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Old 09-21-2015, 10:25 AM   #1
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Default Dr. Randall E Wainwright: A Peculiar Man with an Unslakable Thirst for Knowledge

Hello all! I think that Kingmaker is an exciting adventure path that truly captures everything great that table-top gaming once was and again could be.

To that end, and as a bit of an experiment in role palying in general, I am running this adventure path using GURPS, with my younger brother as my only player, trying to make the Kingmaker game a sort of dark/comical/surrealist experience with the aim of making a particularly unique and unforgettable story.

We played the first session last night and my brother is compiling a journal of the main character's first adventure. In the meanwhile I will provide you with his backstory in the next post. My intent for this thread is to provide Dr. Wainwright's (the PC's) journals inter-spaced with my own commentary and responses to any questions my audience may have. I hope you all enjoy the adventure. I am already.
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Old 09-21-2015, 10:26 AM   #2
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Default Re: Dr. Randall E Wainwright: A Peculiar Man with an Unslakable Thirst for Knowledge

Dr. Randall Eugene Wainright - The Backstory of Our Star:

Thomas and Claire Wainwright were a middle-class couple living in the urban section of the town of Silverhall. The couple worked as craftsmen and carpenters, but mainly as carriage-makers. After an especially lucrative military contract, the two decided to raise a child. Thus was born, our hero, Randall Wainwright. From a young age it became apparent that Randall possessed a towering intellect. To his parents’ amazement, Randall was speaking in full sentences before his first birthday. Before he even went to school, he was able to read signs of important places and stores around the city. He loved to play with the components of the carriages while his father worked. Thomas used to joke to his wife that maybe 4 year old Randall knew how to put together a carriage. He was probably right.

Randall was the pride and joy of his family for the early part of his life. When he went to school, however, things started to change. At first, Randall loved school and loved telling his parents what he learned each day. He showed enthusiasm and a great willingness to learn. By the time he was 8, it became clear that school bored Randall. Instead, he would spend a great deal of time in the town’s library. Not long after, he dropped out of school. This upset his parents greatly since they tried incredibly hard to scrap together the cash to pay for schooling, which is not a luxury most middle-class people have.

At this point, Randall became somewhat of a recluse – basically living in the library. He would sneak in after closing time with a bag full of candles and read for hours on end. It is quite possible that he read every book in Silverhall’s library, but the books that intrigued him most were the ones dealing with various schools of magic. That there existed such power in this world just waiting to be tapped simply astonished and captivated Randall. However, Silverhall’s library was not very big, and did not have many books on magic.

Perhaps this is why, at 13, he tried to convince his parents take him to Brevoy’s capital to marvel at its library. When they explained that they simply could not afford to leave their shop, he ran away from home to the capital. Armed only with the clothes on his back, some food he took from his house, and a small kitchen knife, Randall set off for the capital. On the way he was attacked by a wolf and nearly died. He managed to save himself by fashioning a bandage from the food sack he was carrying, but was left with a gruesome scar running from the back of his right ear down to the bottom of his neck. Injured but alive, Randall made it to the capital, which was considerably richer and more urban than Silverhall. He lived there as a beggar for some years, nearly starving many times. But somehow we would use his wits to get by. Anyway, for Randall, he did not care about living comfortably or luxuriously. He needed more knowledge.

By 16, somehow, without being trained by a mage, Randall spent enough time reading and thinking about magic that he was able to cast a few rudimentary spells. He figured the fact that he was able to do this might allow him entrance to the nearby College of Mages. Usually such a place is reserved for noblemen or a select few. However, upon proving that he was in touch with magic, The Archmage actually decided to let him in to the College. Randall agreed to a rather interesting entrance exam, one where he had to kill an apprentice’s conjured frost troll. He used the only real spell he knew, a magic missile, to melt its face and skull into oblivion.

The next few years were the best years of Randall’s life thus far. Although he was not very popular or well-liked by his professors or peers, they could not deny Randall’s natural gift for magic and his remarkable intelligence. Randall did not spend much time socializing – for him, talking bags of flesh were not nearly as interesting as, for example, learning how to make a column of ice appear from thin air. All schools of magic interested Randall – conjuration, divination, enchantment, illusion, and even necromancy. Necromancy was actually forbidden in the college but there was one professor, a quirky fellow, perhaps more even eccentric than Randall that would secretly practice all sorts of forbidden magic in the Academy’s basement at night. This professor, Dexter Kristoff, became a great friend and mentor to Randall. Kristoff was extremely powerful, probably more powerful than the Archmage. He told stories of his younger days as an adventurer/mercenary, where he killed many men. He said teaching magic at the College is his way of repenting for the lives he took – for not all were evil. Some of Professor Kristoff’s cold sense of humor stays with Randall to this day.

Randall was always prone to showmanship and had a remarkable ego. He frequently proclaimed that he was the greatest mage and that no other student could best him in the arts of magic. This led to many an unfortunate magical duel between Randall and other students. Randall made almost no friends, many enemies, and was often disciplined by the academy staff and professors for his bad behavior and unpermitted spell casting. However, it is worth noting that Randall won almost every duel he was involved in, often by superior magical ability, sometimes by deceit.

