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Kingdoms of Legend

Reader mode
With everyone's rolls we're now ready for turn 2! If it goes up tonight that would be nice, but probably closer to tomorrow afternoon Chicago Time.

Also going forward I'll be giving out development counters. These are vague countdowns that start at like 3 or 4 and go down by 1 each turn if the right things are triggered. If I give you a countdown in the DM, please keep track of it for me, and when it hits 0 something beneficial to your kingdom or servant will happen
 
Z: *shrugs and just farms chestnut trees because they grow faster and they're great for structural work*
 
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Turn 2: The First Stirrings of the Land
  • Threadmarks
    • Ulfyre
    193 A.E.




    ​

    Now in the 2nd century after the great exodus, in the west, past the Tyber mountains, was the land of Ulfyre, once home to the great kingdom of the Lehvant. Before the events that shook the world the kingdom was already in decline, and it surely did not survive the great migrations of tribes and peoples that happened after. For the next two hundred years war and strife would lay low the wonders and beauty of Ulfyre, and wipe away the traditions and knowledge of those who migrated there. The only remnants of the Lehvant kingdom that survived were a city to the southwest in the Brettin Bogs, and a city in the northeast in the riverlands. Coincidentally both the domains of necromancers. And it was not just war that filled the earth with corpses and scattered the wise, but famine and sickness as well.

    But in time those that survived the fighting and the starvation and the plagues found a place for themselves in Ulfyre. Among these were many monster tribes, hard-pressed from the exodus but no strangers to war or death. The underdweller tribes were present as well, both goblin and dwarf, those that had endured the troubles that seeped into the earth. The aforementioned necromancers, sitting in the new and old capitals of a once-great kingdom. Then there were the elves and the fairies, who had settled in the Greshnere wood after their kin had gone mad. Lastly the single tribe of mortals who had managed to endure where others had not.

    But after so much bloodshed and loss, one must ask if it was worth it to be one of the small tribes that managed to survive. The precious knowledge of their ancestors buried, survival relearned through painful trials. So why Ulfyre? What did these kings and masters see in the land that made the struggle worth it? To answer such a question one needed only understand what the rest of the world of Oren looked like at the time.

    It was burning, and had been since the Exodus.

    So Ulfyre was indeed a prize.


    @I just write
    (1) The Sorcerer of the Riverlands

    "What do you mean that's not bursmith!" the robed man exclaimed. He gestured wildly with the satchel he held. "Can you not tell your eyes from your ass! Trying to swindle me are you??"

    The merchant was unfazed. He glanced around at the other stalls in the market. The other merchants looked back sympathetically. It was a busy day in the settlement, with travelers coming from all over to barter and trade. It was one of the few safe places along the Kline River after all. But the robed man, dressed like one of the old learned scholars of the east, was clearly out of place.

    "I don't know what to say," the merchant said, shrugging. "I'm not buying what you're selling. That's not bursmith, that's some other weed."

    The robed man stomped his foot. "Ridiculous! Do you know how long I scoured the forests for these! Lands, I might add, where there are ogres and harpies and worse!"

    The merchant took a deep breath and sighed. "Not my problem, move along, you're scaring away people who won't waste my time."

    A low murmur built up around the market. The robed man ignored it. Instead, he opened his satchel and dumped the contents on the merchant's table. It was a collection of purple flowers. "Look! Look with your eyes! Tell me that is not bursmith! Any one with half a brain could see it is!"

    Instead of answering, the merchant backed away with a fearful expression. The robed man furrowed his brow in confusion, then turned and looked behind him. The market was empty. The stalls were shuttered. The only figure in the dirt path between buildings was a metal object that size of a man. It seemed to float several inches off the ground, and at its top was fashioned the face of a woman. It was like an iron bell, a ghostly herald.

    A strangely sweet voice echoed out of it. "Hello, are the Hassid scholar I've heard so much about?"

    The robed man swallowed. "And...and if I am ghost? What then...?"

    The iron maiden laughed. It sounded amused, but also hollow. "Well then," Bellonie said. "Please, come with me. There's someone I'd like you to meet..."


