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Gark the Goblin's page

6,062 posts. Alias of Human.

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Liberty's Edge

My campaign journal was previously posted on another forum, but since that forum's been down for over a month I think it's time to port it over here. Unfortunately, the Web Archive did not have the latest version of the thread, so some posts are missing. I pasted in the backups I had, but it's clearly incomplete :(

WARNING TO PLAYERS: Don't read any other threads in this section! They're pretty much guaranteed to have spoilers.

Archive w/ commentary:
Posted by Fish at 03-17-2015, 01:54 AM

I figure this is a little outside this forum's normal purview, but four of my friends are playing a Pathfinder game online and we've decided to start up a campaign journal (basically, summaries of each session). We all have accounts on MSPAF so this seemed like the best place to put the journal for everyone to post on easily.

The adventure path I'm running is Serpent's Skull. Players/characters are Loather/Chester A. Arthur, a cleric of Keltheald who stowed aboard in Magnimar, Morhek/Athelstan Twice-Dropped, a bard from the Five Kings Mountains who boarded in Cheliax, genteelGunslinger/Notmerlen Wyvernmane, a fighter also from the Five Kings Mountains contracted as Athelstan's bodyguard, and goblinDroll/Thornton Poer, a sorcerer from Thuvia who's been on the ship's crew for several years now. Sessions are weekly, and the first one was on Saturday!


In the year 4710 AR, on 19 Arodus, an Oathday, the passengers and crew (minus First Mate Alton Devers, Captain Alizandru Kovack, and a passenger named Ieana) of the Jenivere sat down to eat in the spacious messdeck. As usual, Cook Bergen had made a simple, blandish stew of salt pork, onions, and potatoes, but something about it must have been off, for everyone's memories shortly thereafter jumbled into sensations of nausea, panic, and drowning.

Some time later, Notmerlen Wyvernmane awoke in an oppressive darkness, feeling wet sand beneath him and hearing the rushing sound of waves close-by. He gradually noticed a heavy weight pressing down on his legs, and then suddenly a sharp pain in his foot jolted him fully awake. Above were low-hanging, swirling grey clouds, and from the light it seemed to be another warm tropical morning (20 Arodus). An ochre, crustacean-like creature with a long stinger at the end of its tail was at his feet, and had its pincers around his ankle. Shouting in confusion, the warrior tucked his feet away from the monster and slammed his gauntleted fist down towards its mandibles. As he swung, however, he was overcome with a sensation of sickness, and the dog-sized crustacean managed to skitter out of the way.

Looking around, Notmerlen saw two more of the lobster-like monsters coming out of the surf. About ten feet away from where Notmerlen lay on the sand was a haphhazard pile of weapons, backpacks, and other gear, and up and down the beach on both sides were Athelstan Twice-Dropped (his charge) and most of the other passengers - Thornton Poer, Chester A. Arthur, Ishirou, Gelik Aberwhinge, Sasha Nevah, Aerys Mavato, and the manacled prisoner, Jask Derindi. Notmerlen saw one of the lobsters moving toward Chester, then, and before he could stop it it had pinched painfully into her leg, jolting her awake as well. The monster further down the shore nipped Athelstan awake, too.

Both dwarves seemed just as nauseous as Notmerlen, if not worse, but they managed to get to their feet and scramble away from the unusual lobsters. Athelstan moved back very carefully, fearing to open himself to attacks. Chester ran up the beach and shook Thornton (who had been muttering something about second breakfast) awake, and the halfling was then able to get up and run down towards the melee with Notmerlen. Notmerlen swung his spiked, gauntleted fist again, this time bashing open the lobster's shell and nearly dropping it, then stood up and stepped back towards the pile of weapons, catching the glint of his four-foot greatsword at the bottom.

The lobster Notmerlen just struck reared back and stung him with its stinger, piercing a soft spot in his armor. It pumped a painful toxin into his blood, but with his hearty dwarven constitution he was able to shake it off. Then, seeming to wobble, it fell into the surf, unconscious. Somehow sensing that its ally was wounded, the other lobster went into a frenzy on Notmerlen, grabbing for him with its claws and trying to stab him with its tail, as well. However, he was growing used to the sensation of oily unease in his stomach, and easily dodged each strike.

Down the beach, the last lobster skittered up to the insensate Ishirou and gave him a tentative nip with its claws. He seemed not to wake, immediately, so Chester went to grab her halberd from the gear pile with the intent of protecting him. Thornton, meanwhile, stepped into the waves near the other still-standing lobster and grasped its shell briefly, pulling some of its life force into himself. The monster wobbled, but jabbed Thornton with its pincers and stinger. As the stinger pierced his flesh, the halfling felt a burning pain, and his limbs began to feel slightly heavier and slower.

Athelstan picked up a bit of sand and blew it towards the monster that'd engaged Thornton and Notmerlen, beginning to weave a bit of dwarven magic. The monster nipped Thornton again, but before it could do any more harm, Notmerlen and Chester picked up their weapons and swung down at it, quickly knocking it unconscious. Chester then ran down the shore towards Ishirou and his carapaced assailant, holding her halberd in front of her. Ishirou was crawling away from the lobster, which decided to abandon him and instead charged to meet Chester, who it failed to hit when she dodged out of its way. Athelstan's sleep spell went off without effect, so he picked up his bow and fired an arrow at the lobster. Notmerlen ran after Chester and cleaved through the lobster before she could strike, defeating the last of the strange creatures.

In the aftermath, Athelstan realized that the strange creatures were "ochre eurypterids," a sort of scorpion of the sea with a nasty venom in their stingers. Looking to the faint brightness in the clouds that signified where the sun was, and remembering the route the Jenivere had been sailing before the group's sickening meal, Chester was able to determine that the group was shipwrecked on Smuggler's Shiv, an island about 30 miles northwest of Eleder that is renowned for its shipwrecks. The island's coastline is rocky and its interior is choked with thick rainforest, but there are reports that the island has been host to a number of failed colonisation efforts. Unfortunately, there are also numerous rumors of ghosts and ghouls haunting the waters around the island, clinging to undeath after they perished on the jagged rocks and reefs surrounding the island. The dwarves exchanged this information with the others, who had just spotted the wreck of the Jenivere about fifteen minutes up the coast, below a steep cliff. Thornton hoped to check the wreck for supplies, but it seemed the tide was too high to safely walk out to it, so the group stayed on the beach with the other groggy castaways.

After a minute or so, Gelik, Aerys, Jask, and Sasha began to groggily stir. The last four, along with Ishirou, seemed very disoriented, but Gelik hopped up and came over to talk to the party. He asked what happened - but the group was just as mystified as he. Thornton's stomach was growling, so he sent Notmerlen into the jungle behind the beach to find firewood, and began the task of hauling the eurypterids out of the surf and cleaning out their edible parts. Chester considered using the hollow shells for a raft, but didn't know a lot about crustaceans, and thought the creatures could be naturally buoyant. She tried floating a few of them to no success.

Twenty minutes later, Notmerlen returned from the forest's edge with a heavy armful of dead, mostly dry wood. Athelstan lit a fire with his flint and steel, and lent Thornton his cooking pot to boil the eurypterids in. The halfling made an unremarkable breakfast - about as good as Cook Bergen's, but with considerably less salt. Smelling the food, the other castaways came over to eat, and it seemed everyone had overcome their nausea. Aerys, Ishirou, Jask, and Sasha still seemed numb, however - they ate quietly, huddling around the fire for warmth. Gelik had a bright shine in his eyes, however, and Athelstan went over to ask him to help set up a camp.

After a brief exchange, which mostly revolved assuring Gelik would be kept safe from any more monsters like the eurypterids, Athelstan won the gnome over, and Gelik agreed. Unfortunately, he was really quite terrible at camp-building, despite his time as a Pathfinder, and Thornton, Notmerlen, and Chester took over. Thanks in part to Chester's wealth of experience travelling and surviving in the wilds, and Notmerlen's wealth of camp-making tools, the group finished the three wooden lean-tos in about six hours. The noonday heat beat down through the clouds, making the air sticky and warm, but in the time since the group began their labor, the tide had slowly receded, exposing a rocky causeway out to the Jenivere that they could see even from camp.

Shouldering their packs and leaving the other castaways on the beach, Athelstan, Chester, Notmerlen, and Thornton walked down the shore towards the Jenivere. As they approached, they heard a relentless clattering noise coming from inside the ship, which looked to have lost both its bow and much of its lower decks. Seeing as the lower decks were where the crew slept, it was unlikely that any of them still survived in the wreck.

Tied to a timber protruding from the shattered ship's ruin, the group saw a piece of wood tumbling around in the surf just below - this piece of wood, Thornton realized, was the bow of the Jenivere's only lifeboat. It must have washed up between the ship and the cliff and was crushed by the action of the waves.

Cautiously climbing through a hole in the hull, the party found themselves in the brig. The single cell was empty, with its door hanging ajar - this was where Jask had been held since he was ushered aboard in Corentyn. Seeing nothing else of note in the room, the group opened the door. Athelstan and Notmerlen wanted to go to the captain's cabin, but Thornton had other ideas - he made a beeline for the larder, and the others followed.

Unfortunately, just outside the larder was another carapaced crustacean creature. About twice as large as the dog-shaped ochre eurypterids, and with a bluish shell instead of brown, the common eurypterid was much deadlier. It abandoned the larder door - which, Thornton noticed, had been gouged significantly by the monster's claws - and raised its stinger. Chester charged forward, swinging her halberd, but the creature skittered away from the blow, and she struck only wood. Notmerlen, however, was able to run around her and split open the top of the monster's carapace, dropping it instantly. Looking down at the creature, Chester remarked, "Looks like we've got our next meal!"

Thornton turned the knob and stepped inside, and was shocked to see the body of Cook Bergen lying on the floor of the small storeroom. He was elated, however, to see barrels of salted meat, jars of pickled fish and vegetables, several wheels of farmer's cheese from Corentyn, and a small sack of pepper from Senghor. Thornton set to organizing the food for transport while Chester examined the cook's body.

Chester determined the cause of death almost on first glance. A pair of large fang marks in Cook Bergen's pallid neck could only have come from a venemous snake - but a venemous snake larger than any she had ever before seen. Cook Bergen's body was very stiff, as if he'd been killed before sunset last night - but as far as Chester could remember, supper had been served several hours after darkness. She stood up and faced the others. "There's snakes on this boat. Time-travelling snakes."

Posted by genteelGUnslinger at 03-17-2015, 01:59 AM

Name: Notmerlen Wyvernmane
Race: Dwarf
Age: 64
Appearance: Long, dark brown hair and beard tied carefully to prevent snagging on his armour. A number of small facial scars line his cheeks and one larger scar runs up the bridge of his nose. Clothes are practical and comfortable for wear in warm climates, and for wearing under the burden of mail, though he might switch out to lighter armour if the jungle climate proves too difficult for heavier armour.

Class: Slayer


Notmerlen has spent much of his life doing one thing. Protecting wealthy people. Protecting powerful people. Protecting the people in general. Where he found his skill with a blade and with an axe in need, he served diligently and without fault. If there was one thing that could describe Notmerlen's professional life, it was that he was loyal to a fault. Even when he joined the great merchant drives of Highhelm, he faced every danger with a cold indifference, something which even among dwarves is considered...unusual. But such talent made him quite popular among merchants and councillors needing personal protectors and guards. Particularly a guard who had a reputation for unbending loyalty.

