Hawkes Bay Kingmaker

No more Reindeer for Stag Lord

So there they were, a mishmash group of adventurers setting their individual gazes upon the Bastion of Bandit Badness. Ringed with natural barriers on most access points the only noticeable way in would be by frontal assault. Quandary was, to the manned gates or chance their luck with an alternative. ‘Lets go guys, fuck em up by frontal assault’ was one option ventured. ‘No go with subterfuge and trick them!’ was another. Or perhaps the side. Or by air. By sea? God lets go underground…‘I know charge em! The minds were changed so often that the poor casters had aneurisms trying to plan their spells for the big showdown.
One, at this point of proceedings, could not be blamed for contemplating what could’ve been if the intolerant self righteous Paladin hadn’t ripped out the captured bandits tongues with his sword. On the way of making him swallow it..
Anyhows the plan was hatched and given life like a disabled duckling. Under cover of night and spell made fog the party crept in from the flank. Eh this is to easy. Till the zombies showed up that is. Like on a walking dead show the walking dead closed in hungry for their prey. Meh easy pickings for the heroes. Cept they couldn’t see. Ah well details like that bring colour to an otherwise gloomy fight. Party members dead 0 ; Zombies slain = many.
Reaching the palisade the Elf casts his helpful rope spell and after the monk finished any chance of the bad guys impersonating ‘The Great Escape’ over the top they went. Picking off the rear guard one by one the group slowly arrive to an inevitable conclusion. The fight with the Stag Lord and his minions would be fought in earnest with neither side holding a clear advantage.
Entering the inner sanctums the final die are cast and a mighty, albeit very localized, battle ensues. The quickly learned druid blasts away a cylindrical arena of debris and the lowbies are silenced instantaneously. Leaving the Lord and his Lieutenants. Charging the rogue and preventing him loosing a ravaging owlbear leans the fight in our heroes favour. However some nasty sneaky ranged attacks from the Lord quickly wipe smug looks from their faces.
Luckily the party have the advantage of ‘Most Standout Magic in a Short Campaign’ nominations. So through magic healing, missiles and Bull Strength the group slowly batter down their opponents. Once one of them sees what is just and joins the fight against the bandits the end comes all to soon. The Stag Lord is no more..
As well as the new found loot, the party find themselves with a workable fortified base and the assistance of a fallen Paladin. One who is willing to atone for his past misdeeds and guard the newly reborn temple a close distance away. Luckily for Roache he accepts the offer for if his tendency to violate first and ask questions later came through the Elf was going to colour spray his ass. Which would have probably proven to be ineffective but at least there would be pretty rainbow in this otherwise gloomy night.
All that stands in their way of total loot freedom is a crazy old man in the dungeon below..

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Fathers and snakes

On a previous night during watch a ghostly visage appeared to one of the courageous party members. Wait. Hang on it was Roache so i stand corrected. Anyways it turns out the apparition shared a remarkable resemblance to Laerian’s father which in turn bade the party to venture onwards into regions unknown to maybe solve a mystery that had so far thwarted Laerian.
Thank god for plot. While the importance wasnt lost on any, the party showed its usual penchant for doing the opposite and preceded to go else where. Eventually Plot caught up and the group set off in the direction that would prove to turn up some surprises. With a grasp of new powers they were tasked to rid the lands of some snake thingy, make a witchy poo erased from reality along with investigating the ghost of a father.
Happening on a pile of boulders with a sword thrust into it suggested the creation of a hastily made cairn. Mumbling something about the wrongness of it all the paladin distanced himself proving to some that he really was a pussy. Lareian watched thoughtfully on while the others, particularly the nature boy and elf, debated on what to do. With actions speaking louder than words the mound was opened..
Suspicions were proven correct. It was indeed a burial site and the murdered headless victim did indeed bear the arms and trinkets of Learian’s house. By all accounts his ol man had passed on from the mortal lands. Taking what was appropriate the party sanctifies his last resting place and moves on, solving one mystery but perhaps asking more questions..
Covering good ground and besting encounters the new wilds threw at them they come across the dreadful man-snake in its swampy habitat. At least that would have been the case if the memo had got to the monk. Proceeding to show how much of a quick lil fucker he was he races over the difficult terrain and stun shots it. End of man-snake thingy.
Feeling adventurous as adventurers do they travel onwards until they stumble upon an awful visage. A festering fen of water lies as a landmark to the corpse of a slain noble unicorn. In absolute sacrilege the once mighty creature of Fey was dehorned, killed by evil necromancy. Visibly upset the Elf urges the group to move on before more foul happenstances occur. Needing the grief of the encounter to be a warning to all that is Fair he shares the atrocity with the parties tiny Fey companion. Causing it to cry. Upset at the upsetness the Druid smacks the Elf making him cry. Now we have upsetness everywhere!
How will the party cope? Will this prove to much for the health bar of the heroes?

