Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Against the Stag Lord! : Information you have learned so far.

Capturing the 2 bandits alive in the Stag Lords camp and questioning them profusely has revealed a good amount of useful information about The Stag Lord, His Fortress, and his Lieutenants. The information here should be used to plan the Assault or Infiltration of the Stag Lords Fortress. Please feel free to post comments to speak amongst each other in character while making your plans.

- The Stag Lord makes his home in an old Fort built by the Taldan Colonists some years ago. The fort is land based on three sides with the 4th being next to a large Lake of some kind. All of the sides are reinforced with walls and towers making it extremely defendable. There is only one road leading into the fort itself.
- The Taldans built the fort on an ancient burial ground. Anyone approaching the fort from anywhere off of the round disturbs the cursed land and is set upon by ravenous undead. Any encounter with the Undead outside the fort will immediately alert the forts defenders who will aid the undead in killing the intruders.
- Besides the Stag Lord himself the fort currently houses his 4 remaining Lieutenants aswell as around 30 other bandits (Give or take a Couple). From what you've seen the bandits are actually quite well trained  defenders and could pose a large obstacle when encountered in such large numbers, especially from the walls of such a fortified location.
-Because of the number of bandits that flock to the Stag Lords banner it is difficult to keep track of who exactly is working for the Stag Lord. The bandits use a Master Phrase and Answer system to identify themselves as servants of The Stag Lord when attempting to gain entry into the fort. The current master phrase is : "By the fury of St. Gilgamore who calls my name!?" With the answer being " Who in the hell is St. Gilgamore".

The Stag Lord :- A monstrous man and a mean, seemingly permanent, drunk the Stag Lord is feared, loathed and respected by all those under his banner. A deadeye with a Longbow the Stag Lords servants seem to think the man blessed by Old Deadeye himself and many claim to have seen him do impossible things. It's also rumored the Bandit Kings stylized Stags Helm is actually the mans face! Half of what he used to be and never right in the head the Stag Lord maintains his power through brutality and fear. He remains unchallenged however as apparently even drunk out of his mind the man still has a great deal of fight in him.
Yikory the Master of Hounds:- The Stag Lords 4th ranked Lieutenant Yikory maintains the Stag Lords collection of "Hounds". He is the master of 8 of the creatures as of now and they are all housed within the fortress. Yosser Wilcryn has determined that these hounds are Domesticated Thycrines, which are dangerous pack predators in the wild.
Auchs:- A lumbering lumox of a man and the Stag Lords 3rd ranked Lieutenant Auchs is rumored to have Giant Blood in him. He is overly simple minded when it comes to any subject except cruelty as he delights in the sounds of sobbing and cries of pain that come from victims of his "Interrogations".
Devon from Nikras:- Second ranked Lieutenant and Deadly feared for his mastery of swordplay Devon has been with the Stag Lord for over a year now. He is definetly a wierd sort of man but noone questions his words, especially since Auchs seems to be willing to crush any man Devon becomes unfond of.
Akiros :- A fallen holy man of Erastil, Akiros came to the Stag Lords camp a mere 4 months ago. His cunning and prowess as a brawler have seen him rise quickly to the 1st rank among the Stag Lords Lieutenants ( much to the annoyance of Devon). Akiros seems a quiet sort normally but in battle seems to have a death wish. Niether bandit interrogated has ever seen him draw the longsword he wears on his side, nor has either ever seen the man ever take notice of any injuries he has received in his battles.
Through Knowledge History the PCs learn that Akiros is from a Southern land where he once served Erastil as a paladin. He was well loved and respected until one day a woman stepped forth and accused him of forcing himself on her! In a fit of rage Akiros struck her, killing her in one blow. To escape he also attacked the man that she had brought with her as witness, beating him to death before fleeing into the wilderness to bear his shame.
Old Man Locked in the Basement :- Apparently the Stag Lord keeps and elderly man locked in the basement of his fortress. The bandits dont know who this man is but one thinks that he is the power behind the throne... looking into the mans eyes he said showed him what true terror was...

3 comments:

  1. Memoirs of Flynn Mobious Magnomir: Ecology on the Fair Folk of the Wider Greenbelt Region. Also Titled: Cataloging the Uncategorizable.