But such a unbending loyalty and will had a purpose. A plan years in formulation. Garnering such a considerable reputation and recommendations from many of the most notable merchant groups would bring him closer to revenge. For years, he had resented the owner of the Half-beard Mining Company for forcing his father out of business and leaving his family to fall into poverty. It was only through years of dedicated work that Notmerlen was able to scrape his way out of poverty through training with militia and mercenary groups. Even then, he was not able to prevent his parent's deaths before sickness overcame them, and his sister died trying to follow in his path, being crushed to death by an Ogre's club on a caravan drive. Alone, angry and without any other purpose, Notmerlen saw his opportunity when he was approached by a Half-beard recruiter. Apparently, Halfbeard's nephew and apprentice was travelling to a Sargarvan mine, where he would negotiate and organize a merger that would see both parties profit heavily. 6 months in Sargarva. Enough time to get revenge. However that might come about. He'd find a way. But Notmerlen could not find it in himself to extend that same hatred towards his charge. Athelstan Twice-Dropped, though expressing all the attitudes that come with a life of privilege, had the strange effect of making people around him like him. He hated Half-Beard, but he could get used to Twice-Dropped. Even if what he intends to do will certainly ruin him as well. But maybe he would be a valuable asset in his revenge. Time will tell how useful he will be.

Entry 1

1 Sarenith 4715 AR:

Mother, Father, dear sister Kelma. I swore on our family, our ancestors and all the stone of the Five Kings that I will see my duty fulfilled. I swore that I would ruin Half-Beard and leave him as destitute as he left us. Today is the first day on that journey. I will avenge you.

A contract organized by one of Half-Beards cronies got me in as the bodyguard of his adoptive son, Athelstan Twice-Dropped. Athelstan is...well, if it not for his adoptive father, he certainly would make for interesting company. Unfortunately, he reminds me too much of that beard-stunted bastard for me to get all that attached to him. Too pompous and clearly hasn't seen a day of action in his life. Things are going to become a lot more exciting for him soon enough. He suspects nothing. Believing me to be nothing more than another hired muscle, guiding him to his important business deal.

Poor bastard. He seems to mean well enough, and I hear he's a genuinely good businessman. Unlike his father. But things have a price, and Half-Beard cared not when he threw my father and all of our family into the streets to die like rabid dogs. He gets no special treatment.

The ocean...the ocean is vast. I had not seen the ocean from more than a great distance away, atop the outer ridge of the mountains. Now, I stand at the waters edge, looking out toward the moving sea. I'm not sure how I'll feel on the boat.

3 Sarenith 4715 AR

It's rocking. All the time. I am rather glad I have a strong stomach, because I'm handling it better than Athelstan. Two days in, and he has had a bucket with him wherever he goes. This will be a long journey. Dwarves aren't meant to be on boats.

19 Arodus 4715 AR:

Blast everything, and particularly, blast that damn cook. I am as groggy on the details as I am physically, but seemingly, the entire crew of the Jenivere had been drugged. Apparently, it was potent enough to have rendered all of us unconscious, and strong enough to keep us in that state as the ship dashed itself against the rocks. Unless someone threw us all overboard, I think being alive at all is a miracle. I can see the boat from here, impaled on the sharp, wet stones. It's lower deck and bow torn from the rest of the ship. The water lashing at her remains. How did we survive...

And so many of us. Only one member of the actual crew is among us, but almost all passengers save for one, Ieana I believe her name was, has washed ashore. The captain is absent. Most likely rolling at the bottom of the ocean right now, or wedge between those razor sharp rocks. Whatever the case, we have been stranded on a island known as Smuggler's Shiv. Notorious for being used by smuggler ships in throwing off pursuit by making dangerously close voyages to the island. Any boat unlucky in navigating it's surrounding waters winds up much like the Jenivere.

Among the passengers, only a few catch my eye. My charge is alive. Shaken by the event and combat, but alive. His great business deal will have to be put on hold. Actually, considering this will most certainly
disrupt the merger between Half-Beard Mining Company and the Sargavan mining company, maybe this is a boon after all. If I wasn't stuck here as well. I guess I'll take my blessings as they are. I just have to bide my time.

The halfling, Thorton, apparently cares for little more than when he's next eating. He was a part of the crew, but he has an airs about him that reminds me far too much of the gentry of the Five Kings. Always nose first up their arse. And frankly, he smells like it too. Probably putting it on and has forgotten about the 'shower twice a week' habit of the rich. He does, however, have magical powers. I saw him try something to one of the oversized lobsters that attempted to eat us during our sleep. The air around his hand seemed to...condense. Like breath high up in the mountain. Did he try to freeze the monster? Is he a hedge wizard? What is he doing living as a sailor?

He also has a chicken that somehow survived the event. For what purpose, I cannot ascertain. He is certainly an odd duck.

But an even odder duck is the third dwarf in our company. Chester something. Sounds lowland dwarf for sure. She is just weird. Seemingly, she is a cleric. Her trappings give away her devotion to presumably one of the deities of the sun. Most sun-worshippers tend to act like as though they've spent too long standing under it, but this one is just beyond me. And a dwarf at that! She wears a featureless bronze mask on her face, and refuses to take it off. I'm not even sure I remember her wandering the ship much on our journey. This is possibly the first good look I've had since I first spotted her aboard the Jenivere. She seems capable with her halberd, I'll give her that, but a dwarf worshipping the sun? Not right....clearly she has lost her stonesense, along with any other sense with it.

We will set off to the wreck of the Jenivere soon. Hopefully, we don't run into any more of those large lobster creatures. As much as they were tasty, I wouldn't like to meet any more. And maybe, I'll be able to retrieve some gear to construct a raft. The cleric apparently does have a few bright ideas after all. We might also be able to retrieve something from the captains belongings. He's sure to have gold or treasure lying around, and I wouldn't imagine a dead man minding too much if we take some for ourselves. To the living go the spoils, as they say.

Entry 2

19 Arodus 4715 AR:

We located quite a number of supplies and useful tools within the wreck of the Jenivere

I'll list an entire itinerary here:

From the Storage Room:

block and tackle, three large canvas sheets, two fishing nets, a grappling hook, two bullseye lanterns, 12 flasks of lantern oil, 150 feet of hemp rope, and five shovels
Alton Devers' equipment: Masterwork studded leather armor and masterwork short sword

From the kitchen:

Dried beans from Magnimar
jars of honey from Magnimar
1 cask of wine from Pezzack
2 casks of water from Senghor
Oranges, limes, and lemons from Senghor
Crates of hardtack from Magnimar
2 casks of rum from Quent
Millet flour from Senghor
Jars of sauerkraut from Nisroch
Olive oil from Corentyn
Wheels of farmer's cheese from Corentyn
Barrels of salt pork from Corentyn
Barrels of salt fish from Port Peril
Black pepper from Senghor

From the Captain's drawers:

Several keys
Several sea charts and maps
Alizandru Kovack's captain's log
Bottle of fine brandy
Darkwood model of ship in a bottle
Small coffer

From the Coffer:

350 gold pieces

From the Footlocker in the Captain's Room:

Leather satchel with 12 potions (10 conjuration, 2 transmutation)
Masterwork dagger, suit of leather armor, two potions with conjuration auras, a holy symbol, and a spell component pouch
All above belong to Jask. We have returned his armour and his holy symbol along with his component pouch, but have withheld his weapons for now.


1 bed
1 eurypterid body

The supplies withheld, we have made other discoveries since our journey to the Jenivere. Namely, we discovered the body of Alton Dever. The First Mate aboard the Jenivere. I was able to determine that the man was killed by repeated stab wounds from a slim weapon, too large and too deep to be a knife, and most likely a rapier given the locations of the wounds being consistent with the rapier techniques I know myself. The man has also seemingly been attacked by one of the Eurypterids, if not the one we ourselves dealth with. He had on him a number of useful tools, so I relieved him of his belongings. Dead men have not much use for armour or weapons, particularly if they did him no good in life either.

We also came across the journal of the Captain of the ship, and my charge, Athelstan, has discovered a number of very concerning things within. Apparently, as the ship reached near the end of it's journey, the Captain's sanity began to clearly deteriorate. He became infatuated with Ieana, the scholar who was missing from the other passengers. He wrote numerous and very sloppy love poems to the woman, and began to grow suspicious of the intentions of the other crew members and passengers, believing them to be scheming to steal her away from him. Namely, he believed his First Mate most responsible for such a scheme. The captain was one of the only people wielding a rapier.

What troubles me more is the fact that it was apparently on Ieana's request that the ship be steered closer to this forsaken island. The crew began to grow suspicious about our course, and so the captain orchestrated a means to make sure they would not get in the way. He poisoned us. All of us. And so now we are here.

This does answer a number of questions, but raises new ones. Who is this Ieana. She was supposedly a scholar of ancient ruins, but no. I do not believe that. She is something more than what she first seemed, and even though Athelstan believes the cause of our shipwreck to be circumstantial, I think it holds the answer this situation. This woman is clearly something unusual. The death of the cook, the oversized bite marks, the strange behaviour of the captain. This is something...supernatural. It has to be. But I cannot possibly think of what would be the cause of this. What is this woman?

Regardless....she must be somewhere on this island. We must find her and bring her down. And take whatever she aimed to use to get off the island for ourselves.

What's more, we have other problems. Apparently there once was a Chelixian army force that attempted to invade Sargava at some point in time. Whatever the case, they wound up shipwrecked upon this very island. Rumors abound that they have since degenerated into a group of savage cannibals that prey upon those stranded upon the island and on each other. This will more than likely hinder our progress should we discover them to be real.

We have delegated tasks to the passengers. Sasha is tasked with hunting. Gelik has taken to sharing stories and trying to maintain the others spirits. Clearly, these people are more accustomed to an easier life than this. They've never had to live without a bed for more than 24 hours. Jask we have discovered is a cleric of Nethyrs. I know of these lot. They are as unpredictable as their god. He is not getting his knife back until we are certain he is going to work with us. Ishirou, the silent one with the katana, has not said anything or done anything. Useless git. The half-elf, Aerys, has agreed to help guard the camp so long as she's boozed up. I like her style. Furthermore, inspecting the way she moves about and her stance on guard indicates probably a background in martial techniques. I expect her to be a capable warrior much like myself. If she isn't drunk that is. We'll see what happens in the morning.

20 Arodus 4715 AR:

Trying to get that idiot Ishirou to do something failed miserably. Athelstan and Thorton attempted to reason with the man, but apparently a screw came loose up stairs and he began to shout about dueling Athelstan to the death. I immediately stepped in and reminded him that a challenge upon my charge's life is a challenge I will step in to take. This has always been the Dwarven way.

A dwarf is sworn to protect their charge and to put their life on the line to fulfill that duty. It was what my father repeated to me and my sister every day of our early training. It was what the world demanded of me. Back home, weaker dwarves could vie for power by force. Such things result in a duel between the challenger and a champion. Those who choose this route believe themselves to be able to overcome any obstacle so long as they have the will to achieve it. What they fail to account for is that martial skill surpasses any ridiculous notion of dwarven spirit and strength. The dwarves have long since had that indomitable will crushed out of them, but I still have the might of my skill. That is all the force of will I need.

