A final update on what happened to Kingmakers.
What kind of man orders the death of the King?
Important NPCs within Machias.
Extremely terse summary- I've had my hands full as of late, and I apologize for the lack of explanation.
Combat heavy sessions make for short summaries
A charming but withdrawn noble who goes out and kills people in the name of The Locust at night.
Sadly, the first night my Antagonistic Player is around to play, inter-player drama throws things off causing a slog of a session where almost nothing got accomplished.
A thankfully rare mineral that burn's one skin as if the Devil himself had spit on you
Woo boy. Where to even begin?
Multi-session summary a-go-go.
A perfect example of my players thinking of something being better than my current plan happened tonight.
The Group Arrives in Cranson. Intrigue follows.
Cranson's Captain of the Guard (Character Sheet)
Session 10 won't get a summary due to lack of action. NOW WITH BONUS SESSION 12 ACTION!
Stuff happened. Now I have plotting to do.
My players continue to do things instead of infiltrating the party...
Things get seedy
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.