[D&D 3.5, E6] The Colony at Gaunche [IC]

[esorscher]

After a week long voyage to the island of Gaunche, you set forth from the ship and see little more than a walled campground. Tall, 15' high walls surround an area a little more than an acre, and white canvas tents dot the interior in pre-planned paths, with footsteps beating the future sites of roads, should the colony Vinganca be more successful than its predecessor.

There is one building, in the center of the fort, a two-story, thatched roof construction maybe 40' by 40'. This is the administration building, where Diego Velas'qez has specifically directed you NOT to come.

No, your letter from the colonial governor gives you a different meeting place, one much less in plain view. There is a small field, yet unclaimed, along the eastern wall of the fort. Velas'qez has directed you to meet him there, by the wall.

He sees you coming, and waves to you. Of course, the wave wasn't necessary. His bright suit of armor gleams in the noonday sun, breaking up the greenish tan of the grass and the brown of the wall, both extending at least 50' in either direction. It is as if this meadow, tucked away behind the tents, exists deliberately, for purposes just such as these--secret meeting, secret rendezvous, out of the public eye (for gossip travels fast in this small community). Over the brilliant suit of armor is a white tunic, a red sun silhouetted on its chest. His tanned face contrasts against the armor, looking darker than it is. Standing next to him, a young, black-haired man in a chain shirt, with a great sword on his back.

You assemble, and soon, the rest arrive. Velas'qez surveys those gathered before him. A man made of steel, a metal golem fashioned in the form of a terrible upholder of law. A goblin, a native to the island of Gaunche and of a tribe obviously allied to the Iberians. A "savage" from another land, a human from one of Iberian's subject territories.

"Welcome," he says, his voice is deep and baritone. "Let me begin by saying that this unit is top-secret. Anything we discuss, nobody can know. Believe me, if word got out that you three are in the service of the Iberian Grand Army, this colony would dissolve into chaos in a second.

"So don't tell anyone you're working for me, y'hear? This is Ranier Vaspez, he's you're commanding officer. You four are going to be working on missions you get directly from me. Missions that you are uniquely suited for, missions that the military regulars aren't suited for.

"There's some funny-smelling things on this island. The orcs have got some strange magic amongst them. Everything we've been able to learn about them shows that whatever it is, our top wizards are unable to duplicate it.

"Three miles west of here, there is an orc outpost defended, our scouts say, by these bizarre arcanists. Anywhere from a handful to a dozen. They may be dumb, but they've got some good battle tactics. Be careful. You've got to take the tower, and find out anything you can about their magic."


Facts about Gaunche/ Vinganca:

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Gaunche is an arched stretch of land 300 miles from its eastern tip to its western tip (as the bird flies--to walk from one end of the arch to the other is a distance of 500 miles), and 20 miles wide at its widest point. The island is home to two warring cultures, each made up of an assembly of tribes. One, dominated by orcs, holds the west half of the island. The other, mostly made up of goblin tribes, holds the east.

The colony of Vinganca is located 1 mile east of the border between orc and goblin territory, on the goblin side of the line. The goblins allow it for trade purposes, and the Iberians have yet to attack goblin holdings, wisely choosing to conquer the island one people at a time.

The population of Vinganca (and thus the Iberian presence on Gaunche) numbers around 300, most of which are low-level fighters and warriors under Velas'qez's command. Among the remainder are:

• one blacksmith
• four low-level clerics
• one high-level cleric
• one merchant

There are no women in the colony, yet. Magic items are obtainable, but must be ordered from Iberia. Delivery can take weeks or sometimes months, and sometimes, not at all.

Iberian History of the Setting:

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The island of Gaunche is 600 miles southwest of Iberia. The Iberians, having recently left their peninsula and improved on their maritime technology to the point of surpassing all other cultures, are the first to reach the island by sea for 2500 years, since Gaunche's natives first emigrated from the northern coast of the Darklands. In fact, Iberia has been creeping along this coast, trading with Darkland tribes for slaves and spices.

For the last 2500 years, the island of Gaunche has been in an almost constant state of conflict. The first settlers, monstrous humanoids (orcs, goblins, and the like) cast off from Darkland society, soon split into two factions, each recognizable by their dominant demographic. The western half of the island is under the sway of a largely orc tribe, while the eastern half of the island is occupied by goblins. Both tribes have some representation of human, kobold, lizardfolk, and hobgoblin.

Gaunche was first discovered 14 years ago by Juan Desanto. He declared the island under Iberian rule and founded the first colony, Esperanca, which failed in three years. The failure of Esperanca can be attributed to three main factors: location, mismanagement, and weather.

