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/qst/ - Quests

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Hello /qst/! I've always wanted to run a civ thread back when /tg/ did quests. And now that corona chan fucked me over, I have a lot of free time. Please enjoy my oc civ thread. I promise I won't disappear. You have a choice of 8 civs, each representing different Houses of Yuan-ti (D&D snake men). They each have their own unique starting locales, with inherent risks and benefits. Do you want to be the last guardians of a dead gods empire? Do you want to be the remnants of a scattered tribe, struggling to survive? Or perhaps play politics with human and elven kingdoms, both out to destroy your homeland.

You know the rules, first to 3, or whoever has most votes in 20 minutes wins.
House Eselemas
House Sseradess.
>The Coiled Cabal
coiled cabal
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>Coiled Cabal
Formed long ago when mighty Sseth left the face of Toril, and the chaos of the Yuan-ti houses succession war. A coalition of refugees, outcasts, and arcanists, this cabal puts only the vrael-olo, or "Faithful People" as the Yuan-ti call themselves, first and foremost. No longer bound to the worship of serpentine deities, the cabal is not the most popular, often hiding it's members in clandestine cells, with few intermingling.

You are one of these cell leaders, Ssetok, mighty Yuan-ti malison. Traditionally, many members of the Cabal are ex-members of the Hss'tafi, and you share that bond. Based out of the Serpent Hills, you must navigate the turbulent serpent society of the Naga King, and the machinations of Hss'tafi itself.

To your east lays the elven kingdom of Evereska, to your west is the troll infested evermoors, a helpful deterrent against the human cities of the sword coast. To the south lays the forest of wyrms, a dragon infested den of volatile tyrants. Finally, to the north, is the Highforest, land of fey creatures.

You have just received orders from your superior. Your mission, to infiltrate the small town of Mudheim, a settlement built on the winding water river. You have 3 purebloods, 1 broodguard, and enough supplies to pass yourself off as traders.
Your party has traveled many a league, through rough terrain and cold rivers. But your destination is near at an end.

But avast! A lone ranger accosts your party. Your illusion spells are still intact, for it seems this ranger is hailing you for parley. In your possession are (1) tent wagon, (1) broodguard in said tent, (2) weeks of rations and various trade goods.

Your weaponry is apparent, you have many short blades and daggers, and your style of dress is obviously southern, perhaps he thinks you're Calimshites.

How do you react to the mysterious ranger?
>roll 1d20 to determine success.
>Procure a wagon through banditry
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fug, forgot image.

You steal your own wagon?
I posted like 5 seconds after you did, so I didn't see the post.
That said,
>Yes, steal your own wagon at the earliest opportunity
ask him what he wants but make it clear that you are in no mood to do business and just want to pass by
>parley with him, lets dont blow our cover
Not wishing to deal with the rangers potential danger, you and your party of ne'er-do-wells begin to abscond with your precious legally obtained goods. The purebloods do not dare question you, mighty Ssetok, and the broodguard was already asleep. Of course a wagon being pulled by three scantily clad women do not outrun the ranger.

He approaches amused.

>Hail there traveler, you look quite lost. You seem to have quite the burden on your shoulder. For a fee, I could loosen that for you.

You don't see any helpers, the man appears alone. But knowing ranger tricks, he may very well be a bandit himself. How do you respond to this persistent samaritan?
I don't see my post coming up, hopefully it doesn't repeat.

You give the order to your loyal purebloods to make haste, mushing them forward in pulling the heavy wagon tent. Unfortunately, women power is not enough to outrun the confused ranger.

He approaches you.

>That's quite the load you have there partner. Will be a mighty shame if something were to happen to it. For a fee, I can aid ya on yer quest.

He appears alone, and your combat abilities are easily strong enough to defeat him. How shall you deal with the persistent samaritan?
>Estimate if our strongest spell could kill him in a single blast
>if not, posture cryptically
>if yes, set arcane focus to vaporize
Intimitate him to fuck off
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The power of a Yuan-ti is not threatened by pestering rangers. Using arcane magic, taught to all Overhoods of the Cabal, you tell him to fuck off or get vaporized.

He begins combat...
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Oh shit what you do boi

The ranger makes a quick whistle, and before you know it, the smell of filthy non-scales fills your tongue (or however a snake head smells). (3)! dirty peasants comes out of the woods. You have (3) purebloods ready for combat, though sluggish from pulling the wagon. Your (1) broodguard is still asleep.

The ranger looks cocky, your illusion is still holding up. What do you do, young Overhood?
We are a wizard, right? If so,
If not, try and wake up the broodguard.
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Using your arcane might, you hurl a FIREBALL at the cocky ranger. Sadly, the cost of such an act has broken your parties illusion spell. Before the ranger could react, he was stunned by your ophidian visage (your giant snake head).

One of your purebloods, sensed your desire to awaken the broodguard, and has made progress stirring the lazy fuck. This meant however the other two were getting pummeled by smelly humans. You hope they're fine.

It is safe to say the ranger is dead, or KO at the least. How do you deal with the obviously weak and leaderless peasants?
We need to improve the AoE of our fireball spell, one target is downright pathetic.
>Terrify the peasants into accepting new leadership.
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Yes, Ssetok was always a bit of a slacker. Perhaps through this mission, his power shall grow to new heights.

The peasants, at the sight of your fully er-awake broodguard quickly cower, and the sight of once beautiful women turned snakes has demoralized them completely. The rangers apparent death can best be summarized as "eh fuck that biter". They are at your mercy, oh Overhood.

Battle results:
(1) spell depleted (will reset at next day)
(1) dead ranger to loot
(3) peasant thralls
(3) tired and battered women.

What next, oh mighty Ssetok? Shall you continue to Mudheim, despite your broken illusion spell? Kill the peasants? Eat them?
>Have the peasants decide among themselves who gets eaten, provide straws if they can't choose themselves
>Loot the ranger
>Use the remaining two peasants to pull the cart
>Prepare a simple disguise
kill and eat them
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The task of drawing straws was quite amusing. The loser was quickly fed to the broodguard, and the girls were happy to have thralls pushing the cart instead of themselves. The rangers clothes were quite impervious to flame, and thus you don a sinister cowl, hoping no one will notice your giant snake head. Curse concentration spells.

You even have a spare snack. A peasants head will surely be a nice treat for the lazy broodguard.

Any other business before Mudheim?
>Disguise ourselves as a snake, but badly. Very badly. The monkeys will think we are one of them, pretending to be a superior serpent.
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Using the innate ancestral power of all Malisons, you turn your pathetic human shaped body into that of a mighty serpent. You're not sure what the plan is, but shock and awe has always been key to success they say.

Your party enters MUDHEIM

Mudheim Locales:
(1) Tavern, you see the shopkeeper standing around...
(1) Alchemist shop, the man is hawking his wares today.
(1) Fountain, where all gossiping women and peddlers mingle.
(1) Barons House, you see two guards watching his door.

The peasants have staged the wagon, ordered not to leave the broodguard for fear of death. They look quite terrified. You, Ssetok, have thus slithered into town, under the guise of your giant serpent body, attended by your (3) beautiful pureblood servants.

