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So would it be better to have a Professor type or a Doctor type. There isn't a lot of differance with the persona so much as skill base, thou there could be a cross ulitiy thing going on there.
So long as this Academic/doctor allows for the campaign hook.
Which is, as the zombie outbreak is upon them and the military is declaring and praticing martial law everything goes to sh*t. The characters are saved by/run accross a friend of the Doctor/Academic. Who turns out to be something of a serial killer, but has just been living with it for years. Now that the end of days is upon them he sees fit to do whatever he wants, which is kidnap the PCS through drugs and put them into a SaW like senerio, but with NPCs.
I got the trap worked out for that too, or at least the mechanic.
Perhaps you all can help me with my work here. Apart of my time is spent making a one shot con game that is Cthulhu Now Zombie Apocalypse.
Do any of you have any ideas for iconic zombie fighting characters. Need eight have
Mother - defends daughter to her dying breath.
I have seen other PbP games were this was a stopping point. I did not foresee that it would come to a complete grinding hault.
It is not a poorly written module in my opinion. Perhaps a bit of a stretch along this stretch.
I think what our next move is for the players to dig down and find some motivation, other wise let's just call it. If something so trivial as one small plot point stops us what will happen when we really have a problem?
I don't say this because I am upset. I just fail to see where the actual problem is. Share your thoughts.
If I don't hear anything by Tuesday I will just go ahead and call it.
Are you sure Mr. Zatqualmie Fire-Top? It is quite dangerous in the woods and I would hate to have lost you to...Giant Wolves?
Assaulting female personage. Please state the nature of...Giant Wolves?
Sounds can be heard in the forest, as two large beasts run through the brush in hot pursuit.
State your actions for a suprise round. Your surprise round :)
The darkskinned man is still very much alive, and is moving now. Clearly he was poisoned, and while it was severe it seems to be nonlethal.
You go on ahead. I will meet you later.
cough cough, hack hack
He stumbles back to the entrance and departs on his horse.
Music can be heard as you get futher into the cave.
The group is walking along to their next destination, when suddenly. A halfling girl burst from the undergrowth and sprints through their numbers.
Straight into Tarran. With a resounding BONG she impacts the unyeilding cast iron and is thrown backwards on her rump.
She looks around wild with panic, her head bleeding badly.
Oops I almost forgot we added another player
The unholy creation shudders as the holy energy washes over it, and flys at the cleric with a wordless scream that sounds like grating metal.
It's icy claws pass through the cleric harmlessly, but for the shiver down her spine.
But then the apperation is gone and the body rests where the group found it once again.
A whispering echo comes from everywhere at once...
Yes, it is a shruken Dwarven head. Acts as a magic mouth and an alarm stone. I will get you full description in a few.
You find a clear glass jar full of rough uncut crystaline gems. Clearly a find!
Appraise check...any thing hire than a 3:
Quaylon's 'find' turns out to be very clear and solid rock salt. Rare to find salt in this form this perserved, but certainly not gems of any kind.
At a dead run, which is like 40 feet for the thing, Taran smashes through the doorway. Now there is a very caldron/doorway looking hole in the wall.
It scoopes up the Gnome and begins trudging along. Some how, some way a lid is produced and it clamps down on the rim of the pot sealing the gnome in total darkness.
It can move of its own accord, though your overland movement will be slower. However it never tires. It has a slam attack and can swallow whole. Also did anyone take anything from the hut?
lucky roll :0
Lorkay Ganderhoddle speaks in a even although light tone.
To be sure ser I hope no one wants to murder me. You seem like a noble enough lad, and of high birth I'd wager. So you will know me for a liar or a cheat right away. Seeing that I am of low birth. I say that I did not take the sword or dagger, what ever blade was taken. Nor have I know such blade existed until this morning when I was restricted to the Inn by Sheriff Cage.
thumbing his gloves tight
Who here has born witness against me?
I realize that this may be a slow part of the game, trying to speed it along the best way I can.
Jauhar = GM Poisonbladed taking over the game as aggreed.
Going to take it from the top, from where everyone is at in the map currently. Please ignore previous posts as to movement, but you may keep the stealth or perception rolls as you see fit.
Suddenly Jauhar yells out, grabbing his neck.
He slumbs over says something in a rapid mumble and collapses.
A shadowy form can be seen flirting away.
The dead body stands up, and growls all fall down ALL FALLLL
Roll Will saves.
after a few moments, and sounds that are very close to the sounds of boiling water emit from the basin
Yes, I beleive you are correct. If I understand the ideal correlation between mizolips and the encounter ratio of zergronflips. Would you suggest a florantor gram or the zero tolerance of terran cubes?
at those words a certain little critter tucked under a hat grabs two handfuls of hair and hangs on tight...
Yes there is a fair amount of various components. Then you have her collection of trinkets and rare stones. I suppose she never summoner her familair, so the burning salts are still there. Oh and the Soulspeaker is around here somewhere. Look for a yellowish shrunken dwarven head amulet. It is quite powerful, but is rather grotesque. She use to hang it from the door to ward off intruders when she was sleeping.
appraise for the gems and trinkets, detect magic on soulspeaker, the burning salts cuts the time for summoning familiars or animal companions.
The Sheriff leaves for a second then ushers in a gnome.
Presenting Lorkay Ganderhoddle. Go ahead deputies as him your questions, as you requested.
Lorkhay has stout leather gloves tucked in his belt, there are white and yellowish stains on the cuffs creamy colored cuffs. The pair seems out of place considering the finery of his mother of pearl jewelry and turquoise shirt and pants, trimmed in vivid dark blue. His small goatee is dyed black while his neatly combed hair is stark white. He nods at those seated and takes a chair.