For the site of Esperanca, Desanto, ignorant of the existing political makeup of the island, selected a position just on the orc side of the border between the two tribes. Its close proximity to the frontier ensured it would be the target of constant assault, by both tribes. An excellent soldier, Desanto was able to defend the fort, but the upkeep was costly, both in men and in gold.

Desanto was as keen in his greed as in his warmaking. He applied the same tactical mind to his own larceny, and his administration was plagued with corruption and bureaucracy--the latter facilitated by the insanely complex political machinations of the Iberian empire back home. Much of the resources accrued by the colony were lost to the linings of Desanto's pockets, and the deliberate inefficiency of his cronies. More was lost on the seas, to pirates and privateers of rival colonial powers.

The shipping lanes between Iberia and Gaunche, in addition to being plagued by pirates, also weathered terrible storms. These disrupted shipping for weeks at a time, cutting off communication, reinforcement, and resources.

In the end, the fort proved to costly to maintain, and was abandoned. Desanto died soon after his return to Iberia. In the months that followed, ambitious soldiers in Desanto's army organized a new attempt. On the anniversary of Desanto's death, just a year after Esperanca had been abandoned, a new expedition led by Juan Ramirez began. Ramirez would prove to be more capable than Desanto, overcoming the obstacles that had prevented earlier Iberian establishment.

Ramirez sent an envoy to the goblins, seeing them as the physically weaker of the two--and thus, the one more likely to accept his aid, and the one, he believed, would not stand much of a chance against the Iberians, after the orcs were dealt with. The goblins accepted his proposition, and limited trade between the two cultures began, the Iberians supplying the goblins with weapons and armor against their rivals. Trade was conducted through a trading post, which the goblins allowed to be built in their territory, 1 mile from the border, along the coast. Vinganca soon became a military installation, and Ramirez's intents of domination were made clear.

Ramirez ran the colony on a tight leash, employing capable, devoted men under him. Instead of greedily seizing the spoils of their conquests for their own wallets, Ramirez and his subordinates dutifully sent the hard-won resources back to the crown (minus a small fee, of course).

These voyages were (and are) conducted by the royal fleet, which possesses the capability to defend itself against pirates far better than the ships of private investors.

Ramirez died in battle, and his lieutenant, Velas'qez, succeeded his command. Velas'qez is determined to defeat and enslave the orcs, while others in the colony (notably, the clergy) are more concerned with conversion.

The Players:

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{table=head]Player|Character|Race|Class|Role
Darwin|

Steelheart

|

Warforged

|

Incarnate

|

?

|
HempRope|

Ranier Vaspez

|

Human

|

Fighter

|

Melee

|
Lyndworm|

Orgnal Windblessed

|

Air Goblin

|

Conjurer

|

Conjurer

|
Senrath|

Thurstan Weaver

|

Human

|

Crusader

|

Melee

|
Maeglin_Dubh|

Tlaloc Tuskhunter

|

Human

|

Scout

|

Ranged

|[/table]

on hold

[HempRope]

Ranier

As Ranier watches three vastly different figures approach, he casts a worried glance toward Velas'quez.

"These are the men you've selected for me?"

The commander's nod and grin are not reassuring.

What have you gotten me into?! What have I gotten myself into?

After the quick briefing (suppose there's a reason it's called a 'brief') Ranier introduces himself.

"I'm Sergeant Vaspez. Welcome to Gaunche," he begins.

"Welcome. It will be good to have you with us, I hope," he says to Orgnal in clear Goblin, though mainland Goblin, not having picked up the distinct Gaunchian accent.

"It's good to have you all on board. I hope you'll be an asset to the Iberian forces here. I've been here for more than a year, so if you have any questions about how we do things, be sure to ask me. I'm sure I'll get to know you well, but to start, introduce yourselves and tell me what you do."

[Lyndworm]

The goblin looks around at the others before stamping his staff into the ground. Taking a small step forward, the little savage maintains direct eye contact throughout his introduction. In heavily accented, but perfectly clear, Common he says "I am Orgnal Windblessed, protector of the Norgala Tribe, vassal of Kurophamis, son of my father, and father of my son. I have a variety of what you would call "Arcane" talents. My family is aided by spirits from another world, and I am no exception. I am also a passable translator. Beyond that, I know this land, and I know the Orcs. Even I must admit, however, that their habits are most strange indeed as of late." The one called Orgnal takes a step back and stamps his staff into the ground once more.

[Darwin]

As the goblin steps forward Steelheart moves a massive leg, nearly the size of the goblin itself to make room. Without stepping forward he opens his mouth, a faint metallic churning can be heard behind his voice.

