It really saddens me to see you go, STR Ranger. I've really enjoyed playing with you in both this game and in the Legacy of Fire one. I do hope you get things sorted out, and that I have the chance to play with you again some day.
As for the pace of this game, Waife, don't worry about it. Take all the time you need. We'll be ready when things get moving again.
I've sent out several PMs, and but I've not been able to find a fifth player. People seem to feel that they are already too busy. Granted, I'm petitioning a lot of play-by-post veterans that are in multiple games and are content with them. I've also spoken with a few people I used to tabletop with, but they don't seem interested in play-by-post.
I'm really surprised it's been so tough to find a fifth. I'm not quite sure who else to ask at this point.
I do prefer maps. I enjoy the tactical aspect of Pathfinder, and especially as a rogue, I value knowing exactly where my allies and opponents are. Rois will almost always be working to move into a flanking position, and knowing what it takes to get there is extremely helpful. For instance, it lets me weigh the risk/reward of using Acrobatics to avoid provoking an attack of opportunity (if I need to move four squares to get a flank instead of three, I'm more likely to play it safe).
In the game that I run on these boards, I make simplistic maps using spreadsheets with Google Documents (I'm happy to say more about this, if you are interested). It's easy to move "markers" around on them, and all changes update the same link, so everyone is always looking at the current version of the map. A lot of DMs use MapTools, though I don't know to. Such maps are much better looking than Google Docs, but they may take more work.
I'm also a player in a game that doesn't use maps, and it works, but encounters aren't quite as engaging as a result of not knowing exact placement.
Yeah, it's hard to say, not fully knowing how many might be incoming, but Ethaniel will stick with the others. I don't think split-up-and-run is a bad strategy, considering we're less likely to get surrounded if we take the opportunity to flee in different directions, but the thugs might all go after somebody that is no good at hiding/running. Furthermore, we're now marked by these guys, and if they're willing to attack us in the street, we'll never be safe. If we can hold them off now, they might think twice about bothering us later.
Then again, the gendarmes might break up our little fight and arrest Ethaniel at which point he'll fly into a paranoid fit...more of a paranoid fit than usual, I mean.
As to the Molthune game, yeah, it is a little funny having a goblin in it. It does say in the Inner Sea World Guide that Molthune recruits monsters into its ranks, but Cettigne's militia is a little different, since it was absorbed by Molthune relatively recently (10 years before game time). The GM has made it clear to the player that playing a goblin will be challenging and that many NPCs will be hostile to his character. All of the other PCs are dubious of the goblin, and one is outright disdainful. We've been ordered by the Marshall to work together, so we'll see what happens!
In any case, the spot is still open.
I just started playing in a game on these boards, set in Molthune. It's centered on the formerly independent city of Cettigne, and the Free City Citizen's Militia which has protected it for years. Less than a week into play, our axe-and-shield ranger left us, leaving us minus one front-liner. The DM encouraged me to ask around for player interest, and I can think of no better place than here. I've had a great experience playing with everybody in this game.
He and I didn't discuss the particulars, but I imagine it's first come, first serve. If you're interested, go ahead and post in that game's discussion thread.
The current party is:
I've been thinking over my rogue idea all day, and if it's okay with you, I'd like to submit it instead of my sorcerer.
I haven't wholly abandoned the story I've developed; the rogue would be Rois Moch, the uncle. He's not a young man (38, so subject to the middle age ability adjustments: -1 Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, and +1 Intelligence, Wisdom, Charisma), but he is nevertheless a capable soldier.
I was wondering, there is a new alternate racial trait in Paizo's Advanced Race Guide that gives humans a +2 to a second ability score of their choice at the cost of the bonus feat and bonus skill. It's in an official Paizo product, but I wanted to run it by you.
Movement: 30 Feet
Rois and his brother, Oshual, were sons of a wealthy merchant in Cettigne. After their father died, the brothers took over his export business, shipping gems and rock from the Menador Mountains and lumber from the Backar Forest up the Nosam River to Canorate, Korholm, and out across Lake Encarthan. After a few years, though, the Molthuni bought less and less of their goods, and the brothers were forced to send more and more ships to Kerse, Caliphas, and Thronestep. Many of these ships did not return. Oshual, the younger of the two, blamed the increasing number of shipping companies operating in Canorate. His elder brother, Rois, blamed Nirmathas, certain that the nation's agents were preying upon their ships once they passed out of the safety of Korholm.
