Bill Lumberg's page

How long does it take to mount a steed that has a saddle? It is a standard action, move action or a full-round action?

From England

From Japan

Thank you to all who have served in the armed forces and sacrificed on behalf of others.

Athas.org has been offline for the last several days. Does anyone know if it is going to continue to exist? There was nothing about it at the Piazza Dark Sun forum.

Link

"The Human Highlight Reel" is gone. All I can think of is his fight with Wilson Rodriguez. If there are other boxing fans here they will understand.

RIP, Arturo.

[The scene opens into a bank interior. Patrons are cowering on the floor as armed men order them to be silent. Police sirens are heard in the background and red and blue flashing lights are visible through the bank windows. ]

GANG LEADER SPEAKING INTO CELLPHONE: “Back up! I want all the cops back away from the bank or I stop popping hostages in the head!”

POLICE CHIEF’S VOICE OVER CELLPHONE: “You know we can’t do that. We’re sending in someone to talk to you. She’s not armed.”

GANG LEADER: “No! No one comes in!”

CHIEF: “She’s at the door already.”

[OCTOMOM ENTERS, LOOKING BATSHIAT CRAZY, AS USUAL]

OCTOMOM: “Sir, my name is Nadya Denise Doud-Suleman Gutierrez and I’m here to help.”

GANG LEADER: “Wait a minute. Aren’t you that crazy lady who has 14 kids?”

OCTOMOM: “That’s right. In order to support them I took this job as a hostage negotiator for the LAPD.”

GANG LEADER: “What? That makes no sense. You have worse judgment than I do! Oh, my head!”

[GANGLEADER SUFFERS AN ANEURYSM AND FALLS TO THE GROUND, DEAD. THE OTHER GANG MEMBERS FOLLOW SUIT.]

[POLICE STORM THE BANK]

CHIEF: “Good work, Octomom! It looks like all the hostages are safe!”

SECOND POLICE OFFICER: “Not so fast, Chief. Some of the hostages overhead her and they also suffered aneurysms.”

CHIEF: “Damn it! I can’t believe this!”

OCTOMOM: “Chief,I would like to be paid in donated sperm.”
CHIEF: “WHAT?!”

OCTOMOM: “I want to have more children. Why should I waste my remaining fertile years?”

CHIEF: “ARGH!”

THE CHIEF GRABS HIS HEAD AND SLUMPS TO THE GROUND. HE HAS ALSO SUFFERED AND ANEURYSM AND DIED.

OCOTOMOM THEN TURNS TO THE CAMERA AND GIVES HER NORMAL DERANGED LOOK.

THE SCENE GOES BLACK.

THE END.

And so it begins

Link

What is a good free virus protection software for windows? I know that using windows marks me as a techno-idiot but there it is. Every once in a while I see a warning about spyware. Whenever I search for free software there always seems to be a catch like accepting a promotion for something completely unrelated to computers, like a Blockbuster promotion.

A friend suggested switchin to Linux but a programmer I know said that some features won't work with it. Does anyone have any experience using Linux?

I would like to partake of the knowledge fellow Paizonians have. A few days ago I was in my car, waiting for a red light, when a question popped into my head. It has been bothering me for the past week. I hope someone here can answer it for me.

Can a pig swim?

I have been to farms a few times and have seen pigs before but I have never seen one in water. I don't work with pigs, eat pork or have any real need to know the answer to this question. It just keeps coming back into my head. If someone could let me know I would be very grateful.

Thanks

Here is my humble attempt to catalogue Wellard's Rise of the Runelord's campaign. I will break the into a few posts to make it easier on the eyes.

The forest near Lost Coast Road grows denser as one travels further into it. The trees are only cut back for half a dozen steps beyond the edge of the trail. And that is only to deprive bandits of concealment. Anyone that walks into the woods must do so under his own concern for his safety.

I took slow steps with great care not to drag my feet. If robbers were present I did not want them to hear my steps on the floor of the forest. Daylight had just begun to color the sky when I reached a large outcropping of rocks. For three breaths I paused then pulled myself atop a flat stone that was the size of a large table. Quickly I crouched down and listened for any sound of threats. The light was not enough for me to see anything more than a short distance away but I knew that many predators are not so disadvantaged. The thought set my pulse beating for a furious moment before I calmed himself.

I loosened a pouch at my belt and withdrew a piece of charcoal. Then I began to circle around on my heels, drawing a line on the flat stone surface as I turned. In my mind I pictured an intricate design inside of a circle. "I have seen it so many times that I can draw it with my eyes closed," I muttered to myself. In the space of three score breaths I completed drawing the pattern on the stone.

To reassure myself I withdrew a piece of cloth from an inner pocket of my cloak. There was not enough light to clearly see that the ink drawing on the cloth exactly matched the one I had made on the stone. "It will have to be", I said and then stepped down from the rock. In the direction of the drawing on the stone I called out a name I never spoke to a living being:"Naberious, the Grinning Hound".

