AA's Kingmaker Part I: The Stolen Lands

[RocketMan]

Ilya laughs mirthfully at Tireas's retort. "Oh, indeed," he says when he finishes, feigning gravitas. "I am the master of courtship. Allow me to enlighten you on the secret, Tireas Slate, so that you too may have my unbridled success where the fairer sex are concerned. Tis the size of your inheritance that matters, my friend," the young man says, eyes full of cheer and a smirk playing across his lips. "If, like myself, you are of an ancient and noble lineage, you are well on your way to attracting all manner of well-wishers. All the better if your house's recent exploits include seizure of a throne. So I take no credit," Ilya says, "for any success I am told I have had."

"But I applaud you, Tireas. Either you are well versed in the politics of Brevoy, or else royal gossip spreads much faster than we secluded souls in the palace like to believe."

[Blisstake]

"Mm, I'm sure a demon with a crown and scepter is so much more approachable than just any old demon," the tiefling says after a bit of giggling when Ilya mentions inheritance size.

"But yes, I do know something about politics. It's always helpful to know who not to get on your bad side. And who is of most use to befriend. And which side of the plate the salad fork goes on."

[FireberdGNOME]

Katerina frowns with Zinovia's tirade. It is unwise to mock the Gods, even if you disagree with their actions. She is obviously relieved as Tireas and Ilya lighten the mood, the talk of 'well wishers' and 'endowments' remind her of her brothers and their own bragging. Her small laughter lights her eyes and makes them shine in the campfire.

To Viktor she replies, "My position with the Sworldlords? mmm... One might say I am an apprentice. I am learning all I can of the Steel, and one day, if fortune smiles, I will become a Swordlord in my own right. But, as you know each Swordlord has to earn that right through action." With a grin she finishes, "So here I am!"

[Winterfell]

"You have picked a good place to gain experience," Viktor says, nodding as Katerina finishes speaking. "I hope that you will in time earn your place among the Swordlords," he concludes simply. Not the most noble motivation, but far from the worst, the paladin thinks, glowering at Zinovia. His frown deepens as Ilya makes his quip, followed by laughter from Katerina and Tireas. "You should take this more seriously," he says sternly to the prince. "It is a problem that should not be taken lightly." He frowns again, his chastisement finished, and returns to sharpening his blade.

[???]

Grigori looks rather unimpressed with Ilya and Tireas while they converse. He shifts his shoulders uncomfortably. "Abadar knows, marriage is indeed not to be taken lightly," he says, agreeing with Viktor and trying to move the conversation away from its innuendos. "But what is the problem, exactly? Ilya is fleeing a marriage arrangement he has not found suitable? You cannot run from such things endlessly. Are matters truly so bad that you must live our your days where no civilization at all will follow?"

[Leviathan]

Zinovia's eyes flicker to Ilya as Grigori asks about Ilya's predicament. I wonder, what will the lost prince say to our new companions.

She replies to Katerina with a nod. "It is always wise to seek out power, and the Swordlords doubtlessly offer that, in a crude way. But I did not know they took those so young, even as apprentices." She sniffs. "I suppose even swordsmen must begin by training children."

[RocketMan]

"No," Ilya sighs. "No, you're quite right, Viktor. But I simply refuse to let my father's domineering nature make me miserable, and you should too," he says. He listens to Grigori with an expression of benign amusement on his face. "You're correct, essentially," the young man replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchallantly. "It wasn't suitable, not at all, so I refused. I shan't be dictated to, even if my father is the king. Unfortunately, it is particularly difficult to persuade a man with legions of soldiers at his beck and call that he cannot dictate. So, here I am," he says, smiling wryly. "Out here in the woods. Ah well, at least I have fine company!"

[Blisstake]

"It's difficult to persuade a man of high standing with words. Sometimes it takes blood, and a lot of it." Tireas says, recalling their previous engagement with Noleski Surtova's men. "But that's a price I suppose you'll have to pay if you want to stay on the fun. We've already made an advance on it, in fact."

[???]

Grigori looks shocked and confused, his brow furrowing. Then he realizes what Ilya means. "Your Highness," he says formally, inclining his head respectfully. A thought dawns on the priest quickly and he frowns again. "I am concerned," he says, "that the Swordlords will not take the discovery that the Prince of House Surtova has infiltrated their expedition well." He gives a little discontented grimace, shifting nervously, not liking the implications of it all. "The politics of earthly affairs is not my chief concern, but to say it plainly, I fear that Restov may see Ilya's presence here as undermining their own ambitions for the region."

