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In Victory's Shadow - A Barbarian Warlord Quest

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[X] Plan - D&D BBEG
-[X] [Origin] ... Sorcerer Kings.
-[X] [Defeat] ... the roving band of heroes fighting through them one by one.
-[X] [Gender] … man…T

[X]Plan-Magic
-[X] [Origin] ... Sorcerer Kings.
-[X] [Defeat] ... the Khans grand ritual failed and the backlash killed them all.
-[X] [Gender] … man…
 
[X] Plan - Lovecraftian Khanate

[X]Plan-Magic

[X] Plan - D&D BBEG
 
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[X] Plan: Shieldmaiden
[X] Plan: Steppe Horde
 
[X] [Origin] Vulture-Priest
[X] [Defeat] ... the roving band of heroes fighting through them one by one.
[X] [Gender] … person…
 
Preliminary count. Vote remains open.

Adhoc vote count started by Azel on Sep 7, 2024 at 12:01 PM, finished with 38 posts and 35 votes.
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Seems like a fairly solid lead for the Caribou Riders.
 
[X]Plan-Magic
-[X] [Origin] ... Sorcerer Kings.
-[X] [Defeat] ... the Khans grand ritual failed and the backlash killed them all.
-[X] [Gender] … man…
 
@Azel if a plan which doesnt give us magic from the start wins, will we be eventually able to get it later?(Recruit sorcerers, get tomes...)
 
Vote closed.

Adhoc vote count started by Azel on Sep 7, 2024 at 9:35 PM, finished with 45 posts and 39 votes.
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Prelude 2 - The Road Behind
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    • Adhoc vote count started by Azel on Sep 7, 2024 at 9:35 PM, finished with 45 posts and 39 votes.
    Click to expand...
    Prelude 2 - The Road Behind​

    A fresh dusting of snow was falling onto the world around you as Guoika carried you forward. The great caribou was much calmer lately as the temperatures kept dropping and the damp warmth of the south turned into something closer to the crisp chill of the north every night. The two of you were far from your homeland and had been for a while, so even such a simple thing felt comfortingly familiar.

    Though the road you rode on was almost becoming familiar too. Once more, you had ridden to the crossroads, expecting a messenger to pass by with word from what remained of the Gathering. Its numbers had thinned greatly over the last few moons and what had once been an irregular affair, the Gathering had been staying together for a while now. Even the mighty sorcerers and war chiefs that the Khan had gathered sought strength in numbers as theirs dwindled.

    Then the Khan had died and the Gathering briefly tried to give orders to what was left of his host. A difficult task, dispersed through the countryside as the host was in preparation for winter. Now though, they too had fallen silent. No orders had reached you for half a moon. The Sakka Jostil tribe was hardly big and important enough to warrant much attention, so you briefly thought they had just forgotten about you. But moving to a village closer to a trade route had not changed anything.

    For five days you had left with the first sun and waited near the road to spot a messenger. For five days you returned with nothing to show for it except a growling stomach and legs stiff from staying in the saddle for so long.

    As you returned to the village, the usual stares greeted you. Tents surrounded the first houses on the road and people were milling around between them, stopping what they did before to gawk. One group was from your own tribe, keeping lookout and watching you return with resignation. The other was the small number of Cappat Sealgi tribesmen that had come with you for the past moon. They still did not trust you in the slightest, despite the time spent together.

    After they lost two war chiefs and a fair number of warriors, the tribe had all but splintered. The gaggle coming with you was mostly warriors with a tiny herd and you could only guess what motivated them. About two dozen of them were fit to fight, but they had no leader and kept to themselves. Hospitality forced you to offer shelter to an allied tribe on raid, and they more or less still were your allies, though the question was for how much longer.

    In contrast, the Rukses Gahpir tribe camping on the western end of the village commons was fairly open about their desires. They had not even bothered to name their new leader war chief, instead declaring the raids done and planning to return to the steppes with their herds. With only about ten warriors in fighting shape by your count, it was easy to see why they had no further appetite for war.