After spending quite some time at the college and making it well past the Initiate (errand-boy) rank, Randall ran into some trouble. One day, Professor Kristoff and Randall decided that they were ready to test a new necromancy technique that can magically bring a person back from the dead, and make them stronger than they were in life. They had already tested it on a few toads and they were able to succeed once. This time they wanted to try it on a person. One of the Initiates at the Academy volunteered, likely to gain approval from Professor Kristoff. Hoping to cover his tracks in case anything went awry, Professor Kristoff made the student fill out a consent form. The process involved temporarily killing the subject, only to revive it seconds later. However, for some reason still unbeknownst to Randall, he and the Professor were not able to revive their subject this time. They had effectively murdered someone, which was very hard for Randall do deal with. Still, he tells himself it was for the sake of knowledge.

Professor Kristoff took full responsibility for the incident, but still, Randall’s involvement was not concealable. As such, Professor Kristoff was sent to trial at the High Swordlord’s Court while Randall was luckily simply exiled from the College.

Randall would have been miserable with no college to learn from. Luckily, Professor Kristoff offered Randall an opportunity. The Professor had connections with a local swordlord, and was to picked for a charter expedition into the Stolen Lands. However, with the upcoming trial, he would have been forced to decline. Instead, he offered his charter to Randall, and said he would vouch for his eligibility for the task. Randall knew that there are great secrets to be found in this region – magic beings, fey walkers, all kinds of exciting opportunities to learn. He was more than enthusiastic, with a chance to conduct actual field studies in a region replete with magic and barely tainted by civilization.

Before he left for the High Court, the Professor gave Randall a special item – a musket he found in Numeria, back during his adventuring days, owned by a strange mechanical bandit leader that he killed. With his new weapon, his knowledge of magic, and incredibly ambitious dreams, Randall set off for the Stolen Lands to seize his opportunity to learn, grow, and become the most powerful mage the world has ever seen.
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Old 09-21-2015, 10:28 AM   #3
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Default Re: Dr. Randall E Wainwright: A Peculiar Man with an Unslakable Thirst for Knowledge

Diary
Dr. Randall Eugene Wainwright

The 26th of Calistril, AR 4710

I believe the time is ripe for me to begin an entirely new diary. With this first entry, I commence the tale of an exciting, fresh chapter of my life. This document will likely prove to be the most important artifact of history, assuming I should ever die .

I arrived in the Stolen Lands yesterday, the 25th of Calistril, with little to my name save a backpack with supplies, a dagger, musket, and my familiar Anthony, the squirmy and squishy little toad he is. He is the result of one of my experimental forays into reviving beings from beyond this world. I feel that one day he will be a powerful ally. Immediately, I could sense that I was stepping boldly into the unknown with a purpose that none from Brevoy or even of Golarion have shared. I held a Royal Decree to gather knowledge about these lands, and to help Brevoy settle here. But more importantly, I hold a personal decree to grow closer with the arcane and fey powers that reside in these lands, and bring my knowledge and power to heights I cannot fathom.

By midafternoon I had reached the only settlement known in the Stolen Lands, Oleg’s Trading Post. This ramshackle fort had certainly seen better days. Upon meeting Oleg and his wife, Svetlana, I’m sure they had too. They did not even have a library. Oleg told me of bandit raids that have been plaguing him recently, and have basically bankrupt his already barely-profitable business. As luck would have it, they always come on the same day at around the same time, which happened to be merely 15 hours from our meeting. As not to confuse him with the details of my quest, I humored his notion that I was the reinforcements he requested from Brevoy . Surely, I could outsmart a few bandits that lazily pick scraps from a down-on-his-luck trader.

I could indeed.

I was sure I could either dissuade, scare, or kill these bandits with relative ease as long as Oleg and his wife submitted to my plans. As soon as I told Oleg the royal charter said I was the greatest mage in Brevoy , he followed my wishes with some degree of enthusiasm, despite his drunken nature. With little time before the bandit’s arrival, I was able to sufficiently repair two of the broken catapults on the southern ramparts and teach my two average-intelligence companions how to fire them. Meanwhile, I instructed Oleg to make wooden decoys of soldiers with Brevoy sigils. His wife and I scrounged the post for something to be used as ammunition for these weapons, finding a few stones and an oil barrel. Those catapults were the last resort of my mutli-pronged and inspired plan of dealing with these bandits. Even though Oleg passed out drunk at some point, he did manage to finish 8 decoys of somewhat surprising quality given his competence and nature. The three of us fashioned these eight decoys on the ramparts and I sallied out some ways down the road, just south of an intersection I had previously aimed the catapults towards. If things were to go awry, I would have simply give the couple a signal – my magical dancing lights – and they would fire.

As I planned, though, it did not come to that. As the bandits drew near, I covered the ramparts in an obscuring fog, so to increase the effectiveness of the decoys. I am sure this worked to some degree, as when I began to talk with the bandits, they were not overly eager to fight. The apparent leader of this raiding party, Happs Bydon, soon fell victim to my wits and the magical charms of my person . I convinced him that riches and prestige await by following me instead of his leader, Kressel. Which is true . He told his men to return to camp and say that Oleg’s place was burned down.
A wise choice, even if it did take some convincing. I welcomed him back to Oleg’s for some wine despite some bad blood between the two men for obvious reasons. This foul-mouthed, and somewhat gullible ranger was perhaps the perfect companion to help me in the beginnings of exploring these Stolen Lands.

I now write from a bed in Oleg’s Post after our “sippage,” of quite a few strong bottles of wine – nay a day in these parts and I already have gained an ally , and saved a couple from impending doom . Knowledge and wonders await, I am sure of it.

And I will find them.