Your superiors have identified my name as Steelheart, commander. The forgotten power of my lost creators are in your service for as long as our enemy is the same.

His jaw seems to move a little out of sync with his voice, and the churning noice fades once he closes his mouth again.

[Maeglin_Dubh]

Tlaloc stood at the back of the crowd, slowly twirling what looked like a crooked stick. His armor left his arms bare, and ended at the knee in a panelled warskirt. His right arm was decorated with several stylized orc skulls.

"This one is called Tuskhunter, officer. And he kills orcs."

[esorscher]

Velas'qez shifts his feet impatiently, looking around. "Well, it seems you are all well-suited for the task, as I'd hoped. I'm sure you'll get along just fine. Remember--you've got to keep this under wraps. Thus, our meeting place. This small meadow is too small to be a lot under our charter, and these four tents are as yet unoccuppied." He gestures to the tents around the meadow, all of whose entrances face this plot of land. "I've arranged for you to have access to these tents while you're in the colony. I've supplied you each with a week's rations. Now, since you aren't official soldiers, you won't be paid like them. But, since you aren't official soldiers, you aren't required to turn over the spoils you win in combat to the crown."

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Everyone gets a 10x10 tent that has to stay in camp, which can be locked (but you need your own lock), and a week's rations (that you can take with you as necessary).

"I can't stress this enough--don't let anyone know what you're really doing here."

With that, he departs, leaving you in the capable hands of the Sergeant.

[HempRope]

Ranier

"Lovely," says the sergeant, clapping his hands together. "Welcome to your new homes.

"I bet you're hungry. Let's get a fire going, and then you can actually tell me about yourselves. Only... Organ, is it? Gave the me slightest hint of what he brings to the squad, and I want to know a lot more about all of you.

"You, Tuskhunter, you can get a fire going? Start a little blaze, and Steelheart, there's a woodstock just behind that large tent there, fetch some... no, wait, I suppose you'd better stay here."

Ranier surveys his charges, wondering which of them can get him some wood. None of them.

I thought I'd be done with this when I got promoted. Ah, well.

"All right, I'll get some wood, the rest of you wait here. I'll be back in a quarter hour. And get that fire going."

So the sergeant goes to fetch wood, leaving the three newcomers on their own for a moment.

[Darwin]

Steelheart sees off the Sergeant with a slightly depressed look. He sits down at the spot where he stood with a melancholic humming sound and turns his head back to the party.

"I envy you humans and your ability to make small celebrations of the consumption of nutrients. I cannot understand or share your joy of eating.

He casts a glance after the Sergeant and procudes another humming sound before turning his eyes to the ground.

[Maeglin_Dubh]

Tlaloc chuckles under his breath as the sergeant wanders off to look for wood.
"Officer thinks Tuskhunter is magic, perhaps. Thinks he can make fire without wood. Next he will want water from stones and food from the sky."

[HempRope]

No chatting while the commander is away?

Ranier

Ranier returns and dumps a pile of logs on the ground in the middle of the tents. There look to be enough for a small fire to last half way through the night.

"Didn't even touch flint to steel while I was away?" he asks, scowling.

[Darwin]

"Complications Sergeant, you left us no tools for the purposes of starting a fire."

[HempRope]

Ranier

"Not one of you has a flint?!"

[Lyndworm]

"I do, sir. However, I was too awestruck by your radiant superiority to take initiative in helping the 'Uman." The little goblin sneers out a quip. "Would you like me to do so now, O Master of Flames?" He appears quite amused with himself.

[Maeglin_Dubh]

"Besides, Impiyur, there is nothing here to burn but fields and tents. This one did not think the Impiyur officer would enjoy seeing his lands aflame."

[HempRope]

Ranier

Ranier furrows his big narrow eyebrows angrily and opens his mouth, but perhaps thinks better of whatever he had originally intended to say.

"You -- I hope you're a little more resourceful in the future. I'm going to pray the Apex. Now that there's wood, do you forsee any more problems?"

He pauses for a moment, waiting for questions. If none are forthcoming, he goes around to the other side of his tent, one hand fishing down the top of his shirt.

[Lyndworm]

The Goblin gives a merry little smile as he says "No, that should about cover it, sir." He goes to start a fire, as instructed.

[HempRope]

Ranier

After ten minutes, Ranier returns smiling, hopefully to at least some flames and smoke.

"Before I forget," he begins, "We need to leave in the morning, before too many people are up to see us going. I'd say an hour before dawn."

