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A tall man walked into the room, stood by the door as his eyes adjusted and he took the measure of the place. Apparently, it passed muster, for he nodded and headed for the bar. Either he was a follower of Cayden Cailean or he just liked his ale, for he had a battered pewter mug on his belt into which the barkeep poured some ale. The man walked the room, swigging his ale, listening to the music, and introducing himself and talking a bit.
Thus it was that people learned he was, like most of them, a Pathfinder. He wore light armor (a fine chain shirt, with buckler) and had two fine looking blades, a dueling sword and an Elven curve blade. Yet he was not Elven. His human face had features of several different races of Golarian, with generous doses of Varisian and Tien.
He had a fine sense of humor and told tales of growing up on sailing vessels, learning the profession of a sailor from his father, languages from his mother, who was a translator from Tien, and sword fighting from an Elf sword master. Since becoming a Pathfinder, he had journeyed to the Wall of Heaven in far off Tien, near the Worldwound in Mendev, and most recently in the steamy jungles of the Mwangi Expanse.
#1-04: The Frozen Fingers of Midnight
#1-07 Among the Living
#1-08 Slave Pits of Absalom
#1-13 Prince of Augustana Scenario
#1-43: The Pallid Plague
#2-01 Before the Dawn Part 1: Bloodcove Disguise
#2-02 Before the Dawn Part 1: Rescue at Azlant Ridge
#2-21: The Dalsine Affair
#2-23: Shadow's Last Stand—Part I: At Shadow's Door
#2-24, Shadow's Last Stand Part II: Web of Corruption
#3-09: The Quest for Perfection, Part 1: The Edge of Heaven
#3-11: The Quest for Perfection, Part 2: On Hostile Waters
#3-13: The Quest for Perfection, Part 3: Defenders of Nesting Swallow
#4-15: The Cyphermage Dilemma
#5-08: The Confirmation
#5-19: The Horn of Aroden
#5-21: The Merchant's Wake
#5-22 Scars of the Third Crusade
#6–12: Scions of the Sky Key, Part 1: On Sharrowsmith's Trail
#6-14: Scions of the Sky Key, Part 2: Kaava Quarry
Emerald Spire Superdungeon: The Tower Ruins
The Haunting of Harrowstone
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An attractive young woman with Varisian features and tattoos sits at a table with a spread of Harrow cards in front of her. From time to time, she does a reading for someone and earns a few coins. She wears no armor and seems to only carry a star-knife, unless that scarf of hers is one of the Varisian bladed scarves. If asked, she admits she is a witch. If asked about her familiar, she pats her Harrow deck. She doesn't have many Pathfinder stories to tell, but she is eager to catch the eye of a venture captain and get more experience.
#1-04: The Frozen Fingers of Midnight
#1-07 Among the Living
#1-08 Slave Pits of Absalom
#1-13 Prince of Augustana Scenario
#1-43: The Pallid Plague
#2-01 Before the Dawn Part 1: Bloodcove Disguise
#2-02 Before the Dawn Part 1: Rescue at Azlant Ridge
#2-21: The Dalsine Affair
#2-23: Shadow's Last Stand—Part I: At Shadow's Door
#2-24, Shadow's Last Stand Part II: Web of Corruption
#3-09: The Quest for Perfection, Part 1: The Edge of Heaven
#3-11: The Quest for Perfection, Part 2: On Hostile Waters
#3-13: The Quest for Perfection, Part 3: Defenders of Nesting Swallow
#4-15: The Cyphermage Dilemma
#5-08: The Confirmation
#5-19: The Horn of Aroden
#5-21: The Merchant's Wake
#5-22 Scars of the Third Crusade
#6–12: Scions of the Sky Key, Part 1: On Sharrowsmith's Trail
#6-14: Scions of the Sky Key, Part 2: Kaava Quarry
Emerald Spire Superdungeon: The Tower Ruins
The Haunting of Harrowstone
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Omar nods in respect to the esteemed VC.
"Aye you are correct honorable Venture Captain. While this is not a hall for recreation,
there could be a case made for spirits to bolster the morale of a team before they head out on a dangerous mission.
Especially those of us new to the Society without the long and illustrious career you have seen...
well beyond when ordinary agents would choose to retire.
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"Who said anything about a recreation hall? This i a Pathfinder Lodge! We are here to serve the Society and the community of Cassomir, not to party and drink!"
The Taldan grins, continuing to tap out a complex beat on the table in front of him. "Why, Venture-Captain, you did. Granted, it's been some little time since that particular recruitment."