    As your caribou carried you along the road, children began to surround you and start babbling questions. As usual, you ignored them while their parents or some matron came to get them out of your way. There was too much weighing on your mind and you absently ran your fingers through Guoika's thick pelt. He didn't like the children getting in his way while trotting, though you were not sure if you wanted to calm him or yourself.

    Things were tense and it became worse with every day. For now, the villagers were not eager to resist you, preferring to hole up in that temple of theirs and only coming out when something was demanded of them. But the larders were emptying and it was getting clear that they would not support both the villagers and your tribes for even half the winter.

    A choice had to be made and soon, though you were unsure how anyone around you would react if you were the one to make it. By numbers, the Sakka Jostil were by far the strongest here. No less than five dozen warriors and a large and healthy herd of caribou. The flip side of having been too far in the back of the host to take part in the plundering was that you likewise had been spared the losses many others had suffered already. As war chief of the strongest tribe, they all should easily followed your lead.

    And yet, you doubted. Your choice, yet to be made. Your leadership even. Unlike many you had met in Khan Doru's host, you could not look back on decades of leading your people. It was not all that long ago that you were…


    [] [Youth] ... taught to lead by your father.
    Before your own ascension, your father had been chief and perhaps one of the best the Sakka Jostil had in living memory. It was unusual for the child of a previous chief to be picked by the tribe to lead them, as the people saw it as one family seizing power from the tribe at large, though his certainty that you would make a fine leader one day helped you greatly. You always tried to live up to his hopes, valuing his lessons on how to lead and argue instead of relying on the strength of your arm to force your will onto others.
    Skills: Leadership+, Diplomacy+

    [] [Youth] ... a humble artisan.
    You spent most of your youth with little ambition towards leadership, instead pursuing skill in bone carving and leather working. There was little room for frippery in your homeland and things had to be functional first, pretty second or not at all. Nonetheless, you had a good hand with the knife and from that sprung success in haggling and trading with the merchants and clansmen your tribe occasionally did business with. An uncommon set of skills for a war chief and one that came in quite handy when dealing with the realities of being part of a roving army in the southern lands.
    Skills: Diplomacy+, Trade+

    [] [Youth] ... a shaman's apprentice.
    While there was only ever one shaman in the tribe, they took many apprentices to ensure their skills were passed on. How to honour the gods properly, read the signs they sent to mortals and the secrets they had given the people to live in their harsh homeland. You had not felt the calling to become a shaman in full, being too attached to worldly matters to completely dedicate yourself to the studies, but you learned plenty none the less and the old wisdoms and hidden truths of the world served you well as a chieftain.
    Skills: Sorcery+, Learning+


    These doubts were hardly new. You had them for a while after being named chieftain, though you thought that you had overcome them for good as you had settled into your role. Having followed Khan Doru and seeing him fail so utterly had brought them back. It had become much easier before your mind's eye to dismiss your achievements and only see your weaknesses, like that you were…


    [] [Weakness] ... too trusting.
    Your people were straightforward and duplicity punished harshly, making it rare that you had to deal with liars and cheats. Once you had met the Khan's host though, you were startled just how many of those existed in its ranks. Constant petty infighting seemed normal among the southerners and you kept struggling to know whose words you could accept as truth and who was planning to betray you for the faintest of advantages.
    Skills: Intrigue-

    [] [Weakness] ... too blunt.
    Needlessly wasting words on simple matters had never come easy to you and neither did you ever understand why others insisted on doing so. The truth was the truth and should be spoken as such, even if it was uncomfortable for some. For some reason though, few people seemed to appreciate that habit and even some of the nomad tribes of Plavylug had called you a rude barbarian for it.
    Skills: Diplomacy-

    [] [Weakness] ... bad with money.
    Bartering was simple and straightforward, but when you had listened in on some Sea Clan traders discussing these things they might as well have talked about sorcery as far as you were concerned. It just sounded so very complicated for no good reason and the way they spoke about "bookkeeping" just strengthened your resolve to leave those matters to other people.
    Skills: Administration-, Trade-