[RocketMan]

"Oh, don't go all formal on me now," Ilya says, laughing at Grigori's new properness. "I'm not particularly concerned by the Swordlords," he continues, waving his hand as if shooing away an irksome fly. "If they're not happy that I helped to do their work for them, they can come here an clear out the wilderness themselves. And my own disavowal of my House is most likely already known to them, the gossip has already reached less noble ears."

[FireberdGNOME]

Katerina frowns as the conversation becomes very serious. She listens to Grigori, and especially Ilya. When the prince-revealed finishes speaking, she says quietly, "You are right, Ilya. It seems to me that I may have been sent to aid you as an excuse to keep an eye on you." She bites her lip, but continues. "You are also right, the Swordlords have much to thank you for, as do I, for your work here in the stolen lands."

[ApatheticAbacus]

13 Desnus, 4708

The night of conversation has passed, and in its place rises a bright spring sun. Your travels take you eastward. You meet the Thorne River as it flows across the plains, and follow its progress until it forks with the Shrike River, their combined waters fast-flowing as they cut a course south towards the lake known as the Tuskwater. At the fork, you find a sturdy old pair of bridges spanning both of the rivers, each constructed from rough-hewn stone, grown mossy with the progress of time. The ruined foundation of a building – a watchtower or -post, perhaps – lies nearby, the last remains of some past attempt at colonization.

14 Desnus, 4708

It is a revelation that dawns on you with the next bright day that your Charter is almost at an end. You have traversed the entirety of the northern Greenbelt, mapping it quite thoroughly. Looking at your maps, you also recall the kobold you rescued from the mites' lair, Mikmak; his tribe apparently lives in this region.

The area is rocky and hilly, with sparse grass, and sheer-cut sandstone cliffs forming a natural maze of sorts. Despite the confusing terrain, at noon, you see an outcropping of large boulders emerging from the face of a nearby hillock. A narrow crack in the rocks, barely wide enough for a human to squeeze through, leads into darkness. A fallen sign leans against the cave entrance; it reads 'Oaktop Silver Mine,' written in Taldan. Around the entrance, brambles, stakes, and an assortment of broken-down junk form a defensive perimeter. And behind it, a half-dozen black-scaled kobolds point their sharp little claws and jabber at each other.

Draconic

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"Pinkskins come! What they do here?"

"Maybe same as Mikmak find. He say there 'five or six..."

One of the kobolds peeks up from behind the barricade, wearing a too-big, round leather helmet that shifts precipitously on his brow as he raises his head. "Erm, me Nakpik. Common not so good. No want fight. This Sootscale home. You friend?"

[Winterfell]

"We should be warry," Viktor says to the party as they approach the place where Mikmak indicated the kobold lair was located. "Mikmak may have been friendly, but that does not mean that his kin will share his disposition. Kobolds are renowned for treachery and cowardice." The paladin dismounts and draws his sword to be sure. He approaches the barricade cautiously, sword at the ready.

"We are friends to all who do not threaten the innocent or imperil civilization," he answers harshly. "If you are not among these numbers, we may be friends." The man sounds like he doubts it however.

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Detect Evil.

[Blisstake]

Tireas chuckles as Viktor inroduces the group. "You might want to use smaller words, friend."

Turning to the small reptilian creatures, the tiefling says, "We're nice. Friends with Mikmak."

[RocketMan]

"I see our reputation precedes us," Ilya says, looking bemused by the kobolds. "Yes, we're friends," he says, nodding as Tireas speaks. "I suppose now that we'll see what saving a F-A-L-S-E god is worth," he smirks, spelling out the word in case the kobolds are brighter than they seem.

[Leviathan]

Zinovia sighs. "More insignificant creatures," she mutters under her breath as the kobolds natter on. "Do you have a chieftain," she cuts in sharply in crisp draconic syllables. "We wish to speak to the kobold in command."

[FireberdGNOME]

Taken aback by the little dragon-men being civil, Katerina moves a step closer to Viktor. She whispers, "Friends of the kobold you saved?" Katerina makes no aggressive move but does not drop her guard. These creatures are not to trusted

[ApatheticAbacus]

The kobold, Nakpik, seems absolutely baffled by Viktor. "Uh, you use big words, you smart like shaman. Big pink shaman."

"Also think he angry like shaman Tartuk," one of the other kobolds mutters.

"Pinkskins very strange," Nakpik says with a sage nod of his scaly little head. "But good pinkskins, friends of Sootscale! Welcome!"

