Kingmaker - As the Ravens Gather

Killer Bushes

As Lizvetta emerged from the high briars onto the beach, she could see Markoa wrestling in the surf with the seemingly deranged Gorumite. Slade stood in the midst of their camp, rummaging through his packs. Only seconds before, Corben had come running down the path, his pale face a mask of terror. He had shoved her into the briars and continued screaming towards the beach.
“He seems to have found his way back,” she said as she approached the campsite.

What I Knew

I didn’t know.

I didn’t even understand HOW I didn’t know, but I could taste the warm saltiness that meant blood, mixed with chunks of something hard. Probably my teeth. I had my axe in one hand, feeling its familiar weight. A fight, then. And…I’m already hurt. Where? How?

#+*{=}*#^ hammer!

Cradling his right hand close to his chest, Slade props up his feet and looks at the hammer.
“What do you think, Yorick? Found the hammer in an ancient dwarves ruin. Wrested it from the grasp of our ancient enemy, the goblins. Abadar’s teeth, I can’t stand them.”

Looking at the dwarf, the Baron considered. Slade had probably been thinking about this for a while. And in his usual taciturn way, Slade gave little indication of where he was headed “Yep, that’s a hammer all right.” said the younger man.

Dry land at last

Having made it back to the base camp, after ANOTHER trip in a boat, Slade is done. He finds himself a comfortable seat, and begins fishing for his pipe.

“You go ahead” he begins. “These old bones need a rest after that island. Shoulda known a boat trip would be a disaster.”

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“I’ll keep an eye on the camp. I got some thinkin’ to do anyway.”

The Message


Sobovor finished cleaning Gorum’s Rage and laid the battleaxe on its cradle. He was used to the rush of battle lust that the axe generated when held so letting go of it only elicited a soft grunt from the old grizzled castellan. The venerable reaver turned to watch the servant unobtrusively removing the tray of the Duke’s barely touched mid-day supper. The Duke hadn’t eaten much and Domani was staring out of the window at the falling snows absentmindedly rubbing a parchment letter with his thumb.

And the mead flows freely.

“Oy!” Shep shouted to the barkeep. “Another and be quick about it!” A crooked grin parted the grime on his face as the cool mug of freshly brewed mead was placed in front of him. He slapped down a three pence and turned back to his friends who are deep in giddy gossip.

Shiny Armor
Corbin woke up and hopped out of bed. Korrah was still asleep he had the day off, what to do what to do. He stretched his back pushing his large belly out and rubbed it then grabbed his loincloth and a clean set of clothes.

Crack! The sound of the slap was loud enough to draw Prog’s attention outside to the windows high above him. Prog chuckled and moved along the wall patrol.

“Oww! Lizvetta, what was that for?” exclaimed Yorick rubbing his reddened face.

Spy vs Spy

The svelte Tian woman sits at her desk frowning over reports from her Shadows. “This doesn’t make any sense!” she exasperatedly breathes, massaging her temples with her delicate fingers. “Grigori can’t be in both Meeroever and Tatzlford at the same time.” Sigh. “The kobolds in the radish patches can’t be threatening to secede and join the fey. And this part about rumors of The Baron and The Witch?” She lowers her head to the desk and thumps it with her fist several times. “What the fuck is going on?”

Heavy on the Brow

Pushing the stupid pot back from his forehead, Duke Yorick walked quickly up the stairs. Once out of view of his subjects, he removed the crown and rubbed at his temples. Why did it have to be so uncomfortable? Slade had explained that by their nature, crowns were front-heavy, but surely some more effective design had been worked out over the centuries.


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