What is the meaning of this? Am I to be brought to the back room to be murdered in the name of justice?
Oh no. I plan to follow Mr. Zatqualmie Exataerg Frablufamint TulgraspTinet Fire-Top to the ends of the earth. Sadly I am only as limited when it comes to cooking as to the person putting things in me. Though I do take pride in making sure that every thing is cooked evenly. And I know nearly 50 recipes for stew. 171 for soup. I am tired of waiting for the Mistress, and I have so many questions about the world. Plus one more second alone with these dreaded hateful mice will drive me insane.
It is very good to meet you Mr. Makvor. Oh yes! The Rat's Tail. Last I knew of it, the little squeakers tiped the clay jar that housed her supply off the third shelf to the right of the door. It seemed it rolled down under that table, and then leaves blew in, when the door was opened.
assuming someone picks it up- a brown clay jar with rusty clasp is found under some rotten leaves under the table. There are some tried long thin roots in the jar. They seem well perserved.
Yes yes right there. Take all that you need
Glad to meet you sire Zatqualmie Exataerg Frablufamint TulgraspTinet Fire-Top. A most righteous sounding name. I must apologize for my fright. That last time I had seen one of your kind. Um well let’s just say that the Mistress wasn't kind to those three. Their shrieks gave me terrible nightmares and it was a good year or two before I could sleep through a week without being disturbed by the horrors she inflicted upon them. Can you imagine having someone boiled alive in you? A dreadful experience I assure you.
Oh my that was rude of me wasn’t it? Here I am trying to make friends with each of you and all I can do it brattle on about the mistress cooking others of Mr. Fire-top’s ilk. Please except my apology sire Zatqualmie Exataerg Frablufamint TulgraspTinet Fire-Top. It does occur to me that I plaid a part in the tortures she inflicted on travelers of the small variety. I do plan to make up for those sins of the past. Yes yes, right now! Mr. Fire-top from this day forward you are my ward. I can give you a list of the duties I can perform but as of this second no harm shall come to you upon my watch.
In a way I am partly glad the Mistress has gone missing, though it has gotten very boring around here without her. But now that you all are here there can be good times and excitement.
I dare say are we going to be friends? I would like to be, but now that you have given me a name I feel dreadfully embarrassed for not knowing yours?
You there good sir fixing the door, what do they call you?
Cage once again.
Yes they might be, but you lot seem to have solid heads about you. More over if they get very upset at you aiding my investigation then they very likely have something to hide. Who do you wish to see first? Or would you rather leave the room and conduct this investigation yourselves while I watch the accused? It could do well for you when the dagger is found.
Rat's Tail? There is plenty of mice around. Though I don't think that is what you have in mind. I have a running inventory of all my ladies wares. Though I will have to think on just where it went. I will be happy to supply all that is here, for the repair of the door. But give me one second. What's that? Oh my yes the Mistress has been gone for what seems like ages. I haven't scene her and the mice she use to keep haven't either. Saddly some years ago I lost track of time when I over slept. You wouldn't happen to know the date would you? No sir I don't think your being rdiculous one bit. She always called me Caldron, though that seems like a rather unoriginal name. More like a title of function than a name. You wouldn't happen to know of any good names would you?
When Zat comes in and shouts the caldron starts, and with its handles raised it stumbles back, out of its fire pit (that hasn't seen a fire in some time) and into a corner as far as it can get from the gnome, screaming.
OH MY OH MY OH MY. No no no please friends, no harm no harm! I am no beast. No foe I. Please be friends, please?
keep in mind that it only moves at like 10 feet, so "running" back to the corner is a very slow affair. Quaylon your Diplomacy was successful that the caldron is friendly, thought it already was.
The caldron shudders, which clanks its handles.
You are not the Mistress? Have you seen...Ware the caldron!! Oh please don't attack me. It is so very good to hear another voice, one that doesn't squeak horribly. Or drop things on my floor. Clank Clank would you look at that door. Was that what woke me? How on earth am I going to fix that?
Aside from an assortment of dust covered shelves, there stands a table, a broken chair, and a filthy bed. Odds and ends hang from ropes tied to the rafters. Some of the ropes have broken spilling there suspended oddity to the floor.
Some glass jars are filled with strange colored liquids, some have odd creatures in them. A gilded cage, merely a foot tall, lies on the floor smashed from it's fall. A strange oddly humanoid looking skeleton resides inside, twisted tiny bones are broken like the cage.
Dead center of the floor a black caldron dominates the room. It is the only thing that is not covered in dust.
When the three enter it moves, and in a gurgling grinding bass voice it booms
Quaylon - Reflex Save DC 12 vs being knocked prone.
As he approaches he notices that the door is in disrepair. He fails to notice that it only hangs on one rusty hinge.
Knocking on the rotten wood yeilds only a slight thumb, thumb sound and causes the weak hinge to break loose.
Makvor, only some type of magic, foul magic, would produce this effect.
Mrachni notices nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the creepy hut, and the gnome putting on something like a puppet show.
Random Encounter Stuff:
chance 1d100 ⇒ 42, encounter 1d10 ⇒ 8
refresh your spells and abilities
Making your way along you notice that the forest grows thicker. Dark catches up to the group before making to the old witches hide out. In the morn as you make your way you begin to notice odd carvings on the trees and adornments tied onto various branches. Sticks tied in bundles, animal skins and bleached bones, and dolls made of burlab swing in the wind.
The sounds of the forest become suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, eyln, and darkwood—all typically sturdy woods—twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots. At the glade’s center squats an ugly cottage, little more than