-Dr. Randall Eugene Wainwright
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Old 05-02-2016, 11:02 AM   #4
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Diary
Dr. Randall Eugene Wainwright

The 10th of Pharast, 4710 A.R.,

I write again from Oleg’s humble trading post, after a fortnight of travel and exploration, one that has piqued my curiosity for this land more still. I write in high spirits, excited by the small taste of the peculiar and magickal I have experienced hitherto.

After writing my last entry, Mr. Bydon and I set out to explore more of these Stolen Lands. My new companion mentioned a forest to the southwest, and myself knowing that such areas are often the seat of ancient magicks, I decided to travel in that direction.

Only a few days into our journey, we came across of field of odd, white, radish-like vegetables I have not seen or read about before. More interesting still, we encountered four creatures seated in this patch, surrounded by half-eaten specimens of this new vegetable. The creatures were humanoid in nature, with reptilian features and scaly skin. Upon detecting Mr. Bydon and myself, they rose up to greet us with knives and small swords drawn. Seeing that these creatures must possess some small amount of intelligence by their use and possible production of weaponry, I attempted to speak to them and warn them of interfering with my Royal Charter and my plans for these lands. Despite the several tongues I know, including that of goblins and the hellish Infernal, my warnings fell on deaf ears. This pack of short, foolhardy reptiliohumanoids just signed their lives away by challenging the greatest wizard of Brevoy. A shame, really, because I would have liked to learn more of their culture and origins.

Despite being outnumbered by a factor of two, Mr. Bydon and I dispatched of these creatures with little effort. Like most other beings, these were susceptible to the magickal energies that I am able to discharge as a projectile. Although I managed to thin the majority of their numbers, Mr. Bydon proved that what he lacks in intelligence he makes up for with his skill with a longbow.

I received a small puncture injury during the battle, but I was able to masterfully staunch the bleeding and wrap the wound, impressing even myself with first-aid techniques I have not practiced since my time at the Magick Academy. After some more exploring, Mr. Bydon suggested that we return to Oleg’s to resupply, as we were running low on provisions. I quickly told him otherwise, reminding him that we were here to find magicks, and that man’s greatest discoveries are often made during times of strife. Luckily, I began to sense a magickal presence as we protruded slightly deeper into the woods. On the following two mornings, I awoke near our campfire to find myself the victim of magickal mischief, once with my undergarments set alight, and on another occasion, my hands bound to a tree with bark-like fibers. It was on this morning that I saw the two creatures likely responsible for this mischief, and what wondrous creatures they were. Two faeries, each of different appearance, sat atop a tree branch laughing at their joke. One of the creatures, an imp-like miniature humanoid adorned with wings must have sensed my incredible magickal aptitude and actually approached me to converse. I was able to find a common tongue with it, namely that of the Elves. I found this surprising, and I still wonder where such a creature learned this tongue. A simple creature, who quickly offered insight once I presented him with gold coin, a currency he referred to as “shinies.” I soon learned from this faery-folk that there are even more magickal areas in the forest – an ancient temple to the south and a mystical pond to the south and west. I sought the faeries aid in dealing with the nearby bandit camp, but it appeared the feeble creatures were afraid of the “bad bigguns’” as they called them.

Mr. Bydon and I finally returned to Oleg’s, armed with more information regarding the surrounding forest. This time, I noticed there were tents outside of the trading post and I approached them. Here was stationed a few men under the command of an exiled lesser noble-turned-mercenary from Brevoy, Kesten Garess. Upon my return, Kesten claimed that I lied to Oleg regarding who was to defend his trading post. I tried convincing Kesten that my Royal Charter actually places him and his men directly under my employ but, a stubborn man he is, he was not swayed. In time, he will see my leadership sought after and required in these lands, but, for now, letting him simply guard Oleg’s will suffice. We discussed the bandit camp nearby but he was unwilling to lend soldiers to help rid the forest of them. It matters not, for Randall Eugene Wainwright will find a way to deal with them.

Another new inhabitant at Oleg’s, a priestly man by the name of Jhod Kaven, sought my aid in lifting a curse at an old temple of Erastil, God of the Hunt. He claimed a vicious cursed bear lived there. Luckily, this was the same temple that the faery mentioned earlier that week, and was my next destination – for temples are often the source of magick and knowledge. Jhod promised his support if I could rid the temple of this curse. Upon my demand, the priest gave me a small token of favor bearing Erastil’s sigil, which I cleverly requested so that the God would know I come in peace.

Mr. Bydon was reluctant to accompany me to dispatch of a magickal bear, however, I quickly convinced him the journey would be worth it, for there may be riches hidden in the temple. He promptly changed his mind and we set off. A few days into our journey we reached a small clearing. Tucked away in the forest, lay a stone structure behind a small pool of dirty, muck-ridden water. Obviously bearing religious significance, I knew this was the temple Jhod spoke of. My suspicions were soon proven true, as out of the stone structure appeared a large bear that let out a ghastly roar.
Mr. Bydon appeared quite shaken by this image but I rallied him, instructing him to fire at the beast as it ran towards us. A skilled bowman he is, he managed to tag the beast with a few arrows, however this did not seem to faze it. Meanwhile, I readied the already-loaded powder rifle given to me by my former mentor, biding my time for the right moment to pull the trigger. I knew that such a weapon could fell this beast. When I could see into the bear’s troubled eyes, and when I could feel the despair wash over Mr. Bydon next to me, I unleashed the projectile from the musket as a puff of smoke ran up to the sky. I heard the beast fall and let out a painful cry. When the smoke cleared, the beast lay merely inches from me, its momentum sliding it to my feet. I retrieved the token of Erastil from my pocket, flashing it at the bear’s head. This seemed to anger it as it let out its last breath. In the next few seconds, I watched in wonder as the bear morphed into the corpse of an elderly man, then into a skeleton, and finally into nothing but bone dust. Mr. Bydon and I looked up in amazement as the forest and flora around us sprang to life, and the nearby pool cleared itself of muck and grime, now radiating a powerful glow. I then knew that my efforts lifted the curse. Unfortunately for Mr. Bydon, the temple held negligible riches, and even more disappointingly, there were no ancient texts for me to decipher. However, our mission was complete