What do you do?
You guys figure out what you want to do, I'm gonna make dinner, probably come back in a half hour.
we need to sell our goods before we can buy anything.
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The local women soon abscond at the sight of your massive length. Clearly, they are not cultured enough to know snakes are perfectly fine merchants.

You order the purebloods to construct a stall. They seem confused at first, until you mention the supplies in the wagon. They quickly abscond themselves, leaving you, giant snake, in the middle of town.

You begin to wonder what your plan was.
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As you contemplate your next step, a pleasant aroma catches your attention. Before you stands perhaps the cleanest peasant one could find in this land of monkeys.

He's masked, his expression unreadable, but his movements are clear. You've found a fellow cabalist!

>Sssssetok, you're too bold.

He knows your name!

>I'll be keeping watch on you...


As you begin to question the stranger, the sounds of alarmed peasants begins to fill the air, and before you know it, the fellow cabalist disappears.

It would seem a crowd is beginning to form around you. How do you react young Overhood?
>Maintain an invincible aura of imperious superiority
>Curl up into a pile while watching the crowd. Imperiously.
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You strike an imperious pose, coiled in the languid manner of your people. At first this disarms the peasantry, so unused to a creature in absolute CALM and SMUG. (Thank god for +3 charisma).

Using your innate magical powers, and imperious authority, the crowd of peasants are quickly calmed, and soon, interested in the novelty of your being. Long enough, for your servants to arrive, with all the material to set up shop.

(1) crate of rare spices, grown from the serpent kingdom of Najara
(1) canister of scrolls, of cantrip tier, from dazzling lights to simple light
(1) misc trade equipment (scales, weights, letter of trade, etc).

Sadly, a talking snake would be too much for these peasants, and must rely on the trade skill of your servants.
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You have at least (2) weeks of rations
The trade market seems quite stirred up.
Mudheim is known for it's WHEAT, TIMBER, and POTIONS. You doubt you'll make much profit...

What do you trade for, if any? There's always other services to procure...
>Peddle spices and misc equipment in exchange for currency
>spend some of the currency to acquire potions.
I think I'll leave it at that for tonight. Good luck on the quest.
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The trade is a success. Heavy silver and gold is easily changed hands for the rare spices, and with the merchant tools, you earn quite the reputation for fair trade.

(1) crate of potions, 24 potions of minor healing
Never know when they'll come in handy.

(Good night anon, thanks for participating)
For any players not familiar with forgotten realms, or D&D, here's a map I made of the various houses territory.
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With a heavy day of trade behind you, dusk soon begins. The peasants, once excited, are soon scurrying home, while a few layabouts make way for the tavern. You still have (1) broodguard to find proper shelter, as well as your large party of servants and thralls.

What shall you do? You still have your mission to infiltrate the town. Though you're in it, you must still find a way to empower the cabal.
Damn I'm not familiar with DnD Yuan-ti.
Time to google before I participate.
Quest seems cool QM.
The wiki is sadly very barebones on the houses. Most of this came from the "Serpent Kingdoms" supplement. You don't need to know much, but it is fun to see some obscure stuff pop up.
retreat and try and get proper disguise spells set up for next time
>leave town, prepare disguise
I know this is random but how is house sserades isolated if they are deep sea traders?
Hi anon, it's not a random question. Like I said earlier, the wiki doesn't have much on these houses, and I should've given a proper description.

House Sseradess was ousted from their traditional power base in Thindol. Essentially casted back into the sea. Their main holdings are upper underdark outposts and sea caves, whereas other houses are definitively surface settlements. Essentially they're divorced from other house politics. They trade pearls, alchemical seaweed, and fish to Thindol merchants as their main revenue. The benefit to this is they're not embroiled in the Cabal and Se'Sehen war, and can pick a side, or become their own power. I'll be posting in a few minutes soon again, so feel free to join!
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The girls were not so happy to hear the plan. Traveling the long hours, the tireless march through poor weather and rough terrain, to simply haul out of town was dissapointing to say the least. The sweet smells of tavern meat, poor by your standards of course, was tempting for their lesser tongues.

But you are Ssetok, an Overhood! Your word is law to purebloods.

And thus, by the time your party has found a suitable campsite, night had soon come. The peasant thralls were of course forlorn and bitter, yet resigned to their fate, as the broodguard lived up to it's name. The extra head was quickly consumed as well, making quite the suitable decoration. (GAINED (1) SKULL).

Breaking out the bed rolls, the girls were quick to prepare a meager stew, just as any other night. It is serviceable, and your party is soon fed. (LOSE (1) RATION)

There are many things to do, but alas, you can only rest, and regain your illusionary spells once more. The purebloods are only noticeable to the wise and discerning scholar, but your body is too obvious, what with your GIANT SNAKE HEAD.

But remember the mission, young Overhood! You must infilitrate the town, and find ways to empower the cabal. Your superior was mysterious in his order, but surely he knows the value of a small lumber town. But that is for tomorrow.

What will you do tomorrow?
send the purebloods back in as traders.
execute the 2 peasants. they know about us and we can't watch over them personally. we will hunt by ourselves to supply the traders with a continuous supply of products to sell.
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It all makes sense now.

The glory of the Vrael-olo, the chosen race, is here in this beautiful land of green and blue. Najara must grow fat, and we are the snake for the job.

Your orders were quickly given on the morrow. You sent two of your craftiest purebloods, off to establish a more permanent presence. You've given them the lion share of gold, both from yesterdays trading and your Najaran mint. The last girl was tasked with butchering the peasants. You'll miss the dumb labor they provided, but needs must as they say.


This camp will soon serve as your base of operations, meager as it is. But today you make ready for the hunt, with steel and fang, you're eager for the challenge of this new, wild land.

Come ho, loyal servant!

>Prairie Lands, can't take Broodguard.
>Explore the forest further, can take Broodguard.
>Wait out the day.
>Explore the river, upstream or downstream?
>Reinforce camp?
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I got bored, so here's a map for fellow enthusiasts.

To the far west, you'll eventually reach the serpent hills, or better known as Najara, Kingdom of Serpents. There is the power base of House Hss'Tafi, but is quite a distance away. Past the river you can briefly see the edges of the Forest of Wyrms, and to the east is the open prairie land known as the Backlands. And if you noticed, the cute little snake is you! Or, Ssetok and gang. The little fort is Mudheim.
>Explore the river downstream/away from Mudheim
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Though you are not a water breather, the leisurely river known as Winding Water was certainly appealing. You head off, under cover of an illusionary spell. You left behind the Broodguard, but in tow was your faithful pureblood.

What strange treasures await you two? Gold? Artifacts? Love? Or perhaps the very source of your furtive masters desire, for such a quaint little town. Regardless you head off.

You catch many sights along the trail, bargemen carrying wheat down to Boareskyr, and the many river hamlets as such. The land is rife with banditry as you well know, and long since this land has known the rightful might of the Vrael-olo.

Along the journey you spot sights of river logs, possibly sent from far Mudheim. There must certainly be a lumber mill close by.