I asked him the terms of our duel. I stated that he must choose whether this was to first blood, or to death. As dwarven custom, the challenger must choose the terms, and those terms must be respected by both parties. A duel in dwarven culture is one of extreme seriousness. There are no loopholes. Your word is your word. He chose to the death.

I allowed him first blow. His footwork was sloppy. This man might be used to his weapon, but he was no trained warrior. I could see it in the way he shifted his feet that he had no proper martial training, and was not taught on how to defend yourself against a much larger weapon. The untrained are usually oblivious to the fact that a great weapon is not, in fact, a slow weapon in the hands of a trained warrior. I have spent my life handling blades twice my size. I was able to bring my blade around faster than he could even adjust his body to avoid the blow. My sword cleaved straight through his neck, decapitating him and ending our fight faster than it started. His head fell to the ground. Etched with shock, marking his last thoughts.

I have taken his weapon. A final sign of respect to the dead, and a trophy of honour for myself. At the end of my service, typically, I must relinquish such a trophy over to my charge, as it was in his name that I accomplished this task. Athelstan might not get the chance to see that happen.

This day has started poorly. The rest of the passengers now look at me with fear. They should know better now. They should understand how dwarves do.

Posted by Morhek at 03-17-2015, 04:04 AM

Name: Athelstan Twice-Dropped
Race: Dwarf
Age: 49
Appearance: Light red hair and beard trimmed to a respectable length, braided and looped to keep out of the way. Red cheeks and nose, from a naturally ruddy complexion or perhaps the Sargavan heat. Wears respectable, though not obtrusive, travellers clothes on top of a chain shirt for protection, though the chain shirt is more often kept in his luggage in the tropical heat unless trouble is expected.
Class: Bard


(Courtesy of Fish)

Tolskeinn always loved Athelstan best. The youngest son, he was only a few decades older than the child of Thormar and Scinna, and treated the boy like a younger brother. When Athelstan was still toddling around the mine-keep, scarcely past ten years, Tolskeinn showed him how to use a dagger, and showed him how to find veins of ore with only a few taps of the knife.

Unfortunately, this love did not extend to Tolskeinn's brothers. Thormar the Many-Horned, brash and violent, was gone from the keep every few years, joining crusades into the Darklands below Highhelm. Thormar and Scinna were warriors, and had little time for Athelstan once he was weaned. Vendel Glitterfinger, the eldest, left Tolskeinn to manage the mine's expenses while he spent away its profits, casting gaudy, amateurish works of gold and silver to decorate his tower enclave and his unusually long fingers. Vendel was softened first by the death of his father, then of his husband, and as the years wore on he became a blubbering mess. Tolskeinn begrudged their free lifestyles, which would surely doom his family to poverty, but the resolution to their slow-brewing conflict seemed far more grisly than he ever could have wanted.

When Athelstan was about fifteen, Thormar returned home in a great rage. The funding for his Angradd-blessed fight against the orcs had been suddenly cut short by what purported to be Vendel's order. Yes, the border dispute would go on without him, and yes, his warriors could last a while with the stores of rations already purchased, but Thormar himself left as soon as he heard, intent on getting answers. He left Scinna, Athelstan's thick-armed and quick-witted mother, in command of the platoon.

All Athelstan remembers is a great argument up at the top of Vendel's tower, and the sound of crying. Uncle Tolskeinn took him into the mines, then, further than he had ever been before. Uncle Tolskeinn told him the story of the first dwarves and the Quest for Sky. Long ago, the dwarves lived in darkness, very, very far below the surface. They were beset on all sides - by orcs, and creatures worse, and even by their own kin. It was only by the strength of one leader, a general who united the race towards one purpose, that dwarves could ever make it to the surface. The general used diplomacy, trickery, and even violence to force disparate clans and subcultures together, and fulfill the Quest. It was unfortunate, but some clans were too vicious and evil to make it to the surface, and the general expunged them without hesitation.

Before Uncle Tolskeinn could complete his tale, a mineguard came running down the tunnel. Athelstan remembers Uncle Tolskeinn's hands on his beard going white as the messenger said that Glitterfinger and the Many-Horned were dead - apparently, Vendel ordered everyone out of the tower so the brothers could speak alone, but Thormar took it as a cue to try to kill his brother and assume control of the family holdings. There was a brief struggle, but a retired jewelrist is no match for a seasoned delver, and Thormar's cold-forged battleaxe was found in Vendel's head. Then, in what must have been a fit of guilt, Thormar smashed through a window and jumped from the top of the tower, landing on his head in the dried-up fountain Grandfather Orgrim built when he founded the mine three centuries earlier. The mineguards rushed upstairs, but only found Vendel and his blood slowly sinking into the cracks in the slate-tiled floors. So, the messenger said, she had come to proclaim Tolskeinn the new owner of the Orgrim Mining Company.

Uncle Tolskeinn's knuckles only grew whiter. "Do you think I care? Gods, I just lost half my family!" In a flash, he whipped out a small blade of mithral and sliced his beard in two. "It is no longer the Orgrim Mining Company. It is Halfbeard, for my father's sons - my kin, my older brothers - have perished, and the Company can never be the same." He heaved Athelstan onto his shoulders, saying, "Stay close, nephew. Only you, Scinna, and I remain."

The aftermath of those two deaths is a blur in Athelstan's memory. Tolskeinn gave the child his father's battleaxe in a slight break of tradition - normally, such weapons are interred when the bearer dies, but Tolskeinn reasoned that Athelstan had little else of Thormar to remember by, and anyways Thormar had died in disgrace. Scinna brought the platoon to the surface for the funerals, but seemed to have contracted some sort of disease in Nar-Voth, and was bedridden soon after. "Uncle Halfbeard," as Athelstan took to calling him, contracted an expert chirurgeon from Thuvia, but even her ministrations proved unable to break Scinna's deadly fever. The warrior held on longer than a normal dwarf, but she seemed to burn up from the inside-out. Athelstan visited her three times before the end, but at each she was unconscious, and Uncle Halfbeard dared not let him into the tower more for fear of contagion. After some weeks of sickness, Scinna passed, and was quietly laid out in the mausoleum where Grandfather Orgrim and all the rest had been taken.

The least personally momentous event, but certainly a topic of relentless economic gossip in Highhelm, was the rapid expansion of the new Halfbeard Mining Company. In just three years, Halfbeard's assets doubled. Dozens of smaller mines, smelters, and smithies around Orgrim's were soon bought out by a man some described as Torag-blessed (though Uncle Halfbeard would explain to Athelstan, there were no gods involved - you simply had to cut out frivolous expenses and focus on efficiency). Athelstan, meanwhile, learned letters and axe-fighting and proper management ettiquette. In his thirtieth year, he began handling some minor contracts for his uncle. Slowly, over decades, he built up a considerable reputation among his adopted father's advisors - his legal writings were ironclad, and his instincts for investment were akin to those of the young Tolskeinn.

All was not golden for the adolescent Athelstan, however. His curiosity and excitement to learn the family traditions waned as he grew, and he grew cold, emotionless in all but the direst of circumstances. Part of him always wondered if Uncle Halfbeard hadn't arranged for Thormar to return home, hadn't intended for him to kill Vendel - and part of him wondered why he didn't seem to care. But he kept quiet, and fulfilled his obligation to the only family he had left. Besides, Uncle Halfbeard was a better parent than Thormar and Scinna combined, and Athelstan could not bear to disappoint such a great man.

In his late 40s, Athelstan figured himself an adult, and went to Uncle Halfbeard's home, a three-room building with high ceilings and comfortable chairs but little else to connote the man's success and power. Athelstan found his uncle talking with a Chelish human who was curiously devoid of hair, garbed in flowing purple robes. The two seemed to be arguing heatedly, but broke off immediately when they noticed Athelstan.

Quelling his irrational nervousness, Athelstan explained to Uncle Halfbeard that he felt ready to become a real partner in the Company. Uncle Halfbeard paused a moment, then looked over at his human houseguest. "I think, friend, I will be needing you no longer." Turning his head back to his nephew, he said, "How would you like to go to Sargava? I've had the maps ready for Gihellent here for nearly a week, but he keeps trying to squeeze me out of a little more comission." He straightened a sheaf of papers and motioned for Athelstan to sit down. "If you accept, you'll go down to Farsouth Mine and oversee a merger between our companies. I know a few of the managers down there - they're looking to retire about now, so you'll have to act as head management for six months before I send down some of our own overseers. It's dangerous country, with demon-worshippers and worse in every little valley, so I'll send a bodyguard along with you."

Athelstan was surprised by how readily his uncle agreed, but never one to lose his wits when an opportunity presented itself. Before Gihellent could cut in, Athelstan nodded once, and the deal was done. The spurned Chelaxian rose. "Halfbeard, you'll regret not sending a native. I know that country as well as anyone, and the Farsouthers don't take kindly to other dwarves." He whisked out of Uncle Halfbeard's home, leaving the dwarves to plan.

In another week, Athelstan was ready. His companion was one Notmerlun Wyvernmane, a veteran of the Darkmoon Vale caravans and a warrior of some skill (so Uncle Halfbeard said, at least). After a cursory evaluation of this particularly taciturn dwarf, Athelstan decided he liked him, and the two set off for Highhelm.

From the Journal of Athelstan Twice-Dropped
19th of Arodus, 4170

Entry One

Dear Reader:

I have never put stock into the concept of diaries. Repositories of secret knowledge are to be distrusted, unless intended for scholastic distribution. A mage who keeps a log of his work uncoded is as much an idiot as a merchant who records all his transactions without obscuring names, dates and figures.

Nevertheless, I fear that I am not long for this world. My companions consist of a dwarf woman who appears to worship the sun to a garish, possibly grotesque extent, and seems mildly insane; my dwarf escort who, while certainly competent, his only loyalty to me is financial; and a Halfling sailor around whom hangs the stench of death and poultry. That isn’t to mention the human woman who hasn’t said a word to anyone since one of the sailors tried to get lucky with her to his injury; the self-important gnome who loves to hear the sound of his own voice, but cannot even set up a camp; the assorted other survivors who washed ashore with us; and the giant eurypterids that have harassed us this morn. If you find this, I hope that you are kind enough to have it delivered to my uncle, Tolskeinn Halfbeard of the Halfbeard Mining Company, offices in Highhelm, Five Kings Mountains. With luck, my family will learn of my fate, instead of endlessly waiting for news. I promise that you will be well rewarded for your efforts, if not in wealth then
in some other debt. If you find this and decide NOT to return it, may you be forever cursed by Abadar.

Today has been…eventful.

I had been travelling to Sargova. I have business to attend to, business that is vital to the interests of myself and my family. Again, I tell the hypothetical reader that he will be well rewarded if he returns this to my uncle. I set sail from Cheliax with my bodyguard, where I spent my time learning of my destination. I had hoped to conduct my business negotiations with a variety of people – the natives tribes of the Mwangi Expanse, and whatever humans, elves and dwarves I could find of interest. I cannot say that I approve of Cheliax, or its patron deity, though they did not seem quite as repressive or miserable as tales had led me to believe. That isn’t to say that I approve, but I suspect exaggeration. From Cheliax I learned enough of the Mwangi trade language, and my elvish is serviceable. I doubt my skald will come into play this far south. I stocked up with rations for the journey once we disembark. I also purchased a map of Sargava, which I expected would be useful.