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Benson smiles good-naturedly and sets his mug down. "I did not mean to offend or to treat our duties as Pathfinders lightly. I'm happy to offer my help to those who may have need of it, while we wait for news of assignments. I can give pointers on sword fighting, including how to fight properly on a sailing ship and some tricks to have opponents quaking in their boots before they even begin to fight. I speak and read Tien, should anyone need a translator. I can instruct on geography in far flung lands. I can even instruct on ways of disarming traps. I'm also happy to learn new things, should anyone care to instruct me."
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An elf enters, hangs his traveling cloak on a peg, and ask about for the Venture Captain. He is tall, with blond hair and dark-violet eyes. His clothing is finely crafted with embellishments typical of Elven tailors. He as an aristocratic air, walking gracefully with back straight and head held high.
When he finds the venture captain, he introduces himself. "I am Tûrin Valpamiucon, son of Barathon and Daeralda," he begins in fluent common, with just a hint of lyrical Elven accent. I have been on leave from the Pathfinders while I have been working as a junior diplomat for Kyonin around various parts of the Inner Sea. My office duties have concluded for now and so I am free to resume Pathfinder assignments. I am a transmuter and an investigator." He gestures to a scroll tube on his belt, adding, "I have letters of reference from the venture captains I've worked for."
As he says this, a sash-like belt ripples and from a fold near the side, the head of a river otter sticks out, looking curiously about the room. Toorin absently plucks some dried fish from one of his many spell component pouches and feeds it to the creature.
Once the pleasantries of introductions are concluded, he asks after the location of the guild library.
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"... well beyond when ordinary agents would choose to retire.
An middle-aged gnome in the corner looks briefly shocked, then grins suddenly in anticipation as Omar calls the esteemed venture captain both old and unwise, even if he didn't use those particular words. In some societies that would be enough for a duel to the death.
He silently hopes that happens. Things have been a bit boring since that weekend he spent with the brunette.
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The tengu glances over at the skald and his eyes light up...
"Buddy, that's a lot of stones. You a follower 'f the Drunk? 'cause if you ain't, y'should prob'ly 'pologize t' the Cap'n. Y'don' spit into the wind an' y'don' cut on Our Lord in Ir'n's steel. If it was my place, 'd shove y' into th' kitchen an' have you doin' the cleanin'. Just sayin'."
An unruly dwarf, smelling strongly of sour beer, tromps into the lounge. ”All right you lot, we’ve got job for a group of experienced Pathfinders. One of our own has gone missing, and we need you to find her. Oh, and she was last seen in the Mana Wastes. So you tricksy magic types will need to plan accordingly.”
An unruly dwarf, smelling strongly of sour beer, tromps into the lounge. ”All right you lot, we’ve got job for a group of experienced Pathfinders. One of our own has gone missing, and we need you to find her. Oh, and she was last seen in the Mana Wastes. So you tricksy magic types will need to plan accordingly.”
I'm interested. I've got a level 10 Mammoth Rider I've been itching to play; how friendly would this scenario be to a huge-sized mount?
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A tall, muscular man enters the lodge in enough time to hear the tail end of the dwarf's speech. He is red-haired, with pointy ears just visible beneath said hair, to go with slightly delicate features at odds with his burly appearance. He is armed and amored, a greatsword worn across his back, and... a chicken made of rubber tucked into his belt at his waist.
"HA! The WASTES? I'm not afraid! I have the heart of a lion!" He pauses. "And a lifetime ban from the Absalom Zoo, but no matter. I shall lend my blade to your quest, for we never leave a man, or a woman, or, or, anyone behind! Am I right? Am I right?" he shouts, clearly trying to lead the room in a rousing toast to this effect. It's possible it's a little too early in the day for most people to get on board with his over-enthusiasm.
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An unruly dwarf, smelling strongly of sour beer, tromps into the lounge. ”All right you lot, we’ve got job for a group of experienced Pathfinders. One of our own has gone missing, and we need you to find her. Oh, and she was last seen in the Mana Wastes. So you tricksy magic types will need to plan accordingly.”
A slender elf with numerous vials on his person stands at the announcement. "I'd be up for a mission, if my talents would be appreciated. "
Horn's one of the few I'm missing. I'll pop over and select something to round it out!
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A tall man wearing scale mail armor and carrying a light wooden shield comes in and begins to mingle, politely asking if anyone knows of any Pathfinder missions needing fighters for their front ranks. He looks capable, if green. From his accent, it would be a good guess that he grew up in Absalom. From the cut of his cloths and armor, it would be an equally good guess that he was rich, or more likely, given his young age, had rich parents.
Before long, the conversation turns to horses. His face lights up and he begins to talk about the relative strengths and weaknesses of Percherons versus Clydesdales. In other conversations, he shares some of his ideas for innovating siege engines or canal locks.