You spot tracks coming out of the water, perhaps in packs of 3-4. You wonder what they could be.

You have traversed down (1) tile. It is now noon. What do you do?
investigate the tracks. if we dont know what they are, follow the tracks
Follow the tracksssss
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Though you're no ranger, the tracks were strange in origin. Almost, as if they were, giant logs slid across the soft river mud. You take the initiative, more curious than alarmed by their portent. Perhaps this is where the loggers dump their spoils, but this is near open prairie, with few trees in sight.

As you inch closer to the river shore, there's nothing extraordinary, save for an unusually numerous pack of river logs.

Wait, river logs don't come in packs. Do they?
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By Sseths name!

Ssetok you fool, those were never river logs! Those were BLACK CAIMANs, fierce river crocodiles, who have somehow lured you to the waters edge. And they look mighty hungry as well.

How will you resolve the situation?

>Outrun them, they're fat lizards.
>Speak to them, oh yeah maybe that'll work.
>Fight them, you did say you're going to be a hunter.

Good luck young Overhood.
draw back from the waters edge and try to bait them into fighting us on land
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Your battle instincts take over. Using tactical movement, you and the pureblood retreat from the waters edge, preparing yourself for battle.

The BLACK CAIMANs, are undeterred, moving out of the water with a purpose alien to their species. This is no mere hunger, Ssetok. What could drive these beasts in rage, so much to battle?

These are mysterious best left for the winners. Prepare yourself!

>Poison Spray
>Animal Friendship
>Longbow (you did say you were going hunting)
>Your trusty scimitar
>(1) Pureblood ally, similarly equipped.
>Animal Friendship on the one in the center
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By Mairshaulks balls, there's no other way around it. You employ the ancient powers of the Vrael-olo, the lingua franca all ophidians speak. Let us hope these dumb CAIMANs can understand your words.

The mind dialogue with such a beast is quite simple. Like a backwards peasant, the creature is slow to speak, it's voice coming out as a mighty bellow of confused guttural growls.

>oi fuck you mate

You plead with the beast to find a peaceful coexistance.

>eh fuck this

The beast has been deterred! Only (2) CAIMANs continue their amphibious assault. What else do you do?

Longbow them to death
how is this even a civ?
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The battle was legendary. The beasts hide was thicker than iron, most of your shots bounced off it's nigh impenetrable defense. But you were persistent none the less. Aiming for the CAIMANs vulnerable underbelly, it's abyssal eyes, and of course, it's gaping jaws cracking at every missed bite.

Yet in the end, the creature was no match for your dexterous skill, and before you soon laid it's motionless corpse, pockmarked with many, poisonous barbs and gashes.

Your fellow pureblood seemed to have had much difficulty with her prey, but somehow she was able to tame the creature with her ANIMAL FRIENDSHIP. You could barely hear it's mumbled, guttural grumblings, but it's safe to say the creature was persuaded by peaceful means.

(2) pacified BLACK CAIMAN
(1) dead water log
(1) mysterious laughter from the riverside
(1) exhausted quiver

Not gonna lie, I didn't expect the coiled cabal would win. They're a shadow organization, with cells often never interacting unless they're in actual Yuan-ti settlements. Give it time anon, if the players get a settlement/town, it'll transition over.
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Before you have time to assess your options, the sound of gleeful laughter surprised you. Who would find joy in the slaughter of random water logs? Leaving the pacified CAIMANs to the pureblood, you try to find the mysterious joker. Leading of course to some suspicious bushes.

How do you approach this new threat?
We could try to launch a fireball and burn a patch of trees then investigate the remains
pretend we didn't notice and go leave but check to see if anything followed us
Support >>4475502
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You were lost in contemplation, for what felt like days, pondering this great mystery. The BLACK CAIMANs were getting impatient, the pureblood was looking anxious, but of course as leader of this ragtag band, such is life.

After mulling over great matters, you've decided this obscure and most definitely dangerous threat is not your problem. You cast (1) mighty fireball, and sent the hellfire towards your perceived enemy. The giggling was quick to silence, replaced with reptilian hisses and curses.

(sorry for delay anons)
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By the great creator!

(2) OPHIDIANS have emerged from the burning wreckage of your spell. Cursing and patting each other with flailing arms, you were sure such beasts only roamed the great hills of Najara.

Before you could draw your mighty scimitar, one of the wretches hisses in it's barbaric tongue.

>Massster no! No ssslay kill hill.

The second was quicker to chime in.

>Loyal ssservantsss we are. No kill kill oh mighty one.

You've heard of the great loyalty and docility of OPHIDIANS, but did these creatures not plot your destruction? Looking them up and down, you're quite confident in taking them, but if the Backlands can surprise you, they most certainly can again.

What shall you do Overhood?

Current Party:
(1) pureblood
(2) pacified CAIMANs (will not attack unless attacked)
(You), emptied quiver,
(1) spent fireball.
Questions those snake ass bitches on what they were doing in muh bush. Also why they have daggers
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The mysteries of the Backlands is too infuriating to entertain with barbaric OPHIDIANs.

You put the fools to question, and they predictably squirm like cornered rats before the snake.

>Mercy massster!
>We flee from warlord Redscale!
>Yesss, warpath marchesss south, we ssslither here.

Warlord eh? Sounds like another petty lizard chief from the north marshes.

What do you do with the obvious turncoats?
>take their swords
>and their clothes
>put them in the wagon
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They were helpless babes before you. Meek and obedient as you stripped them of their weapons, but of their pride. You begin to contemplate the beauty of your latest prize when you heard a concerned cough.

>Master, how are we to transport prisoners...

What by Sseths balls is she blathering about? Clearly we have enough room in the wagon for such prisoners, and even for a few CAIMANs if we butchered the rest...
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What do you do young Overhood?
Tell the caimans to swim the river to our camp. If they're too dumb for that try to get them to stay in a safe bush or other hiding spot while we go get the wagon and come back.
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You begin to explain the plan to the rather dimwitted CAIMANs, but it just occurred to you how exactly your own party arrived here. It's doubtful the lazy brutes would commit to such a long land journey.
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It was a difficult round of negotiations. Through magical powers, the beasts were pacified from their unknown rage. But such magics were not enough to instill total loyalty.

Some outsiders would have found it humorous to see a snake headed man bicker with statuesque reptilians. But thus you did. The brutes were unable to swim to your forested camp, which lay north of the river bank, and you doubtless were going to convince them to swim to Mudheim for slaughter.

Using your best diplomatic skills, forged from years of service to mighty Najara, the deal was settled as such. In return for guarding the corpse of their once companion, you promised half the meat upon your return. If creatures stronger than man were to arrive, they will of course leave, and if you fail to return at all, they shall consume the meat as is.
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The journey was quicker than it was getting their. Though if any lone peasant were to spot you, it would spoil the whole plan to infiltrate Mudheim. Thankfully, Mudheim's main source of traffic was solely reliant on river boat from the looks of it, the Backlands being too wild and rough for regular caravans.