They jump when Zinovia speaks in their language, though their own version is a pidgin dialect far removed from true draconic. "Yes, we take you to Chief Sootscale right away! Come!" Nakpik darts off into the tunnel entrance. No sooner has he done so then he pops right back out. "Uh, wait a second..."[/COLOR] He vanishes again, and this time there is a clanking, clattering noise. His head appears again from around the corner, the kobold like a strange jack-in-the-box. "This way now. Traps disabled. Safe now. Come!"

The Sootscale cavern is small and cramped, though your foray into the mites lair weeks ago gives you a new appreciation for the relatively high ceilings and occasional 'skylight' (in reality just holes dug through the earth of the cave's roof).

The cavern is smokey, granite and dry clay combined in its walls, with a network of side passages running off from the main one. Kobold faces peer out from these as Nakpik and the other kobold guards escort you past.

They take you to a large central chamber, a wide circular space in which many fires burn on torches and fire-pits. Around these, furs and assorted 'treasures' have been gathered into beds and tables that lie scattered through the space. In the center, a large hole has been dug in the cave's ceiling, letting a beam of sunlight shine down, forming a crude sort of natural spotlight on the Sootscale throne: what seems to be half a bench fabric-covered, perhaps from a broken-down carriage, which has been placed atop a pile of chests, crates, and other boxes to give it height.

On the throne sits a black-scaled kobold with glittering snakelike eyes that seem to blink only infrequently. An elaborate headdress of bone and feathers covers the back of his head like a frill, and he has a bone club carved with patterns in one hand.

"You stand before Chief of the Sootscales," he says, his Common less broken than that of the others, "you have been friend to the Sootscales. Now we wish to know what you want."

As he speaks, another kobold enters the throne room. He has dulled purple scales, his body ritually painted and draped with hides. He says nothing but watches the Chief, who casts him a sideways look.

Viktor

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About half of the kobolds are mildly evil, including Chief Sootscale and the purple-scaled kobold.

[???]

Grigori follows Nakpik, a look of consternation on his face.What ought we to make of these strange creatures. I have often heard it said that they are vile and uncivilized, but I will not assume this until I have seen it for myself.

He bows before Chief Sootscale, but the gesture is polite, a bow to an equal, not grovelling. "Blessings of Abadar upon you, Chief. We have come with a duty to tame these lands so that they might be made fit for habitation." He picks his words carefully. "We do not wish to be your enemy, Chief, and so I would ask your friendship. But friendship is only possible where we share the same goal. I would ask then what we might do to allow the Sootscale to share our goals?"

[Leviathan]

I am not eager to be this kobold upstart's errant-girl, Zinovia thinks with a scowl. She doesn't say anything, but does glare at Chief Sootscale, as if to say "anything too menial and you get roasted."

[Winterfell]

Viktor stands stiffly before the kobold chieftain, arms crossed over his broad chest but still clearly tensed and ready for a sudden attack. He listens to Gregori speaking, and nods tersely as he finishes. "We demand that your clan immediately cease any and all hostilities with settlers and travellers in these lands. By the power vested in us by the Swordlords of Restov and the Dragonscale Throne of Brevoy, you will agree to these terms." He lets the demand linger for a moment as he stares at the lizardman, stormy eyes serious. "I have no wish to do so, but if you will not abide by the legitimate and godly laws that we bring to this land, then we will destroy you."

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Intimidate? (1d20+3)[21]

Also I think you forgot about detect evil in the last post. Viktor will also use it on the kobold chief.

[ApatheticAbacus]

Chief Sootscale grins wickedly, showing his pointed needle teeth, his green eyes flickering across the room. "You want to be friends of Sootscale, good. Sootscales will follow Chief, and Chief will follow your laws. But first you must help me. Show that you are mighty and worthy of Sootscales." He stands from his throne, his bone scepter pointing at the purple-scaled, painted kobold. "You killed mites, foes of Sootscales. Now kill foe of Chief Sootscale. Kill Shaman Tartuk, and then we can be friends."

At once, uproar fills the cavern, kobolds shrieking and howling. The purple-scaled kobold, Tartuk, is raising aloft a golden idol, which you recognize as the horned devil statue taken from the mites' lair.

Tartuk's raspy voice manages to be eminent and loud over the din. "Old Sharptooth strikes down the traitors! Strike them down! Kill the traitor-chief!"

Many of the numerous kobolds in the cavern flock to the shaman, brandishing spears, clubs, and daggers, yowling war cries and hissing. On the other side of the cavern, the Chief's supporters have similarly armed themselves, Chief Sootscale jabbing a claw at Tartuk. "Kill him! Outsiders, kill him and we are allies!"