I recovered the bone dust as proof of my deed and I also saved a sample of the pool water, for my instincts tell me it houses magickal properties.

Our journey back to Oleg’s was uneventful. Mr. Bydon remarked that he was impressed by my weapon and appeared quite grateful that I was there to fight the beast with him. Rightfully so.

Back at Oleg’s, Jhod was similarly impressed that we were able to lift this curse so easily, and he promised his services to me if I should ever need them. As I had suspected, this priestly man dabbles in healing magicks, which may be useful should me or my compatriots see ourselves wounded in our journeys.

Although I have not found a concrete way of dealing with the bandits in the nearby forest, I have gained yet another ally in such a short period of time, and I have begun to perceive the magicks that lurk in this land. I know that this is merely the beginning of the wonders I will soon discover. More knowledge awaits deeper in the forest, and I will need its power if I am to continue cleansing these lands and pave the way for civilization.

The Stolen Lands are changing and history is being made.

I, Randall Eugene Wainwright, am the catalyst that will launch these troubled lands into an age of wonder and prosperity!

- R.E.W
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Old 11-17-2018, 08:43 AM   #5
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The 18th of Pharast, 4710 A.R.,


I had not suspected my time here in the Stolen Lands would see me becoming somewhat of a monster hunter but over the last week that is precisely what has happened. At Oleg’s, I happened across an old hunter named Vekkel. Apparently this man is somewhat well known as one of the best in his trade around these parts. Despite his supposed skill, he came to Oleg’s seeking someone who could rid the Stolen Lands of a particularly nasty boar by the name of Tuskgutter. Interestingly enough this talk of monster slaying must have inspired Oleg to put out a contract on two Tatzylwurms that have been ravaging the countryside. These contracts piqued my interests. My mind was tickled by the idea that perhaps the tatzylworms’ lair was a site of ancient magicks. On top of that, Vekkel promised his masterwork bow as a reward for killing the Tuskgutter, which is one of the few things my servant Mr. Bydon could make good use of. With that, Mr. Bydon and I set off to cleanse the lands of these creatures and pave the way for civilization and routes of commerce!

Mr. Bydon lived up to his title as my Guide to these northern parts of the stolen lands and was able to find the Tuskgutter’s lair quite easily. A truly savage creature, this Tuskgutter. As we approached its grounds we saw many deer that seemed to be killed simply for sport. Unfortunately, I did not sense any magic emanating from these grounds and I knew that this boar was mundane and therefore no match for the greatest wizard of Brevoy. Despite being able to masterfully sneak up on our Tuskgutter, the beast turned with a look of surprise and rage, and began to charge at Mr. Bydon and myself. For some reason, fear flushed over my servant’s face, as he knocked his arrow, asking me what he was to do. Apparently Mr. Bydon’s fear got the best of him. I instructed my servant to strike the boar’s eye, but his arrow went wild, not even coming near the beast. Unfortunately, Mr. Bydon’s lack of finesse caused him a great deal of pain, as the Tuskgutter gored my servant straight through his torso, lifting him off the ground and sending him to his back. Luckily, I had been expertly tracking the beast’s movement with my musket and let out a devastatingly accurate shot at its head, killing it instantly and nearly causing decapitation. Mr. Bydon was in quite a bad way, as he lay on the floor, unconscious, losing blood quite fast from a 2-inch hole in his chest. My knowledge of first-aid was able to stabilize him but unfortunately I knew this would not be enough to ensure his safety on the route back to Oleg’s.

Earlier Mr. Bydon and I had an argument about the potion I gathered from the magick water at the Elk temple. My intuition told me that such a potion would work better on those magickly adept and I insisted we should save it for my own use. Mr. Bydon insulted my arcane knowledge by claiming that he believes it would work equally on any man. Fear not, dear readers, for I set Mr. Bydon straight and threatened him bodily harm were he ever to insult my knowledge again.

Despite all this, as I looked at the hole in Mr. Bydon’s chest, I knew I could not let my servant lose effectiveness in the upcoming days, for there was cleansing to be achieved. Reluctantly, I let Mr. Bydon drink my potion and watched in awe as his wound underwent a few days’ worth of healing in a matter of seconds. With that, we set off back to Oleg’s with Tuskgutter’s severed head to collect our reward and let Mr. Bydon’s wound finish healing.
Vekkel lived up to his end of the bargain and bequeathed to Mr. Bydon his masterwork bow. Perhaps this will ensure Mr. Bydon does not miss again in the future. Thanks to some healing magicks from my acquired friend, Jhod the priest of Erastil, Mr. Bydon was healed and we were ready to venture forth to continue our cleansing.