Not really, as the traits of apathy and narcissism run strong in their blood..

To cap an otherwise successful foray into the swamp the party establishes with a slimy Boggart that ‘Truce’ is indeed an international word. Maybe they have unwittingly, by sparing its life, made another new ally. Stranger things have happened and will continue to do so.

Leading onto the final chapter of this book the heroes move on vigilantly to the Stag Lords base with the potential victory of ridding the lands of his evil clutches once n for all.

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Of kobolds and men

During the moment when the departure of Durz was mourned it was noted that they were in need of a new recruit. As if on cue like a bad panto show a would be candidate stepped forward out of the grey mist. His name was Roach and according to him he was a Ser in the making and would be a fine addition. Seeing how the only other likely was a dubious half orc the decision by Learien was initially a straight forward one. Until the Elf exclaimed it was him or the orc which made the process a bit delayed. As tempting an opportunity as it was to be relieved of the wizard common adventurer sense prevailed and the new formation boasted a mighty Paladin.

cough

Once investigations proved of the importance of the newly acquired ivory statuette the party thought it was time to pay the kobold home base a visit. Somehow it was pertinent to their conflict with the not so mighty mites. Gaining an audience with the leader and his spiritual adviser through its possession proved its relevance. However just as thinks looked relatively simple the party experienced a wtf moment.

Turns out the shammy was in fact a kooky gnome with more than half a brain who was using his powers to manipulate the kobolds through their enforced worship of the false idol. His maniacal, though small scale, plans of revenge were coming to fruition when the party spoiled his party. Sensing a small hitch to his domineering plans of a small localized kobold empire he sprung his surprize and ordered his minions to attack.

Luckily he was more daft than craft and the heroes overcame the whelps with relative ease. With natural order restored the Chief of Clan (ex Sharptooth) tasked them to once and for all rid the area of the mite infestation. If successful they offer their allegiance to the group and their future endeavors. This was helped in part to the fact the party subdued the kobolds rather than just killing them. Perhaps Durz wont be so missed after all.

Loot n Stuff of note.
-Cold iron sickle for the Druid and funds to afford him an armour upgrade. Natural Tank Boy has arrived
-Wand of Magic Missile. Quickly appropriated by the Elf.

Now at this stage some points need to be mentioned. One is that the party is continuously thwarted by moving water. At any meeting of the local river the party treks miles to go around the obstacle. Another are the bandits. While they cant be the cream of their kind the local banditry leave a bit to be desired. Which doesn’t necessarily justify the treatment dealt to them at times. As long as its written on a paper its lawful and if its done quickly by sword then all good. Btw note to all bad guys, if you have any info to share then would pay to say so quickly. Some party members been known to dispatch criminals mid sentence. No mucking around please..

A night time raid by bandits proved no more successful then other efforts. With hungry melee savoring to wet blade and gloves the adventurers roused efficiently from slumber to dish out carnage. Through it all the Druid rained chaos of mist and entangle bits, all the while gleefully making a pot of tea.

The Chamber Under the Tree was located and wrapping their courage around them set forth to vanquish the subterranean enemy. Over a mighty chasm of 20 feet the sides met. Small size, lack of ammo and CC ability made the outcome no contest. Even letting loose their rabid pet centipede and throwing climb checks at the heroes didnt help much. Once the wizard turned the might of Evocation upon them they were stricken down in droves.

In the end the party has secured the fealty of the kobolds and greatly rid the area of vagrants and bandits. Having accurate intel on the names and whereabouts of the bandit chief and his lieu means their time will some come and his fate will mirror that of the under dwellers. Spurred by the promises of greater fame and claims for land the party draw the noose around the target and his mob.

.

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A farewell

Durz looked his companions over.

A noble warrior struggling to command an eclectic group of people in his first foray to the wilds, a quiet man refusing to remove his mittens, a druid who seemed determined to help the forests regardless of who stood in his way, allies or enemies and an elf with a purchance for shooting first (be that rainbows or arrows) and asking questions later.

The time had come to part ways. While this group had the makings of something special, it wasn’t something that worked for Durz. His glory and search for a way to join the Horde in the Sky when the time was right seemed to be devolving into a rather less than glorious nap face down in the dirt as he strove to keep the others from getting killed by every evil little critter that showed up.

“Thank you for allowing me to join you in your quest for all things evil. Now, however, is my time to depart. There are things I must do alone. WENCHING! KILLING! Gathering of glory by testing myself alone. Oh, and more wenching.”

