Kingmaker Adventure Path

29th of Pharast

I returned to Oleg’s alone and no worse than before. I bore gifts for those who lost belongings along our travel. I tried to return the Dark One’s clothes and he accused me of theft. Before I could claim innocence, he drew blade. I have seen this before. He cares not my speech and wished for my blood as atonement. I dropped his garb and drew my blades as well. His words fell on deaf ears as he swung. One blade stung and the other flew wide. His Witch muttered a few words in her tongue and I felt my defenses weaken. I swung back with hardy blow and the Dark One fell. The Witch stretched out her hand towards me and flames sprung forth at me. I made quick and the fires did little more than singe. I stepped back and sheathed my blades. My fight was not with the Witch and the Dark One lay fallen. Katara climbed the table and stretched a hand towards the Dark One. Maybe she wished to know if he lived. Matters not to me as his intent for my death was clear. The Dark One rose again, blades in hand. I drew my axes in reply. He accused me yet again and I put my tomahawk away to pull out Katara’s hairpins. She claimed that they were lost long before we arrived and I offered to be placed in irons to help ease present tensions. The Dark One asked to be placed in irons as well until the truth could be revealed.

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27th of Pharast

Exploring has led us to a shallow part in the river and we cross over. Before us was a destroyed barrier of sorts. Three bodies laid next to one another, each missing its head. Rocks were placed where their heads should be. I heard the laughing of children as a mass of tangled vines rose before us. The one called Katara shrieked and yelled “ That’s it… the thing that killed my friends.” She ran followed by the Witch and the Dark One.

As I stood there, the mound did not move. A trick maybe? I did not know so I tempted fate and threw coin before me and offered my remedy that a creature might show itself. A small, butterfly-winged dragon appeared and swept up the coins. A cat-sized fey with the upper body of a waifish humanoid and the lower body of a cricket requested the tonic.

The shiny-eyed dragon flew up making elaborate loops and whirls and announced his name to be Pervilash. The cricket=woman named herself Tyg-Titter-Tug. They did not agree with my name and decided to call me “Mr. Biggunse.” I speak the tongue of fey folk and talked long with them in their words. They admitted to taking things from the people I am with and wished to return it to me in reward for being such “great sports.” I followed them to their nest. It is the large nest we found near a week past. They bid me rest under the safety of their home and returned the Dark One’s clothing and ivory hair pins they say belongs to the pretty girl in our care.

They announced that they witnessed the death of Katara’s friends and were responsible for conducting a “biggense fumeral,” as the stones were left as evidence to. They seem kind enough. I will rest here for the night and follow the others to Oleg’s in the morn.

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26th of Pharast

We find a spring feeding the river that has blocked much of our path. It flows fresh and free. It is a good source of clean water and we filled our skins. The trek led us to a man that had long-since died under a pile of heavy logs. It seems to have been a trap of sorts and the rope holding it had been cut. A well-made axe remained in the tree. Who is this and who cut the rope. Breeg was to be hunting humans. Maybe this is his doing. No time for mourning or misspent prayers. I removed the axe and we turned South.

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25th of Pharast

A boar is spotted in the woods. The Dark One tells the Witch to make him big so that he may kill the animal. The Witch mutters a few words in a foul tongue and the Dark One is instantly nearly twice my size and his heavy gait moves quicker than before. The boar attempted to flee, but the Dark One routed it. By time I could aid, the boar lay dead at Dark One’s feet. He showed skill with a knife and provided food for a few days.

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24th of Pharast

Jhod awoke in a great sweat. He was visited by visions in his sleep. Trees branch out in great antlers and a dark spirit resides in a holy place. He asks that we cleanse the evil from this sacred ground. I will accomplish this for him even if none are with me. We set out once more.

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22nd of Pharast

Two days of exploring and all we have found is a large nest high in a tree. It appears large enough for an eagle, but I have seen none such birds. A thorn-cloaked river blocks our way forward. The Dark One strips and leaps the thorns and dives into the river. Moments later, the clothes of the drunkard where gone. There are forces here beyond our knowing. We should keep a close eye on our surroundings.