Tartuk rasps right back. "I will be ally too. Kill the traitor-chief and I will obey all laws you like."

With the kobolds roaring at each other across the central cavern, it looks as though, if you don't act, you're going to be caught in the middle of the Sootscale Civil War.

[Leviathan]

Zinovia lets out a high-pitched, mirthful laugh at the change that has come over the kobolds. "Stupid creatures," she mutters. "They wish us to choose a side, it seems. I say, let us choose whichever will be of more use to us. The shaman has been cunning enough to fool his flock, for I find it doubtful that he could believe some old statue grants him his powers, and so he seems the better choice." She shrugs. "Of course, were we to stand back as the creatures slaughter each other, it would solve the problem without getting blood on our hands."

[RocketMan]

"What?" Ilya squawks incredulously after Zinovia speaks. "No, we've got to stop them from fighting each other. Look at the poor creatures," the young man say, looking with sympathy at the rapidly army kobolds. "They'll wipe each other out if we don't help." But the bard takes no action, and looks unsure of how to proceed. "Er - does anyone know a way to stop a kobold massacre before it happens?"

[Blisstake]

"I have an idea," Tireas answers Ilya while pointing his blade at the kobolds. "We kill one and make friends with the others. Funny enough the violent solution ends with the least amount of deaths."

The tiefling frowns as he looks at the chief and the shaman trying to gather followers. "The question is, which one do you want dead?"

[Winterfell]

"The shaman, Tartuk, has impersonated a god and led his tribe to believe that their failure to obey will lead to their deaths," Viktor says, frowning after Zinovia speaks. "Such crimes are clearly worthy of death - I say we deliver the rightful punishment immediately." He pauses, looking at Chief Sootscale, with narrow eyes. "The Chieftain is likewise evil, but for now he remains the lesser of the two. If he breaches this contract which he proposes, we shall return and slay him."

[FireberdGNOME]

Katerina nods to Viktor and steps forward and draws her sword in one seamless motion. "Tartuk! Be warned-today you and your followers will beathe your last!" As she speaks she stances, the blade of her sword in a two handed grip. With the completion of her dire words she flourishes the blade and steps through her attack forms, cleaving imaginary foes. Her eyes never leave Tartuks as she demonstrates how he will be cut down.

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Dazzling Display! [roll0]

[FireberdGNOME]

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Apparently you cannot preview a post with [ roll ] (d20)[2]

[???]

Grigori speaks with a quiet passion. "It is often said that politics is a bargain between beggars, Viktor," he says, addressing the paladin directly. "But compromise between good and evil is never possible. Our God's work does not blend with malice, or greed. If our moral mortar is corrupt, then the walls of our church will crumble, and the roof will fall, and we, and every soul who worships with us, will be crushed." He says earnestly. "To ally with either of these kobolds is to make assassins of ourselves. I will not believe that the will of the the tribe is that one half should slaughter the other with our aid at the whim of a despot. We must seek the higher path." He sighs.

Grigori steps into the middle of the cave, holding out his hands between the warring factions. "Stop!" he calls. "Cease this! You will not help your tribe by destroying it beyond hope of repair! Put aside your arms!"

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Diplomacy (1d20+8)[15]

[ApatheticAbacus]

Grigori rushes into the center of the cave. Some of the kobolds skitter back from him, but his words have little effect. Most of them don't even speak Common, it seems. Chief Sootscale hisses. "Do not interfere, human! Fight on my side or leave! You not understand our ways."

Tartuk's raspy voice counters. "My followers fight and die for me, I am the better ally!" He glares down Katerina. "They kill you if you threaten me again."

"I kill you now!" Chief Sootscale roars, jabbing a claw at Tartuk from across the cavern. "Sootscales, ATTACK!"

"Old Sharptooth will make all your scales fall off if you don't kill Chief!" Tartuk croaks.

The cavern roils with clamouring kobolds as they jump into action, grabbing up crude warclubs and feathered spears. They cry as one as they launch themselves toward the opposing faction, if indeed any discernible factions exist. They meet in a frenzy of arms, claws, and fangs. Kobolds crash into each other, smashing with their weapons at their enemies. In an instant, the entire cave is chaos.

Round 1?

Map

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Ks are kobolds: it's impossible to tell who's on which side.
CK are the chief's kobolds.
TK are Tartuk's kobolds.
CS is Chief Sootscale.
ST is Shaman Tartuk.