    -Did you hear what happened to Lord Sorceress Fay's favored servant Isov?
    -No! Pray tell, you speak of the poet, the one they say kept his beauty even in death?
    -That is the one. They say he traveled up the banks of the river Kline to seek someone out.
    -No! Tis a terrible stretch of water! Not like our fair city of Caurlem, kept safe by the Lord Sorceress!
    -Indeed, and he was beset by river pirates not even two days walk.
    -Tell me you lie! What became of him?
    -No worse for the wear. They say he is loathe to fight but can do it well if need be. Still, it surely set him back.
    -Surely.


    @JbeJ275
    (2) The Elf Lord of the East

    There is little written on Tamric, nephew of High Lord Renark of the Yewhold line, at least not in the early years. What is known is that he was mentored by his foster father and En, a great and powerful creature. He was also responsible for raising the first warhost of the Greshnere wood in many decades. Other then these few snippets, the songs and legends only tell of a young elf with few friends and even fewer words. At least, that is how it was in the early years of Renark's riegn...


    The forest waved in the breeze. It was a clear day. A windy day. A day in which anything not rooted was swept away to distant lands. En could smell the restlessness in the air as she perched on a branch. The fey creature closed her eyes, savoring the sounds, then opened her wings on her back. This motion startled several fairies that had gathered around her. The tiny creatures flitted away, yelling and chiding at her in their tiny voices. En blew a puff of air their way, scattering the fairies further.

    "Be gone you lot," she said. Despite her words, her voice had been kind, gentle. En vibrated her wings and took off. The fey creature soared over the green canopy, startling birds and insects alike. Her eyes scanned the Greshnere wood, searching for her prize. She finally found it, a large tree, barren, and sticking up like a crag among the healthier canopies. En dove straight for it. She blew past branches and tore through leaves. Suddenly she was near the ground. En stopped suddenly, curving up to hover over it. Before her was the barren tree. In its base, a large doorway.

    En landed and approached. Her garments of sewn hide and silks trailed behind her, and her wings pressed down against her back. The door opened before she reached it. A tall man with antlers growing from his forehead stood in the frame.

    "The answer's no."

    En came to a stop and smiled. "I haven't even asked my question Nolin."

    "The answer is still no. I won't serve that elf. Not him or his coldblooded nephew, or any in that highblood court."

    En regarded the deer-man, her smile growing amused. "No one said anything about serving. Think of it as a favor, to an old friend. One you will be rewarded for."

    Nolin glared at her, but his expression quickly softened. "We were never friends o' great En..." he turned away. "I worshiped you...me and all my kin...and now you serve..." he gestured vaguely at the forest. "Him..."

    "I do," En said, her smile fading. Her expression grew saddened, but also thoughtful. "And so I come to you not as one you gave thanks to, but a simple fey, who has few others to turn to in these times..."

    The deer man remained with his back to her. A tense moment passed. Finally Nolin exhaled and turned back to her. "Fine. What does that elven lord want raised from the earth this time..."



    @CommanderBlade
    (3) The Wild King of the South

    A gathering of satyrs, boarmen, ogres, and harpies argued loudly. Their voices echoed around a large cave, causing a great racket and threatening to turn the disputes violent. Near one end of the cave was a low, dark opening. A loud hiss echoed out from it. The gathering of monsters quieted down. Slowly, a large, shadowy shape emerged from it. It reared up, illuminated by the large amount of torches throughout the cave.

    It was Ozymanna, the great serpent. All eyes gazed at him, a tension in the air. The giant snake's tongue forked in and out of its mouth as it gazed down at the gathering. "Now then," he said, his low voice worming its way around the cave. "I have kept you waiting, and you have been patient. Let us speak of why you are here."

    An ogre narrowed his eyes. "Yes...let us speak. Is there news? Why must I share ground with feather-eaters and pig-fuckers!"

    The cavern erupted in noises. Several harpies took flight and tried to claw at the ogre's eyes. The monster growled and swatted at them with hardened fists. Ozymanna watched. The giant serpent had a small smile on his face, as if amused, then raised his tail. He used it to knock away the harpies, then curled it around the ogre. The gathering watched wide-eyed as the monster was lifted up into the air by Ozymanna. The snake brought him close, peering into his eyes.