Conversation was short and terse along the way. The pureblood was of course used to it, but clearly the OPHIDIANs were not used to such silence. Their awkward attempts at humor, their barbaric tongue, was slowly beginning to grate on you. But you have a few uses in mind for them.

What is important is determining how to conduct any future hunting expeditions, and where to establish a proper base of operations. The camp is forested, offering decent protection if utilized correctly, but the mobility of the wagon is hampered by where the Broodguard can and can't go. (It being the main muscle in moving it).
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Letting your pureblood handle the prisoners, you find the camp with your remaining party. The brood guard looks restless, playing with the bones of the foolish peasants. The two purebloods have returned, and look quite pleased with themselves. Clearly, a day spent schmoozing with merchants and their soft beds have improved their morale quite well. They even have new dresses!

But now is not the time to dawdle on fine clothes. Business is at hand, and by Sseths will, it shall be done!

Things to do:
>Retrieve the CAIMAN corpse, (determine party comp. before going)
>Get the Ophidians to work (constructing camp)
>Request supplies from Mudheim (send the two purebloods away).
>Say fuck it all, go to bed eating the same slop as yesterday.

It is now evening, the sun is beginning to set. What shall you do, young Overhood?
>Grab the wagon and go get our caiman boys. We take everyone but the broodguard, one pureblood, and one ophidian.
>Make the one Ophidian left at camp do something useful under the watchful eye on the broodguard and the pureblood.
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Your decision has been made, your orders given, and finally the party splits into the coming night. The journey back was uneventful, it's silence broken by soaring eagles looking for a final meal, and the scurry of frightened critters. The day has had it's excitement, but are you truly getting closer to your goal?

What is your goal in fact? To infiltrate Mudheim, subvert it's leaders, and dominate in the name of not just Najara, but of the Coiled Cabal. Like all things, it comes in stages. First you become the great hunter of the land, and then the prestige to move in greater circles. There's more to Ssetok, than to mingle with petty frontier barons.

You stare off into the enveloping night, and envision better things.
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Back in camp, there is much activity. Dinner was swiftly served, and the young OPHIDIAN was put to work before she could enjoy any rest. With pick and spade, the Pureblood ordered her to strike the earth. What mysterious design does her new Mistress have? What of her sister, who vanished into the night?

The labor was hard and toilsome, but the OPHIDIAN, no, Kill was eager to do it. Long years in the swamplands of Chelimber, the cold nights out in the Backlands, have prepared her body for the toil. And though she worried for her sister Hill, her faith in the serpent gods gave her enough trust into these new masters.
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>oi, took ya long enough ye cunt
>ye, were fixing to eat ole steve.

Those were the sounds that welcomed you back to the river side. The CAIMANs clearly were entertaining themselves, joking and bellowing into the night with their usual gusto. It seems clear death has little meaning to them, so inured to the wilds torments and perils. But true to their word, the corpse of "steve" was indeed their, though of course a little decayed thanks to the evening sun.

Still, meat is meat, and you were ever eager to begin the butchering process. You had enough foresight to bring with you some cooking supplies, and begin stripping and salting the meat. Now that you're not in the midst of battle, you appreciate the sheer size of the CAIMAN, and have little doubt the portion left to you will be worth quite a small fortune in MUDHEIM.

(1) 100 GP crocodile skin + meat
(3) days rations (if you want)
(1) filled quiver

Of course, the boys may have been true to your word, but are you not the hunter in these strange lands?

>Slay them all, more meat am I right?
>No, we need friends in these wild lands.
>Ask them about the table.
>Return to camp.
(1) Crocodile skin + meat
Take them back with us to camp like we promised.
Gonna work on the next update tonight anon, but if I catch you earlier, can you please clarify? Are we taking the caimans back to camp, or just taking our due reward?
Let’s bring those bad boys home (alive and as allies). They seem like fine chaps and we need all the help we can get to start this fucking civ
Alright, just wanted to check. Will post later tonight.
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It was a comedic sight, seeing these lumbering beasts hopping inside of the wagon. You had the good foresight to unload it prior to your journey, and though the prairie was rough at times, the journey home was without issue.

You've certainly grown in numbers, this ragtag band certainly a strong force. And to your surprise a great hole has been dug in the center of camp. You were surprised to see a cheery looking Ophidian poking it's head out.

>Massster, massster look at Killsss new burrow!
>Much comfy it isss, won't you sssee?

Her barbaric tongue is still grating to the ear, it's sibilant lisp always a biting tone. But excelled she did at her task. Much like the great serpent gods, you enjoy sleeping in a warm burrow, as opposed to an open sky. Though not as opulent as Ss’khanaja, (the Snake Pit) of far Najara, the comfort was welcomed.
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The party rested a long time, enjoying what was left of the night under the warmth of the deep earth. You feel something strange, could this be the semblance of pride? Over a hole in a ground of all things?

You wake to the snoring of the CAIMANs, their bellowing demanding food and water, such lazy beasts they be. The day was fresh, and you have the fruits of your labor to harvest.

Young Overhood, it is time to fulfill your destiny. You feel confident in your strategy, simple as it may be. What shall you do? (I'm trying something new, please give feedback)

Choices for the MONTH (pick 2):
>Hunt and trade meat. (Pick locale: prairie, forest, or riverbank)
>Construct (Expand base, surface defenses, or ?)
>Explore Mudheim (Alchemist, Tavern, Baron's House, Fountain, or Dockside?)
>Talk to party member (who?)
>Start researching the people in the town using our traders. Look for someone we can blackmail and run them as a candidate for the head leadership position of the village. Alternatively, we can just directly mind control them if we have that kind of magic.

>Tell those caiman to stop being lazy bums and start working or they aren't welcome.
>Hunt and trade meat. forest
>Tell those caiman to stop being lazy bums and start working or they aren't welcome.
Rolled 2 (1d2)

Sorry anons, got a bit lazy today. Will post in a bit.

For the mean while, gonna roll dice to determine which choice. 1 for research and 2 for hunting.
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By Sseth's will, you'll suffer no freeloaders in your party.

It didn't take long, waking the bellyachers early one morning, shouting and cursing at their laziness, their slothfulness, and general uselessness. They tried to argue with such ridiculous concepts such as
>we got no hands boss
>how da fwack are gonna contreebute?
but you took no quarter from them. You had just the plan for the lazy brutes, and you reasoned it will solve both your problems.

Taking them to the forests local brook, you reasoned fishermen and watermen from the village must travel here occasionally. Lulled to safety with knowledge that CAIMANs don't inhabit the woods. They will learn to regret such a notion.

Armed in leather, (rightfully taken from the OPHIDIANs), their battle prowess was boosted considerably. Your plan; assault and slaughter any peasant foolish enough to come to the river side. If successful, they'll give a mighty bellow, and one of the Ophidians will come to collect the MEAT.

Hopefully, the peasantry of MUDHEIM, won't notice soon enough their numbers shrinking, and when they do, it'll be too late.
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Of course, man FLESH was not the only quarry you had to content yourself with. Though you were not trained in the ways of the forest, the poisonous frogs, plants, and other equally venomous snakes ill-affected you, thanks in part to your superior serpent blood.