He hopped on his horse and rode out of Olegs without a backwards glance…in fact…he seemed to be speeding up. The group turns to hear Oleg muttering about bloody theiving barbarians stealing perfectly good horses.

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down a hole

At the end of the previous session the party found themselves down a hole underneath the roots of a massive tree. There they discovered a mite (of the fey) who promptly squealed in horror and ran off. The large centipedes left behind as guards to their domain were easily dispatched.

After some consultation the party choose to venture more down the dark earthworks. Perhaps a hasty decision with hindsight. Further in they found one of the main rooms of the fey’s lair. There in waiting a dozen foes with their leader and a hideous giant tick played out the assault vs the intruders.

The ensuing melee was a long and drawn out one. The Tick proved to be more than a worthy opponent and when it latched itself to the knight and started literally sucking the life out of him, things looked grim indeed. Thankfully due to the prevalent random outcome of the druids entangle and the heroic nature of its members the party survived. Carrying their stricken comrades out, the party made a safe beeline back to base.

Treasure was looted and amongst the trivial was a map that hinted at more to be found. After safety was gained and reflections made one of the party members stood raised his weapon into the air and was surrounded by a swirl of gossamer lights. He instantly felt more worthy. There started a procession of whoops and colours as one by one the others stood and took their glory. All, cept the lonely elf who had joined at a later date.

Sensing his discomfort the caring druid (huh?) leaned over and assured him how his input was valuable. Nek minute he to stood and joined the ranks of others. Try and best us now evil denizens of the world..

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Bad day to be a horse
horse

By an ancestor of Phar Lap

So here we were living the existence that befits us, being brushed, rode around, plenty of feed and an occasional hit n run. All of a sudden outta the green come this bunch of weirdo two legs and we all off gallivanting round the country side rounding up bad two legs and getting all glorious n stuff. Now don’t get me wrong, it was kinda fun putting new life into the ol legs. In general it was alwite, part from the noisy weirdo that kept wanting to go bareback and forgetting to wear his underclothes at times … puh! eww yuck

Then shit got serious. So we have a good cruise on the good green grass and we camp one night on a hill next to a death stone. All the bright ones picked how wrong it was there but some ppl are just stupid. They spent more time over their discoveries of sticks and containers of eatable wood. Particularly the really weird fey one. No matter how much we protested they didn’t understand and there we stayed.

That abomination that appeared was a floating death. Gleefully it burnt and tormented its hapless foes that grim evening. The two legs gallantly fought the cursed soul and at last on the verge of collapse its morale was broken and off it blazed, screaming it promises of revenge.

Now.

You’d thing after some of those subtle hints that things would get mobile. But no. Some moron decided we should park up and have a good nights rest. Are you shittn me. If i ever get a chance to meet them again I will certainly be dreaming up suitable payback. When it reappeared the result was inevitable. It overcome our defense easily and prepared for its gluttonous hunger to be sated. Like the climatic end of a nights session the brave monk and druid carried off the victims while the steady knight kept it at bay.

They forgot one thing. The rest of us. Obviously it liked the thrill of a hunt but it cant have been to bothered either way as consumption was always guaranteed. The equine gods were prayed to that night. The Great Plains were unable to take their spirits into her bosom. The site left behind once only cursed will now surely be damned.

Thats all that mattered that happened. There was some episode of bad two legs trying to pose as normals and they were quickely put to the sword. Apparently once the nature weirdo gets his aim right they could even pose a threat to more worthy oppenents. But who cares Im not there anymore, proberly been replaced by some other hag

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The start of a mighty quest
The Second

From the memory of Durz, the mighty warrior:

I met my fellow explorers when Laerion the explorer was searching for able bodied people to helm him explore some wilderness. Apparently he had trouble and couldn’t find any useful people. Luckily for him, I, the mighty Durz was available to help. I have ploughed all the fair (and not so fair!) wenches and have nothing left to conquer in this wee hamlet. It was time to make my mark on this world once again and prove to the ancestors that I am worthy to join them in the horde in the sky.

Our first task was to defend a granery. The local wildlife dragged up a man in the form of a wild druid. He said something about getting a fix when I informd him who he had the pleasure of meeting. Perhaps this man can find something to take the edge off since it has been several days since I was last with a wench. If so, he may become a most valuable travelling companion! We also met a strange man wearing girlish robes and mittens. He seemed stoic or shy, but by the horde in the sky, he punches well! Perhaps I can convince him to try a real weapon and swing an axe like a true man…and lose the mittens and perhaps actually wear something that resembles combat wear. In fact, the next bear we find, I shall kill it, offer its soul to the horde and gift it to this Orek fellow. A mighty warrior such as I should lead by exmaple after all.

While gambling, some petty thugs threatened me. Me!?! Fools. I gave them leave to talk for a moment and then decided they obviously wanted the silence of death, and went to give it to them.