    "You must share ground, my wonderful monstrous brother, because my lord commands it. As he commands what I am about to do next."

    The ogre squirmed in the serpent's grip. "W-what's that?"

    Ozymanna's smile grew. "Why give you weapons of course. It's long past due..."


    -What? What's that?
    -What.
    -There, up in the sky, you see it? Flapping around wildly like that.
    -Hm? Ah, that's Kee'Ah Old Feather, that old harpy hag that serves the Wild King
    -She's flying like she's drunk.
    -Probably is, Kee'Ah's a right wind of a scraper and I swear to my nose I've seen it. She can drink a giant under the table and strip his whole cave bare for' he wakes.
    -Where do you figure she's going?
    -Not really the business of lowly monster folk like us, wouldn't you bleat the same?
    -Mayb. Mayb not. But if I didn't know any better, I'd say she's heading over to southern den of those rowdy goatmen.
    -Aye, almost looks that way doesn't it? Wonder what she wants with that lot...
    -More like what the Wild King wants, eh?
    -I bleat that. Let's get out of here for' she vomits whatever she's drinking and hits us.
    -Oh aye good point lead the way.


    @TheShadowOfZama
    (4) The Enchanter of the Western Marsh

    Who, who knows of the kingdom of the Lehvant people, save for the inscriptions on tombs and the bones in the earth! Woe to you cities of the Lehvant, jewel of Ulfyre, pride of the Golden Valley, gone and forgotten! Who is left to sing your praises or speak of your conquests? There are none, your name is already fading with the buried remains of your towers.

    Hm? But wait, there are some who survive. Who is this Enchanter of the Western Marsh, he who sits in the ancient new capital of the Lehvant? And who is with him, but Johade the Just! There is a true man of Lehvant, that man Johade. Tall and strong and quick to righteous anger! Such fury did the warriors of that kingdom wield! Strange though the enemies they sometimes chose to receive that anger...

    Bah, no matter. Let us gaze at Johade and remember the days of Lehvant. Hm, but this man before us has changed...he is man no more, but a spirit chained to suit of armor. Ah, but look there, the anger has remained. All his booming words, all his proclamations of right and wrong, those remain. See how he towers over this tribe as he rides into their village. See how he raises his fearsome blade and declares what is about to happen. Watch! The tribe cowers. That is not the voice of a protector, but an instrument of wrath! Wail villagers, your time is near!

    What is he doing you ask? Hm, I cannot say. He is looking for someone most likely. Ah, and judging by the person the villagers are forcing to the front of their number, it would seem Johade, last warrior of the Lehvant, has found them...


    "Um, hm...um....mhmmm......"

    The banshee known as Johade's daughter wavered to the left, then to the right. Before her were the swamp-tenders and necrobrewers of Mosshelm, the city of her master. The men were dressed in leather garments with tightly wrapped gauze. They held all manner of tools for their trade, from blades to hammers to chisels. The men talked loudly among themselves, completely ignoring the banshee.

    "Um," she said, trying to speak louder. "So... orders....so....um...the enchant...the echant..." she cowered, protecting her head as several men turned to her.

    "What's that." One man said, his voice a low gurgle. "Speak up bog ghost. I caent hear YA!"

    "Yah!" the other men yelled.

    "What are we here for!"

    "Why've you gathered us banshee welp!"

    "Speak up! We'll be yelled at if we're late back to the fields!"

    Johade's daughter dipped to the ground and curled up into a ball. The men continued yelling. Many began to leave. Finally one worker picked up a rock and threw it. It passed through the banshee, landing harmlessly behind her. The ghostly maiden froze. The remaining men turned to leave.

    The banshee slowly rose up. "I said...ORDERS!"

    The force of her scream blew the workers like clods of dirt. They landed in the surrounding marsh, sending up small splashes. Johade's daughter put her translucent hands to her face.

    "Oh no...I've...um...um..."

    She turned and fled back to Mosshelm, covering her ears as the men in the swamp groaned with pain.