The ship wrecked. I know not why or how yet, only that it has since washed up, and we awoke upon the beach. My last memory is of the worst meal I have ever suffered through in my life. I suspect food poisoning, though if deliberate or through ineptitude I cannot say. I roused to find a sea scorpion nipping at my toes, and soon joined the fray. Knowing that rations were scarce, I suggested that we supplement them with sea scorpion meat to make them last. I then convinced the gnome – Gelik Aberwhinge, as much a whinger as his name suggests – to help organise the camp, while my party set out to scavenge what we could from the wreck, despite my better judgement. As I told uncle Halfbeard, it’s not right for a dwarf not to have solid earth under him, even if it’s through a few layers of wood or stone. We have have not set out yet.

Given the calibre of my companions, I feel obliged to go. None of them possess what could be called leadership material, so it is up to me to organise this band of assorted characters and see that we make it back to civilisation, or at the very least shelter. I heard tales of this island during my time in Cheliax. Smuggler’s Shiv they called it. Supposedly haunted. I wish I could dismiss their tales as fantasies, but one hears tales. I know little of the wildlife beyond the fact that I expect them to differ from what I am familiar with. I only remembered the sea scorpions by chance from the books I read as a child, of the fossils occasionally dug up from a time soon after Torag forged the world. I cannot expect this luck to hold out, no matter how well read I am. I must learn more of this place, of its secret places and its hidden threats, if I am to make it home.


Entry Two

We made it aboard the ship, lowering ourselves from the cliff to the deck of the wreck. My suggestion that we scrounge the captain’s quarters, where no doubt he stored anything we could navigate with, was summarily ignored by the Halfling nitwit who made a beeline to the galleys and ran into another of the wretched sea scorpions which was summarily dispatched, as well as the body of the ship’s cook, who seems to have been bitten by some sort of snake and perished long before our eventful meal. Chester thinks it was time travelling snakes. She’s quite mad of course, but something odd clearly did happen. By this time, though, the heat had begun to set in. Chester, the mad one, was looking in a bad way.

We continued our search, managing to find a few potions, some maps, the captain’s journal, and a footlocker containing a significant amount of gold, as well as the body of Alton Devers, the first mate, and a few members of the crew. Devers had been run through with a rapier. The crew had been on the unfortunate end of a eurypterid stinger. We reclaimed some rations from the ship’s supplies, some fishing nets, a length of rope and a grappling hook, and the sea scorpion. Meanwhile, we appropriated the captain’s keys and his bed, dumping our haul upon it and dragging it all back with us to the camp. Notmerlen ran off into the underbrush screaming on the way back, and attacked a snake that seemed to be minding its own business. I drew my axe and aided in dispatching it, though not without a bite. I still feel woozy as I write, but I have since had some healing and should be fine.

Upon return to the camp, I read through the captain’s journal. It started out well enough – mundane facts and events, such as buying the ship, paying the crew, and passenger manifests and transactions. Over time, though, the entries became less legible and more erratic. The captain had become obsessed with out of our fellow passengers, a Varisian woman who said she was a scholar, interested in ancient ruins. It was for her he diverted the ship from its set course. He believed the first mate was seeing her in secret. There was more – something about a sea serpent myth. Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes? At any rate, he believed the crew was getting suspicious of his actions, and plotted to be rid of them. Which explains the poison.

I realise that I have yet to meet a sane person on this entire venture. I worry over this fact.

We also confirmed the identity of one of our fellow survivors, Jask Derindi – a former employee of the Sargavan government, who began pocketing money from the Free Captains of the Shackles before eloping. Evidently, he was recaptured many years later, and was being returned to Sargava to be brought to justice. He's also a devotee of Nethys, which makes me apprehensive. I don’t approve of giving him free reign, but he’s a competent healer and hunter, so we agreed to free him from his shackles. Under such desperate circumstances, we cannot afford not to. We're sorting out night watch shifts.

I hope we don't run into more snakes.

20th of Arodus, 4170

Entry Three

We agreed to split shifts for night watch. The half-elf, Aerys Mavato, agreed to take a watch. Thornton, Notmerlen and I took shifts too. Seeing the sea stretch out in the glimmering light of my dancing lights in the dark was a haunting sight. I will be glad never to see it again. I took the last shift, so I was already awake when dawn came.

As if being stranded on this island is not bad enough, we’re turning on each other. The night was peaceful enough, but Ishirou took exception to being asked to help the rest of us survive, and challenged me to a duel – at which point Notmerlen stepped up, and declared that no one lays a hand upon his master. Under normal circumstances, I would have accepted the duel. I am not eager to die by any means, but I have my honour. But the duelling rules allow the challenger to accept a change of duelist, and Ishirou decided my bodyguard would make a better target. He also decided that it would be a fight to the death. More fool him. The two fought on the edge of the camp. It was a quick fight. Ishirou’s head fell clean from his shoulders.

Thornton wasn’t happy about it at all, but frankly, if you’re stupid enough to challenge a dwarf you get what you deserve. He tried to convince Jask to heal whoever lost, unable to accept the idea of a duel to the death. I suggested that if Ishirou was in any mood to reconcile, he would have done it before challenging a dwarven warrior to a mortal combat. Nevertheless, not wanting to seem petulant, I helped Thornton to dig the grave. None of us had much to say, but we did get Jask to say a few words. He’s the closest thing we have to a priest on hand. It seemed the right thing to do.

Now the other members of our camp are giving Notmerlen and I dark glances. I doubt anyone else will gives us such trouble, but I wanted to convince them to help, not make them feel forced into compliance creating resentment. This is going to have repercussions, and I doubt they will be pleasant.

We are debating over who shall gather food, who shall guard and continue setting up camp, and who shall set out to explore the island interior. We suspect there will be all sorts of threats – more animals, cannibals who inhabit the island, and ancient ruins. Not to mention Ieanna is still unaccounted for. We are hopeful that, if she planned to come here, she would have some way to get back to civilisation. We intend to take it for ourselves in our escape.

I am hopeful that we can avoid further bloodshed among the party, but I doubt we can avoid shedding others’ blood. This is a violent place, savage and wild. I am not accustomed to it.

Entry Four

We set out southward into the island’s interior, climbing up a ridge looking down over the inland bay that occupies the centre of the island. We could see the distant shoreline, but not much beyond it. On the ridge, we saw a dimorphodon nest. We were talking about their eggs, and the similarity to Ostriches, and Chester opined that they were a ward against poison, and Thornton decided he wanted an omelette breakfast, so up we climbed. Unfortunately, the mother was keeping watch nearby, and swooped down onto Thornton. I’ll tell you, dangling on a rope from a cliff face and shooting a bow is not easy, but I somehow managed it. We eventually reached the nest, but one of the eggs had already hatched and the rest were presumably not far. We decided that while an egg big enough to make half a dozen omelettes is a valuable commodity, ones filled with stillborn Dimorphodon embryos are simply not worth it. We did, however, decide to keep the chick. I’m hopeful that I can train it, and keep it – some of my books have claimed that Dimorphodons can speak, parrot-like. I’d like to find out.

Thornton thinks he’s keeping it to eat. I will allow him his delusion for the moment.

Tying the chick with a length of rope as a leash, we decided to leave it on a makeshift nest out of the way of predators until we returned. Heading south-east into the island, we found a fresh water spring where we could drink out fill. Regrettably, we think it’s infested with snakes. More bloody snakes. We hadn’t brought much in the way of carrying tools, and Thornton wasted half his day’s rations trying to absorb some in a futile gesture. Chester decided to name the Bergen Memorial Spring. Dejected, we tramped back to camp, only to be met with a heavy downpour that relieved the heat but replaced it with humidity. Notmerlen graciously leant me his leather armour – a chain shirt in this heat is a ridiculous idea, and I regret ever having it. At least the rain allowed our campmates to replenish some of our freshwater.

The half-elf, Aerys appears to be an alcoholic, and had gone through a bottle in one day. On top of that, I was joking with Thornton, about hypothetical worlds without elves, and said something along the lines of “some would say they were better worlds.” Aerys heard me, I fear, and I didn’t get the chance to apologise or explain that it was merely a bad joke, before Chester stunned us by dumping water over her head, and then making a pun before fleeing. I don’t think I’ve ever been so stunned and horrified before. Chester eventually returned, and we managed to convince Aerys not to kill her – she can make fresh water, a valuable skill until we can find a source that isn’t infested with serpents.

Sitting around the camp with Gelik, Jask and Sasha, we started talking about our reasons for coming to Sargava. I explained that I was on my way to Sargava to negotiate the buy-out of one of their prominent mining companies for my uncle back in the Five Kings Mountains. Gelik explained that he was in the Pathfinder Society’s bad graces at the moment, and had been hoping to find the wreck of a Pathfinder-owned ship, the Night Voice, and recover something of value aboard it to get back into their good graces. On the subject of my stay in Cheliax, Jask started talking about his home in Corantyn, and went on to insist that he is innocent of the crimes he has been accused of, and in fact is a scapegoat for the corruption of his former employers. While I’m still suspicious – a guilty man would say the same – given the level of corruption among Sargavan officials I heard about in Cheliax, it sounds plausible. He also claims that proof of his innocence exists aboard a shipwreck, the Brine Demon, lost a few years after he fled Sargava to Cheliax. Sasha said nothing, and I didn’t press her. Aeryn I left alone, lest I end up with another Ishirou on my hands.

Chester just returned to camp. Together, the rest of the camp managed to convince Aerys not to tear her limb from limb. Thornton blamed it on her being a dwarf, and I declared that she’s crazy even by Dwarf standards. Which is entirely true, and I hope she isn’t the death of us all. Between us, and with Thornton’s “generous” offer of more rum, she decided to leave well enough alone.

We’re planning to explore the south west tomorrow.

Feel sick, probably food poisoning. Bugger.

21st of Arodus, 4170

Entry Four

I convinced Thornton to share his rum hoard with Aerys – intimating that if he didn’t capitalise on his “generosity,” I would, and he would not like it. He wasn’t left with much choice, but as long as it keeps the party calm and reasonably amiable, then it improves our chances of survival. Aerys seems considerably less hostile to us than she did last night, and as a whole, the party seems to be coming together. I hope it lasts. While discussing whether to move the camp or to leave it where it is, Chester suggested todays itinerary:
• Find researcher
• Kill snakes
• Befriend cannibals
• Monetise water
I don’t know about the “monetise water” part, but the rest of it seems perfectly sensible (for once), and I especially seconded the killing of snakes. Do not like them.

Entry Five

We decided to explore to the west of the island, and were almost immediately ambushed by another dimorphodon. The island seems infested with them, though I’d rather face one of them than the snakes that keep cropping up. I landed the killing blow as it dived for Thornton, and ended up toppling backwards under a crumpled ball of leather and fur, thrashing to get it off me. Not harmed, but quite alarmed. Thornton then decided to go crashing through the undergrowth after an animal. It looked to my eyes to be a fox, but Thornton swears it was a goat. Notmerlen and I fired our bows at the animal, expecting them to miss and Thornton to return empty handed. To my surprise, one of the arrows landed, slowing it down for Thornton to catch it. So now we had a goat to haul with us, as well as the dimorphodon. Had to heal Thornton of his heatstroke. No use letting one member slow the whole party down, I suppose.

