water, splashing, and playfully hitting each other with two deer . . . as if they were highborn girls on a nighttime retreat pillow fighting . . . and then evidently they began with the “pillow talk.”

I am not terribly thrilled with the number of trolls the expedition has encountered, five to date. I think we should arm ourselves with what anti-troll paraphernalia we can find, and afford before we are whisked away to be devoured in some fifthly den.

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Jessi-Belle is not convinced that we are the local constables, and that Nephwick is a king. I will let her figure out that he is insane on her own, it should not take much time. It would seem that the expedition does not mind having a king along, or at least does not mind humoring him. Thus far it has not been an issue.

We found the hundred-foot tree easily enough, and began our initial observations. Ghazog and Jessi-Belle noticed six of them running, two broke off from the group, and we succeeded in tracing them down. They were less than cooperative, and evidently are some sort of enclave of sentient vermin bandits. As such we decided to eradicate them.

Next we tracked down the group of four, fortunately to find them pre-slain. Kobolds seem to be helping in our efforts to rid the area of bandits. I only hope they prove to be of the civilized, or otherwise peaceful variety.

Randall, should make short work of these mights. Ghazog did well befriending such a devastating magical creature. I look forward to the fray, and hope we find the spoils necessary to obtain some troll slaying implements.

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Session 1: Into the stolen lands – 11/12/2011
Mabel McCurren

[Session 1: Into the stolen lands – 11/12/2011]

24th day of Therendor

I have been hired by Lord Brindol the Regent of the Dragondscale in order to explore, map, and pacify banditry in the wilderness region of the Stolen Lands known as The Greenbelt.

My fellow explorers consist of a Darkesh (some form of silk wearing elf) ranger by the name of Kalanvrae D’Arzanath, a half-orc druid by the name of Ghazog, a dwarf mercenary by the name of Kurgar Mourngrim, and a gnome sorcerer noble by the name of Nephwick.

I remember my parents working closely with some form of elves in my childhood. Darkesh, of all things, reminds me of my cudgel, and dagger of elven make, and magic – mysterious, and deadly.

Similarly I remember tails of my parents battling a scourge of an orc tribe while aligned to an elven tribe of some sort. The half-orc does not quite sit right with me. I can feel the anger flow from the elevn weapons while in Ghazog’s presence. I must endeavor to keep my feelings, and that of the weapons separate, and make note that Ghazog is not an enemy of my family.

Kurgar will be quite useful, he is heavily armed, heavily armored, and obnoxiously loud. I am sure the attention of territorial wildlife, and bandits will be focused on this fellow well before noticing me.

Nephwick is . . . special. He thinks everyone he meets is one of his subjects. Kurgar has convinced Nephwick that he is in his employ, and has started collecting salary. I am hesitant to follow suit in case the sorcerer manages to overcome his delusions, and in a moment of clarity entrances me into thinking I am a cricket.

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We met Oleg, and Svetlana Leveton, presented our charter, and began hunting bandits forth width. We set a trap in the center of the small trading post during the early hours when the morning mist is prevalent, and the lighting soft. Kurgar began the battle, and is a skilled armsman. Ghazog ambushed the men on their horses. Ghazog’s badger companion is quite terrifying, and did more harm to the bandits than one would think possible. Darkesh ambushed the laeader, rushing from the barn, and did battle. Nephwick ambushed a group of mounted bandits, but was quickly struck down. I spend most of the fray bestowing divine luck on others, and healing. I was able to get in a particularly well placed sling stone though the use of a well timed truestrike spell.

We took a prisoner, interrogated him, equipped a stout wagon, and as spoils of war were the proud owners of a half-dozen fine riding horses.

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The party split up. Darkesh, and I skulked along a path near where the bandits were said to be. We were ambushed. Knowing I had healing spells Darkesh bravely drew there fire as I mad a dash to warn the party. We were able to regroup, and bring force to bear.

Once again Ghazog’s badger tore into the opposition with a ferocity equaled to none. I am beginning to wounder if the badger is possessed by some nefarious specter of bloodlust.

The party opened with ranged attacks on the bandits while Ghazog’s bewitched the forest to twist its foliage upon the thieving brigands very feet, thus entwining them in place. Nephwick ensorcelled them to sleep with a enchanting lullaby. We were doing quite well till their leader nearly slew three of the band. I feel as if I should have quaffed the potion of sharkhood, and did an end to her while we wrestled in the river bank. Darkesh chased two of the bandits into the forest, and reclaimed stolen treasures to fill the bands coffers.

This is turning out to be quite the adventure.

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Session 3: Beneath the Old Sycamore Tree – 12/22/2011
Mabel McCurren

[Session 3: Beneath the Old Sycamore Tree – 12/22/2011]

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Today we attempted a foray into the depths of the mites subterranean layer. The labyrinthine tunnels run deep and are supported by the root system of a massive sycamore tree.

The mites infesting the sycamore tree are of the odd sort, and seem to play at games that injure and maim one another. The expedition witnessed a game where they used miniature catapults, laded with spiked caltrops, endeavoring to lob them into their compatriots gapping maws.

We rescued a kobold that goes by the name of Micmac and identifies himself as a member of the sootscale tribe. Understandably he was quite gracious and seemed to be of the logical sort. I have hopes that his tribe would make for an agreeable alliance.

Nephwick’s magic has proved useful once more though sleeping a group of four of the nasty creatures. More poured forth from the bowls of the den. A particularly ugly mite rode on the back of an unusually large sized tick to do battle. He summoned forth a giant centipede that terrified Nephwick. Kalanvrae did battle with the dreaded beast. I was nearly fatally wounded. Kalanvrae managed to slow it down so that Nephwick, Jessi-Belle, and I could escape.

I blacked out near the end to find myself in the cart. Nephwick is going on holiday. I don’t think he will be back. Kalanvrae is not among us, and is assumed to be dead by at the means of the sycamore’s centipede. He will be missed.

We will need new recruits. Perhaps we bolster our ranks with sootscale kobolds. Perhaps Kurgar’s letter will bring more mercenaries to the expedition.

Today was a bad day. I am hoping better for tomorrow.

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