And so it was that Rois chose a different path for the business, and insisted that they begin trading directly with Nidal. Oshual was vehemently against this. Sending caravans through the Umbral Basin was no small gamble, and besides that, Oshual was a devout follower of Iomedae, and wanted nothing to do with the Nidalese. A fierce argument ensued, after which, Oshual declared that he would sail for Lastwall, to start a new life in service to a greater cause. Rois gave him a pittance of the inheritance due him, and the younger brother departed.
Trade with Nidal proved more of a disaster than Oshual had predicted. Entire caravans disappeared. Shifty-eyed merchants, babbling in Shadowtongue, cheated Rois left and right. It only took a year for him to lose every silver to his name.
And then Oshual returned, with a wife, already several months pregnant. Allesse, she was called, and though her eyes were strangely mismatched and her skin a ghostly pale, she was the fairest creature Rois had ever laid eyes upon. He was sure that as his brother had been blessed, he had been cursed. Oshual never said a word about the collapsed business and the vanished wealth. He had returned to Cettigne full of laughter, with no thought for his brother other than forgiveness.
Hard times had fallen on Cettigne, and the brothers struggled for a way to make a life for themselves. It was Oshual who decided to join the Imperial Army. They promised land and citizenship to those who would serve in their ranks. Perhaps some of the younger brother's desire lay in the fact that he had never arrived in Lastwall to take his oaths, for he'd found himself in Caliphas first, and had met a hauntingly beautiful young woman. Or perhaps he simply wanted a fresh start, and a modest home in which to begin a family. A fortnight after his return, Oshual and Allesse left Cettigne, to live in the foothills of the Menadors.
Rois, though, had lost any sense of aspiration. After destroying his father's trading company and shunning his brother, he had become a broken man. He did not reach for anything as lofty as Molthuni citizenship, nor could he imagine leaving Cettigne. He sold his father's house, pledged himself to the Free City Citizen's Militia, and took up daily prayers to Iomedae.
It was some years later that Rois heard word of his brother's death. Oshual had possessed a modest command in the southern outskirts of the Fangwood, and a Nirmathi arrow had found him one morning. Allesse and her seven-year-old son, Ganter, were left without father or husband. Oshual's citizenship was long overdue, but it had never been awarded him, and so his widow lost the house and land as well. Rois was angered by the way that Molthune treated the family of one who had given his life in their war, but he knew his role. He knew the way of The Inheritor, and so he took in his Allesse and Ganter.
It was hard to live with the woman under his own roof. Her beauty had not faded in the least, and her very gaze could stop Rois's breath. Throughout, though, he remembered that she had been his brother's wife, and so was sister to him. Divine law spoke against the thoughts that ran wild in his mind, and after a time, he was able to quiet them.
Ganter had all of his mother's charm, yet he made no friends. He was apprentice to a cobbler for a time, but the man had become uncomfortable with the youth. It was the boy's strange, deep-green eyes, he had claimed. Not a coin came in from mother nor son. Years passed, and the very last of Rois's savings dried up.
In nearly five years, Rois had never heard Allesse raise her voice, but that changed when he suggested that Ganter join the Free City Citzen's Militia. He had first mentioned the idea during breakfast, the day after Ganter had turned twelve. It did not seem possible for Allesse to grow any paler than she already was, but she nevertheless did. Her anger was a powerful force, and even then, it left a palpable sting.
Rois was undeterred, though the boy was well past thirteen by the time his joining the Militia became a necessity. With every trace of spare coin gone, Rois could not support Allesse and her son on his meager pay, for though he had served loyally for nearly fifteen years, even through Molthune's acquisition of Cettigne, he had never been considered for officership. Ganter would help support them by joining, and perhaps would learn to be a man, which was something his mother could never hope to teach him.
Things did not transpire as Rois had planned. He thought, at the sight of Captain Meinen and his armored soldiers, Allesse would acquiesce at last. It was not meant as a threat, but as a display of the kind of man Ganter was to become. But the mother had grasped the boy with desperation, and at his superior's command, Rois had moved to pry him from her grasp.
He did not expect her hand to come slashing across his face. He did not expect her nails to tear into his skin. He did not expect that the boy would take command of some strange power within him and wield magic. He did not expect to lift a chair and bring it down on his nephew.