Later in the day, we discovered a shipwreck. Thornton and Chester decided to explore it, suggesting that it belonged to the time travelling snakes. While I still believe they are both insane, I agreed to allow them the use of my grapple to rappel down. They tried to be stealthy, in their own ways – Thornton utterly failing, flailing and thrashing around as he descended, and somehow the sun caught Chester’s face mask (face?) turning her into practically a glowing beacon. If there had been anyone aboard the ship, I doubt we could have gotten the drop on them, even literally. Notmerlen and I descended after them, far less ostentatiously. Fortunately, there appeared to be nobody aboard. Unfortunately, there was nothing much of worth aboard the ship. I found the name – the Tattooed Lady, a Shackles pirate/smuggler ship I read was lost at sea about 50 years ago while in Cheliax. Other than that, the only thing we managed to find was copious amounts of seaweed, which Thornton and Chester immediately stuffed their pockets with. Thornton doesn’t even like the taste of seaweed, which didn’t stop him for some reason. Chester, of course, loves it.

Getting back to camp, we discovered the huts in disarray, the tent burnt down, and Gelik and Jask cowering in terror. Aerys has run off, Sasha has been grabbed by an apparent cannibal raiding party bearing the pentagram tattoos of Asmodeus, and our camp is now decidedly unsafe. Thornton advocated getting a meal in us, a good night’s sleep, and then finding the missing members of the party in the morning. I disagreed, trying to convince the others to set out immediately, without success. Possibly for the best – Aerys was the best tracker, and she’s somewhere else. At the mention of a meal, Chester started handing out the tainted seaweed. We debated goats for a while (are there Seagoats? Spacegoats?) as Thornton and I somehow scraped together a decent goat and seaweed soup, with Chester and Thornton eating the goat tongue and Chester particularly relishing it. I didn’t touch it, and gingerly removed as much of the seaweed as I could.

23rd of

Entry Six

We set a watch for the night, but it passed uneventfully. When the sun had risen, we set out – Notmerlen, Thornton and Chester tracking the cannibals south-west, and myself leading Gelik and Jask south-east to track down Aerys, agreeing to meet up at the dimorphodon nest from the other day if both groups accomplished their tasks. I thought I could hear some sort of ruckus at one point, carried across the jungle, but couldn’t make out what it was. Presumably, the other team had gotten into some sort of bother.

My own group found Aerys fairly quickly. Both Gelik and Jask seemed angry at her, but I believe I managed to smooth the situation. Aerys herself seems suitably contrite at fleeing the attack last night, but I reassured her that the past cannot be helped, and that she should try to make up for it by helping to get her back. She seemed to take heart from it. We are heading west now, to link up with the others – I know not whether they have had much luck finding Sasha, but we are following their trail south. Aerys seemed interested in some bushes, but we haven’t the time to gather food now. We did, however, pass another decapitated snake – this island is infested with sea scorpions, dimorphodons and cannibals, and yet it is the snakes above all else that I loathe. If I never return to this place, it will still be too soon.

Entry Seven

This entry will be spare. Have had a rough day.

Pressing on, we found an abandoned settlement. Thornton explored, discovering another plant zombie. I don’t know what the problem is, but Thornton tried to back away as fast as he could before we agreed to attack. Gellik shouted racist Gnome jokes to bolster our morale as we attacked. I dare say it didn’t work, succeeding only in filling us with mild contempt for the man. While Normelen, Chester and I closed to engage it, Thornton, in his infinite wisdom, decided to throw a Molotov cocktail, splashing on us too. It seemed to work, drawing its exclusive attention to Thornton, and allowing me to catch it with my battleaxe as it passed, showering me in gore. Chester was kind enough to use a water spell to give me a shower. I accepted it graciously. Note to self – when we get to civilisation, find the nearest public bathhouse and buy the most expensive pachage I can to cleanse my body if this filth.

The zombie was about three years dead, and the shelter is about that old. The zombie was a woman, dressed in ragged clothes. Nothing else to identify her. We briefly discussed leaving Gellik and Aerys behind to set up our new base, but decided against it and set out to track the cannibals. Barely setting foot outside of the camp, Notmerlen was hauled up into the air by a snare, but managed to free himself, falling back down. Thornton made an abominable pun about it. “We’re getting close, so there’s some good noose.” We agree that Thornton goes first. I managed to find the cannibals’ trail, and Thornton was immediately hauled up by ANOTHER trap, with Chester tossing her halberd and me throwing a dagger to try to cut him down. We both missed. Aerys was concerned at this, but not concerned enough to say anything, or help. I tried to climb the tree but was unsuccessful. Chester made it up there, as I swung my grappling hook for Thornton and Chester to climb down when he was freed. We continued down the trail, with myself taking the lead this time, watching out for more traps, but even so I nearly stumbled into one, barely managing to escape being flung into the air. Notmerlen tracked the cannibals southward.

Food poisoning caught up with me, and I immediately regretted eating the seaweed. We tracked them to a vertical cliff, with a wooden structure at the top, and started to climb – Chester found and dodged a trap, and then we were accosted by a quadruplet of barbarians at the top who injured Thornton and Chester with javelins. Thornton started lighting and tossing molotovs. Jask heals the two, looks up nervously at the cannibals. I missed twice with my bow, before managing to hit one in the shoulder, and the Cannibals sank two spears into poor Jask. One of the cannibals hurled a spear with a rope, and Notmerlen grabbed on, hoping they would haul him up where he could take them on at close quarters. Gellik and Aerys droped, prone, Gellik managing to stabilise Jask. I helped light one of Thornton’s molotovs, which sailed up and set fire to the cannibals’ structure. With their structure on fire, the barbarians started climbing down, fighting Notmerlen as he was still on the rope. Notmerlen managed to knock one off, unconscious; another fell, dead; I managed to hit another Barbarian with an arrow, while Notmerlen dealt with the last two; I managed to pierce one of the last Barbarians through the heart – he fell, crashing onto Thornton, who somehow shrugged it off. We focussed on the last one, images of Asmodeus and hellfire swimming across our visions in weariness, Jask trying to climb up to heal Notmerlen but thinking better of it. I missed with yet ANOTHER arrow. In desperation, Chester wrapped a Red Pearl Amulet around a rock and tossed it. It failed to hit. Finally we managed to get the last barbarian to plummet off.

It was at this point we discovered that Sasha was INSIDE the structure we had succeeded in setting on fire. Notmerlen managed to rescue her from it with only light burns which Jask easily healed.

I hate this island.

I hate it so much.

Fakedit: Looks like I need to break the posts up into smaller sections. Part 1/3.

Liberty's Edge

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I've seen a few users do this, and I've got a "boni" to pick. The traditional English plural of the noun "bonus" is "bonuses." What's up with the new spelling?

(prescriptivism mileage may vary)

Liberty's Edge

Heatstroke is from Sargava: The Lost Colony. Here is it on the Archives of Nethys.

My question is, what happens if you make your Fortitude save against the spell? It "functions as ray of exhaustion," but that spell imposes the exhausted condition and there a successful Fort save means the target's only fatigued. Fatigued is the condition imposed by heatstroke. Does this mean a successful save completely negates the fatigue? Should that also halve the nonlethal damage?

Liberty's Edge

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1. You nearly tripped.

Liberty's Edge

I'm looking to run a sort of skill challenge where my PCs have to prove their organization is operating within the law in a court hearing. However, I've never seen rules for this kind of thing, so I'm hoping for some feedback on a homebrew.

The situation is this:
The 5-6 2nd-level PCs are adventurers in Eleder (in Sargava, in the PFCS). Eleder is renowned for its harsh and baroque legal system, where whether you are hanged or awarded damages is largely determined by the legal finesse of your legal team. The biggest power player in the city, called Lady Daugustana, is also very anti-adventurer, and the PCs have been on her radar (and have been warned against adventuring by the city guard) for some time now. Nevertheless, the PCs decided to try and found an "Explorer's" Guild on a ship they came into possession of. Last session they met with a bureaucrat pawn of Daugustana, and while they tried to allay her suspicion, she still gave them an order to appear for a hearing. There are a bunch of issues that this bureaucrat wants to address, including threats against some of Daugustana's cronies, an issue of the ship's ownership, and whether the Guild is really an adventurer's guild (which is illegal).

Fortunately, the party is friends with a skilled defense attorney (who they liberated from some slavers) and has a trio of real estate barristers on retainer (the Explorer's Guild is basically squatting on the ship, so they anticipated legal troubles). Obviously, I don't want to make the hearing just some NPC lawyers arguing with each other for three hours, so the PCs will also be contributing.

How should the PCs contribute? Sort of inspired by the PFS scenario "Library of the Lion," I'm thinking they'll be able to use any skill, as long as they can explain how it's useful. However, lawyerly skills like Bluff, Diplomacy, Knowledge (local), and Sense Motive will be more useful than the others. Any check the players make may receive a circumstantial bonus for a good argument.

How will the hearing be structured? I'm thinking the three points mentioned above - threats, ownership, and adventuring* - will be the core of the trial. For each point, four checks constitutes a side's argument, and each side is allowed a rebuttal to the other's argument (another check - so 5 checks total, for free). Each check is made against the judge's Diplomacy DC, but again, any skill can be used (with legalistic skills* getting a +5 bonus). Every success is tallied, representing strength of that side's arguments. An objection check can be made at any time with the opposing team's most recent check as a DC, which gives you an opportunity to negate their check (if you succeed), but carries the risk of reducing your argument strength by one success if you fail.

*In addition to Bluff, Diplomacy, Knowledge (local), and Sense Motive, each point has a specific additional skill that counts as "lawyerly": threats is Linguistics because these were threats encoded into the Guild charter for some reason, ownership is Appraise because maybe the ship isn't worth anything anyways, and adventuring is Disguise as the adventurers attempt to hide their nature. Profession (barrister) gets a +5 bonus as well but none of the PCs have it.

(I'm having trouble figuring out how to make sure everyone gets involved - I know some folks will look at their best skill rank and say "yeah I'll just aid." But if I say that everyone has to contribute an argument, it'll strain credibility and make it hard for the Daugustana side to keep up - that side will probably only have the bureaucrat and a couple lawyers on the team. What about something like, everyone in the party rolls a check for each point, and only the best roll is used - and then has to be explained by the roller?)

At the end of each point, the success tallies for that point are compared for each team. If the PCs have a lower tally for any point (aka charge), they lose that point. Losing the threats charge means the Explorer's Guild is ordered to suspend all activities for one year. Losing the ownership charge means their ship is confiscated and placed in the government's hands. Losing the adventuring charge means the guild leader goes to jail (150 gp bail) and everyone associated with the adventuring aspect of the guild (aka all PCs) is charged with at least one count of adventuring-related offense, with a full trial later.

(Are these penalties too harsh? The guild and ship are only a couple sessions old so logically it wouldn't hurt too much to lose them, but the players have high expectations for them. I think I'd make appeals an option, but there would be fees (or bribes).)

How does this look as a system? Too complicated? Too unrealistic? I know a little about the American justice system but 85% of it is just from movies and TV.

Liberty's Edge

Male Underpowered Warrior 1

I am making an executive decision to make a discussion thread in case we want an easier place to talk to Loather. But you can also just do ooc in [ooc] tags in the main thread.

Drive | Journal | Map

While Loather has a bad web connection, we're going to be doing a play-by-post using this web forum. Paizo has several good tools for PBP, including embedded dice rolling ({dice=Great.}1d20+1{/dice} looks like Great.: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5 if you swap out the curly brackets for square brackets). It also has an out of character format, which is what this paragraph is in (the tag is {ooc} but with the curls replaced with squares). The forum also has a bunch of images to use as avatars, though it unfortunately does not allow you to upload your own. Also unfortunately, you can't embed images, so I'll just link relevant ones. I will be arranging maps on Roll20 but if Loather can't access those I'll also link a screenshot here before her turn.