    They had chosen you in the end though. Twice even. Once as the chieftain and then once more as the war chief when you had sworn your tribe to the Khan's banner. And for all the uncertainty gripping the tribe, none had so far voiced any desire to replace you. They truly trusted your judgements, even if you had often felt that what had gotten you elected in the first place was mostly …


    [] [Achievement] ... the daring raid in the south.
    For all the effort that went into maintaining the frontier walls of the southern kingdoms, it could be quite easy to slip through them. One winter, you had heard from a trader that two petty lordlings in the south were feuding to the point where blood had been spilled and with some other daring riders, you set out to make a fortune. The traders brought your offer to one of the lords and a fortnight later, you were let into the south to raid his enemy, leaving a month later with plenty of riches in your saddlebags.
    Skills: Warcraft+, Intrigue+

    [] [Achievement] ... slaying a Stallo.
    After one of the harshest winters you had witnessed, a Stallo had been spotted near your tribe's grazing lands. The bloodthirsty giant gave no sign that he would return to the frozen mountains and its haggard appearance made it clear that it was maddened by hunger. While most wanted to simply leave the area for other pastures, you argued that slaying the beast was easier than finding new grounds for your herds. With a spear in hand and some bold archers to distract it, you faced the creature and returned with its skull in hand to your people.
    Skills: Prowess+, Warcraft+

    [] [Achievement] ... brokering peace with another tribe.
    When a few of your caribou disappeared and another tribes scouts were spotted near your lands, there nearly was a war being assembled, had you not dared to speak with them. They too had lost caribou and blamed you in turn, though over the course of a moon, you managed to convince everyone that it was likely a beast that had slain the caribou and that war between your people would have been pointless.
    Skills: Leadership+, Diplomacy+


    Guoika was not entirely oblivious to your ruminations. He sure took his time to move through the village and to the manor house overseeing it from the hill. Who the lord of this place was, you had no idea and neither did you care. The man had not been seen for moons by the villagers and it seemed he was not well liked either as they cared fairly little that you were pitching your tent there and using the halls. Smoke was coming from the chimney, carrying the smell of roasted meat and apples to you.

    A short tuck on the reins made Guoika stop entirely and you gazed up at the stars slowly showing themselves on the darkening sky. The breeze was cold and carried the faintest smell of the sea with it. 'What to do?' You asked yourself and the stars, almost hoping the gods would show themselves and tell you the right path to follow. An unlikely thing to happen and in the end their attention was just as likely to make your lot worse than it was to improve it.

    As you slid from the saddle and stretched your stiff legs, you nonetheless vowed to make some offerings the first chance you got to your patron…


    [] [Patron] ... Beaivi, the goddess of the sun.
    Worshipped by all tribes in the north, Beaivi receives many offerings and celebrations. In spring, she and her daughters are given gratitude for banishing the winter. In summer, people thank her for the warmth and growth she brings. The most fervent please though are spoken at the winter solstice, when people plead for her to return soon. You remember pleading with her to make you grow tall and strong when you were a little girl and have shown your gratitude for that gift ever since.

    [] [Patron] ... Jabme Akka, the lady of the dead.
    Rarely invoked outside of funerary rites, Jabme Akka has often been reviled by many tribes. While she cares for the dead and will protect them for the right offerings, she also is the patron of the vile sorceries that call back the twisted spirits of the deceased as servants. For you, she has always been a goddess to be feared and respected in equal measure and you hope that she will remember you kindly when your time has come to cross into the other world.

    [] [Patron] ... Lihkku Akka, the lady of luck and fate.
    Only a fool would not pay homage to her when granted a boon by her, but only the greatest fool would draw her attention willingly. Hers is the clinking of dice and the arrow that only grazed your skin, but she is also the mistress of tragedies and shattered hopes who gambles for mortals souls with Jabme Akka. Something you could never name drew you to her since you could walk and while she seemed no more or less helpful or cruel to you than to others, you sometimes dread the day you will find out what connects you to her.