But those things happened all the same.
The cuts have since scabbed over, but the scars on Rois's face will never go away, nor shall the ones on his heart. That he once loved the woman who did this to him mystifies him, but that feeling is not half as strong as his shame. His father's legacy, his brother's family, Cettigne's independence...he had failed to protect them all.
What is a man who, in his middle-years, has sowed nothing but failure? What can such a man hope to do?
Ganter is a slight youth, just shy of fourteen years. Most boys his age have the beginnings of beards, but Ganter's face is bare. He does not move as his peers either, as an otherworldly grace seems present in his every step. There is something strange about the boy, there is no doubt about that.
Movement: 30 Feet
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, witchborn."
Ganter did not acknowledge the voice. He stared down at his unfinished porridge.
"Did you hear me?"
Ganter looked up. It was yesterday's sparring partner. The bruises began to ache again.
"That's my seat you're sitting in." The brawny boy's wide face grew wider still as a grin spread across it. "Get up."
Ganter looked around the common room. There were a dozen open spaces on the benches. But mentioning that would do no good. Nothing Ganter did mattered. He was helpless.
"Come on, boy." His uncle's voice. The common room melted away. The din of men talking and the clatter of plates faded. It was that night again. How could it be that night again? He could not shake the scene from his head. How long had it been? There was no way of knowing. Nobody would tell him.
The Captain was there, and Uncle Rois. And mother. "I've packed a bag for you, boy. Time to be getting along. You'll see your mother again before the week's up. Come along then."
If I had gone, then, when he asked, would it have happened as it did? If I had walked over to him, would she have...?
"I guess I'll have to get you up myself!" Ganter offered no resistance. The brawny boy was strong, and once he had his hands on Ganter's shoulders, he lifted him with ease.
Mother held me so tight, I could not breathe. Uncle told me to come, and I just stood there. If I had gone to him, he wouldn't have come for me. He wouldn't have...
The violent scene played out again in his mind. His mother, holding him, begging incoherently. A blurted word from the Captain, and his Uncle stepping towards them. The sweet smell of his mother's breath, turning foul. Her eyes, glowing. Uncle's footsteps. Her nails, growing long.
I felt them against my back, pressing into me. If I had taken her hand, would she still have raised it against Uncle?
She twisted away from him at inhuman speed. Her flailing. Her reaching for Uncle Rois's face. Her hand raking across his face. The shout of surprise, and pain. The blood.
The Captain shouting. The other soldiers coming. Mother wailing at them. And that's when I felt it. I wanted them to leave us alone, that was all. It was as if a power took over his hands. A voice that was not his own moved his mouth. Power pulsed through his body.
One of the soldiers, down upon the ground. The other blinking. Cursing. Drawing his sword.
"Leave us alone!" I remember shouting that. I remember my face, twisting in fear. It was not my own.
The soldier dropped his sword. He gasped, and fell over his own legs. His eyes were wide.
And then uncle came from behind. Whatever he swung broke across Ganter's shoulders. He cried out. The world became dark. Dark, with screams. His mother's screams.
He felt himself hit the floor. The brawny boy shoved him down, and a moment later, dumped the remains of his porridge on turning face.
"Little witchborn won't even fight back. I damn sure hope you're not in my squad." The brawny boy laughed.
The porridge dripped down his face. Warm. He remembered the warmth of the sun, and suddenly, he was back at the cabin, in the foothills of the Menador Mountains. His father was there too, still alive. Before he went to war. He heard his mother's laugh. Her laugh was bright, as it had been before she'd been widowed. Before the Molthuni had taken their pastures.
"Five years of service to become a citizen, no fewer." the men had said. That was the day before they left their home, bound for Cettigne, and the roof of Uncle Rois. Several years ago, but it seemed longer. It seemed a lifetime.
What if father hadn't died? Would we still be there?
The Militia was Uncle's idea. He was a year in talking about it before the night finally came. The night where Ganter should have come when Uncle Rois had bid him. The night where he stood still as his world came apart.
"Get up, witchborn, and clear out. Somebody is going to trip over you." The brawny boy laughed.
"My son." she had said, the morning of the last day he saw her. "Be brave. I will find a place for us, somewhere else, only be brave. And patient."