More Paizo info:
Yeah, there are spoilers. Use {spoiler=stuff}things{/spoiler} to open and close one. You can't nest them, unfortunately.

Also, you can make in-character dialogue most noticeable using quotation marks and {b}{/b} tags. "This is Gelik talking," Jask said.

The easiest way to quote someone is to just click reply, but you can also copy text and go like {quote=someone}text{/quote}.

Also, there's {bigger} and {smaller} tags but honestly I never use them?

This guide has more info, though some of it obviously doesn't apply to us.

I'm gonna get the actual re-introduction game post up in an hour or so but for now, here is a thread to bookmark or whatever.

Liberty's Edge

I was reading about Shub-Niggurath and planning a Sargava game when something clicked. Could the "Black Goat"'s name be a pun on a racial slur? After a bit of searching online, I haven't found much agreement on the subject: some folks say it's only a play on "Sheol-Nugganoth" in "Idle Days on the Yann," while others say it's also incorporating the Latin word niger, and yet others say it surely has racist underpinnings. Regardless of the truth, I'm now a bit reluctant to reference this entity in my games.

Is it any worse to use Shub-Niggurath if you've already introduced concepts Lovecraft created? Is that even so bad?

Liberty's Edge

I'm trying to decide between the Sargava, the Lost Colony and Racing to Ruin PDFs for some extra Eleder information. I have the Pathfinder Chronicles: Campaign Setting, but it obviously only has an overview.

The main reason I'm looking to buy one of them is that I'm running a game set in Eleder tonight. It's a backup to our regular Serpent's Skull game, which is still stuck on Smuggler's Shiv, and we're introducing new characters with the idea that they'll replace any who die on the Shiv or in the early phases of RtR. Obviously, I'm going to want both books eventually, but we probably won't finish Souls for Smuggler's Shiv until after Christmas so I'm trying to leave options in case any of my players want to get me something. I'm okay with homebrewing and using the wiki (we did that last backup session) but I'd like to take some of the strain off my shoulders in imagining the city, and a PDF I can sit down and read really helps there. Does anyone have an idea which would be better, for my purposes?

Liberty's Edge

As I am currently running Souls for Smuggler's Shiv, I have been modifying and creating stuff to make the game flow smoothly and help everyone have fun. I'm not doing anything particularly special but in case anyone needs some specific permutation of a stat block or something, I'll post what I make on this thread.

I made a trio of handouts for Ishirou's maps, two of which could lead to later side adventures. Unfortunately, my handwriting is bad enough that it was a puzzle all its own to decipher the journal entry.


Map 1

Map 2
Quellig's Map

I decided to time Yarzoth's entry into the temple based on how long it would actually take her, rather than waiting for the PCs to fight the cannibals. Unfortunately, the PCs took too long to begin exploring the southern portion of the isle, and saw the lightning before they'd begun even planning an assault on the cannibal camp. (They did get within a few miles of it, though.) As they were resolute on investigating but still only level 2, I'm scaling down a few of the encounters by 1 CR.


Z3. Priest Cells (CR 1)

Human skeletons (3)

Z5. Cleansing Shrine (CR 3)

Flensing Room CR 3
Type mechanical; Perception DC 15; Disable Device DC 25; Bypass hidden switch (Perception DC 25)

Z6. Sunken Chamber (CR 3)

Soulbound dolls (2) CR 1
XP 400 each
NE Diminutive construct
Init +7; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision; Perception +2
AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 14 (+3 Dex, +4 size)
hp 11 each (2d10)
Fort +0, Ref +3, Will +0
DR 2/magic; Immune construct traits
Weaknesses mind-affecting effects
Speed 20 ft.
Melee dagger +4 (1-3/19-20 plus poison)
Space 1 ft.; Reach 0 ft.
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 2nd; concentration +1)
3/day - light, mage hand, open/close, prestidigitation
1/day - inflict serious wounds (DC 12), levitate
Str 5, Dex 16, Con -, Int 11, Wis 10, Cha 9
Base Atk +2; CMB -5; CMD 8
Feats Improved Initiative
Skills Perception +2, Stealth +12
Languages Aklo
SQ soul focus

Z7. Dark Lake (CR 4)

Young gibbering mouther CR 4
XP 1200
N Small aberration
Init +5; Senses all-around vision, darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +12
AC 18, touch 16, flat-footed 13 (+5 Dex, +4 natural, +1 size)
hp 38 (4d8+20)
Fort +6, Ref +6, Will +5
Defensive Abilities amorphous; DR 5/bludgeoning; Immune critical hits, precision damage
Speed 10 ft., swim 20 ft.
Melee 6 bites +9 (1d3-2 plus grab)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
Special Attacks blood drain (1d3-2 bite), engulf (6d3-12 plus 2 Con damage, AC 12, hp 3), gibbering (DC 11), ground manipulation, spittle (+8 ranged touch, DC 16)
Str 6, Dex 21, Con 20, Int 4, Wis 13, Cha 12
Base Atk +3; CMB +0 (+4 grapple); CMD 15 (can't be tripped)
Feats Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus (bite)
Skills Perception +12, Swim +6; Racial Modifiers +4 Perception
Language Aklo

Liberty's Edge

This is a bit of a longshot, but is there anything in the rules (archetype, feat, magic item) that would allow a ghoul bloodline sorcerer to affect a serpentfolk with its ghoulish claws paralysis effect? For that matter, is there anything at all in the rules allowing any creature to circumvent an immunity to the paralyzed condition?

I am running Serpent's Skull and one of my players is ghoul bloodline, so if there's no way for him to get around that immunity I'm planning to let him know.

Liberty's Edge

Odds are, if you've got inventive players, you've had a character create these in game. My question is, how good should they be?

A bit of context: A player wanted to load a lit oil flask into a sling (they're a halfling, so they wanted the bonus). The player was envisioning the bottles as small and round, so aerodynamically at least it should work. I was skeptical, though, about whether flasks of oil would actually be shaped that way and be small enough to load into a sling. We agreed to get an answer on the forums later.

So, can you sling molotovs?

Liberty's Edge

If a creature's stat block has

Immmune illusions

is it completely immune to these spells?

Liberty's Edge

Neither the incorporeal subtype nor the monster ability give fully explicit rulings on how attacks work while incorporeal. Gaseous form has specific rules, but obviously those can't generally apply.

From the incorporeal monster ability, you lose your Strength score and get your Dexterity modifier to attack rolls. You also get to bypass armor, natural armor, and shields. Can creatures who become incorporeal make attacks with their normal weapons with no other alterations?

Liberty's Edge

Situation: A wizard has confined a low-Will enemy in a walled prison using silent image. He would like to allow his allies to attack the enemies in the prison without the enemy getting concealment or the allies needing to roll to disbelieve. Therefore, he described himself as being ready to open a "window" in the prison in the blink of an eye, allowing the arrows and magics of his allies to pour in.

The question is, what kind of action would that be? Is it possible to edit an illusion outside of the caster's turn?

Drive | Journal | Map

It was market day in Lamid, the regional center of the Eyefjell Valley and a key food provider for the southern metropolis Indar. Along the waterfront, ferries powered by brawny wollipeds crisscrossed the Rime River, bringing carts and wagons to the eastern landings. All through town, triaxians, gnomes, and elves bustled towards their destination, while an odd dragonkin or two could be spotted flying overhead. And in the Town Square, dozens of stalls hawked egg-gourds, jugana fruit, and five different kinds of shellfish. Staying in a bar until near sunset to beat the heat, Aught and Podrick also heard that a theater troupe had arrived in town to perform a play, and Mayor Geoff Bresnik himself plans to attend.

After departing Lamid, Aught and Podrick began their hike to the smaller town of Kiltar. The track to Kiltar is still heavily rutted from the rains of three weeks ago, so the six-mile path took the flopping poet-whale and his plodding bearlike companion a couple more hours than anticipated. When they arrived at the inn, Podrick flung a purse of silver at the innkeeper and collapsed into the dragonkin stall to sleep.

Aught had hoped to reach the Overlook of Angels some time before midnight the next day, where he would monitor the health of the ley lines and check for graffiti. With Podrick moving only under his own power, though, the Keeper was beginning to think they might not reach the Overlook until the day after. He stayed outside the rest of the night, brooding on this.

In the morning, the cetakin and Keeper went inside for breakfast and to watch people eat breakfast (respectively). They noticed a serpentine sky-priest and a burn-scarred triaxian eating at a central table, along with a trio of triaxian women digging into shyrtak roots and eagle eggs by the window and the weary-eyed innkeeper from the night before conversing with a brown-scaled laialar.

As Aught and Podrick sat/laid down, they couldn't help but overhear the sky-priest and triaxian discussing the same Overlook they'd journeyed to see . . .


After leaving the town about midday to beat the crowds, Sachak Iskalar and Horn made swift progress along the Upper Rime. Around midafternoon, they stopped at a riverside shrine to Desna, which appeared to not have been kept up since Sachak's last visit. The sky-priest left a few rations in the cache and dusted the bird droppings from his goddess' statue, then ushered Horn back on the track. As the sun set, they came to the Kiltar inn, ate supper, and paid for private rooms upstairs.

In the morning, the companions ordered breakfast and re-packed for the journey to Forestdal. They'd ford back onto the western side of the river a couple miles north of there, then push on through Hallowfeld and get to Glacier that night. Horn was slightly nervous about the Eyefjell Glacier - he was not used to such cold, and worried about the strange winter-beasts that sometimes rise up out of the snow. Sachak assured him that they could best any threats in the mountains, but perhaps another climber or two would convince those threats to leave them alone entirely . . .

The four of you are all in the same inn common room and have the same destination in mind. We'll do a bit of RP here (hopefully joining the groups together, but there's a chance for that later as well) and then fast-forward again.

Liberty's Edge

Ctrl-F for "soft grenade."

Are grenades meant meant to act entirely like splash weapons but for the radius? 5d6 nonlethal to the target of a soft grenade on a successful hit, then 5 splash nonlethal to everyone in a 20' radius?

Or are they only meant to act as splash weapons for the purposes of throwing - 5d6 nonlethal to everyone within 20' of a soft grenade?

Liberty's Edge

Male Underpowered Warrior 1

The first order of business is for everyone to get their characters finished. I think we're fairly close to having that done. Tomorrow, I'll post some more info about backstories and so forth.

Reminder to Rynjin and Echos Myron: If you want to roll hp, you'll need to do so in your first alias post. Otherwise just use the average.

And welcome!

Liberty's Edge

Antonal Telthin died as he lived – alone. His sprawling manor lay empty at the edge of the village of Hallowfeld for many years until a famous bard moved to town. Sophia Lasilaran chose Telthin Manor as her home because of its remote location, hoping it would give her a relaxing place to work. Little did she know that Telthin's legacy waited, patient but potent, in the basement below, and that on the night she discovered the hidden chamber her life would change forever.

The planet Triaxus, whose eccentric orbit slingshots it around the sun and skirts the edge of the solar system, is entering its sweltering summer. As glaciers melt and ecosystems shift, a cosmic horror is discovered, and a band of four heroes must step up to prevent apocalypse.

