[Pathfinder] Scotley's Kingmaker IC continued.

[Deuce Traveler]

"Hail Oleg! My lord is happy to report that the bandit leader has been slain and camp destroyed. And we have brought a prisoner. Who are the men with you," Rhote asks.

 

[Scotley]

The usually dour Oleg beams at the announcement. "This is Kesten Garess. The Swordlords finally answered my request for some help out here. He and his men are to be stationed here."

OOC: [sblock=DC20 Knowledge Nobility check]Kesten is a member of one of Brevoy’s noble houses in name only. You recall the scandal when an affair
between Kesten and a lowborn woman named Tania, a weaver’s daughter, became public knowledge. His father Evan, a cousin of the Garess family patriarch, disowned Kesten, who fled to Restov to serve as a mercenary. He appears to be trying to get back into the good graces of the nobility.[/sblock]

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Rhote shrugs. "I suppose the more help we have out here the better." Despite his acceptance of the new men, the mage leans on his staff and stares elsewhere rather than shake hands with people he is not familiar.

Failed Nobility Check: 1d20+4=9

 

[Shayuri]

"Finally," Kyria says sourly. "I thought that's what WE were."

She gives the other men a curt nod. "Not that we couldn't use the help."

With a tired exhalation that wasn't quite a sigh, Kyria took a seat on one of the haystacks near the stable.

"Those particular bandits won't be a problem anymore. With the leader gone and most of them dead, the dregs will fade away until someone new comes along to organize them. It'll take a lot more than just us to stop that though. You need regular patrols and a fortified base of operations to put down bandits for the long run."

"Speaking of which...Oleg, did you know there's a tribe of kobolds not far from here?"

 

[SelcSilverhand]

The Prince doesn't relax his vigil until he passes the outerwall of the fortifications and calls the company to a halt. He is surprised to see Oleg's guests, but is too exhausted to think much of them. Remembering the oft repeated lessons of his tutors though he greets the visitors formally.
I am Prince Liam of House Chelias of the Kingdom of Chelias, these are my companions; My brother Rhote also of Chelias, Kyria Estanes, and Pixie. Among your men is there any that are skilled at the healing arts? We have wounded here." He gestures at his companions, insistent that their own wounds be tended to before his own.

 

[Scotley]

"Finally," Kyria says sourly. "I thought that's what WE were."

She gives the other men a curt nod. "Not that we couldn't use the help."

With a tired exhalation that wasn't quite a sigh, Kyria took a seat on one of the haystacks near the stable.

"Those particular bandits won't be a problem anymore. With the leader gone and most of them dead, the dregs will fade away until someone new comes along to organize them. It'll take a lot more than just us to stop that though. You need regular patrols and a fortified base of operations to put down bandits for the long run."

"Speaking of which...Oleg, did you know there's a tribe of kobolds not far from here?"

The bandit prisoner snorts and mumbles, "You haven't met the Stag Lord yet."

Oleg responds, "Some of the trappers have mentioned Kobolds. Do you think they are a threat? I hear so many wild tales of dangerous denizens of the Greenbelt it is hard to know what to believe." He scratches his beard for a moment and then ducks into a storeroom. He returns with a rolled up piece of parchment. It bares a crude drawing of a small reptilian humanoid with a sword wearing a helm with a spike on top. In big letters it says 'REWARD'. The Swordlords are offering a reward to anyone who can 'Find their lair and ensure that the kobolds aren’t going to continue being a threat.' "I get these sometimes. I guess maybe I should post em. Nobody round here has been much interested before."

 

[Scotley]

The Prince doesn't relax his vigil until he passes the outerwall of the fortifications and calls the company to a halt. He is surprised to see Oleg's guests, but is too exhausted to think much of them. Remembering the oft repeated lessons of his tutors though he greets the visitors formally.
I am Prince Liam of House Chelias of the Kingdom of Chelias, these are my companions; My brother Rhote also of Chelias, Kyria Estanes, and Pixie. Among your men is there any that are skilled at the healing arts? We have wounded here." He gestures at his companions, insistent that their own wounds be tended to before his own.

The men bow respectfully, "My Lord, Kesten Garess at your service," says their leader. "I'm sorry to say our skills lay more in giving wounds than in healing them."

OOC: Where is our Druid?

 

[SelcSilverhand]

The Prince abruptly smacks the side of his head with his palm. "Damn, where's my head? It's been a tiring day. We have another, Brondelleon, a wise man of the woods. If he's made it back yet he may be able to help as well."

Liam looks over at their prisoner. "What's this mumbling about a Stag Lord? Another one of your criminal leaders? We'll be sure to sort him out in due time."

"Oleg, if you would be so kind as to have your wife put on a meal, we could use something to fill our bellies after our battle. I'd be glad to tell you all about it."



OOC: Sorry! Forgot our druid in the introductions.

 

[Kaodi]

Those with keen hearing may hear a faint whisper of "Medic..." coming from the direction of the makeshift stretcher.

 

[Kaodi]

OOC: Paging Mr. [MENTION=49929]Scott_Dewar[/MENTION] . Surge- I mean, story, is ready for you, .