Where is she? What happened to her? "What did they do with her?" The question came out of his mouth. He had not meant it to.
"Who, your witch mother?" The brawny boy had a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Probably burned her to ash. That's what you do with her kind. That's what we should do with you."
Ganter felt the warmth of the porridge, sliding down, as the pain flowed through his face. He cried out in anger at the brawny boy. He did not remember standing up, but he was on his feet. The brawny boy's stupid smile was gone, replaced by his gaping jaw. His eyes were wide with fear. Just like the soldier's.
And just like on that night, Uncle Rois came from behind. He seized Ganter, and pulled his arms down, tucking them into this strong embrace. "Easy, boy." he said. "Easy now."
Uncle was strong. But not as strong as mother. Not as strong as Ganter.
I set aside some time tomorrow morning to post my character stats and polish my backstory, but rereading your post, I'm now wondering if recruitment closes as soon as it's Friday, or if it's open through Friday. If it's the former, I'm definitely still interested, but won't have the detailed version completed tonight.
What's changed from the information I've posted above is that I would be playing Ganter, the boy in question, instead of his mother. Ganter is a sorcerer with the Accursed bloodline, as the mother would have been, had I decided to submit her as my character. The story unfolds roughly the same (Ganter's mother is a changeling widow), but when his uncle tried to take him from his mother, she attacked the older man with her claws (which changelings have), and scratched his face badly. Other militia men moved in to subdue her, and Ganter unintentionally launched a Sleep spell at them. One of them fell unconscious, and the other stumbled back for a moment before drawing his sword.
Seeing drawn steel, Ganter cried out at the soldier, demanding that he leave his mother alone. At this, the boy's face became twisted and horrific to the soldier's eyes (Bloodline power), and he dropped his sword and backed away in fear.
But Ganter's uncle had snuck up behind him, and brought a chair down over the boy's back. As he blacked out, Ganter's aching head was filled with the furious screams of his mother.
He awoke in the barracks, some time later. Nobody will tell him where his mother is, only that she "...will be safe as long as you obey."
Ganter began working with an arcanist three days ago, and while the man smiles at the boy and says little to his face, Ganter has heard him tell others that "...the boy is a prodigy, but neither he, nor I, understand where such power comes from, or why so suddenly."
Another new recruit called Ganter "Witchborn" just yesterday. This recruit was found not long after, hiding in the washroom, trembling with fear.
Uncle had said the Militia would be "...good for the boy." Would the boy be good for the Militia?
Sorry to lose you, Thom. I though the monk/cleric hybrid sounded neat.
The more I think on it, the more I am likely to keep roughly the same backstory, but to play the young son (as a human), rather than his mother. A middle-aged changeling widow in the Militia was just feeling like too much of a stretch. I'll have my crunch and backstory finalized by Friday.
This thread is a good place to start, Kagehiro.
Also, underneath the Preview, Cancel, and Submit Post buttons, there is a guide on "How to format your text." This gives basic instructions on how to link, italicize, bold, spoiler, and use dice expressions.
Another great way to get a sense of play-by-post is to read through some game threads. Every GM and group does things a little differently, but you'll notice some trends and see some cool roleplaying.
I'm not necessarily imagining that the Militia isn't voluntary, but as my character is a widow who is dependent on her brother-in-law, she has little say in the matter. The boy's uncle is basically his legal guardian, as I see it. He's not a bad guy; he thinks the Militia does noble work, and that it would be good for the boy.
This captain could be pretty unscrupulous, but I don't think of my character as trapped by her hasty words. She inadvertently proved her value to the captain, and would stand by her offer if he would leave her son out of it.
As for why this recruitment thread isn't drumming up more popularity, I think Thom hit it right on the head. People are eager to apply for the APs, and many have characters already built for one or more of them. An original story is an unknown quantity, and while some players find that enticing, others do not. It's a shame, because in my experience, the original stories often make for the most memorable games.
I play with some great people on these boards, and if you like, I can direct some of them to this thread. I'm not sure what their interest/availability is, but you might get some bites.
I'm currently thinking of a changeling sorceress who has joined the Militia in place of her thirteen-year-old son. The two of them had been living on the soldier's pension of her late husband, but that money ran dry a year ago, at which point the man's brother agreed to take them in. Recently, he has insisted that the boy join him in the Free City Citizen's Militia. His mother vehemently protested, fearing her son would be sent to war in Nirmathas and killed.