The boars, badgers, and even the humblest of gopher was no match for your keen eye, and excellent sense of smell. And though the trading season was not yet to come, as Fall creeps closer, the ill-prepared forest creatures met a quick end.

With all this abundance of meat, it gave you time to sharpen you culinary skills. Though your tribe, your Ssrath, was but one of many lesser tribes to the Hss'tafi, yours prided itself on the culinary arts. Where others find distaste, you found joy in the work, the way the meat cleaved before you. But higher callings came, and now the Coiled Cabal you serve.

The Vrael-olo need you, and you shall serve. But first a prime loin steak from yonder peasant, with some rabbit jerky to pass the time.
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With the successful hunting season, your party has earned enough gold to purchase additional services/goods from MUDHEIM. With the string of missing peasantry, MUDHEIM's suspicion has raised to 10/100 (100 being they know it's you). Your quality meat steaks, and reputation for fair trade (through your pureblood intermediaries), has kept the suspicion off your tracks. But for how long?

UPGRADES: (Pick one)
>Pack animal (Horse, Cow, or Bison)
>Building Materials
>One Mudheim property (Dockside, Farmland, or village proper?)

Your CAIMAN ambushers are parked at the forest rivers brook, killing unsuspecting peasantry. Your purebloods are either working the markets, or at camp. The Ophidians are doing basic camp duties. The Broodguard is guarding.

What shall you do for next month, young Overhood? (Pick 2)

>Hunt and trade meat. (Pick locale: prairie, forest, or riverbank)
>Construct (Expand base, surface defenses, or ?)
>Explore Mudheim (Alchemist, Tavern, Baron's House, Fountain, or Dockside?)
>Talk to party member (who?)
>>Start researching the people in the town using our traders. Look for someone we can blackmail and run them as a candidate for the head leadership position of the village. Alternatively, we can just directly mind control them if we have that kind of magic.
>work on making money with the dockside business
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It's time. Using blood money hard earned, you've taken the leap to establish a foothold into MUDHEIM. Using your most diplomatic pureblood, NATASHA, she was able to purchase an old fisherman's hut from an old widow. She didn't mention what became of the widow, nor did you care. Business was at hand.

Scouting the dockside for a month, you've learned much of the locals and their strange, monkey ways. You now know there is a dockside tavern, which caters exclusively to the many bargemen, sailors, and occasional river pirate. Tales are told of the Lizardfolk up river, and you learn Mudheim is not the very last port before the hellish marsh of Chelimber. The owner is an old river pirate (he claims at least) with ill-reputation, with perhaps a few connections to old allies.

A local shrine to WAUKEEN, UMBERLEE, and VALKUR is near the docks main plank. Clearly, the bargemen and sailors are quite superstitious, and will pray to anything for a safe sojourn. There's little to do here, as the shrine is housed in a small building. You learn the Baron visits occasionally, and that it is tended to by his loyal scribe. Besides that, many trinkets and loose coinage is left here, which oddly seems uncollected.

There are (3) local business directly on the docks. Competition for sure, or a means of quick profit for the crafty. The business next to the dock tavern houses the Porters. Here freehands and other daytalers load the barges and occasional river boat. It appears derelict, for we have just passed the harvest season, and trade has moved on to fish. It is owned by a large fat man, who claims to have been born in the streets of far Waterdeep. Doubtful, but the man is quite capable of wielding his club.

The second business, which is at the far south of the pier, is the Shipwright. This small village makes little in proper ships or river boats, and practices maintenance instead on the many barges and fisherboats that come to dock. Business is steady, but such things can come to change. The owner is an old man, thin and weedy like an old stick. He claims to have been a shipwright from birth, and will pass on the business to his yet unwed boy when he passes.

The final business is the Launderers. This humble lady spends much of her time washing and cleaning the clothes and occasional drape for the townsfolk. Using river water, and locally made soap, she does her best, but as expected profit is low. Her biggest source of income is when the bargemen or odd river pirate dock. Captains tired of the stink will often force the whole crew to bathe, and pay handsomely for fresh cloth. In the off season, she practices tailoring and dressmaking.

And of course, there is the Portmasters Office. Technically, it is the Baron who owns it, but often you'll find his assistant running the office.
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Of course, a simple fishermans hut will simply not do. You must devise a means of generating not only profit, but of influence in the this pitiful village. You've consulted your purebloods, gleaming what useful schemes they've conducted throughout their time in the village.

Sasha, Natasha, and Katasha, all loyal, all Hss'tafi born, and born schemers even by Vrael-olo standards. If you were not already a MALISON, the thought of making a nest...

No time for that! Business must be done.

Sasha, prefers to run a simple scheme. She'll conduct a small cathouse, and from there, learn all she can from the villages higher ups and powerplayers. Effective, but the issue is finding loyal cats in the barrens. She doesn't seem keen on doing the play herself, let alone her sisters.

Natasha proposes she establishes herself as an importer, someone who can procure precious supplies from the "far south". Ignorant of their true origin, we can easily procure supplies from Najara, though the journey will be long and difficult. But silks and spices do go a long way...

And finally, Katasha proposes we simply expand our current operations. Though the village lives next to both water and forest, they live isolated. Rumors of OPHIDIANS from the west, LIZARDFOLK from the north, ORCS & GOBLINS in the eastern prairie, and of course GREEN DRAGONS to the south, has so frightened them, that few true rangers dwell here. We can establish a monopoly on animal products.

(Gonna let you guys pick this one)
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Of course, all these schemes will be put into action quite soon. But like all operations, you'll need to think of the future. Indeed, the power to corrupt individuals to your serpentine will is uniquely the domain of Hss'tafi. As a mere Cabalist, such a trade secret is kept tightly amidst the greater tribes. You'll need to establish contact with your cell leader, the Greater Overhood, to procure the recipe, or failing that, potions. But with such a power, you'll easily dominate the land. Yes, you're committed. By spending one of your lesser scrolls, a scroll of SENDING, modified to reach the ear of your cell leader, you dared to risk a message through. Using a cryptic language the request was made. Now we must simply wait for his answer...

In the meantime, please pick for the next months assignment.
>Hunt and trade meat. (Pick locale: prairie, forest, or riverbank)
>Construct (Expand base, surface defenses, or ?)
>Explore Mudheim
>Talk to party member (who?)
>Talk to townsfolk (who?)
> construct base
Do we even have a base from which to run things? Let’s dig a big hole in the ground and make it a nice and cozy home for our scaly needs
It ain't much, but it's basic. One underground room built by the Ophidian Kill, and a campsite based where we slaughtered our first bandit party.
>Start up the Ranging business
>Hunt for the ranging business and our own food with the caiman bois on the riverbank
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Rolled 87 (1d100)

There was enough labor to help focus on the base. Though what we had was at best a hole in the ground, even serpentfolk desire better! The Ophidians, Kill & Hill, were sent to the task during the month, as you, mighty Ssetok, led the boys back to the riverbank. With Katasha busy establishing the needed trade connections (and greasing what palms needed greasing) it left your remaining girls to help oversee the expansion. Your Broodguard as always, guarded. The occasional peasant leg or hammock was enough to content it. Unfortunately, the two months of indiscriminate slaughter of peasants, has effectively emptied the forest of any activity. Loggers walked in large groups, with heavy axe and strung bow on their back. Perhaps it was wise of you to move operations south, but regardless, Mudheim suspicion was raised to 20/100. They have not yet traced the mysterious meat merchant to the disappearances.