I counted my breaths after I spoke; six passed before sound followed my own. Then I heard feathers behind me and beside me, all around me. Feathers brushed my face and I pulled back reflexively. When I turned back to the circle on the stone I met the gaze of Naberious, a three-headed mastiff whose bulk barely fit atop the stone table. The hound's left head addressed me: "You called me to a rude spot here; if I step or even shift myself I will fall. Is this befitting?" Naberious' voice impressed me with its depth and grating sound. It suggested a cavernous throat. The right head of the giant dog slowly chewed the body of a crane it had caught before the flock flew off. The middle head silently considered its audience.

"I mean no disrespect by this location. But I needed secrecy. As you know, those who call you are persecuted."
"What do you want?” asked the monstrous dog.
"I wish to speak with your voice, to move listeners and to demand of them and to bear misfortune with your stoicism."

I spoke as respectfully as I could and bowed my head slightly. "In return I will be your portal to the world. All my experiences will be yours to know and share. You will feel the wind, smell the scents, taste spices and hear music as well as see all that I do." This was the promise he had made to Naberious each of the times that he called the hound into the world of men. Naberious' right head had finished eating and all three heads now stared into Imy own. For a moment I felt myself grow rigid as if held against my will or buried in a grave. A great weight pressed in on me from all sides and stiffled by breathing.

"I accept your plea and will grant you my power". This was said with all three of Naberious' heads. Then the left head turned and sniffed at the air. For a moment it said nothing. Then he turned back and warned: "Men approach. Leave now, binder." The three-headed dog then faded from sight but I sensed part of him in my mind. I wanted to converse with him and know things that are known only to beings such as he. But the great hound's warning reverberated in my ears.

I exhaled and felt the blood flow again in my limbs. I climbed atop the rock where the dog stood and looked in the direction that he had sniffed. Enough sunlight now shone that the diagram was clear on the rock. The trees prevented me from seeing more than a dozen yards from this vantage. In great haste I pulled another cloth from my pouch and wetted it with water from a skin. I used the damp rag to wipe away the chalk marks from the stone. If it were discovered I would be revealed as a binder and hanged. When the circle was nearly eliminated I heard ruffling in the trees and the voices of men.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/08/03/AR200808030 1249.html?hpid=artslot

He would have been 90 in November.

I re-read the first book of the Gulag Archipelago in May. I cannot recommend it enough. The same is true of Cancer Ward and First Circle and A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich.

Sadly, I can no longer remember the name of my Russian literature professor who introduced me to Solzhenitsyn.

Is anyone going to watch the UFC fights tonight? Unfortunately I will not be so lucky.

I am favoring Jackson to defeat Liddel again. He is 9 or 10 years younger, better in the clinch and has a strength advantage and a granite jaw. Also, the winner of the first fight usually wins the rematch.

Jackson has suffered three bad beatings in losses since the first fight with Liddel, though. Liddel is on a winning streak and also said that he was nursing a leg injury in the first fight. Jackson said that he would like to have had one or two more fights to prepare before the rematch. These things keep me from putting anything down on the fight.
(that and being broke...)

Anyone else willing to weight in on this?

What adventure did you dream up but never get to run players through?

I thought of one based on Mystery Science Theater 3,000. The players would have to go through terrible events from terrible movies. Joel and the 'Bots would be watching them and I would make comments just as they would. Ideally, the players would figure out that my remarks were being made in the character of someone other than the DM. Then they should figure out that they were being watched. (Detect for scrying)

The goal of the adventure would be to invade Deep 13, face the mad scientists and interrupt their plan to kill Mike. If they succeeded Mike would be rescued and Joel would stay on the Satelite of Love and the series would continue on the way I liked it.

If they failed then Mike would replace Joel as he did in the series. Then it would lead to Pearl, Bobo, the Brain Guy and all the things that changed at the end of the series.

"We have movie sign!"

I am sure that a changeling knocked unconscious or killed would revert to its true form. What if he or she were subjected to torture by someone who suspects the changeling's true nature? Would a will or fort save against x damage inflicted be fair?

How would you handle similar situations? Would you just let the changeling keep up the disguise no matter what, in order to keep thing simple?

Has anyone ever played in a campaign where the PCs had to get real jobs? I can imagine this in an adventure that requires the PCs to stay in one place for an extended period and support themselves or to gather information. This could also be useful in a situation where only one or two players can make a game. The players could find use their jobs to track the movements of NPCs, gather information or work off debts incurred for services like healing or other spellcasting. It would also seem to lend itself to more modern campaigs.

What fictional characters have you thrown at players or encountered as a player?

I have tried to use Jay and Silent Bob, Randal and Dante from the movie "Clerks", almost the entire casts of "Road Warrior", "Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels", "Snatch" and some characters and situations from "Mystery Science Theater 3000" spoofs.

I have had less luck with literary characters.