    @SteelWriter77
    (5) The Goblin King of the Western Hills

    -Saw Henny Bonefingers the other day
    -Didja now? Stayed the stone-toss away I hope you did!
    -I did. I did. She was really going though. Springing from rock to rock, as if it was the simplest thing. Moving like that...
    -She was a terror years past. The way she could barrel down on a lost traveler. Have him ripped up in seconds. Strength better than some ogres....
    -Yes I've heard the stories. But she serves that goblin king now, the one that's claimed the Yulda Valley.
    -She's no less scary for it. Them goblins, you don't ever know what they're thinking. Where do you think she was going? When you saw her?
    -I've a hunch, though I've no heart to speak it.
    -Go on, it's just us...
    -Hm, ha, fine. I'd say she was headed down Saywick's way, to that other goblin king.
    -Oh? Ol' King Barryroot? Switching the crown she kisses you think?
    -No...no I don't think that at all. Something's happening in that valley. That goblin king's changing things...and I think he wants Barryroots help to do it.


    "Oy! Runtun! What you up to down there!"

    Runtun the giant straightened up. He was in a large pit, with earthen sides and piles of dirt surrounding its edge. A team of goblins and trolls worked together to haul up buckets from the bottom. Runtun wiped his brow with a massive hand, fixing his gaze on those who had addressed him. They were two stonemen, standing idly with drinking skins in their hands.

    "You," Runtun said, his deep voice rumbling. "Both of you. Get down in the pit and start hauling dirt."

    The stonemen looked at each other. "What for?" one of them asked.

    "Never you mind what for," Runtun said, lowering back down into the pit. "Get down here or I'll grind you up."

    The stonemen frowned. A moment later the giant cleared his throat in the pit. The stonemen tucked away their skins and hastened to join the work lines.


    @Zedalb
    (6) The Northern Ogre Prince

    "Sayaaaaaa,"

    The sphinx looked up from where she was curled up on her favorite bolder. Around her was her cave, with its fissure-lined roof that let in rays of sunlight from above, and all the trophies and trinkets she'd gathered through the years. On one end of the cave was a small opening. In sauntered Reega the Eager, a thin, muscled ogre with a metal helm and a wide, toothy grin.

    "Sayaaaaaa," he repeated, opening his arms wide as he approached.

    "Oh," the sphinx said, turning away from the ogre and resting back on the boulder. "It's you."

    "That's right it's me. I just returned from a rather interesting task given to me by the prince."

    "Oh?" Saya said, not bothering to turn her head.

    "That's right. Let's just say we won't be lying around without a way to defend ourselves much longer..."

    "Ah. So you gathered some brutes, did you."

    Reega let out a laugh. It echoed around the cave. "That's right! Me! The prince gave me an order and I carried it out. I will be the favored one soon! And you'll just be an ornament he nails to the wall!"

    Saya took a deep breath, then rose from her rock. She turned an arched eyebrow on the ogre. "Reega, your insistence on this contest for our lord's praise has grown tiresome. I never cared to see you beaten. I just want to aid the prince."

    Reega's smile faltered. "Eh? What's the fun in that you winged woman! Life is a contest, and we must play!"

    "Right," Says said. She began licking her feathers in an attempt to prune them. "Fine, I'll play. I've just returned as well. And I too, have done something for the prince."

    Reega's smile disappeared completely. "what..."

    "I brought someone back."

    "Who."

    It was Saya's turn to smile. "Wouldn't you like to know..."



    Vanestus said:
    Thanks Lop!

    Faction Type: Earth Tribes
    Leader Type: Dwarf Lord
    Leader Name: Ubrim Steelshout
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    (7) The Eastern King Under the Hill

    And it was said that in those days those that dwelled in the earth did so in the <Barrow Halls>, which hung with splendid tapestry and roared with burning hearth. And the stone tribes did hold many feasts there and celebrate the turnings of the deep earth and its music known only to them.

    Around a Barrow Hall lies a <Tunnel Village>, with each dwarven dwelling a wonder unto itself.

    <Dwarven Fields> are built behind high walls and hidden among the hills. Little else of the stone men dwells above ground, but what they eat is grown under sun and stars.