I am opening recruitment for a short adventure designed for four 9th-level PCs, set on the planet of Triaxus in the Pathfinder Campaign Setting. This adventure, “And Madness Followed,” was originally published in Dungeon Issue #134. Triaxus info is taken from articles in Pathfinder Adventure Path #14 and #70.

General Application Info:
Include in your submission your expected posting rate. If you cannot manage at least one post every day, most days, this game will probably run too fast for you to have fun! I plan to make at least two Gameplay posts every day.

Submissions will close 24 hours after the sixth application. At that time, I will select four people from the pool and open the discussion thread. It is okay to post only a short character concept and a bit of backstory – you will have time to finish working on your character if selected.

Time/Place Info:
The starting time will be the beginning of the next Triaxian summer (4795 AR), or about three triaxian generations after the current date in the Pathfinder campaign setting. As no one knows what the state of the campaign setting will be so far in the future, you can feel free to incorporate all kinds of cataclysmic events into the backstory of extraplanetary characters.

The starting location will be the small town of Lamid in the Kingdom of Aylok, which is a member of the expansive Allied Territories. These territories occupy the entire continent Ora, having banded together long ago to defend themselves from the north-western Drakelands. Lamid sits at the mouth of the Eyefjell Valley, where the Upper Rime River joins Gora Creek and runs south to the port city of Indar. North along the Upper Rime are the villages of Kiltar, Forestdal, Hallowfeld, and Glacier, each at higher and higher elevations in the Mountains of Luz. East around the Luz Peninsula is the free city Preita, renowned for its vast stores of knowledge. Lastly, to the west lie the Great Plains of Aylok and the capital of the kingdom itself.

Character Creation Guidelines:
  • You have the option of rolling 3d6 straight down or 15-point buy. You may roll before deciding which to use.
  • Characters should be level 9 (including CR of base monster, if applicable). We will be starting at 50000 XP and using the Fast experience track, though it is unlikely that anyone will level up over the course of this adventure.
  • Any class is suitable for this adventure.
  • Suitable races for this adventure include dragonkin, dragons, elves, gnomes, laialar*, ottiks**, poet-whales**, sky-priests**, and triaxians (transitional or summer-born). Other races may be suitable, but you'll need a reason for them to be on Triaxus and interested in the well-being of this planet. Races with racial hit dice use the rules in “Appendix 4: Monsters as PCs” on page 314 of the Bestiary; you may switch out racial HD skills and feats for ones more appropriate to your character.
    *Homebrew stats given below. **No stats available yet. If you want to play one, post your ideas about the race and we'll try to work it out.
  • Hit points are maximum for the first hit die, even for monstrous races. For subsequent hit dice you can either take the average (8d8, for example, becomes 36) or roll in your first post with your alias.
  • You may choose one trait, or three if you take the Extra Traits feat.
  • All alignments and Pathfinder religions are suitable for this adventure, but nihilist or chaotic evil characters must have a reason to help prevent an apocalypse. Common religions in Aylok include worship of Abadar, Apsu, Asmodeus, Calistria, Dahak, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Nethys, Pharasma, Shelyn, and the demigods of various extraplanar realms. There are also an unknown number of local Triaxian deities; feel free to invent ones you think appropriate to the culture.
  • Triaxus has two major languages: The language of the native triaxian humanoids, called Triaxian, Common, or Triaxian Common, and the language of dragons and dragonkin, called Draconic. Other languages that a native might know include Adlet, Aklo, Elven, and Gnome, along with the multitude of extraplanar languages.
  • Equipment is largely the same between the two planets. Feel free to create Triaxian variants if an item seems like it wouldn't fit in the setting.
  • Starting WBL for a 9th-level character is 46000 gp. You cannot spend more than half of this on any one item.
  • Triaxus at the time of this game uses the Emerging Guns rules set.
  • For races without height/weight and aging tables, you can just pick statistics that sound reasonable. For races with those tables, you can pick statistics within the possible ranges of those tables, or roll.
  • Please include at least a sentence of backstory in your final submission.
  • If you have any issues reconciling the Triaxian lore with mechanics in the Core Rulebook and other sources, let me know and we should be able to work out something more appropriate to the world.

Play Info:
This is just a normal play-by post, where you post your in-character actions, speech, dice rolls: 1 = 1, and out of character comments in the Gameplay thread. The Discussion thread will be available for more tangential out of character discussions.

I plan to use Google Drawings for maps. If everyone in the party is willing to use roll20, we can use that instead. To make your movement more obvious to me, draw an arrow from your initial to your final position, and delete that arrow some time before your next turn to prevent clutter.

Combat will proceed through the following steps: 1) Opposed Perception/Stealth checks, if applicable, are made. Surprised parties are identified. 2) I roll initiative for each individual creature and rank the rolls. 3) Surprise round occurs. I will wait for PCs to act in the surprise round, but no more than 24 hours after they are prompted to act. 4) Normal initiative begins. Again, I will wait for PCs to act for up to 24 hours. 5) Combat ends.

At any time anyone may post advance actions for as far ahead as they want and with as many conditions as they want, and I will try to NPC those actions exactly as stated. If you miss the 24-hour mark, I will try to NPC you with an action that consumes minimal resources and doesn't put your character in greater risk, and then move on to people lower in initiative. With advance warning, the 24-hour cutoff can be extended.

House Rules:
Apart from those covered elsewhere in this post, I have a few additional house rules and interpretations. They're pretty malleable and most of them are very unlikely to come up, but here they are . . .
  • Turn Undead can synergize with Alignment Channel or Elemental Channel, effectively creating Turn Outsiders (subtype).
  • For percentage rolls, high is good for PCs, low is bad for PCs.
  • The DC to identify that an invisible creature is present is equal to the creature’s Stealth check, without bonuses from invisibility. Any invisible creature moving adjacent without Stealth allows an automatic Perception check (DC 20) to pinpoint its location.
  • Greater Feint denies the opponent their Dexterity bonus to AC against all attacks, not just your own.
  • The falling rules in Environment take precedence over those in Acrobatics.
  • We will use the “Sanity and Madness” rules in the GameMastery Guide. These conditions result primarily from psychic shock and magical trauma, and since permanent mental disorders by similar names exist, I have renamed the following: “mania” to “philia,” “multiple personality disorder” to “spirit-ridden” (where the spirits took advantage of the character's weakness and were able to possess it), “psychosis” to “amuk,” and “schizophrenia” to “palinopsia.”
  • Experience is awarded whenever a creature is slain; I will track each party members' experience in the Campaign Info tab. If you gain enough experience to level up during a fight, you can do so in the middle of that fight, or wait until you have time to do so. Characters will only get experience for fights they are present for; additionally, if an NPC or allied monster assists you in a fight, the XP will be divided between both PCs and that NPC.

Laialar Homebrew:
Laialar, humanoids with third eyes on top of their heads, inhabit the teeming jungles of the equatorial region during the hot Triaxus summer. These long-lived reptiles rarely take part in the political disputes of drakes and mammals, but a small number still choose to live among other species.

Laialar have no permanent culture of their own – in each autumn, a powerful instinct compels them to migrate to the poles and lay hundreds of eggs, after which they die. In each Time of Floods, rubbery laialar eggs thaw and hatch, and the lizard-like young gorge on arthropods and small mammals as the tundra bursts into life. The young fledge as they grow, eventually resembling scaled, ungainly birds, and begin flying to the equator. The laialar memorize the flight path with cues from their light-sensitive third eye, and it is this memorization that triggers a burst of sapience in the adolescent laialar's mind. By the time a laialar reaches the equatorial region (a leisurely journey taking approximately a year), it is the intellectual equivalent of a two-year-old human.

In the equatorial region, the adolescent laialar congregate in young forests, roosting together and hunting together with increasingly cunning tactics. As they mature and the summer canopy grows denser, the flocks take more often to chasing their prey on foot; as their feathers molt off, they wield primitive wooden clubs and spears in their newly available wingtip claws.

The halfling-sized young laialar are secretive around most creatures larger than them, but are possessed with a penchant for spying and a high-fidelity memory. When a triaxian caravan drives through a jungle, it typically passes on at least a dozen useful phrases to a listening laialar, who then repeats those phrases to their flock. Over the course of 10-20 years, a laialar flock assembles a formidable pidgin from Draconic, Triaxian, and an assortment of instinctual whistles and shrieks.

As the decades pass, some bold laialar leave the flock. Depending on the kind of settlement they enter, these laialar may be enrolled in education, given work, or outright slain. If the prevailing culture is progressive, many of these adventurous laialar will return to their flocks and teach them the culture's language, magic, and crafting techniques. If the prevailing culture is cruel, few laialar will return to the flock, and those that do will warn off future exploration.

As the summer wanes, laialar frequently seek out mates. Through a process not worthy of detail, each member of the pair is able to fertilize its eggs before Portent begins. When autumn does eventually fall, the laialar's wings begin to refeather and it feels compelled to fatten up and eventually fly back to the pole by the path it first took as an adolescent. Some laialar ignore these urges, but as the light fades their body deteriorates; no laialar has lived more than three years into winter without powerful magic.

An individual laialar's cultural experience has extreme variation. Some laialar, living on isolated islands or in remote wilderness regions, go their whole lives without learning a smidgeon of Triaxian or Draconic and manifest a kind of hyperperceptive magic with the aid of their third eye. Some laialar lost their flocks to war or natural disaster, and have adjusted to life in a settlement or have set off to roam the world alone. Other laialar simply left their flocks and never looked back.

Physiology: An adult laialar stands between three and four feet high and has mottled green scales. Its eyebrows are heavily ridged, with a small spined crest going down from the base of its skull, and its two front eyes are black. The third eye, which is usually white or yellow, is just above and between the eyebrow ridges.

The wings of an adult rarely bear any feathers, but are well-muscled and end in a pair of grasping claws and an opposable thumb. An adult's torso leans forward, balancing the body on thin, sinewy legs, each ending in four blunt-taloned toes. The neck spines continue all the way down to the end of the laialar's short, tapered tail.

Laialar have only one physical sex, and are able to both fertilize and lay eggs. They may have any gender, but it is commonest for them to feel affiliation with neither masculinity nor femininity, or with both. Laialar living in Ning sometimes identify with the androgynous ukara, though none have ever actually become Battleflowers.

Personality: Laialar occupy a full range of humanoid personalities, with three commonalities. Firstly, the reptilians often tend to shyness, and will only contribute to a conversation when they think they have something very important to say. Secondly, those living away from other laialar for long periods grow jaded or apathetic; especially as the light fades, these laialar feel cut off from the world, and may behave erratically. Lastly, laialar who know of their species' natural history are unusually cavalier about their fates. They are excited about retracing their first flight, which most laialar remember as a sublime, joyous experience.

Alignment and Religion: Laialar tend to be more chaotic than triaxians, having acted on instinct for a good portion of their lives. They have no particular predilection on the morality axis; some laialar value the lives of other intelligent beings, seeing them just as the flock they grew up with, but other laialar are bitter or xenophobic, seeing dragons and humanoids only as prey that is too large to take down.

Laialar who come into contact with other cultures often take on the pantheons of those cultures; thusly laialar in the Drakelands may worship Apsu or Dahak or another minor draconic deity, while laialar in the triaxian-dominated continents are more likely to worship mainstays like Asmodeus, Desna, and Pharasma. If a laialar is friends with an elf, gnome, or season keeper (Triaxian druid), it may choose a deity such as Findleadlara, Ketephys, Nivi Rhombodazzle, or Gozreh.

