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Posts
Vattnisse wrote: A technical question - I was intending to hit Kaja with a Charm person spell once I see her, and then just ask her where Morn's room is - we are his buddies and need to se him... After that, perhaps she'll even want to chat a bit with me about her connection to the Shadow Thieves? However, is it immediately obvious that she will realise that I'm casting a spell at her? Without the use of feats like Silent Spell and Still Spell, yes, the act of spellcasting will be quite obvious to anyone who is looking directly at you. However, assuming the save fails, she will disregard the action and look upon you favorably. If she MAKES the save, however... then you will likely have a problem. You would not need to roll initiative initially, though, unless you enter by force. You would effectively catch her with your spell in the 'surprise round' and thus she would not get the chance to interrupt your casting with a readied action. Vattnisse wrote: And, finally, I'm psyched at the chance to meet with the grassland Malarites, too. A whole clan of mini-Berzerals - that will be rather interesting... You read the spoiler for Berzeral, didn't you?!? Bad player! Bad! *slaps on the wrist* For the record, you probably won't be meeting the entire clan, just a midwife and possibly a bodyguard or two. Shador wrote: I left Shador "unnammed" as a plot hook for the DM. Man, that's like handing a 5-year-old a flamethrower in this campaign. >:) Haven't heard anything from Grim in awhile. I've got everything else up to speed in the campaign thread. I'm interested to see how this confrontation at the inn goes. Grim, if you want to just have Berzeral take off to run errands, nothing plot-central is going to happen to you while you're out. You can scuttle off, gather things, and return in about an hour's time (and all in one post if you like). I do want to roleplay the meeting with the Hyenas if you're planning to pay them a visit, however. They're.... interesting people. Gimble darted off down the street that led to Othos' apartment after the exchange and eventually caught up to the group of men as they were on their way back. He made no attempts to hide himself from sight and approached them plainly on the side of the road. Catching his breath for only a moment, he addressed them. "The Northman and what I presume is one of his mates has returned to the tavern, both looking rather defeated. I presume that the smoke from the harbor speaks ill of their vessel." Besides the approach of the halfling, Shador spies no movement upon the rooftops or in the alleyways. All is quiet and still, perhaps too much so for comfort... Gimble shrugged at the Northman's statement. "Fair enough. Sleep well, Storyteller. We will find you in the morning to discuss business... perhaps once you've had a drink or two and a night to think it over. Good night to you." The halfling stepped out of the way as Torbjorn discovered his room key and made his entrance. The thin, dark-skinned woman looked up at the two entries and smiled, her white teeth starkly contrasted in the dark room by her dark skin. A single, dim lantern burned on the table she was seated at, presumably to serve as a light by which to read the book she currently held. The tavern was otherwise still and quiet, though one could hear light snoring from one or more of the patrons upstairs. Torbjorn and Helg ascend the stairs and head into Torbjorn's room, still disorderly after his romp with Varl's wife... and strangely lacking a proper bedsheet. The street outside the apartment complex remains empty as the group continues their conversation and the rain continues to drive downward from the blackened sky. Illumination comes from sporadic bursts of lightning that crackle through the dense clouds and occassionally find instance to strike far off in the distance, their thunderous rumble following only a few seconds behind. Farther up the road, away from the docks, a group of three men round the corner and cast their gaze down the cobbled street. Two of them are clad in light chainmail with scimitars and small shields at the ready, wearing the trapping of the city guard. The third man is dressed in airy silken robes, still very much in the style of a city agent (though laden with moisture from the rain), and carries aloft a globe of light which floats just a foot above his outstretched hand. Such ostentatious displays of power had become commonplace since the decline of the Shadow Thieves, and the sorcerous members of the city's law enforcement (dubbed the "Spellguard" by the Pasha himself) had become a powerful and visible force patrolling the streets of Calimport. The guards look down the long, dark street and their gaze falls upon the assembled group on the landing outside of Othos' apartment but they pay them no special attention. There was no curfew in Calimport and a group of men standing around