    (bracketed words <> are locations servants can interact with)

    The east was a lost land, the kingdoms there gone forever. When many migrated west, the Alsuwar mountains were among the greatest obstacles. Thousands died traveling its treacherous passes, and so when they made it through few wanted to ever see its peaks again. Lord Ubrim Steelshout's forefathers were different. In the hillands north of the river Fien, in the shadows of the mighty Alsuwar range, they settled among the ruins of the old city only known as Cailus. There they fonded a new settlement, Stelius, and it was in Lord Ubrim Steelshout's time that it would turn into something more.


    Snullywatch the Careful (D:2, A:4, L:2, C: 2)

    A descendant of one of the old northern trickster lines, Snullywatch is a conjurer with an eye for counting and figures, and none of the glee or wiliness of his ancestors. As such he is entrusted with all the paperwork, tithes, taxes, and legal workings of the settlement of Stelius, as well as such things as casting protective wards and driving away evil spirits. In fact, he has been sent away on more than a few dangerous tasks by Lord Steelshout, and has proved himself perfectly-capable of going toe to toe with any monstrous creature in the wild. Perhaps he still has some of the old trickster blood in him after all...


    Gus (D:6, A:4, L:3, C:2)

    When Lord Steelshout crossed the great Alsuwar mountains, he found Gus as a young bull lost in the snowy mounds of the pass. A moment of compassion saw the dwarven lord bring Gus along, and thus a companionship that would last the ages was born. Once settled in the hillands of the river Fien, the bull would grow, and grow, and grow, until he was taller than any tree or tower in Stelius. A kind and thoughtful creature, Gus would rather speak of trade and tradition than battle and bloodshed. Still, he has the body for dealing death, should he ever take the time to learn it...


    A Hill Lord, Snullywatch, and Gus settle in the ruins of a once-great city. Only time will tell what becomes of this industrious lot...



    The Villain said:
    Faction Type: Beast
    Leader Type: Beast King
    Leader Name: Simaldrus Haraltain
    Faction Name: Scisernous Confederacy
    Faction Background: Newcomers hailing from a distant land, origins unknown, histories lost, but a flame yet burns. They come with chains in tow, blades in hand, and cohorts unparalleled. Amongst the wide diaspora of avian migrants are the Scisernousi, a conjoined force of multiple clans working in tandem to resettle within the lands of Ulfyre, whether through peaceful means of diplomacy, or subjugation by the bitterness of war. It matters little to them, they will cut a bloody swathe throughout every kingdom, every tribe, and every race just to make this land theirs.

    Servant 1
    Diplomacy: 6
    Admin: 2
    Leadership:2
    Combat: 1

    Servant 2
    Diplomacy: 2
    Leadership: 6
    Admin: 3
    Combat: 5

    Leader Image:
    Edit: Sorry for the rewrite. Was still very groggy when I wrote that, left me feeling very unsatisfied.
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    (8) The Horned King of the Southern Crag

    Of rutted earth and treaded path, do secret places lie. Dark corners and darker dens, home of the <Bone Hall>, domain of such monstrous kings.

    Raised mounds, shored walls, pottery and hearth. Many such dwellings to protect the Bone Hall, a <Herd Village> to house its kin. Where bestial families gather and serve, and go about their lives. What songs do they sing, what stories do they tell. None but the young know.

    A thousand paths through forest and hill, a thousand spots where herds are brought. Monsters keep and monsters gather, much the same as any man. They slaughter the bull and cook its meat in their <Grazing Fields>, closely guarded and hidden in the wild places.

    (bracketed words indicate important locations your servants can interact with)


    Little is known of Simaldrus Haraltain before his tribe's journey into the land of Ulfyre. Their clan name and deeds only began appearing in tales and song as they fought with numerous other tribes over the southern mountain known as Rulauna. This small, contained war eventually gave rise to a victor, Simaldrus and his monster tribe. From there, with the help of his two servants, he would gather the others under his banner.


    Heccafet (D:6, A:2, L:2, C:1)

    The monstrous creature known as Heccafet is unusual for her kind, in that she has been known to show kindness to beings outside her tribe. In fact, it was her insistence that she kidnap and rear all the children of the Rulauna mountain herself that drew Lord Simaldrus to find her. With such a mind as Heccafet had, and an earnestness that could win over any, the Beast King recruited her under his banner. That is not to say he thought her kindness a strength. No, he wanted her wit, and Heccafet was first and foremost a monster, no matter how mush she pretended otherwise. That much was obvious from the bones around her den...