Despite the feelings of his brother's widow, the boy's uncle summoned a captain and a handful of militia men to collect him. The fearful mother intervened, and in a moment of desperation, pleaded for the Militia to take her in her son's stead. This amused the captain, who then ordered the boy's uncle to pry his nephew from his weeping mother's arms. At that point, the mother's sorcerous powers emerged for the first time, and her unintended spell sent her brother-in-law to the corner, quaking in fear. The other militia men panicked, but the captain called for them to stand down.
With a grim smile, he declared that he would accept her offer to join. The Militia could use a "mage."
I will write this up as a backstory, with more details, and with names, but that is the basic idea I've been kicking around. A forty-year-old woman with latent sorcery may not fit with your vision of the Militia, however, so I wanted to toss it out there before I really fleshed things out.
A few other details about my character:
- She has no idea she is a changeling. She felt her mother's call from the Backar Forest years ago, but she had taken vows to Iomedae, and so ignored it.
- She served in a convent dedicated to Iomedae from infancy until the age of twenty-five, at which point a visiting priest became certain of her heritage and ordered her to be cast out.
- Shortly after she was expelled from her life as a nun, she married, having few other options. Her husband died in a battle, though I have not yet decided which one. In any case, she fears the same fate for her son.
- She has the Accursed bloodline, detailed in Ultimate Magic.
Let me know what you think. I would be willing to rework things to fit the game, but I'm most interested in playing a sorcerer or wizard, as I have yet to do so in Pathfinder.
In any case, I'm happy to see that somebody is planning to run a game set in Molthune. It is an oft-ignored, but nevertheless awesome part of Golarion.
So after sitting down with the Lands of the Linnorm Kings book, I am favoring the small town of Frembrudd over the much larger Kalsgard as the home of my character, Yamamoto Seiji. Even though there is a sizable Tian community (called the Jade Quarter) in Kalsgard, the more I think about it, the more I like the idea that Seiji's family was in a position of servitude to the Amatsus and fled with them across the Crown of the World 60 years ago, and because of that connection, also changed their name and went into hiding. The largest Tian population center in northern Avistan, then, seems a poorer choice as an origin point.
Frembrudd is located on the Ironbound Isles. It is a settlement of just over 1,000 built on a cliff face. A series of pulleys and winches move platforms up and down between the town and the docks below. A small group of artisans and servants of the Amatsus journeyed there to start a life after separating from the royal family in Kalsgard. This was in the time before White Estrid brought a more progressive way of thinking to the Ironbound Isles, so when these artisans arrived at Frembrudd as pilgrims, they were ostracized and only allowed to live at the base of the cliff, on the docks. This was less than ideal, as they had hoped to hide away from the public eye. They were able to open a few shops on the harbor, but they lived in poverty and were susceptible to disease. Ever adaptable, they used their knowledge of eastern alchemy to maintain their health.
Eventually, their skill at magic and chemistry was noticed and appreciated by seafarers who did business in the port. This brought wealth and stability, but also outside attention. That is when the Frozen Shadows came.
I am still working on it, but that's the basic idea. What do you think?
One other thing, I was hoping that (a few years later), Seiji would be a part of the caravan that the goblins attacked (w/ fireworks), and Shalelu saved him (hence, the trait). I don't know what your plans are with that caravan, or with Shalelu, so I wanted to check in. It's not a big deal if that doesn't fit with what you envision...I can rework any of this.
Looking more carefully at the class, I think either a melee alchemist dependent on mutagens or a ranged alchemist dependent on bombs would fit the character and could be a lot of fun. I'm flexible there. What is certain is that either way, he will deal big damage, so he will most closely resemble a striker with some support built in.
Alchemist is a cool class. I'm sort of kicking myself for not investigating it more closely earlier. My preference for playing clerics has blinded me yet again.
Working on background now. I've been meaning to pick up the Land of the Linnorm Kings book anyway, and that might have some pertinent info about the Tian population in Kalsgard. I've decided to go with the Rescued trait in regards to my character's relationship with Shalelu. I was looking at Student Survivalist, but I think Rescued makes more sense and is a more dramatic choice.