I forgot to mention pick two, so I'll get started on this portion of the update as well. In the meantime, DICE ROLLS, to see what mysteries await our party on the riverbank.
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The mysteries of the riverbank, were to say the least, quite dissapointing. For one long month, the boys practically frolicked in the riverbank, rolling across the muddy shore, bellowing guttural chants at passing fish and lonesome birds. You can't even be too upset, for most fish were too quick for their sluggish bodies to catch, so accustomed to prey coming to them. In the end, they merely guarded you as you casted your net and took potshots at fat bass fish.

That is, until that fateful day. On one lazy afternoon, there was a certain dread in the air. The boys were on the muddy shore, so used to being the top predators of the land. But you noticed it clear as day. Bubbling, from the very center of the river. Like a great geyser of air, the water was practically gurgling like the throat of a mighty giant. You were transfixed, unused to the sight of such a comical scene, and ill-troubled by the possibility of danger.
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Mother of Dendar,

You've never seen a CAIMAN so fucking huge before. It easily spans the length of most wagons, dwarfing the already girthy caimans you rightfully call boys. This is no mere animal, but an aberration from the abyss, the beast of the east, and crusher of dreams.


It already speaks!


Oh fuck. A quick glance back to your supposed guards reveals them eagerly awaiting the match. Their primordial sense have kicked in, the true form of primal, bestial rage has taken over. There is no allegiance in the wild, no code or bond. Only strength. You have precious few seconds, as the behemoth emerges from the water.

Young Ssetok, how do you handle the GIANT CAIMAN?

>Poison Spray
>Animal Friendship (I wouldn't bet on it)
>Your trusty scimitar
>(2) useless fucking guards
>Change to snake form
Blast him with a fireball then. Then try to snipe his knees with the longbow. If we have to melee him keep focusing on his knees using the scimitar. Once we get a wound we can use spray poison. When he figures out we are focusing on his knees switch to focusing on his elbows to cripple his arms.
This'll take me a while to photoshop, please be patient anon.
just draw it in microsoft paint if u want
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The beast wasted little time, charging at you with what could be only fiendish strength. An assault that would have seen you buried in the mud, your gut instinct was to match furious muscle with mighty spell. And worked it did, as the fireball was so powerful to have broken the charge, slamming the beat on it's back.

Seizing the opportunity, you began to draw your longbow, aiming to loose the killer shot. But by the GODS, as you began to take aim, a great GEYSER of water slammed into your chest. How, how could such a dumb brute summon such great power? The force was enough to down you, a stunned figure in the mud.

The peace was broken, as the GIANT CAIMAN grappled you. Your mind reeled in fear, for the beast was seconds away from the DEATH ROLL. Desperation took you, limbs flailing and slashing lamely against the scaled, leathery hide. But luck did not abandon you yet. Your trusted scimitar was quickly unsheathed, and by one final lunge, the blade bit deep into the beasts flesh.

But this did not stop the DEATH ROLLs onslaught. A ton of muscle could not be stopped so easily, and as the beast rolled, your body was stampeded by what felt like BISON. Yet as quickly as it came, the weight of all that flesh sunk deep the blade, causing a spasm of shock and bellowing pain from the monster.

The most desperate reprieve you desired was bought. Unleashing your racial power, your humanoid form shed it's inferior skin, and transformed into a mighty PYTHON. Dwarfed by the GIANT CAIMAN, you had enough length and strength to stall the beasts own killing power. It was soon a standstill, with nary an end in sight. Until you smelled the familiar, orchid scent, and knew the scimitars coating of YUAN-TI poison taking effect. Soon, even the heaving giant was brought low.
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Oops, didn't see your message.

The beast was heaving heavily, gasping for breaths of life, though it delayed the inevitable. You yourself can barely stand, the weight of a 1 ton monster rolling on you was enough to near shatter your bones. Yet you stand, wearily, as your snake form dissolves like mist in the wind.

>YOU FIGHT...alright...CUNT

A shallow bit of praise, but respect enough from the monster.


You weren't exactly expecting anything else. Such a monster, no, foe, could hardly be risked to live. It was only a matter of time for the poison to wrack its terrible work. It was but a testament to the warriors monstrous constitution to take each pulse as great as this.

But is this the proper end for a foe as mighty as this?

>Slay the cunt. He started it.
>Share a healing potion. {24 available}
>Just leave. There's no honor here.
>>Slay the cunt. He started it.
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You are one of the Vrael-olo, chosen masters of the world, and the superior warrior. No life is above you, let alone respect. You give the beast it's rightful end, and bask in the gory glory of it all. Mutant blood, the color of far Cormyr, shoots out of the dismembered trophy. Taking all your strength, you display the prize to the kneeling CAIMAN guards. Tis a glorious victory, and the spoils of battle are rich and many.

>1 TON of MEAT
>500 GP worth of scaled hide

Such a special encounter, will doubtless have many ways to spend your precious booty. What shall you do, young Overhood? Boast of your deeds, and bask in the monkeys admiration? You will alert them to your hunters presence. Simply sell the meat and hide in the market? Many valuable supplies can be procured, though doubtless an explanation will be required. Or will you simply feast like the Prince you aim to be, for weeks on such succulent flesh?

Choose one:
>Good eats.
Just a heads up, I'll be offline for a bit tonight, so updates only tomorrow for now.
gold we must not forget the mission
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Can glory feed your party, or build an empire? Nay, it is gold that greases the wheels of industry. Through herculean effort, the great behemoth was butchered, prepared, and sent to Natasha's dockside shop with much fanfare. Rarely do the peasantry ever taste the crocodilian devils, as they easily become the prey of their so called target. You expected much profit, but nowhere did you expect the BARON himself to visit Natasha's stall.

>Young Lady, do you know the significance of your act?

You of course did not attend this meeting, keeping your presence hidden from Mudheim. All this came to you second hand.

>You've slain the great CAIMAN of CHELIMBER, devil son of the LIZARD KING.

Never did you hear of such a beast holding a title, but the CAIMANs of this land hold many strange qualities. But what surprised you the most was Natasha producing a mighty sack of gold. The Baron apparently has offered to hire your pureblood servants as adventurers.

>Long have we suffered the depredations of the LIZARDFOLK; your slaying shall stir them to vengeance. Please, in the name of all the GODs, please end this threat.

A pickle if any. Apparently the gold given (250 GP) is a down payment, with more if the threat is vanquished. How shall we respond?

>Accept the quest
>Ignore the quest (the Baron will probably want his gold back)
>Take the money and run.
he wants us to kill our own people? or does he just mean more caimans?
I don't think we're allied with the lizard men.

