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.