Working on a Tian-Min alchemist, formerly from the waterfront district in Kalsgard (where there is a sizable Tian population, according to the Inner Sea World Guide). He traveled south to Varisia in search of specific components he was told could be found there, but became separated from his caravan after a bandit attack and wound up being rescued and trained by Shalelu Andosa.
Details are vague at this point, and I am willing to be flexible, but he would not be a melee character.
I've always been curious about alchemists, but have never seen one in action or built one. They seem pretty flexible, and nobody here has put one forth yet, so I figured it would be a good route to go.
The brief background above sounds innocuous enough, but I was hoping for my character to be an unwitting adversary of the Five Storms. He knows what oni are because they murdered his father, and he feels that he is honor bound to destroy any he comes across, but he isn't aware of their plans in Minkai, or their reason for pursuing the Amatsu family. His research into their transformative properties has informed his alchemical work. The components he was seeking are the remains of a dead oni, said to inhabit the wilds of Varisia.
This is all very vague at this point, but what do you think so far?
I think a bard, witch and cleric complement each other pretty well as spell-casters. Though there might be some overlap, they are all very versatile.
I should state the the character I am envisioning will be able to hang in melee from first level on, but he will often prefer to use his whip for tripping (much later, grappling) and his melee touch abilities (from the Luck and Chaos domains).
I currently run two play-by-post games on these boards, and my players are from a wide range of time zones. I've become accustomed to different people posting at different times, but as long as it's regular, things move along. I simply thought I would broach the subject it since you mentioned Australia in your thread title.
I will try to get a background and some crunch worked up in the next day or two. I've been eager to give Second Darkness a go!
If it's not to late to express interest, I'd like to put forth a half-elf cleric of Calistra. He'd be a capable healer, but I'd like to build him as a whip-using controller type (likely taking a 1-level fighter dip at second level). He would do almost no damage, but would provide good support and control.
I am in a very different time zone (Pacific Standard Time, United States), so that might prove an obstacle, but I am a regular poster if you're willing to work around that.
I think there is a Bard with the Archeologist archetype as well. That's actually a pretty neat archetype; one of these days I'd like to try it myself. I think that the other Bard archetypes that give Trapfinding (Archivist and Detective) give up too much other good stuff, but the Archeologist doesn't have as steep a trade-off.
There are indeed some really interesting possibilities as far as combinations, both in terms of story and party balance.
I didn't really mean for it to be so long. I got really into it!
I'll get a character sheet worked up over the next few days. Just to clarify, Pashaj is a cleric, not a monk.
The faithful of Irori strive to reach physical and mental perfection. This is a daunting task for any of the followers, but it is especially so for a man that is not wholly a man. The one called Pashaj is as devoted a follower of the Master of Masters as might be found in Garund, but his body will never reflect the image of his god; since childhood, he has been a eunuch.
This was done at the hands of Maresh Danma, a wealthy and cruel merchant of Niswan, and the first man to own Pashaj. It was a measure taken against all of the man's slaves, for they were to serve his daughters. In the case of Pashaj, however, it may have also been done to preserve his honeyed voice into adulthood. The boy was a gifted singer, and Maresh Danma came to greatly enjoy his presence and frequently kept him nearby. Eventually, the merchant deemed it worthwhile to gain some extra use of his slave, and so he taught him to read and write, so that he might record his business dealings.
Their lives may have continued as those of any servant and master, but for a dream that came to Pashaj one night. In the dream, there was a man more perfect than Pashaj had ever seen. Still, Pashaj could sense the man's discontent. His hunger was enormous. He had been traversing the mountains, and had been wanting of food for days when he at last came upon an orchard of bountiful fruit.
Any other man would have thanked whatever god he worshiped and indulged, but this man thought not of himself, but of a starving village he had passed days before. He pulled the tall grasses from the dirt and from them, he wove a basket to carry the fruit back to the people of the village.
The dream continued, and Pashaj saw the man arrive again at the village, his burden weighing him down. There he set down the basket and collapsed out of hunger. He did not meet his end, though. The people of the village were so filled with graciousness that their joy sustained the man. He revived, and sat in meditation for several weeks, not needing for food.
Pashaj awoke from the vivid dream, perplexed and overcome with wonder. He knew that it held some importance, but he could not understand what it had to do with him. He resolved to sing of it to his master, to celebrate the charity exhibited by this perfect man in his dream. After all, Maresh Danmna was rich. Perhaps he would be moved by the story, and would share some of his bounty with those in need.