    To study the Fair Folk, also known as the fey, is to answer a wizard's highest calling - to seek answers. To try and understand the fey, is to court Insanity itself. The fey exist in perfect harmony with contradictions, believing that A = A as well as A = B, A=C,D,E etc. To the fey mind, there is no concern for this invalidity. To them, a contradiction is just as acceptable as a quantifiable fact. I restate this observation ad nauseum to preface these ecological reportings and say - the information within is entirely valid, and invalid at the time of their writings, and for future researchers, all findings will likely be entirely useless in all dealings with these fey going forward.

    My studies focus on two individuals. Due to their fervent belief in the power of names, however mundane, I have agreed to document them only as "P", a faerie dragon, of indeterminate age, and " T", a female Grig. Lastly, we will  briefly discuss the Greenbelt Mites, a now deceased, invasive species of fey.

    Worthy of note, is that all species classification is unknown to them.  "P" does not recognize himself as a 'faerie dragon' as I recognize myself as a human. To P, he is simply one of the Fair Folk who has one of their varied shapes. Neither does "T"

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  2. recognize herself as a Grig. At speculation, their species classification may have been derived from names given to them by elves or gnomes, both of which are believed to have their racial origins from the same world as the fey. As of this time, I have no evidence to back up this theory.

    The Fey, as chaotic and unorganized as they are, seem to have a strict set of laws, as a race, based on superstitions. Scratch the word law, and instead substitute it for 'rules'. At first glance, I believed that "P" was playing an intricate prank on me, making negotiations difficult between us. Upon offering both "P" and "T" an exchange of salted pork for information on the Greenbelt region, both blanched at the offer in tandem. They explained that eating salted meat that had been carried more than 7 miles from it's point of origin was a great taboo for their people. It was when they both made the same disgusting look that I realized, "P" was not being intentionally difficult, but that there it exists a complex set of rules that governs fey actions. They refuse to carry copper across running water, although silver is fine in any form, but gold may only be taken if it is in it's 'raw' form ; one must never walked backwards encircling an Oak tree ; no matter how thirsty, rain water may only be consumed from greenery whose stem is in direct contact with the earth - the list of 'rules' is seemingly endless, and yet they seem entirely aware of them. These nuances are what make the fey maddening to try and catalogue.

    Bartering seems to fit well into the fey system of living. They understand the value that information has, but no concept of material wealth as measured by the civilized races. If offered an entire library of books in exchange for knowledge about the nearest river, they would just as soon turn it down, only to eagerly accept a well-polished silver piece.
    There does seem to be a significant preference for "shiney things". Of course, size is always an issue. A tiny fey far from it's home has little use for an alchemically silvered greatsword, which it cannot carry. When bartering with the fey, start the bar low. They will often trade valuable information away for relatively little, but once a standard has been set, all negotiations there out will begin at that.

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  3. I have yet to observe their dietary habits in great detail. They seem not to care for the meat of once living animals, finding it distasteful, but as to date, I have only offered them salted trail rations. They remain unimpressed by crackers and cold bread. Tea seems to be something of a delight for them, and they will gorge themselves to immobility, regardless of the flavor - bitter, sweet, savory, or tangy- makes no difference.
    On personal habits and morality, the fey I have encountered are flighty, with very limited attention spans. Averaging 15 minutes, they quickly become bored with us 'tall ones', and seek to leave for other forms of entertainment. "P" and "T" seemed good natured enough - but they admittedly sought carried out an act of revenge on an area trapper who mutilated "T" for playing a harmless prank, drawing crude pictures of his tools. In retaliation they used innate magical abilities to drive the trapper into a paranoid state, in which he ultimately succumbed to starvation/thirst. Even those with seemingly "good" morals can be driven to intentionally mean ends. Although they refused to go into great detail, "P" advised that there were many fey who were evil to the point of sadism. Just mentioning these dark-suited cousins seems to cause them the same level of discomfort as discussing boogey-men with human children.
    In brief, we will discuss the Sycamore Mites, a race of gnome-sized, blue skinned fey. These creatures maintained a vile lair beneath an old sycamore in the Greenbelt region. Living amongst their own waste product, they showed a penchant for cowardliness and stupidity. They posessed a empathy towards giant centipedes, whom they raised in their lair's largest chamber. By focusing their glare, their eyes can take on a mean squint, causing a sense of forboding in their enemies. There was little else of note about the mites, who were easily dispatched by myself and my traveling companions, and the world is a better place for it.

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