    Druug (D:2, A:6, L:3, C:5)
    Druug was a cyclops that had always served Lord Simaldrus, and would likely continue to do so unto his death. He is single-minded in his devotion, but clever for his kind, and terrifyingly vicious in battle. Few crossed Druug. Such a cyclops as him, who could scheme as well as any. That was too dangerous a thing to anger...

    With the Horned King, Heccafet, and Druug, a great kingdom would be founded. Few could know what would come forth from that mountain...



    Fellgrave said:
    Faction Type: Mortal
    Leader Type: Warlord
    Leader Name: Karilla Nightchill
    Faction Name: Stormravens
    Karilla Nightchill walked out of the darkest, coldest night in the north from beneath a black moon, so the stories go, from a darker age wielding magic not seen since. Of course, such stories are not any that would be brought up in her hearing, or that of her many messengers.
    A clan of sorts formed around her in her travels, searching for what only she knew, made of warriors, witches of winter and others drawn to Karilla's power and knowledge.
    Ulfyre is the latest land to attract Karilla's attention, as she and her clan move with the steady and inexorable pace of winter.

    Edit: Ignore the two in the first dice set, didn't realize the throw another dice button would do that.
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    And there were kings in the wilderness and beyond who raised the <Great Hall>. Maidens and strong warriors alike met under its roof of strong wood and slate, and the joy of a king and his retainers is much to behold.

    Lo! The glory of the Great Hall is tempered by the <Chief Village> like a scabbard and its sword. And all the huts of the warriors and their families around the center hold.

    Small plots for the animals, large ones for the seed, called <Hill Fields>. And every fish in every river and shore to the tables of those who serve the chieftain king.

    From where does the Nightchill clan come? From the east, as everyone else dies. But where others fled, the Nightchill clan reaved. And thus did Karilla and her clan come to Ulfyre, her warriors just as fierce as the monsters of the valley.

    Hilgrid the One Eyed (D:6, A:4, L:5, C:6)

    Many say Hilgrid is a sky-woman, a warrior witch of old who bore fallen warriors to the heavens. And they would be right. But now Hilgrid is just a shield-maiden, and a damn fine one at that. Whether it be entertaining with a boast, bartering with a rival kingdom, or leading warriors in battle, Hilgrid excels at it all. She is sworn for life to Karilla Nightchill, and would do anything for the winter herald of the north. One day, she will bear Karilla's body to the heavens, and thus end her time in the mortal realm.


    Buric the Mad (D:1, A:6, L:6 C:5)

    Buric the Mad is, as they say, quite mad. A member of a tribe whose sons and daughters have long been laid to rest, Buric wandered the wilderness for decades before finally coming to Ulfyre. There he met Karilla Nightchill's father, and was brought under Clan Nigthchill's banner. Buric's is a bloodline privy to great power and knowledge of the earth, and as such Buric is an incredibly talented shaman and soothsayer. His powers, however, are quite fearsome and unpredictable.


    With the Lady of Winter, Hilgrid, and Buric, the clan of Nightchill has staked its claim in Ulfyre and intends to see their ambitions through to the end. Whatever that may be...
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Here is my application, will edit once I roll:

    Faction:

    Feudal Lord,

    Khavalian Empire (Otherwise known as Khavalia)


    Overlord Khazen Karad

    Ruler of the southwestern steppes, Khazen Karad belongs to the nomadic peoples of the Khaval Horsemen who, many generations ago, moved into the area to come to dominate the area. His mother before him, the former ruler had passed the title of Overlord to him just recently- herself having lived a long reign over the region.

    The Karad family had united the Khaval horsemen and the local farming communities of the steppe into one unified kingdom, and now both cultures had merged together to form an impressive agrarian society focused primarily on trade and mounted combat. The horses of what has become known as Khavalian Empire, otherwise referred to as Khavalia, are of fine breeding stock, the husbandry of the nation's animals a source of pride.