>Accept the quest
This is our chance to become a bigshot around town.
I don't think it's a spoiler at this point, to say that the Lizard King is a Lizarfolk person. Yuan-ti =/= lizardfolk in the lore.
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Already wheels within wheels of schemes are turning in your head. There's much potential to be had in investigating the LIZARD KING, and what he represents. A heavy sack of gold is only sweet icing to the cake. From your old days in Najara, you know a little of the Marsh of Chelimber, though less of it's power players. How shall you prepare for this journey?

(You) Ssetok Yuan-ti Malison
(3) Purebloods
(2) Ophidians
(2) Caimans

(1) base cellar with bedrolls
(1) tent wagon (2 hexes per day)
(1) dockside shop selling meat

How will you plan your expedition? Will you take your full party? You will not generate income, for however long the quest will take. Will you leave enough members to carry current operations? Hire some peasant recruits, or some pack animals? You'll need to disguise yourself, or simply rule openly once out of Mudheim. Yes, many things need planning for this great sojourn.

Choices: (pick 2)
>Leave enough members to run Mudheim business (who do you leave behind?)
>Hire some pack animals (will increase travel speed)
>Full party expedition (no income until quest ends)
>Try to recruit peasant helpers. (roll 1d20 to determine number of recruits)

Unrelated update, I'm no longer unemployed, so updates will be shortened.
Full party
Hire pack animals
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You are committed. Whoever this mysterious warlord is, will require your entire arsenal. The benefits to this will be extra rations and meat, as there is little sense in leaving it to rot in the cellar. Your next step now is in procuring some valuable pack animals. The extra labor will increase the travel speed (current 2 hexes per day) as well as minor benefits.

You attended your purebloods to the village outskirts, where the various caravanners and merchants nest for the winter. One would ask why such affluent men would squat in a frontier town, but it is soon apparent they are either native born, or married to the land itself it seems.

Four men greet your party (while you disguised yourself in snake form). Though perplexed by your parties strange attire, they are at least familiar with the sisters and their meat stall. Words are exchanged quickly, and business is soon at hand. You have enough gold to make one purchase however, while the rest needs budgeting.

>(1) Bison Bull, powerful pack animal, accustomed to the prairie land. Can defend itself, but will be difficult to master and require more rations.
>(2) Cows, sturdy pack animal, accustomed to the prairie land. Docile, easy to handle. Cannot defend itself, and if frightened will stampede away.
>(2) Pack horses, quick pack animal, excels in the prairie. Boosts travel speed to 3 hexes.
>(4) Burros (donkeys), reliable pack animal, accustomed to any terrain (hill, forest, marsh). Will frighten easily, can carry twice it's weight.

Choose wisely young Overhood.
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One last detail of the trip that will require consideration, is how you shall travel to the Marsh of Chelimber, where the Lizard King likely lairs.

If you follow the Winding Water River, it will be the fastest route, especially now that the trading season is over, a bargeman can likely be chartered. Though you'll need to sail in dangerous waters, the closer you get.

The prairie land is flat, featureless, and will be the quickest land route, but the most dangerous if you are accosted by roving war bands. Your only defense will be in seeing the enemy war bands long before the inevitable battle.

Finally, the forest, will offer the most protection, but will reduce travel speed by (1). The forest will also offer you a chance to stock your supplies even further, as there's no guarantee the Marsh will offer any peace or comfort.

The choice, once again, is yours young Overhood.
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Rolled 65, 15, 31 = 111 (3d100)

Without further ado, the journey begins. Taking a short ferry trip across the Winding Water river, your party now stands upon the grassy plain of the Backlands, with nary a landmark for miles on end. Your wise decision to take the most visible land route has so far proven fortuitous. By giving the river a wide berth, very few CAIMANs or possible RIVER pirates will bother your little warband. And by emptying the bases cellars, you have more than enough meat to last the journey and back. But enough chatter, adventure awaits!
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The first leg of the journey was quite uneventful. But of course, this is as desired. Wide, open grassland revealing all enemies long before any combat begins. Such is the choice you desired. So unguarded you were, that you thought nothing of the rather large, granite like boulder before you. More curious, you decided to steer your party towards it, your mighty bull snorting a placid response.

For some reason you feel watched...
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You awake to find yourself in a dark, and hostile cave. The light of the morning sun does not grace your scaley head, and instead your eyes strain to catch any hint of an explanation. Only the terse grunts of the Bison remind you that you are not alone, and soon, even you too share in it's annoyances.

>Who dares to kidnap a son of Najara?

You shout into the void, feebly expecting a response.

>Silence spawn of devils. You are charged with trespassing upon royal Pelleor land. Only his holiness may pass judgement.

You try to find the source of the voice. The voluminous cave makes the squeaky sound near impossible to find. That is until you look down, and see not but a pack of prairie dogs looking at you.

Foolish creatures, what could they possibly do to a warrior such as yourself? Let alone a mounted one!

Young Ssetok, how do you react to the PRAIRIE DOGS?

>Boldly, for you fear nothing.
>Diplomatically, for you seek to charm them.
>Slyly, perhaps they are too dumb?
>Simply, easy comes, easy go they say.
If they don't fix what wrong was done to us and our party take one of them and squeeze it until the meat comes out from its orifices.
>>Slyly, perhaps they are too dumb?
>>Slyly, perhaps they are too dumb?
Alright lads, will update tomorrow. Stay tuned.
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There's a time for action, and a time for thought. The ways of the Vrael-olo, is first and foremost survival. You dared not show strength, against an unknown opponent, despite the opponent being the size of your left boot.

>Of Pelleor? Praise be his name, for I am but a pilgrim.

The Prairie dogs were visibly confused. Shuffling their tiny feet, and furtively checking their paws, as if unknown messages were being seen and written. Of course, the darkness and the higher stature did not make things easier. But surprised you did.

>Pilgrims are allowed...Devil-spawn. But his Holiness must decide on this.

Said the largest of the bunch. Which was not much. But your intuition has led you so far, and thus you followed your miniature captors. The large, thunderous beats of the Bison bothered them not.

Into the darkness your misshapen party went. Towards the deepest pits of an underworld thought lost to mans knowledge. Prairie dogs, everywhere. Their chattering and chittering noise like a storm upon the mountain. A strange tongue, made only for deft ears and quicker wit. What was once a small party was now a whole procession of diminutive people, for odd dress and misshapen tools they held in their little paws.

But this of course did not prepare you for the meeting with his "holiness".
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An abomination of the deepest pits of Najara could not compare to this beast of mangy fur, and simian skin. As the great ancestors of yore shed their furry hide for the illustrious heights of the Serpent Gods, this creature, this monster, was the opposite. A man in shape, a man in manner and thought, but of the ugly, bestial visage of the PRAIRIE DOG. Your thoughts were not prepared for this affront to all that is holy.

>Outlander, who are thou, who wishes to pay me homage?

Homage? So this must be famed Pelleor.

>Your most holy of beings, I've traveled far indeed, to see the sights of thy kingdom. Many league and mile to know the wonders of it's...people.