on a second-story landing after midnight was not so suspicious, given the city's reputation for operating at all hours of the day. After a moment's time, the guards move on, continuing their patrol around the massive fountain that marked this neighborhood's commons area and pass down another street nearby, the light shed by their sorcerer's globe fading away until it disappears completely from sight. Lich-Loved wrote: Sorry for a couple of posts with the wrong avatar. I tried to change them but couldn't edit the post when I discovered my error. I would like to think I am paying attention when I post, but I am just not yet in the habit of setting the proper avatar. I will endeavor to improve. No problem. I know who you are still. ;) Shador wrote: I am not sure if Berzeral's illusion will stand up to Shador's scrutiny. Also, Shador will wrack his brain, seeing what he may know of this Morn character they plan on robbing. The illusion created by a hat of disguise does not permit a save. Your Spot check result does not reveal the nature of the disguise. Shador believes exactly what he sees. As for your knowledge of Morn, your Knowledge(Calimshan) result reveals little about him. You know him as a blade merchant who frequents the Bazaar and specializes in custom sheathes and grip designs to maximize concealment. Because of the nature of his business, it is not surprising that he, too, is somehow connected to the guild, though you're not certain of HOW he's connected. Ah! The scheming has begun! Bear in mind that Shador possesses knowledge that Kaja also has connections with the Shadow Thieves. And, if you'll recall, she was reading a book all by herself in the lobby area when you left. She's the night clerk of the inn, and you can bet your bottom dollar that she'll be there... and won't take kindly to forced entry. Of course, a waifish little black girl isn't going to stop you guys, is she? ;) Torbjorn and Berzeral have room keys which, incidently, operate the front door as well. This will remove the need for lockpicking... at least until you get upstairs and try to get into Morn's room. It will also allow you to enter non-violently, assuming you want to (and really, what did the black girl ever do to you?). While we're detailing the local churches, here's some info for Othos as well:
Spoiler:
The Church of Shar has long been one of the strongest churches in Calimshan's underworld. It hosted over 250 active members less than a year ago, making it the largest church of an evil deity in the entire country (as far as they knew, anyway). Prized for their ability to aid the Shadow Thieves in matters of espionage and assassination, the clerics and arcanists of Shar were frequently enlisted by the Thieves to create potions, scrolls, and wands of spells such as invisibility, true strike, clairaudience/clairvoyance, expeditious retreat and plenty others. Othos may have even been involved in creating some of these scrolls in his early days as a wizard. Healing was also given freely to established members of the guild and the guild never hesitated to come to the aid of a Sharran in need of it. For the last 10 years, the Church of Shar in Calimshan had been operated by a half-drow High Priestess named Shelara Duskwidow. Her power was nearly absolute and none in the Church dared to oppose her ministrations. However, about 4 months ago, she simply vanished without a trace. The Shadow Thieves were enlisted to seek her out but they could find nothing and, in fact, lost many of their own members in the search. Many clerics in the church thought that she had joined a rival faith and was converting or killing those who got too close to finding her. Without her strong leadership, however, the church slowly began to crumble. Attendance dropped, clerics began to lose faith (and were summarily executed for their lack of conviction), and the guards seemed to be getting closer to discovering their secret temples so, at the behest of the new High Priestess, a human woman named Jazeira Greymantle, the temple was officially disbanded and the clergy were ordered to hide themselves however they could, even from each other, until Shar could cast her shadow upon the city and provide a safe place to meet once again. The info for Berzeral:
Spoiler:
Calimshan in general is somewhat unforgiving to those inclined towards the natural aspects of the world. Since roughly half the kingdom is consumed by the mystical and supposedly cursed Calim Desert, there is not a lot of wilderness to be found except for the miles of scrub and sand that extends north and east of Calimport. Calimport itself is situated near the Calim River which runs northeast and separates the desert from the savannah-like grasslands to the east. To the north of Calimport lies the desert. To the south and west is the ocean. To the east is the river and then arid grassland for several days ride before hitting the southern edge of the Forest of Mir.