Taking a seat in the open space in between the tents, he continues, "I'd like to know more about what your abilities are. Me, I'm a soldier, went to military school and spent a few years in the guard before coming over here, but I'm not the type to keep my feet planted in one place during an entire fight. Like to keep the enemy off-balance a little. I hope we'll work well together that way. I'm not much of a scout, though, or anything like that.

"What about you all? What can I count on you for, expect from you?"

[Lyndworm]

Having started the fire, Orgnal sits beside it, staring into it's depths. "As I said before, I'm an Arcanist. I summon creatures to my aid, and conjure various other forces to my will as well. It's obvious that one such as I is quite frail, so I'm best kept away from direct combat. At a comfortable distance is where I perform best." He looks away from the fire, into Raniers eyes, as he waits for another response.

[HempRope]

Ranier

"Most of your magics are for combat, then?" Ranier prods Orgnal. "Are you skilled in stealth, or anything of that like?"

[Lyndworm]

"Yes, combat mostly. Offensive and defensive, bu combat nonetheless, my friend. My magics are not stealthy, though I myself am passable, I suppose. You have to be, when you live out here your whole life. Outside of combat, I speak eight languages, some of which you've most likely never heard. I'm also generally knowledgeable on most facts about the island."

[Darwin]

Steelheart rises to his full height. Although it's hardly neccessary with a height of more than 2 full meters he makes a metallic sounding cough to attract the crowd's attention.

His eyes begins to shine with brilliant shade of blue, and suddenly a blurry outline of a mighty brazen golem appears around him. His eyes quickly fade again, as does the shadow.

"My masters shaped me in the image of the Invevitables Sergeant. I wield power of outerplanar origin named Incarnum by my creators. I retain merely a fraction of what was originally given to me of this power after my centuries of sleep under the mountain's stone blanket."

[HempRope]

Ranier

Ranier looks questioningly at Steelheart as he stands, and his eyes widen in surprise as the metal man projects the image of a golem about him. But when nothing more happens, he frowns a little.

"Yes," Ranier says slowly, speaking slowly and emphasizing each syllable, "But what can you do?"

[Maeglin_Dubh]

Tlaloc chuckles at the sergeant's incredulity. "It is obvious to this one, Impiyur, what the man of metal does. He makes pictures that move. Did not the great one tell you? We are to distract the Yrch with a cunning display of light and sound while your Impiyur metal-men attack. Tuskhunter was brought here for his lovely singing voice."

[Darwin]

Steelheart waits for Tuskhunter to finish before continuing his speech.

"I am a tool of war sergeant. A warrior built to serve any purpose on the battlefield. My main purpose is that of frontline warfare but with preparation can I serve nearly any strategic role should the need arise"

He hesitates a second as he looks as Tuskhunter.

"Will you allow me a question sergeant?"

[HempRope]

Ranier

"I'm sure," Ranier says flatly to Tuskhunter.

"Go ahead, you don't need permission to ask questions," he replies to Steelheart. "I'm not the King, and four minds are better than one."

Er... does he -- it? -- have a mind?

[Darwin]

Steelheart takes another emotion-ridden glance at Tuskhunter.

"What purpose does this man's singing voice has against the orcs? I am unfamiliar with this kind of tactic sir."

[HempRope]

Ranier

The sergeant lets out a snort of laughter and has to stick out a hand to keep himself from toppling forward into the campfire.

"Ah, yes," he says, covering his grin with a serious expression. "Tuskhunter, please explain what you bring to the ensemble. Are you a soprano, I assume?"

[Maeglin_Dubh]

"The Impiyur brings Tuskhunter here because he knows things. What to eat, where to sleep, how to hide. They bring him here because they want this island, and the need to remove yrch and kulyrch to keep it. Tuskhunter can throw his spear farther than most men shoot arrows, but he usually doesn't. Harder to get them back that way. And Tuskhunter likes to get his spears back. He puts gifts on them, you see. Plant juice. Animal blood. Things that make the yrch fall faster.'

[esorscher]

The night continues, and you swap stories of glory and battle around the fireplace until you turn in and fall asleep. Just before dawn, Ranier wakes, and the party sets off from the town, making its way out under the cover of darkness.

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(1d100)[53]

The air is warm, thick with moisture, but there are few clouds in the sky--it doesn't look like rain. The jungle is thick, the trees are tall, and it is difficult to see in the dark. Soon, however, the sun rises, illuminating the droplets of moisture suspended in the air through the trees. About a mile out from the colony, you get the sense that you are not alone in the woods.

[Spot Checks, Listen Checks, and determine marching order.]

[Darwin]

Steelheart

Listen check: (1d20-2)[18]
Spot check: (1d20-2)[10]