This time we were to find the lair of a particularly vile creature, the tatzylworm. I had read a great deal about these beasts but never had the opportunity to see one in the flesh. As you might imagine, I was excited for what curiosities awaited me. While we travelled I grew weary of the mundane nature of the previous few days and I sought to make contact with the faeries that I met last month. Unfortunately, they were nowhere to be found. Eventually, Mr. Bydon and I approached some sort of stone ruins. I had glorious visions of ancient knowledge being sealed away within these ruins and convinced Mr. Bydon to accompany me as we scouted the area. It was pitch dark at that very moment, so I created some magickal lights that managed to light up and great portion of the ruins. To my awe I saw a giant frog-like creature emerge from the ruins and being charging at us. For some reason Mr. Bydon looked frightened and cautiously drew his bow.

Before I could draw my musket, atop another section of the ruins appeared a humanoid shape, who began shouting orders in a tongue unknown to me. This came as a shock, for I know a vast deal of tongues both new and old. As the figure stepped closer atop the rampart I saw it to be a boggard. Thankfully, I recalled a wealth of information regarding boggards from my time spent reading Creatures of the Swamps and Undergrowths by Marcus Finneas. Boggards, though prone to violence, are not an evil race per se. These frog-men are usually addicted to hallucinogens found in nature but possess great physical strength. I quickly “surrendered” to this boggard and threw my hands in the air, seeking to converse with the creature. I found the creature spoke broken versions of both the common tongue and the goblins’. A curious member of his species, this one was named Glenrum, an exile from a nearby boggard settlement. Glenrum supposedly stole some sort of strength-bestowing magickal firefly from his compatriots and was kept captive by his people. I took mental note of this magickal firefly, for I would take great joy in finding one and studying its properties. Glenrum was able to escape captivity with his massive frog creature whom he calls Slurk. He treats this Slurk as we humans might treat a horse, and he even says he has ridden Slurk into battle. Due to boggards’ well below average intelligence, gaining this one’s trust was quite simple. I let him show me the ruins that he called his “kingdom” and complimented him at every turn at his ability to “rule” these parts. Unfortunately, these ruins did not house any magickal knowledge or ancient secrets as I had hoped.

Seeing that Glenrum possessed great physical strength I asked him to accompany me and Mr. Bydon in finding the tatzylworms that I knew must be nearby. I convinced Glenrum that the tatzylworms’ lair is home to hallucinogens that are stronger than any mushroom or swamp whiskey he has ever consumed. He said he would come with us if I let him have all of the “feel-good” plants that we found. Of course, I agreed. Now, it is unlikely that the tatzylworm lair even has any kind of hallucinogenic plants, but this clever lie has gained Mr. Bydon and I a powerful ally in our upcoming struggle against the tatzylworms. Glenrum even offered to let us sleep in his ruins for the night. Mr. Bydon did not like this idea nor that of us lying to Glenrum, but I assured him that Glenrum is unlikely to survive the encounter with the tatzylworms. I seek to use the frog-man as a sort of expendable soldier, who can lead the charge into the tatzylworm lair.

I write now from Glenrum’s Kingdom. A modest kingdom with a population of three; Glenrum, Mr. Bydon and I. Though I jest here about Glenrum and his odd definition of kingdom, I cannot deny our good fortune in finding him and in my guileful success in recruiting him to our cause.

In the upcoming days I know that we will slay these beasts and further our successes here in the stolen lands.

Fear me, beasts of these savage realms; for any who threaten the growth of civilization will fall before Randall Eugene Wainwright, the greatest wizard of Brevoy!

- R.E.W
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Old 11-22-2018, 11:41 AM   #6
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The 27th of Pharast, 4710 A.R.,

I awoke to find that Mr. Bydon had drank himself too sleep the night before, apparently afraid that Glenrum or his pet creature would kill us overnight – despite my assurance that I had sealed Glenrum’s loyalty. At least for the upcoming venture into the taztylwurm lair. He seemed relieved despite his hangover, but he never should have doubted me to begin with.

Glenrum informed us that he would like to leave his pet Slurk behind to protect his “kingdom” while we looked for the “feel-good mushrooms.” I agreed and told him that the three of us would prove sufficient for any challenge that awaits us. The boggard proved a great help in finding the tatzylwurm lair – a pile of rubble nestled in a river embankment tucked away in the forest. Mr. Bydon and I took position at the seat of the embankment and I instructed Glenrum to charge through the river and towards the lair. I watched as Glenrum took advantage of his amphibious nature and moved effortlessly through the water and emerged on the other side, shield attached to his half- amputated arm and bastard sword at the ready. Surely enough, moments later an interesting creature appeared, a nearly 12-foot long wormlike, wingless dragon of the sea. It seemed to float along the surface as if by arcane force as I watched it and Glenrum exchange blows in melee. Despite Glenrum’s lack of intelligence, he has an instinctual survival skill that makes him deadly in melee combat.

Mr. Bydon and I supported Glenrum from afar. I first made some arcane dancing lights appear near the two which served to distract the wyrm, and another that soon emerged momentarily. This created an opening for Glenrum to land a few key slashes with his sword. The wyrms apparently can breath a poison mist but thankfully Glenrum was able to avoid this caustic attack. Mr. Bydon was not striking true with his bow this day. Perhaps the situation was too much for him. Regardless, I did not hold it against him. I managed to land a decisive shot with my trusty musket at one point, and I saw the amazement in Glenrum’s eyes at its destructive power.