Any Malarite worship that occurs in the city itself is in the form of hunters and trappers who brave the harsh desert in search of new beasts to commune with and new prey to seek, often in the form of merchants who find themselves lost in the ensorcelled desert or adventurers who desperately search for lost relics in the sand. There is a Malarite cult that operates in the grasslands as well, assuming the properties of a ferocious pride of hunting cats. They prey on creatures that roam the open savannah, using the tall grass and their god's blessings to conceal themselves until the time is right. Occassionally, members of this cult will travel to Calimport in order to trade their spoils for new weapons, armors, and spell components but they largely avoid the city. The Hyenas, as the city's Malarite desert hunter tribe is known, have contact with the Lion's Roar (the grasslands tribe) and can usually make contact with them in a few days time. The Lion's Roar tribe possesses many of the resources Berzeral would need in this situation (namely, midwives) while the Hyenas consist entirely of warriors (and male ones at that). Berzeral knows that the Hyenas can be contacted simply by asking for them by name at their 'guild house' on the north end of town, just inside the city gates. They operate openly, but do not display the vestments of their faith in public. They also operate a trapper's cart in the Bazaar during peak times of the year, selling skins, teeth, claws, and other such things (including vials of scorpion and snake poison to those who know how to ask). The woman accepts the clothing with a nod of thanks but maintains a look of total bewilderment at Othos and the obfuscated Berzeral. Certainly this had been the most harrowing and bizarre day of her life and her mind was still reeling from everything that was going on. She waited for Othos to finish his business in the bedroom and then returned to it, donned the clothes she had been given, and laid on the bed, wide-eyed and obviously engrossed in thought. Gimble saw the smoke and heard the distant screams from the far side of the docks. He did not know what had caused them but when he saw Torbjorn's massive frame silhouetted against the grey shroud that enveloped the entire wharf, he smiled wickedly. As the large man approached with his shipmate in tow, Gimble emerged from the overhang he had been using as shelter to greet them. "The tavern has closed for the night... but I can lead you to shelter if you're in need of such." Gimble noticed the look of desolation on the shipmate's face and smiled smugly. "I presume you're seeking more than a roof over your head as well. Follow me." The room that Torbjorn had used earlier was probably paid in advance for months at a time and thus Torbjorn does have a key if he wishes to use the tavern. He has a choice to make here, follow the shady halfling or return to his room in the inn and take his shipmate with him? The terrified woman weakly gestures around the corner and into the main kitchen area, indicating the matronly old woman that had been escorting her from the tavern earlier. Quickly, she leans down to retrieve the tea cup and places it back on the table while simultaneously pulling the sheets higher on her body to provide greater modesty. For clarification's sake, here is a link to a (crappy) diagram of Othos' apartment. The brown circle is the table the woman is at, the purple thing is the inactive summoning circle, and the little grey circle is the "lavatory". Vatt can determine the placement and details of other furniture as he wishes. Assume the entirety of the apartment to be roughly 25' square. Vattnisse wrote: Hmmm. I actually thought the "unfamiliar woman" in my apartment would be the disguised Berzeral, and that the victimised young woman would be asleep in bed. Well, well... I'll work this out in two hours or so. Gotta run a midterm first! Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I forgot that he had moved her to the bed. We'll assume that, after her ordeal, she was not interested in sleeping and decided to have tea instead. Too late to change it! :( Besides the wind and rain (which still show no sign of letting up anytime soon), the corridors outside the second-level apartment are empty. Over the railing, Shador can see the empty street that leads all the way back to the docks. The temporary marketplace where the road ends seems to have packed up and moved out. Beyond the docks and into the grey haze, Shador can see a column of black smoke rising from the vague silhouette of a ship in the harbor. Lich-Loved wrote: Shador is trying to determine if he has heard anything about this thin, dark-skinned woman from the Efreeti’s Djinn. Knowledge (Calimshan) result: 