Laialar with no contact outside their flock may instead look to the natural divinity in the world, focusing their third eye with an ascetism rarely seen outside a monastery. Meditating over fresh kills, they contemplate their world's path around the sun, and can sometimes catch glimpses of their world's past and future.

Relations: Forest-dwelling races like elves and gnomes are sometimes the first friends a laialar flock ever makes. These humanoids, sharing a distaste for civilization and its confusing laws, often lend their experience and tools to the learning young adults.

Green dragons variously see laialar as vermin to be eradicated, subjects to be conscripted, or, rarely, as children to be taught. A few laialar do work out a beneficial arrangement with these creatures, but generally they avoid all true dragons.

Summer-born triaxians and dragonkin of the Allied Territories often trade with matured laialar flocks, and many season keepers form stong bonds with the small humanoids. Some dragonkin take laialar as riders. However, ignorant triaxians and dragonkin in the Drakelands are also known to hunt laialar for food and sport, seeing the small creatures as no different from animals.

Adventurers: The most common adventuring laialar is one who has lost its flock. Displaced, and often tormented by loneliness, these laialar itch for the opportunity to hunt in a pack again and the chance of financial security for the rest of their lives. As the Portent approaches, single laialar also feel compelled to seek out mates, which leads them naturally to a nomadic lifestyle.

If a laialar still has a flock, it may venture out into the world just to learn more to bring back. These trips can last years and the laialar's quest for understanding may put it in danger, but bringing home powerful magic and technology will ensure their flock's safety until migration. As it is still early in the season, currently most adventuring laialar hail from such young flocks.

Names: A laialar is just as likely to be named after a general as after a flower; however, where this adventure takes place, the local flock has a few conventions. The Eyebite, as the flock is known, use single syllables to call on each other. These syllables often end with a -t or -k and are said as quickly as possible.
Examples: Et, Cac, Hok, Lat, Hig, Queph, Suk, Tret, Tust, Ull, Veck.

Laialar Racial Traits

+2 Dexterity, +2 Wisdom, -2 Strength: Laialar are not as strong as larger humanoids, but move with precision and are closely connected to the rhythms of nature.

Small: Laialar are Small creatures and gain a +1 size bonus to their AC, a +1 size bonus on attack rolls, a –1 penalty to their Combat Maneuver Bonus and Combat Maneuver Defense, and a +4 size bonus on Stealth checks.

Slow Speed: Laialar have a base speed of 20 feet.

Bond to the Land: Laialar gain a +2 dodge bonus to AC when in forested terrain. They also gain a +4 bonus on Stealth checks in forests.

Celestial Alertness: A laialar's upward-facing third eye grants it a wide visual field. It gains a +2 racial bonus on all Perception checks.

Light Sense: The third eye's primary purpose is navigational. A laialar who spends at least an hour outdoors can determine both the day of the cycle and the linear distance to the equator (in hundreds of miles).

Bite: Laialar gain a natural bite attack, dealing 1d2 damage on a successful hit. The bite is a primary attack, or a secondary attack if the creature is wielding manufactured weapons. If the laialar gets a bite attack from some other source, that attack is one damage die higher than normal.

Languages: Lailar begin play speaking any one language of the player's choosing (excluding secret languages, like Druidic), along with their flock's pidgin, if it had one. Laialar with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following: Abyssal, Celestial, Draconic, Elven, Gnome, and Triaxian Common.

Few of the typical Golarion animals and vermin can be found on Triaxus. I do not have Distant Worlds, which may contain more options, but in lieu of those choices we can assume that there is a close Triaxian equivalent for any animal statistics you want to use. Animals I know to exist during summer include the wolliped (a large herbivorous creature with animal companion statistics already available), mountain-dwelling fire-horned acelopes, sun-loving karbalands that crawl into niches to die before winter, great silver hunting cats, leech-bats, stilt-runners, porabees, and echo moles. Any of those could be made into animal companions or familiars, with a bit of work.

I tried to cover the basics, but I could think of a hundred questions not covered by this post. If you have any, ask away!

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This is a work in progress, but I'm trying to homebrew some different rules for the "Sanity and Madness" section of the GameMastery Guide. As is they seem pretty far removed from reality and in some cases insulting to real-life people with mental illness.

The most important issue, maybe, is the game's definition of psychosis. A psychotic person being chaotic evil is the epitome of Hollywood ableism and severely misrepresents actual psychosis. I was thinking of just removing that option from the list.

Another idea I had was to replace references to "insanity" and "madness" with analogues that make more sense for the rules and flavor. A lot of mental illnesses have no permanent cure and are not brought on by events in a person's life; real-life mental illnesses might be better reflected with a different mechanic. Instead, the mechanics in this section could be called "trauma" or "taint," to reflect that in many cases they are brought on by inhuman pain/stress or contact with alien monstrosities. Some options on the list could be renamed to reflect these causes.

Would these ideas actually help, or am I making it worse? I'd like some way to make interactions with creatures from beyond the Dark Tapestry existentially horrifying, but I really want to avoid punching down. Does anyone have any additional fixes?

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Stand Still (Combat)

You can stop foes that try to move past you.

Prerequisites: Combat Reflexes.

Benefit: When a foe provokes an attack of opportunity due to moving through your adjacent squares, you can make a combat maneuver check as your attack of opportunity. If successful, the enemy cannot move for the rest of his turn. An enemy can still take the rest of his action, but cannot move. This feat also applies to any creature that attempts to move from a square that is adjacent to you if such movement provokes an attack of opportunity.

Is there a feat, ability, or item that switches out "adjacent" for "threatened?"

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If the rider uses As One, am I right in thinking that the mount does not get an attack? Or would the mount be able to if it took Spring Attack?

If the rider has Trample, can the rider gain the benefits of As One when the mount successfully overruns?

You are getting worried. Early this morning your uncle found Laumdae's bed empty and one of the skiffs gone, and, of course, you agreed to help look. But even with the whole family out and nearly a day of searching, you have yet to find any trace of the child. He has always been quick to complain about unfairness, always a bit of a loner, and you suppose he really must have intended to leave. If he is still on the river, even Ampuae's narrow skiff might not be able to find him. In the forest, oxbows and backwaters make a maze to befuddle even the most alert.

So, with your friend Phoyaa, you set out into the woods to look for your cousin. You followed deer trails, mostly, and blazed your own paths when no others seemed apparent. Phoyaa complained about the rain a great deal. Somewhere around noon, you ran into your aunt. She instructed you to go down along the river itself, looking for the skiff Laumdae took. Therefore, after sheltering under a fallen log for a brief lunch of bread and salmonberries, you began that long and stumbling trek. It is very difficult to hike along a forested river's length, and it is even more so in an unfamiliar area. You did play in the forest when you were young, but you never went more than a few kilometers, and now the tortuous waterway is your only guide home. If you do find Laumdae's skiff, will you be able to find Laumdae?

You call his name as you walk, hoping for the slim chance that he will come running up and beg to go home. Hoping he has not drowned or fallen afoul of a forest cat. The rain and the river and the leaves seem to dampen your cries, though, and Phoyaa has stopped calling entirely. The sun is beginning to set.

But just now, as you crunch down a stony beach covered in snail shells, with undergrowth to your right and water to your left, you spot a dark shape 20 meters across the river. It is the skiff!

> Enter command.

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Allowing Turn Undead to also work against outsider subtypes (with the applicable feats): Overpowering, or just pretty good?

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Having played pregens on my first society number, and having subsequently made a real character with that number, do I need to use those chronicle sheets for that character or can I save them for another one?

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If your eidolon is knocked down past its negative Constitution score and returned to its home plane, in regular play it can be summoned the next day at half its maximum hit points. In Pathfinder Society play, however, I've found that I usually don't have time to summon it again before the scenario ends - and consequently can't heal it to full health. Will it be assumed at full health by the next scenario, or do I need to heal it during adventures?

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I'm running a (corrupted) brownie NPC in my current game. In the brownie stat block, it says their spell-like ability dimension door is "self only." When a brownie uses it, do they retain any items they carried?

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Do fey generally reproduce like animals and humanoids, if their form would allow that? Do they pop up via abiogenesis in powerful natural sites? Do they hop over in places where the First World is coterminous with the Material Plane (some of the fey in Irrisen are from the First World if I remember right)?

I found this post which also has some interesting ideas; I'm fine with houseruling it if it comes to that

Does Fey Revisited have this info, or do any other books?

Overthrow the goodthink machine!

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Wow, that's a weird sequence of misspellings that doesn't actually mean anything!

Anyway, I figured I'd spread this around.

($700k in 34 hours????)

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What's up with it?

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We should ban all cars. They kill too many people and pollute too much. They are an emblem of the idea that those who have money should show it. We can let the military have cars, since we trust it.

Yes, I do want to take your cars away.

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Crunchy or creamy

Black or white?

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The best piece of literature known to man, Dr. Brinner has it all. All forms of comedy tastefully blended with a universe or two of philosophies, the classic heroic arc repeated seventy-six times over, characters from across histories known and undiscovered, space ghosts and earth dinosaurs, pop culture references, violence, tragedy, romance, and the ethereal world of the human mind: Dr. Brinner, Ghost Psychiatrist. This thirty-thousand page epic does not look to be wrapping up any time soon (apart from the bimonthly chapter-closings). Some even say that it's still in a warmup phase.

So, if you haven't read it, check it out. If you have, come discuss!

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we don't have a thread for this yet?

Did I miss it?

anyway it's pretty terrible like wow f%%@

See, one can compare this to people's listening habits and determine who is up to ILLEGAL ACTIVITY.

Or, you know, who is youtubing or pandoring or lastfming or whatever.

I probably spend ten bucks every couple of months.

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well isn't this a s!*@ty day

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We all love and enjoy food, and we like to talk about it. However, some of us have strong opinions about food, and others of us don't want to debate about food all day long. I propose a Food Subforum, where those of us who like to discuss food can talk to our heart's contents. Sure, it'll make the Off-Topic Discussions forum less popular, but at least we won't have food discussion all over the place!

signd, a concerned citizen

Since we have Music and Movies forums . . .

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After a lifetime of study, I have determined that there are three Universal Condiments:

I. Peanut butter*

II. Cheese**

III. Avocado***

*None of the creamy s~&+
**Any kind will do
***No, not guacamole, that is just salsa with avocado topping

There is a fabled Fourth Condiment, but I have heard . . . only tales. It is said to be found in the mysterious nation of Italy. Its name is powerful, and I will only reveal it to those who share my righteous search.

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They'll be doing reruns, but it's JUST NOT THE SAME.

I grew up on these guys.

I guess they've been hinting at it for a while.

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<I hate HTML!!!!!!>



<spoiler: I don't actually hate it>

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Today tumblr* exploded with reblogs concerning Joseph Kony, his Lord's Resistance Front, and an organisation known as Invisible Children. Most of them featured a video compiled by members of Invisible Children.

When I watched the video, I tried to suppress my scepticism. A national movement is based in optimism, not pessimism. I boosted the message on all the hella platforms I'm linked the f+!~ into.

Anyway, thoughts?

here are some links I found

I'm quite surprised there aren't any threads about this yet.

*and some other things I don't care about

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What is it?

and where can I get some >;] >;] >;]

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Will Short-Z don't know the meaning of the word.

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