After both beasts lay dead by our hands, I slaked Glenrum’s curiosity and explained to him that my musket is a magickal “Demon Stick” and I chanted a hypothetical spell in the infernal language while I reloaded the gun. This served to further his awe of my magic capabilities even if it is a stretch of the truth for sure. We searched the rubble and found some armors and elven treasures on some old corpses long forgotten. Mr. Bydon and I were happy for this, as they might fetch a fair price at Oleg’s. I also uncovered an ancient map which greatly helped me solidify what I already knew about the surrounding area. I examined the dead wyrms and tried to learn more about their magickal properties, but I could not divine much information. Still a satisfying adventure nevertheless, and I felt one step closer to taming these wild lands, for beasts such as these have no place in a civilized future!

Glenrum was quite displeased that we did not find any psychedelic mushrooms in the rubble. For a moment I thought his loyalty would waver so as a last-ditch effort I thought to make my own concoction that may serve to afflict the mind. I ground up some herbs, bone dust, gunpowder, and the possibly poisonous tatzylwyrm blood in a cup with water and handed it to Glenrum. Whether by placebo or my own alchemical skill this appeared to do the trick. Glenrum was satisfied for the time being and agreed to accompany us back to Oleg’s where I promised him more “feel-good drink.”

Our trip back to Oleg’s was uneventful. I attempted to contact the faeries in the forest to learn more about them. Despite using every ritual I knew, the faeries were nowhere to be found. Perhaps they were busy. Odd creatures.

Upon arrival at Oleg’s I was greeted by the unhappy face of Keston and his band of soldiers that have been stationed in the camp. He told me that merchant wagons meant for Oleg’s camp were attacked and did not make it from Brevoy. An unfortunate but minor setback.

Keston also insinuated at one point in our conversation that I am not the greatest wizard of Brevoy. I kindly pointed out to him that he and his mercenaries have done nothing but take up space in Oleg’s since they have arrived and that I and my allies have slain mythical beasts and singlehandedly defended Oleg’s against a bandit raiding party of superior numbers. I do not need men like him doubting my abilities.

Oleg was alarmed to see a boggard in his home when we finally went to speak with him. I promised him that Glenrum is an ally but agreed that perhaps he should sleep in the stable as to not alarm anyone else. I gave Glenrum some of Oleg’s rum and instructed him to sleep in the stable for the night. Oleg was happy to see that we returned as I told him of the cleansing we had accomplished. We pawned what we found at the wyrm lair off for a fair price and I divided the gold among my allies fairly, which pleased Mr. Bydon. I also spoke with Svetlana who told me of an old family heirloom that was taken by Kressle and the bandits from the nearby bandit camp – my next target. I assured her that I would find her ring and that these bandits would be no match for the greatest wizard of Brevoy!

The next morning as I was getting ready to venture out to the bandit camp to end their threat on Oleg’s once and for all, I was approached by Mr. Bydon who seemed more somber than usual. I assured him that I was not angry about his poor marksmanship during the Battle of the Tatzylwyrms. He told me this has nothing to do with that, but that he is requesting to be released from his service to me, at least for the upcoming venture to the bandit camp. He explained to me that Kressle was his former lover and that he refuses to do battle against her. Being the fair man that I am, and in light of Mr. Bydon’s valuable service thus far I agreed to release him from my company under the condition that he tell me the best way to get into the camp and everything he knows about the bandits and their numbers. Mr. Bydon agreed. His information would prove useful for the upcoming battle. As a gesture of goodwill, I promised Mr. Bydon I would do everything I could to ensure Kressle survives the encounter.

Glenrum was happy with the liquor I gave him the night before and seemed willing to accompany me to the bandit camp where I promised him we might find either more liquor or perhaps magic mushrooms. Though outnumbered and the odds stacked against us, the two of us set out towards the bandit camp. I thought it best to approach at night, using the nearly-hidden route that Mr. Bydon had revealed to me. I remember reading that boggards can see just as well at night as during the day, and Glenrum informed me this was true.

As we approached the camp, I saw a few bandits, including one in a watchtower and the Leader Kressle keeping watch. I instructed Glenrum to stay hidden and only attack should he hear my war cry. I revealed myself and attempted to negotiate with Kressle. I explained to her that I am the greatest wizard of Brevoy and that I am here to cleanse the Stolen Lands. I informed her that Mr. Bydon is my ally and I even offered her employment if she would serve me instead of the mad Stag Lord. She quickly revealed her cynical nature and was unimpressed by both my accomplishments and what I had to offer her in gold and employment. I knew that these negotiations would soon deteriorate. As a final bluff, I threatened to shoot her wagon of liquor with my musket, ensuring her that it would ignite and destroy half the camp and her watchtower. Unwavered, she ordered her bowman to attack me, and at the same time I ordered Glenrum to emerge from the bushes and an all-out battle ensued. Thankfully the darkness gave me a true advantage from her bowmen. Their arrows seemed to fly around me but none were able to strike true – the distance too great in such low-light conditions. Glenrum and Kressle duked it out in melee. Kressle was a savage opponent, wielding an axe in each hand. I began to use my magick missles against the bowmen, expertly dispatching them and faltering their morale. Surely this rag-tag team of bandits have not seen a wizard in action before!