    [] [Patron] ... Hora, the smith and warrior.
    Maker of tools and slayer of monsters. Hora is rarely depicted without his two iron hammers, which summon lightning and thunder when struck together and which felled many fell creatures. After a Stallo tried to steal his hammers to weaken him, he slew the creature and made an unbreakable rope from his beard to tie his hammers to himself. You had always striven to become a great warrior like him and like many of his followers, you wear a necklace made of hair with two iron hammers woven to it.

    [] [Patron] ... Vuovdaisit, the master of the forest.
    The old man who dwells in the trees and knows every secret, good or ill, that the forest ever witnessed. Shamans sometimes plead to him for knowledge, while hunters ask for his blessings to find the best quarries. He can appear as any creature that he wishes and has a feud with Hora ever since the warrior mistook Vuovdaisit for a regular bear and struck him with his hammers. You have often called to him for knowledge and guidance yourself and a certain that he subtly answered those please a few times.


    That was for the future though and as you took the reins and saddle off Guoika to let him join the herd, you focused on the options before you. Waiting any further was not one of them. Every day you waited, the people ate and the travel provisions available to you shrunk. Sure, you could instead have tried to gather more warriors to your banner and attack the nearby city, as the Khan had originally planned, but that seemed all but impossible with his host being scattered by the wind before your very eyes.

    Taking your warriors further south would have been much easier. Fertile farmlands waited there, only lightly defended most likely and there was little risk of any reinforcements coming to their aid. The southerners did not fight well even in the mildest winter, while you felt the weather in these lands to be barely an inconvenience. There would be plenty of plunder to be had before spring forced you back to safer lands.

    Of course, that was only true if things were as usual. Now though, there were other tribes, clans and sorcerers in the area that might have been much more dangerous than some southern peasants with whatever pointy stick they could muster. To stay in the south at all meant fighting with them over whatever spoils there were to be had and to be drawn into whatever power struggle would be the legacy of Khan Doru.

    Which left returning to the wastelands. The steppes most likely, since you needed a winter quarter and with so many nomads gone, there should have been plenty of grazing lands in reach before the snows forced you to make a permanent camp till spring. Though if the other tribes returned just as quickly as you did, the risks might have been severe. Your tribe had not the numbers or the supplies to fight over hills that had barely enough shrubbery for a few caribou.

    No matter what, there were risks. Plenty of them. But you were the war chief of the Sakka Jostil and they would follow you. Maybe, if you managed to convince them of the wisdom of your actions, the other tribes would too. By the time you were done packing away your saddle, you were ready to face them in the manor.

    You had decided to…


    [] [Action] ... to move south.
    You needed provisions for the winter and preferably some coin to show for all the troubles that joining the Khan had brought you. Both were plenty in the south. You just had to be ready to fight for them.

    [] [Action] ... to stay and gather strength.
    Even if food was an issue if you stayed, it was an even greater one if you decided to travel into the unknown. The tribe would stay here, raid and talk with others, and once your numbers had grown enough, you would attack the southerners' city and feast the winter away from its full larders.

    [] [Action] ... to move north.
    The Khan was dead and so was this campaign. Only death and misery would await those staying and trying to scrounge for scraps. You would pack your things and return to the wastelands. Maybe you would even be able to profit somewhat from the fact that so many had left.


    AN: This kept growing and growing. After this, char gen is wrapped up. Take note that the choice of a patron deity has no direct mechanical impact, but it will impact the narrative. Potentially heavily so.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • [X] Plan Cool Plan Name

    [X] [Youth] ... a shaman's apprentice.
    [X] [Weakness] ... too blunt.
    [X] [Achievement] ... slaying a Stallo.
    [X] [Patron] ... Beaivi, the goddess of the sun.
    [X] [Action] ... to move north.
     
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