12 + 8 = 20 You know her only by the name you've heard: Kaja. You've heard stories about this particular woman and are aware that she possesses some connections to the Shadow Thieves. She operates the Efreeti's Djinn after hours to allow late-night customers access to their rooms (and allow people who are staying there to leave in the middle of the night if need be). You know that there has to be more to her than that, but you do not know what her other 'talents' may be.Gimble remains at the bar as the others depart, wishing to hang around in case the Northman returns. The thin, dark-skinned woman returns just as Othos and Shador are leaving, her dark cloak unusually dry given the weather she had just traveled in. She wishes them a good night, hangs her cloak, and seats her self at an empty table in the darkened inn, producing a book from her pack and beginning to read. The doorman leaves the key with her and heads home for the evening. Gimble remains just outside, under a nearby overhang for protection from the rain. The young woman drops the cup of tea at Othos' ferocious entry, spilling its contents all over the wooden floor. Her mouth stammers open and closed, but no noise issues forth. Her eyes widen in stark terror upon seeing the dagger and fill with tears. She weakly raises her hands to the sides in a display of powerlessness. The halfling chuckled. "Of course there is something to be earned!" The halfling realizes his excitement and lowers his voice, catching an awkward look from the bartender. "I strongly doubt that the Shadow Thieves are completely gone. There are certainly strong pockets of resistance left in the underworld. They would offer us whatever we desired to aid them. Not to mention we would certainly be assured a position amongst them after they return to power. The Shadow Thieves take good care of their own." He cast his gaze around the room once more to make sure no one was listening. "And, if they are gone, we will find what remains of their empire and use those remains to start anew." And now the whole scheme has been laid out. It makes you wonder: What is the true evil here? Which is worse, greedy merchants or cutthroat assassins? Can a den of rapists and murderers really make life BETTER for the common man? No matter which side wins, it seems that the world gets a little darker. Hence, "Fade to Black." ;) The halfling leans forward on the table, punctuating key points of his statement by tapping his finger on the wooden surface. "Money runs this city, friend, not people. Let me explain to you exactly how business is done in Calimshan. Merchants have goods. They sell these goods for money. The more money they charge, the more money they make. Whenever a new merchant comes to town, he wants to charge less money so more people will buy from him. The rich merchants will pay money to mercenaries to drive the new merchant out of business. The Shadow Thieves don't let this happen without their permission. For every two-bit thug some merchant takes in off the street to do his dirty work, there's a Shadow Thief assassin who can stop him. The Shadow Thieves don't want the merchants getting TOO rich, and here's why: Merchants pay taxes. Taxes pay the sultan. The sultan pays guards. More guards means more trouble for the Shadow Thieves and RICH guards are harder to bribe. It's already starting to happen. I don't supposed you've taken note of the fact that most of the patrols near the docks have a sorcerer with them now, have you?" The halfling raised an eyebrow at that note and nodded a confirmation before continuing. "Shadow Thieves don't work for merchants. Sure, every now and then a merchant offers a Shadow Thief hitman enough money to make him forget where his allegiences lie, but those situations are rectified swiftly and permanently, rest assured. But it goes even further than that! The various temples and churches that operate out of sight of the common man? They're protected as well. The Shadow Thieves make sure that the guards look the other way during religious holidays. They provide sacrificial victims to the churches that need them. Most of the Shadow Thieves even attend the services themselves because they believe. Why do they do this, you ask? Because the churches take care of the thieves. The Shadow Thieves aren't perfect. Sometimes they get hurt in the middle of a job and sometimes one of their good men gets taken down in a raid. The churches can fix these setbacks and they gladly do so because they know they're being taken care of in kind. I don't know if you're a religious man or not, but these churches are getting uprooted by the guards on a daily basis. Clerics are hunted and killed. Temples are demolished. Some of the more savvy ones