Unfortunately, Glenrum suffered a grievous injury to his leg during his melee with Kressle. At this time, I knew I had to use my musket on her, despite my promise to Mr. Bydon. As I let the shot go I watched in awe as Kressle’s right hand disintegrated into a few chunks of flesh that scattered onto the ground, leaving her bleeding profusely with her wrist exposed to the bone. Kressle immediately fell unconscious and one of the bandits threw down his arms and surrendered. I let out one last cry to the other’s in the camp – surrender now or be killed. Another came forward and surrendered, but one stubborn flea remained. He was dispatched of by the severely injured Glenrum.

(continued next post)
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Old 11-22-2018, 11:41 AM   #7
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Glenrum’s leg had a slash so severe that it had taken away a large portion of it’s muscle mass. Thankfully the first aid skills I know for treating humans mostly apply the same for the boggard race and I was able to stabilize him for the time being. I am unsure if he leg will ever be the same but only time will tell. Similarly, I was able to cauterize Kressle’s hand after the battle and stop her bleeding. She is comatose but will likely survive, at least after a few days’ rest. I offered the remaining two bandits a choice – return with me to Oleg’s to face trial or be executed by me immediately. They chose the former. Unfortunately, I could not find Svetlana’s ring, but one of the bandits informed me that a dark fey race of mites raided their camp recently and they are in possession of the ring.

I am perhaps more interested in their presence in these lands than I am of Svetlana’s ring. Either way – I know my next mission will be to rid the Stolen Lands of these mischievous mites, a creature I have not studied in some time.

I write now as we rest for the night at the bandit camp. Tomorrow, we must return to Oleg’s and bring them the good news – that I, the greatest wizard of Brevoy, have bested the mighty Kressle and thus have brought peace to the lands surrounding Oleg’s camp! A glorious future awaits, and this is still only the beginning of what I can accomplish here.

Lawlessness and savagery have no place in the new world I shall create!

-R.E.W.
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Old 11-30-2018, 10:21 PM   #8
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The 28th of Pharast, 4710 A.R.,

On our journey back to Oleg’s I noticed a peculiar sight – the aftermath of a battle between a race of kobolds and the mites the bandits mentioned earlier. Roughly 6-8 of each lay dead at the site of the skirmish, brutally stabbed and bludgeoned by each other’s’ crude weapons. These two races warring against each other and being aggressive towards human travelers is not behavior that is welcome in my vision for these lands. I knew I must see to it that these creatures are pacified.

Upon my arrival at Oleg’s, Keston Garress seemed to doubt that I would return from the bandit camp – let alone with their leader and two prisoners in tow. He was wrong to underestimate the greatest wizard of Brevoy. I instructed him to hang one of the dead bandit bodies I brought with me as a deterrent for would-be-criminals. He agreed and promised to watch my prisoners in his camp while I attended to business at Olegs. He and I both knew that Kressle must hang for her crimes and I feared Mr. Bydon’s reaction when I broke the news that I was not able to get Kressle to submit to me. Mr. Bydon though seemingly cold-hearted during our travels, clearly had a soft spot for Kressle. I noticed the sadness in his voice as we spoke about the events at the bandit camp. He too knew that Kressle would be hanged and told me he would try to break her out of the camp that night. I advised him strongly against that and that I would not be able to protect him if he were to try.

Though I had seen it coming, the next morning I awoke to learn that the fool had tried to break Kressle free from her cage and was caught by Garress’s men. Through careful negotiation with Mr. Garress and in light of Mr. Bydon’s help in the Stolen Lands I managed to arrange for Mr. Bydon serve out the rest of his days as a hard laborer in Brevoy. Mr. Bydon gave me great praise for this and thanked me for allowing him into my service these past few weeks. Let it be known that Randall is fair to his allies whenever possible!

The bandit Kressle gave me a sob story about growing up poor and claimed it was “the system’s” fault that she resorted to a life of banditry. Such logic has no place in my Kingdom. She claims that I am no match for the Stag Lord who is supposedly a monster of a man, guarded by many men, seated in a fortress to the south. I know that I will find a way to best him and even the playing field over the next few weeks. Kressle then spat in my direction as I walked away, leaving her to her fate.

A message had been hand delivered by a courier from the Lord Mayor of Restov that my next mission is to kill the Stag Lord and that great rewards await should I be able to do so. I was pleased to hear this as I knew my travels would see me squaring off with the lord eventually. I sent the messenger back with news of my great successes here thus far and a copy-sketch of the map I have been creating of the Stolen Lands.

I then spoke with the post’s inhabitants regarding the mites and kobolds ravaging the lands to the south. Svetlana perhaps was confused or drunk as she told me the mites are a spider-like creature that can shoot webs from their eyes. Of course, I knew the mites to be as described in my previous entry – a twisted fey race resembling a tiny corrupted goblin. I learned from Oleg and the Priest of Erastil that the mites reside underneath a giant Sycamore Tree. I knew this would be my next destination. I first would seek to learn why they are being so aggressive and warring with the kobolds and if that should fail I would have no choice but to exterminate the creatures and burn their tree to the ground.

With that, Glenrum and I set out for the Sycamore tree to the south. We took our time getting there as Glenrum nursed his injured leg. Though still not fully healed, the boggard was making good progress as the wound formed a nasty scab. The tree was a sight to behold. An anomaly of nature, it towered over all the other trees in the area. A shame that a beautiful tree such as this one would be home to a race of seemingly vile creatures.

