Our band of adventurers rolled into
the Stolen Lands, and in a few months were able to rid a goodly chunk of
territory of outlaws and monsters.
Settlers started rolling in, we made contact with all sorts of odd
critters, and set up a nice, peaceful society.
Sort of. There were kobold
(little nasty dragon creatures), intelligent wolves, lizard men, etc. I took the challenge as Zeke to redo the West
in my own image, making alliances where possible, bridging cultural barriers,
and forming a place of freedom where everyone can exist together.
Didn’t work out particularly well,
mind you. The little kobolds were big
into enslaving our settlers that strayed near their land, and we eventually
broke them of that. Peace overtures to
the lizard folk and the wolves turned to… well… I guess genocide is the right
term. The whole thing turned into one
big ass war where the monsters banded together and claimed the Stolen Lands as
their land, which they would defend to the end.
I admit I kind of agreed with
them. They were in the Stolen Lands a
lot longer than we were. We even had the
nerve to call it the Stolen Lands, when they had been there for centuries. Who were we to roll in and tell them what to
do? I felt like Gus lamenting his life’s
work towards the end of Lonesome Dove.
We’re the fucking cavalry, that’s who,
and despite being a game full of people from the mystical lands of Golarion,
all the players were Americans and we were by God and Country going to kick
some ass. Well, I know that one guy is
Polish, one is technically Cherokee, I think, and was that other dude born in
Russia? Fuck it, that’s close enough to
American here in New England. To war!
More to follow in Part 3.
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