    Skill with the bow, especially from horseback is also a prized skillset, as is riding those very horses.

    Hunting parties tracking migrating herds of animals as well as nomadic tribes with their own flocks moving between farming villages among the number of lakes and small streams scattered throughout the territory has become a common sight.

    Government
    The Khavalian Empire is ruled by the Overlord, who passes inheritance along to the eldest in line. The Khavalians are a relatively free spirited people of horsemen, and they have embodied this in their rule- towns are largely left to manage themselves, and in return for protection against larger armies and raiders, and protecting the roads in between the Khavalian horsemen tribes that rule them exact tributes and recruit the settled people's into their armies and caravans for different campaigns of commerce and conquest.

    The Khavalian nobility and nomads themselves do not typically live in the towns, and will set up camp outside of them while interacting with the locals. As such there is no official capitol of Khavalia, as the monarch and their retinue is always mobile- moving between fortresses and towns and camping in the field.

    The Karad family and to a larger extent the majority of Khavalian Horsemen also does not select whom their children marries, as arranged marriages is not a customary practice among the likes of the Khavalians. That said, dowries are commonplace between both partners, and it is typical that a gift of some sort is given to each other for the marriage to take place.
    Servant 1:
    Diplomacy 3, Administration 4, Leadership 4, and Combat Ability 3

    Company Master Segrid Falkun

    "Segrid Falkun was born to a modest family of millers who grinded grain for the town of Hengot, a grasslands town on the borders of Khavalia. However, due to wild beastman raids and other races that plagued the countryside, even with the fast response of the Overlord's troops the likes of Segrid's family had their mill burned to the ground and his father left crippled and dependent upon the community, and his mother not much better. From a young age he knew the importance of the towns own independent defense, but with most of the farmers having to dedicate most of their lives to their fields he knew that trying to amass permanent armies was both contrary to the whims of the Overlord as well as unfeasible for the local populace. So instead, he and many others appealed to merchants to fund private armies- called Companies- of mercenary bands that would then serve towns and migrate to where the worst fighting would be had. They soon came to supplement the empire's forces in battle, and their often town derived footsoldiers are a welcome, meaty addition to any Khavalian force. Segrid has made a name for himself as a shrewd and economical mercenary leader, and while not being as hard wrought a fighter as the Khavalian horsemen are, is still a formidable opponent."

    Servant 2:
    Diplomacy 5, Administration 6, Leadership 5, Combat ability 6

    Princess Kayala Karad

    "Heir to the throne, Kayala Karad is the daughter of Overlord Khazen. Kayala from a young age grew up with both her grandmother and father inspiring her to be a proud and fierce warrior, her mother unfortunately dying from childbirth. Kayala early on was an aggressive child, who grew into an aggressive princess- one that was of sanguine temperament and extreme devotion to her studies in both peace and war as ruler of the empire. Wanting to prove herself to her grandmother, and to a lesser extent her father.

    Kayala is much more eager to expand the kingdom and engage in its interests, having famously swore that she is "Married to Khavalia, and that any man to court her has to match the power of a thousand thundering hooves of Khavalian Cavalry and the wisdom of her father's falcon."

    She has yet to find a suitable suitor, and has very exacting standards, much to the chagrin of her father."
    EDIT: IGNORE THE FIRST ROLL'S EXTRA DICE, I got confused when it said "Add dice" where I meant to just do my 2nd roll. Still getting used to this forum's functions lol

    I'd prefer to be in that stretch of grassland in the southwest of the map if at all possible.
    Cosmo Rat threw 5 6-faced dice. Reason: Servant 1 Roll Total: 20
    3 3 4 4 4 4 6 6 3 3
    Cosmo Rat threw 4 6-faced dice. Reason: Servant 2 Roll Total: 22
    5 5 6 6 5 5 6 6
     
    Last edited:
    Varder said:
    @Lop is there an open slot?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Sorry I totally missed your first post while I was writing the update, there's no open slots atm but there was one other player who was interested and sometimes people drop, so I can let you know if that happens or I find this is easy enough to put in more kingdoms. I'll know in about 2 turns how smooth this quest can be run
     
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