The creature nodded sagaciously, it's hideous, black eyes did not betray thought or intent.

>Thou speak sweetly, spawn of Najara, for your form lays bare before me. Why then, do you trespass?

It is obvious now the creature sees through your illusion. It's time for the ultimate gambit.

>My lord, though born I was to the devils of far Najara, I've done much to escape my dark origin. I quest the land for beasts wild and foul, and fell them righteously. Does not the humblest of Prairie Dog defend his home from beasts large and cruel? So too do I hunt a beast most intelligent and evil.

The creature stirred at last, upon this comment, though whether from great mirth or wrath, you could not discern. But shook it did, and the congregation of lesser prairie dogs trembled so.

>A righteous devil-spawn. How do you prove your claim?

He's calling your bluff. It's time to go all out.

>Mighty Pelleor, it was I who slew the Devil-Son of the LIZARD-KING, and bared his head to the terrified people of Mudheim, my foster home. Now I make quest for the land of it's father, to seek peace or death. Your blessing through these lands, is all I ask.
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Long did the feral theocrat ponder your words. What mysteries and magic did it ponder, if any at all. Who would believe a talking Prairie Dog, let alone a man sized giant in a pontiff cap. Only the most sun-scorched fools would ever come up with such a fantasy.

But speak at last did the creature.

"You speak half-truths, yet no friend of ours is the LIZARD KING, who threatens to salt the Backlands, our home, if he is left alone. Devil-spawn slaying devil-spawn, who else wins but I? Go spawn of Najara, with my blessing to die in the hell marsh of CHELIMBER. But slay only the CAIMANS and LIZARDS, or may PELLEOR strike you.

And like that, you awoke in the night under open sky, with the stars as your witness and a sleeping campfire. All around you, lays your slumbering party. You are no fool. Great magic was wrought this day, and you feel no less deterred from your quest. Too many enemies in foreign fields will be the death of you, best to focus on the enemy ahead of you.

Will post update tomorrow.
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After two days more days traveling the prairie, with past events long gone in your mind, you spot far in the distance a great brown blur across the golden sea of grass. The thunderous sound of hooves, the braying of young bulls, and the tremor of the earth was enough to tell you it was a local BISON HERD. Though you have arrows (poisoned as is tradition), it would be quite the risk to enrage the herd, especially if they decide to stampede. Your provisions are still well stocked, and you doubt the LIZARDFOLK will care to trade with you. But bison meat is still meat, and good bones and hides can be salvaged from a successful hunt.

What shall you do, young Overhood?
>Attempt to hunt.
>Avoid them, we got business to do.
>Follow the herd.
>>Follow the herd.
avoid them
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>Evens for follow
>Odds for avoid
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You knew better than to tangle with the wild BISON HERD, and begin leading your ornery beast on. But by Sseth, some mystical force was driving it towards the HERD. Bucking and braying, moaning noises you never heard from it's guttural tongue. Yet what surprised you more was the sound answering the unruly bull.

It seems, the mating season is still in, and your rebellious stead is attempting to challenge the leader for it's right to breed. By the GODS, you do not want this nonsense. Already, a stray heifer is committing the ritual dance, of looking yet not looking at your BISON. You've heard in far off SHOU, that this is what they call "tsundere".

How do you handle the disobedient bison?

>ANIMAL HANDLING (roll 1d20)
>Hop off and let em be.
>Try to capture the lone heifer. (roll 1d20)
>shoot it (WARNING, will alert the HERD)
Rolled 7 (1d20)

let him hump and we can take both of them with us
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You and your party struggle to find the adequate tools to capture or wrangle a 1 ton bison in heat. Needless to say, you fail to capture the heifer, as she is quite "indisposed" at the moment. But from one crisis to another, it didn't take long for the CHIEF BULL to arrive, roaring and charging at your disloyal steed. A BATTLE is upon him, it's fighting energy drained away from more titillating action. It will be no match for the SCORNED leader.

What shall you do?

>Fight the CHIEF BULL (will not involve the HERD)
>Try to capture the CHIEF BULL (roll 1d20, failure will lead to BATTLE)
>Hope your bull wins (roll 1d100)
dc for capturing?
QM here. Let’s aim for a 15 or better.
Rolled 18 (1d20)

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With deft rope and more guts than brain, you leap on to the raging bull, misdirecting it's great rage towards you, the bucking serpent. Scarcely a moment to think, the beast stomps and roars across the prairie. But an iron grip with enough rope to leash yourself holds you tight.

Faint glances show the HERD moving on. Whether by great fortune or the lack of a leader, the lumbering giants wander off. For all they knew, the wind was their leader. But too short a glance it was to dwindle on. The bison bull was losing steam it seemed, and for what felt like hours, your DEATH grip began to loosen. Yet fiery was it's temperament and for the greatest of moments, the thought of death trampling you was all too real.

But you weren't alone. Great weighted nets and flying rope came at the prancing bull, taxing it's already dwindling energy. It was over now, taking the effort of the party, the bison bull has been tamed, to an extant. One final look, shows the troublesome steed nuzzling it's cheaply won mate.

(1) Bison Heifer
(1) Bison Bull
(1) Pissed off Overhood (You).
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For better or worse, the party has now tripled it's number of steeds. It will take some time to jury-rig an extra harness, let alone keeping the two males from fighting. But such matters will be figured out long before the night is over. It's time now to march forward, ever onward to CHELIMBER.
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The days preparations began with little ado. The Bison were hitched to the wagon team, with one of the purebloods riding the troublesome Heifer, less they be distracted and ornery. You yourself, still sore from yesterdays wrangling, rode your original steed. With so many hairy brutes around, it's becoming difficult to keep track of them.

As you begin to come up with most likely creative, and very personal names that will last a lifetime, or at least the life of the bull. But trouble soon comes riding on the wind. To the far east, against the setting sun, do you spot a mighty dust cloud. But you've spent enough time in these Sseth cursed lands to know it is far from natural. An ENEMY warband, judging by the speed and direction (towards You). You have some time to prepare, so far away are they.

But what shall you do, young Overhood?

>Try to Outrun them (Unlikely, but roll a 1d100)
>Try to signal for parley (Maybe they're a friendly party?)
>Prepare for battle!
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>bravely run away
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The thundering of hooves accompanied frenzied shouts. The sound of ghoulish glee filled the air, as howls of madness beckoned for blood. With all your might, the bison stampeded at crazed speeds, the heavy laden wagon reaching it's breaking point. But it was futile, for the GOBLIN RIDERS were upon you.
The Bison are simply too slow. The mighty WORGS are too quick and nimble to outrun, especially a caravan of your size. The GOBLIN RIDERS are notching their bows, and their murderous intent is all too clear at this point. You must defend, nay, save your party from their depredations.

(2) Purebloods
(1) Pureblood rider
(2) Bison Bulls
(2) Ophidians
(2) Caimans
(1) You
(1) Broodguard


>Fight em head on (a direct charge!)
>Fight them from a distance
>Stand and fight
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Thread is at page 10, I figure now is a good time to put the adventure on hold (for now!). It's been fun anons.
It's been fun.

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