Some fool made weeds grow from beneath my feet and by the hells it was a pain to trample through. Still, that is one patch of weeds that will rue ever crossing the path of Durz! A lucky blow from a teacup sized human wounded me. While I was never in any real danger, the scar is mightily impressive and shall serve as yet another reminder of my prowess.

With the granery safe and the town full of conquered wenches behind us, Learion bade us move South to explore the lands and excecute the bandits in the area. At last! Real action. The horde shall drown in the blood of vanquished enemies!

We came across a small settlement and were greeted in the proper manner by the local wench. There must be something wrong with her though, because she didn’t seem to understand why I gave her coins. Perhaps she is simply so grateful to see me that she doesn’t require payment? I will pursue this further when I come back.

In the mean time, a sour man with a pleasing interest in slaughter asked for my help to deter some brigands demanding tribute in the form of food. When I suggested the best deterent was bodies mounted on sharp spikes, he agreed and thus, a deal was struck!

The others saw my fearless example and followed my lead. There was to be a glorious ambush and slaughter! Four bandits, fools that they were, wandered straight into my trap and lo, it was sprung. Unfortunately Learion was unable to catch one man, but we slaughtered three of them and they now serve as a warning for any other lackwits who think to take advantage of a place I am wenching.

For now, it is a good nights rest, possibly some of this fix from the druid, tree man and if I’m lucky, the wench will join me as well. Tis a good night to be Durz!

By Anon

I recall the first time this group of intrepid adventurers came together in full..The four hearty souls that returned from their exhaustive initial foray were flush with excitement from the success they had had. Upon returning to the keep for well deserved rest they met the last soul that would join the origins of the party. An elf, proclaiming to be a wizard, who came with all the foppish attitudes that befits the kind. While some were skeptical with his claims of prowess nonetheless he was welcomed into the fold. Some said later that it appeared the group was finally complete with reference to a glove on the hand. One was over heard stating if that was the case, which one was the finger that best expressed the term F**K you…

The elf came with the name Imajica, tho to this day it sounded more like Brian the Elf. Most peculiar

After loot was traded and bodies recuperated the band set off for the next phase of their mission. A day in they came across a shroom patch. Not that unique by normal opinion, cept this particular crop was apprehended by a task of kobolds. Now the thing with Fey, even ones as reprehensible as these, is that they aren’t inherently good or evil. They’re just Fey…

With several options available the outcome was chosen by the bastard barbarian who shooed them off in no uncertain terms. As this point it must be said the barbar was able to mention the word glorious in every statement he made no matter the context. That and the fact he needed a more appropiate belt for his trousers.

Eventually after days of relative uneventful travels they came across a bandit camp! What could have been a challenge fraught with danger proved instead that the party was more than prepared for such an encounter. After some comical and strange concurrences (The ground they stood on suddenly had the means to fog rapidly) the ensuing fight was brutal but short lived. The elf proved he was useless with a bow (he claimed it was because he wasnt using a long bow but after procuring one he proved he was just as useless with that). The man with mighty mittens proved he was a force to be reckoned with and if enemy blood was evidence of glory then the barbarian had that to excess. Was the fearless leader Learion able to maintain his aura of superiority with this bold show of primal force?

Securing the area to make safe for travelers meant the party found their way back to base with booty and stories for all. There they met a holy man who had a strange symbol above his head. Even with his story as dubious as it was the group accepted a mission presented by the cleric with holy gifts offered if successful. Strange that not long after this encounter the strange symbol changed and greyed out

Heading south this time into areas unknown they came across a hovel lived in by a slightly mad alchemist. He bade them welcome and offered chemical treats if they would ever come across special mushrooms loved by member’s of the Fey. Luckily the eccentric fool failed to notice the accusing looks given to Durz. To his credit he looked slightly abashed by this. Well as much as he was able to.

The last segment of this part of the journey has a thread of controversy sown into it. Out of no where the band stumbled upon an area of plain that was evident of some unnatural power for it was littered with the skeletons of many. Needing to prove to all who was the real alpha Learion, seeing Durz hesitate at this phenomenon bravely set off with the Elf to explore. Suddenly a beast of a critter, its countenance sweating with evil and venom, sprung its trap on the two mortal souls. With a seemingly calm reaction the Leader drew his Great sword and slew the abomination with one mighty blow.

Durz proclaims that the elf bewitched the creature before the KB was landed and therefore undermines the gloriousness compared to his slaying of the bandit leader. The elf was seen to spray colours of magic rainbow at the beast thus weakening it. As the Elf was seen to use this against the bandits only causing them to wet themselves with laughter, this statement is at its present state purely speculative.

End of part deus

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Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.

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