Seeing that the mites are an underground-dwelling creature, I thought it best to approach the tree during the day, where many may be asleep. As we approached the opening at the base of the tree, a mite appeared to speak with us. A sniveling little creature, he told me his name was Uurch and he refused to let me speak to his leader without surrendering my weapons. I obliged and have him my knife. He told me to give him my musket as well which I assured him was merely a walking stick. Apparently, these creatures are slightly less feeble-minded than I originally thought, as the little devil ran back into the tree effectively stealing my knife and breaking off negotiations. As such, Glenrum and I had no choice but to follow him in and launch our assault on the undergrowth.
After a tricky and steep climb down some roots, we emerged in a series of interconnected underground dirt caves. My ability to conjure dancing balls of magickal light would serve me well for the remainder of this adventure. After bravely slaying many mites, Glenrum and I had noticed that the creatures had been holding a kobold captive, poking at it with tiny knives. Not enough to kill it, but seemingly for enjoyment. Truly a sick race of under-beings, these creatures had a sadistic side to them that has no place in my society. After slaying a dozen more mites, we freed the captive kobold. Thankfully my vast knowledge of languages allowed me to communicate to some extent with the creature. The creature named Mikmek explained that the mites stole a holy statue or relic from the kobold leader, Soothscale. I encouraged the captive to fight with us despite his injuries. He quickly agreed and seemed eager to exact his revenge.

Navigating the caves led to an ominous chasm with a series of roots serving as a bridge leading to the other side. I decided to forego using this bridge for now for it seemed too risky and difficult to navigate for a human. Eventually we made it to a very peculiar room filled with eggs of an unknown nature. Perhaps too busy with his work to hear the fighting from earlier, I managed to peacefully converse with a mite here, who told me these were breeding grounds for giant centipedes that the mites lead into battle. He then made a sound and three of these beastly creatures appeared. I managed to convince this “breedmaster” that I was here on a peaceful envoy mission on behalf of the kobolds and the humans in the area. He directed me deeper into the cave and recalled his centipedes to tuck back away into their dark corners of the room.

The next room had many mites in it that were, to my surprise, playing musical instruments and reading books! My curiosity almost got the better of me here as every inch of my being told me I must see what secrets these books hold. However, we were outnumbered and all of us had been injured in the previous encounters, so I smartly decided to sneak past this group of mites and venture deeper still into the caves, emerging in the room opposite the chasm from earlier.

A group of mites, one obviously larger and wearing more armor than the rest were huddled around a table that appeared to be holding a map. Upon closer inspection I realized they were using this map to plan their battles with the kobolds. I readied my musket and took aim at their leader as I cast my magickal lights on the table. As I could tell from earlier, these creatures do not like light and the sudden emergence of several dancing balls of light on their table sent them into a confused frenzy. Their leader shouted to me and I offered him one last chance to surrender to me. He refused and ran towards one of the spike-ball shooting contraptions these mites apparently assembly from wood and scrap metal. He never made it to the contraption as I let my musket roar, sending a ball clean through his chest, taking a large portion of flesh and innards with it. Taking their leader out of the fight immediately made the remaining mites shaken as they attempted to charge my party. During the battle I was stuck with a war dart which managed to puncture deeply into my abdomen. I was able to fight back the pain as we bested them in melee. Then, I noticed one of the ticks emerge from the corner of the room. Luckily Glenrum was able to stop it in an impressive display, cutting one of its mandibles cleanly off. After killing several more of the vermin, the remaining two, one of them being Uurch from earlier surrendered.

(continued below)
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Old 11-30-2018, 10:23 PM   #9
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In a brief moment of respite, we tied up the prisoner mites and searched the room, finding the kobold statue Mikmek mentioned earlier. Not a moment later I saw a large band of mites flanked by more of the giant ticks coming from whence we came. Unfortunately, we had no choice but to cross the chasm. I did my best to use rope to support the three of us as I ordered Mikmek to go first, seeing that he was the lightest of us. As he scurried across the roots, I noticed the caves trembling. To my right, emerging from the chasm was a horrible sight – a nearly 30ft long giant centipede, barreling towards Mikmek with its mouth wide open, revealing thousands of tiny teeth. We tried to pull Mikmek back to us, but it was too late, as the centipede swallowed him whole and retreated into the chasm to digest him. My quick thinking told me that this may be our only chance to cross, while it was busy digesting our temporary kobold ally. Glenrum, with both mites on his back and I scampered across the root bridge, but we lost our footing. I struggled with all my might and managed to cross the bridge but noticed Glenrum was still hanging from the rope and the centipede was now barreling towards him. I told him quickly to throw one of the mites into its mouth. With not a moment to spare, Glenrum tossed a mite from his shoulder into the giant’s mouth and it recoiled again to digest it. Narrowly escaping death, Glenrum and I had made it across. I poured oil on the root bridge and set it alight, hoping the whole vile cave system would envelop in flames as Glenrum and I raced out.

Back on the surface, a safe distance away, I write to you now. We have escaped with our lives and a thick black smoke has been seeping out of the base of the tree for hours. None of the revolting creatures have escaped. Once again, I have been successful on my mission. A lair of villainous beasts purged by the great Randall Eugene Wainright. The kobold statute and a mite prisoner both in my possession as bargaining chips in potential negotiations with the kobolds. Let us never forget this day when two men destroyed an entire hive of mites, in the Battle of the Sycamore Tree. And let us never forget still, the bright future that awaits the Stolen Lands under my leadership!

-R.E.W
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