seem to have gone into hiding, but the end result is the fact that the Dark Ones are being thwarted here... and they're not happy about it." The halfling grinned wickedly at his last point. "The Shadow Thieves are responsible for more than you could ever imagine, my friend, and with them gone, this city will strangle itself and you and me will get choked along with it. Many thieves have already fled town. They know what's coming and they think they can just run away. Not me. I aim to stop it, but I can't do it alone. Take a moment and think about all this. If Calimshan, the merchant capital of the South, succumbs to this fate... it'll only be a matter of time before the rest of Faerun is either sitting on a mountain of gold or wallowing in the mud and feces in service to the golden gods of commerce. Choose a side, friend, but choose it quickly. The storm outside isn't the only one to be worried about." Gimble rocked back in his seat, thinking on what had been said. "The Shadow Thieves provide persons such as myself and my associate here with much-needed protection. By the sound of things, I'm afraid I may have made a misjudgement regarding your occupation. I hadn't thought that someone like you was a simple merchant. My sincerest apologies." Gimble takes another sip of his beverage, finishing the last of it off and setting the empty mug on the table. "I had thought that you were someone who understands how the economy really works around here." The woman in Berzeral's charge manages to stifle her sobbing a bit, finally making a few coherent statements. "I would like clothes. And tea. Yes, that will be nice. Thank you..." she sniffled loudly, seeming to swallow her tears. "Did... did you see what happened? That man... did the guards get him? And the orc man? Gods... why is this happening to me?!" She coiled on the bed, still wrapped in wet sheets, and continued sobbing, wiping her running nose on the sheets. She lifted her head up enough that she could see Berzeral, her large, tear-filled eyes staring at him pitifully. The halfling took a sip of his beverage and nodded in response. "There have certainly been some tales tonight, but I'm afraid you're a bit late," the halfling smirked knowingly at Othos. "As for us, well, it's business. I'm not certain how long you've been in town, but I presume that you know a thing or two about the Shadow Thieves, yes?" Without really waiting for a response, the halfling continues. "Things have been a little... suspicious around here lately, and not in a good way. The Shadow Thieves seem to have just up and left town. Common folk see this as a good thing. We are not common folk." The halfling takes another sip of his drink and allows the dwarf to digest the information he's provided so far before continuing. "Thieves' guilds, and especially powerful ones like the Shadow Thieves, are like spiders in the city. The keep the insect population low, and by insects I mean people who think they can do what they want to who they want. The guards can't be everywhere and the thieves' guild has a vested interest in making sure that business runs smoothly. They make sure that the murderers don't kill important people, they make sure that the guards don't kill important murderers, and they generally keep this city on it's feet." The halfling smirked self-righteously. "I'm sure you've noticed that business is booming outside, even in this hideous weather? That's because there's no one stealing from their purses. No one threatening merchants with death if they don't lower their prices to guild members. No one to maintain the middle class. Without the thieves, this place is going to turn into a poor man's hell where the rich get richer and the poor... get killed. We don't want that, understand?" The halfling popped an almond into his mouth and crunched loudly. The bartender's eyes widened a bit in appreciation of the generous tip and he tilled it with a smile, returning to the business of cleaning the remaining plates. He nodded to the doorman at the entrance who closed the latch on the door in order to prevent further customers from entering without a key. A few noises came from the kitchen area as the staff cleaned up their areas and put away all the cookware. A waifishly thin, dark-skinned, human girl with black hair emerged at the base of the steps from the upstairs only a moment later, her descent making no more sound than a cat's would. She smiled at the bartender who smiled and nodded in return. "Good to see you're finally awake, Kaja. You might want to take your cloak with you. The weather is still quite miserable out there," the bartender gestured towards a row of coatracks where a few cloaks still remained hanging. "I appreciate the concern, Ji. I'll be