We move up the river and the Witch springs a bear trap with her leg. The thing is clamped tight. I lift the Witch and place her in the pirate’s cart. I wonder why he drags that thing everywhere. He even charges for its use. A coin for everything the man does. He honors nothing he cannot charge a price for. A man that worships coin loses his shirt. Fitting! The Dark One, the young beauty, and I spend the day setting the traps. I take three. They may be of use if time is right. We are took make for Oleg’s come day break.

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20th of Pharast

Four days and the merchants continue west. Our goal lies a few miles to the south. Here – far too close to Numeria – we part ways. This merchant’s fort seems well guarded and these armed make me uneasy. A Dark and brooding man with unruly hair and beard announces himself as Kesten Garess. My eye does not leave him as he resumes his duties. These men are not dressed as those that killed my people. Maybe they are more honest than those of my homeland. Time will reveal more to me.

Owners Oleg and Svetlana Leveton introduce themselves. Times must be hard on the frontier. Oleg is gruff of speech and comes across as uncaring and cold. Svetlana’s beauty is hidden behind dirt and grime. She is quiet, but strong of spirit.

A young woman helps Svetlana with the serving of meals. Surely this is no place to raise young without a larger family. Quiet and sweet like Svetlana, the young beauty reveals herself to be Katara, an adventurer who lost her friends to a terrible creature some ten days back. She caught me staring, but she simply smiled and continued to help serve.

I sat with an elderly man with balding brown hair. His garbs were of a simple brown cloth. The kind old man is Jhod Kavken, a traveling cleric of the Patient Hunter. He tells me of a trapper that has become crazed and may have joined with bandits. I take note; we will see this wayward soul set straight. We only just arrived when the Dark One starts shouting for a strong drink. The Witch sits with him, but remains quiet.

Rest is much needed.

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16th of Pharast

Here begins the account of Warpath.

At long last, our journey begins; though the road the caravan takes is the road I traveled to Restov. I look to distance myself from my homeland, not return to it. I will ride a bit further and if course does not change, I will lose myself in the south.

The ride is not quiet. A deaf ogre could make us a mile away. There is a vulgar fellow, garbed in dyed cloth and coat with a feathered hat, calling himself Darkie. His breathe stinks of ale and he is loose of tongue. He has made me known as to where he travels. He talks much, but he says little. What troubles me is his companion. She is attractive, and dresses much like the tribes, but her tongue stays sealed behind her lips. The loud and dark one calls her Iolana and the she whispers to a cat.

My past is unclean and I hold my judgment of these two until time shows the path clear.

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Pharast 10, 4710

It’s early. The sun hasn’t even risen yet. Oleg and I had just settled down for a night of rest, when we heard commotion out in the courtyard. We awoke and went out to find that girl from the adventuring party breathless, drenched in sweat, and weeping. The poor thing. She seemed hysterical. We brought her near the fire, wrapped her in a blanket and gave her some water. After a while, she managed to tell us what had happened.

She and her party were adventuring along the Thorn River. They returned to that dreaded lady’s bandit camp to rest for the night before returning to us the next day. As they were tying up their horses, something came out of the forest. The elf had barely screamed a warning before the beast ripped into him. The soldier used his strange weapon to blast a hole in the creature, but then he too fell. The holy man then sacrificed himself so she could escape.

The poor dear. She ran all night. So many miles. She’s exhausted. We’ve managed to lay her down to sleep. Jhod and I will watch her during the night and care for her wounds, both physical and emotional. Kesten has doubled the watch along the palisade facing the Narlmarches. We are all praying that the beast does not follow her to our post. I believe Erastil will protect us.

But this poor girl. She has seen much. The wilderness is a dangerous place and now I’m not sure I will be able to sleep through the night. They were such kind people, those adventurers. I pray they find a peaceful rest wherever they go to after this life.

I wish I was back in Restov. There was never worry of man-eating plants there.

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Pharast 9, 4710

The night’s discussion resulted in us exploring the area beyond the bridge. Having charted well any path leading away, we returned to our horses. We must be off to Oleg’s as supplies are running low. We came across the old bandit encampment and I suggested spending the night here. I had plenty of rations to share for one more day.

Abijah, Katara, and I entered the abandoned fort, while Kaltegan waited at the gate, his gaze unmoving as we entered.

Stabled the horses and unrolled my pack for the night.

Kaltegan is screaming. A monster in the forest. Cornered.

No way out but to fight.

Here ends the account of Xavier DeClie.

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