But the merchant was not pleased. He was filled with fury at the impertinence of his slave. "You bring the tales of Irori into my home without warrant!" he cried as he struck Pashaj. He beat the boy within an inch of his life.
Weeks later, Pashaj awoke to learn that his master was dead. It was said that the exertion of beating his slave so brutally had been too much for the man, and that his heart had stopped. Pashaj, still confused, thought little of this, for as he had slept in recovery, he had seen more of the perfect man in his dreams.
A great physical toll had been taken on the boy, and few would risk his purchase, even as he grew healthier. Finally, he was acquired by Yarit Paan, an elderly scribe who had admired the boy's handwriting some months ago when doing business with Maresh Danma. Perhaps he was too weak yet for physical labor, but his hands were unhurt, and so they were given a quill and some ink.
Life in the scribing shop was simple and peaceful, and Pashaj grew to appreciate it greatly. His script steadily improved, and Yarit Paan proved a firm, but kind master. It was as good a life as one indentured could hope for. But again, destiny would intervene.
One day a monk of Irori came into the shop, and asked Yarit Paan to transcribe several copies of Unbinding the Fetters, the holy text of the Master of Masters. The elderly scribe, too busy with his own projects, reluctantly handed the task over to Pashaj.
The boy was entirely taken in by the scripture, and read it over and over again with wonder. He recognized the very stories that he had seen in his dreams! He would stay up late, reciting the words in a kind of trance. There was such strength and wisdom in the deeds of Irori; young Pashaj fell into deep adoration.
The day the monk was to come back to collect the copy was one that Pashaj had dreaded, as he had felt such a personal connection to the scripture. In the end, however, he was obligated to return it to the one who had commissioned the shop. When the monk walked in, the young boy handed him the stack of pages. The monk refused them.
"Those are not for me, young believer. They are for you." Pashaj was stunned. He looked across the room to Yarit Paan, but the old man just smiled at him.
"I have heard you speaking in devotion in your chamber every night, and even before that, I knew of your growing faith. Irori has marked you, and so on this day, you are no longer my servant, but his. You will go with this man now, Pashaj. I give you my farewell."
Hardly able to comprehend, Pashaj followed the monk to the temple and into his new life of servitude, this time to a much greater Master.
This story deals primarily with how Pashaj became a priest, but not really how he came to Katapesh. I'll work out further details in the next few days, but he is a missionary (I'll take that campaign trait) that has journeyed to Katapesh from Jalmeray. He shares a connection with the city, because it is here that he was first sold as a slave.
Definitely interested. I've always been intrigued by Legacy of Fire, and there aren't many opportunities to play it.
With the region in mind, I'm thinking I'll submit a cleric of Irori from Jalmeray. He will spread the faith and lore of Irori wherever he goes, and will comment and respond in parables as often as possible.
Mechanically, he'll have some combat ability, but will be built primarily as a support character. I'd like to take the Evangelist archetype from Ultimate Combat, which gives the cleric a stripped down version of inspire courage and a few other bard abilities at the cost of a domain, armor proficiency, and spontaneous healing.
I'll get some crunch and background up a little later.
Just to clarify, do you mean play-by-post?
How do you feel about players that have knowledge of the AP? I run a Jade Regent game on these boards, but I can easily separate player and character knowledge.
If that's okay with you, then I'm certainly interested. It's a great AP. I would likely play some kind of cleric, probably with a focus on battle (Gorum) or control (Calistra). I have story ideas for both that tie into the four major NPCs.
Let me know.
Ha! I am currently playing a Desnan inquisitor from Nidal with the infiltrator archetype. I know what you mean, though. The classic inquisitor doesn't seem to fit Desna as well as the more dogmatic deities.
I think a ranger would work well too. In the end, I really wanted my character to have a strong connection to Desna, and while I considered ranger and Order of the Star cavalier, I ultimately liked the inquisitor better...particularly after Ultimate Magic came out and I saw the perfect archetype. It's just more concretely divine (whatever that means).
Sorry, I was just being silly. He's an NPC from Carrion Crown. A very old NPC...one who would not likely be able to pull of a jump kick.
I like characters that play against type and I do find your concept interesting, but undead are entirely abhorrent to Pharasma. I just don't see it working in her case, mechanics aside.