back in a few moments to start my shift," the girl's tone was frank and factual, her voice had a soft lilting cadence to it. This was obviously a woman used to living in silence. She could not have been more than 20 years old by her appearance and, though she was indeed very thin, she appeared to be in good health. She made her way over to the coat racks and removed a single black cloak which bore an unusal embroidery in white along the hem. As she donned it, the doorman smiled at her and unlocked the door to permit her exit. Gimble noticed the dwarf's attention had fallen on the two of them and, after a moment of watching the exchange between the girl and the barkeep, he smiled at the dwarf and motioned for him to join them. He whispered very quietly to Othos as he did so. "I know I've seen him somewhere. Maybe a conversation will jog my memory." The raven picked up an almond with its beak and began furiously tearing it apart and eating it. The bartender nods his head and prepares another mug of the house ale for Othos. Once poured, he sets the mug on the counter and one of the barmaids brings it to his table, smiling awkwardly at the talking bird. "Three copper for the ale, sir," she says politely in a very tired voice. The raven reveals the fate of the boat in the harbor and states that the large man was standing on the docks when it happened. The raven admits that he was disinclined to remain in the area after the stroke of lightning obliterated the ship's mast. It ruffles its feathers to shake the water off, having no regard to the fact that he is spattering water all over the table and a bit onto Othos and Gimble. Yes, they still speak any one language that the owner knows. You can take your pick as to which language the bird presents this information in. I would advise against Common since almost everyone speaks that and there may be times when you don't WANT others to understand him. Gimble takes a long look at the dwarf by the bar. Having not been in Calimport for long, he was not familiar with the locals, but this one looked familiar. Did he know him from Waterdeep? Regardless, the dwarven population of Calimshan was nearly non-existant, so Gimble hazarded a guess that he was not from around here. "I don't know him... but he looks familiar. I don't think he's from around here, though. Maybe from up North." The door appears to be free of glyphs or sigils and so the pair enters through the door into the darkened apartment. It is a simple affair, with a living area, a bedroom, and a small study all kept in immaculate condition. The living area hosts a round table with four chairs situated around it for eating and the preparation of food. On the floor in the office room is a bizarre circle rich with arcane glyphs and runes of power but it seems to be inert at the moment. A dark curtain separates the bedroom from the other rooms and it is in this room that the small waste gutter trickles rainwater through the walls of the complex and out to the sewers. A small window is here as well, just above chest height, and it looks out over the street outside. This particular window has had the shutters drawn and latched, but bears no glass within (which is normal for this region). Nothing stands out as unusual and the apartment shows no sign of recent traffic which is strange considering the unlocked entrance. The woman Berzeral is escorting begins to control her sobbing somewhat, still clutching the sheets close to her body as she looks at his matronly guise. "Is... is this your home? Why are we here? I want to see my husband!" Tears of frustration begin to form and she shivers from the rain-soaked sheets around her naked form. Waiting on Vatt to offer up an apartment description for Berzeral now. As for the door being unlocked, you can handle it any number of ways. Did you leave it unlocked for a reason? Did someone or something unlock it without you knowing? Does anyone else have a key? It doesn't matter to me. If you didn't mean to leave it unlocked, that means that I get to invent PLOT! Mwahahahaha!!!! Also, still waiting for Phil's reaction to the destruction of the ship. I know he's gotta be crazy busy with the Pathfinder stuff so I might need to drop him an e-mail. Hopefully he'll come up with something to at least rejoin the group. I can handle things from there. Or, if he prefers, I can NPC him for a short while. There's no way in hell I'll be able to do that character justice though. It's just too good! Berzeral escorted the young woman hastily through the downpour, avoiding major intersections and the open-air markets (though the vast majority of stalls had closed due to weather and the late hour). The woman wimpered as her feet shuffled along the cobblestone alleys en