His name is Clebsch Gordon. His parents are wealthy breeders of heavy horses. He has received training in various weapons, including mounted combat, and now feels ready to make his mark in the world. He joined the Pathfinders to gain experience in the world of politics and business, making contacts and learning things that might help him when he's ready to return to take over his parents' ranch.
As you wander around the campus of the Grand Lodge, you see the familiar sight of a young recruit nailing up a poster.
Interested Pathfinders can sign up HERE.
Should be up to date now.
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A transfixing man in an ornate mask strides from the direction of the theater district, followed by a small band of gawkers, some of whom wave small books or playbills obviously torn straight off walls, which he graciously signs one by one while continuing his brisk pace. One by one they sidle off (in many cases reluctantly, but something about their hero makes them uneasy about overstaying their welcome) until he is alone, at which point he nearly walks into the tree, and is about to absent-mindedly sign the poster there when he realizes what it is he's looking at.
"Interesting." He says. "In fact, *very* interesting."
A young agent-in-training delivers a missive directing the following agents to report ASAP to Ambros Valsin's office.
Jal Vaduva
Ludovico Tauranor
The Amazing Vanzetti
Garret (or Isabella)
Evenstar
Guang
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Game Expectations
1. Posting Frequency: Before signing up, consider how much time you can devote to the game. I prefer players who can post once per day on average. I understand that everyone occasionally has a busy day and just can't find the time to post. I try to avoid this but even as the GM I sometimes miss a day. But not posting for several days is not acceptable. It slows the game down and makes it less interesting because your character will be left behind in the action. And if you disappear during combat and hold things up for a day, I will skip you and move on.
2. Posting Quality: Take advantage of the medium and write some description. Tell us what your PC is doing or what they look like; put up some dialog and start a conversation with your fellow PCs. It makes the game immensely more engaging, immersive, and entertaining. Here is a great example of PCs coming to life with some great description and dialog. I hate to call someone out on bad posting etiquette when the player in question has been making an effort to be better about posting quality lately, but do not ever do this. Isn't the first example so much more fun to read than just a post with some empty dice blocks in it or a post with nothing but ooc text? I will admit, it can sometimes be hard to spice up combat posts. But here is some great simple advice on that. Bottom line: be willing to make an effort role-playing in my game. If you aren't up to that challenge, please consider playing a different game. If you aren't much of a writer or are new to PbP, don't be intimidated. I/We will help you improve! But if you sign up for my game and make too many posts with just dice or just , I will give you a warning and if your quality doesn't improve I reserve the right to ask you to leave the game.
"Ok, agents!" calls out the halfling Venture-Captain. "I've got some new assignments! I think some of our greener agents might get some good experience with this first one. The Aspis Consortium pays well, but few can stand its underhanded tactics for long. One operative fed up with the Consortium's practices has contacted the Pathfinder Society with a tempting offer: assist her in leaving the organization, and she will supply the Society with years of insider intelligence about their longstanding rival. It's up to some of our agents to navigate Diobel—a proud town run by cutthroat smugglers—earn the defector's trust, and deal a telling blow to their Aspis foes. Come see me if you'd like to help!"
"This next one is going to require a little more experience, I am afraid," Trotter says as he lowers his voice for dramatic effect. "When the Jeweled Sages, an ancient order of Osirian scholars, fled Qadiran invaders millennia ago, some perished, and others disappeared deep into territories once held by the pharaohs of old. With the help of the Jeweled Sages' long-abandoned tools, the eminent Tahonikepsu-the newest leader of the Scarab Sages-has discovered one of the sages' last known whereabouts in the wilds of Nex. We need agents to find more information about the Amethyst Sage by traveling to that dark country. See me for a fitness evaluation before you leave!" Trotter hops down from his stool and starts fielding names of willing agents.
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"Captain Flaxseed," a soft voice cuts through the din of the lodge. "I will go if you will have me," it continues.
The voice belongs to a Hwan lady, and what it lacks in volume it makes up for in exactness. Her garb looks out of place amidst the armor worn by most of her compatriots; more suitable for a meeting of diplomats or a discussion of scholars than a trek across Kortos.
"It would be an honor to greet a new friend."
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"Cutthroat smugglers? Well. Let me help you help them help you help them. Because we're all very helpful here and love to cooperate, right? And perhaps even explore a bit on the side? Let's synergize our creative parameters to make for a pro-active and productive expedition, then?"
A strangely charismatic fellow using far too many buzzwords but with the right inflection and timing smiles.
"Just call me 'Sully'. We'll all work together at our own pace to make sure the project gets done with time to spare."