route to the apartment complex where Othos made his residence. She was obviously still in shock and unbelieving of what was happening to her since the entire trip was made in silence. Berzeral led her up the stone stairway that led to the second level of the complex only a few blocks from the inn, the building's overhangs keeping the worst of the rain off them. Finally, he reached the apartment that Othos had described. Outside the door was a numeric symbol that denoted it as apartment number twenty-two. The door itself was a simple hardwood affair and, surprisingly, unlocked. I'll let Vatt describe his own apartment. Assume it to be a 2-3 room establishment with a small, curtained off area for using the 'restroom' in the form of a gutter which runs between the walls of the apartments and empties into the ocean through the sewers. The gutter is currently rushing with rainwater. The bartender nodded to Shador's request, preparing a mug of the house ale and placing it on the counter before him. "Three copper for the drink, and last call will be when I finish cleaning these plates. Drink up," the bartender smirked slightly, his eyes scanning the nearly empty tavern and settling on Othos and Gimble on the far side of the room. "You two drinking anything? We're about to close!" he called out to them as he began to wipe down another plate. By the sound of things, the weather outside was not about to get any better. The two men at the bar placed a few copper pieces on the bar and left their mugs, slowly climbing off of their stools and making their way out, pulling up the hoods of their cloaks as they stepped outside into the driving rain. I went ahead and made a spurious post in the interest of motivating people to interact and scheme a bit more. Lich, if you'd like your character to wander into the tavern at this point, that would be fine. Perhaps he's seeking a room for the night or maybe he's here to collect something from the bartender. Or maybe he's meeting with one of the grumpy men at the bar. Your call. Again, nothing that happens in the tavern is going to ruin my plans. (Just try not to kill anyone.) Or, if you'd like, I can write your intro for you. I can assure you that it will be happening quite soon if that is what you want. I have a very good idea of how to thrust you into the plotline. Morn and his companions disappear up the stairs, the sounds of their laughter and conversation growing fainter and fainter until, after the sounds of a door's latch clicking shut, they cannot be heard at all. The patronage of the bar has dwindled at this late hour, leaving only Othos, Gimble, the doorman, the bartender, and two surly gentlemen at the bar left in attendance, one of whom appears to be fading in and out of consciousness. Othos feels the return of his familiar and it flaps rudely against the shutters outside the window nearest his table, pecking at the glass to get his attention. The rain continues to fall in sheets and the echoes of thunder fill the sky as the hour approaches midnight. Lich-Loved wrote:
Well, to be honest I was kind of hoping to find out for certain whether Grim was actually going to be gone for good or not (so I knew if I should start NPCing him or not). Also, I'm waiting for a reaction from Phil regarding the lightning strike and subsequent inferno that has destroyed his ship. Othos is hanging out in the tavern with Gimble, Morn has gone upstairs with his prostitutes, Berzeral is en route to Othos's apartment, and Gimble is eating an almond. Heh. Hrm... ahh... well... According to one of his recent posts, Grimcleaver is bowing out of the PbP games and the community here on the boards in general (or so it seems at first glance). I'm deeply saddened by this news and hope that he comes back once he's had a little time to cool off. I will try to NPC his character for the time being, but I'm not sure I'll be able to do it justice. We may end up looking for yet another player for this campaign. I really hope it doesn't come to that. Phil Lacefield Jr. wrote:
Well, I was actually being sarcastic, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be absolutely sure. Man, that would really suck! Combat would be like: DM: "Okay, you walk into the dank crypt and immediately to your left you notice a ***non-OGL monster***. It sneers and you and raises it's ***non-OGL material***, preparing to strike!" Player: "I'm going to charge it and attack with my ***non-OGL feat***." DM: "Nice." Phil Lacefield Jr. wrote:
I understand completely. I'm still speechless and I wasn't even a subscriber! I wish you and the rest of Paizo the best of luck in your future. I shall continue to be a loyal shopper of your online store.
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