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The Sand Sage

Kobash's page

Goblin Squad Member. RPG Superstar 7 Season Star Voter. FullStarFullStar Pathfinder Society GM. 418 posts (12,051 including aliases). No reviews. 1 list. No wishlists. 22 Pathfinder Society characters. 13 aliases.

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Dwarf Warpriest 2 | HP 21/21 | AC 20 T 12 FF 18 | CMD 15 | Fort +5 Ref +2 Will +7 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Gyrdwald looks at the rune, his thoughts turning to his religious training. Offering a simple prayer for Clanggedin's guidance, he traces the symbol.

Knowledge Religion + Guidance: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 4 + 1 = 23

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They say "don't quit your day job", but in Sindarintol's case they would probably make an exception.

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Dwarf Warpriest 2 | HP 21/21 | AC 20 T 12 FF 18 | CMD 15 | Fort +5 Ref +2 Will +7 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

"Well look what the cave rats dragged in." A voice grumbles from the door. Standing there, bedecked in the holy vestments of The Father of Battle, a silver helm tucked under one arm, is another member of clan Ironfist - Gyrdwald Wise-Eye.

Bald like Bower, he wears a steel patch over one eye, the surface engraved with the dwarven rune for wisdom.

Also like the monk, he spent time away from home training and serving with the Warpriests of Clanggedin. It was during that time when he lost his eye, though he never speaks of the circumstances. He returned a couple years ago to stand watch at the temple and has spent many a night at Kayber Shieldhammer's table.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Emerging on the far shore, Kraygan rides Haggis up behind the battle to find it already over.



As the group tends to injured yak and dwarf Kraygan checks the dead for anything of note. Plucking out his arrows, he calls to Wren. "Grab yer arrows. Let's make this look less like an attack, and more like a giant temper tantrum." He then takes a couple javelins from the orcs and sticks them in the giant, and takes the giant's club and smashes a couple orcs.

"Torgan, Jorgan, think ye could cover our tracks?"

In response to the question of infiltrating the fort, Kraygan offers an idea. "Maybe we could build a wooden yak filled with kegs o' beer. They bring it inside the fort and get good and drunk. But what they don't know is that we're hidin inside the yak too, and at night we jump out and hack 'em all to pieces!"

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Watching more dwarves and yaks herd onto the bridge, Kraygan looks to the sky and swears to all the gods he can think of. Looking at the stream, he decides to cross the hard way.

"H'yah!!" He kicks Haggis and sends him galloping at the water. At the shore he gives the command to jump. "C'mon Haggis! Yes! YES!"

Haggis Acrobatics + magic saddle bonus: 1d20 + 11 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 11 + 5 = 18

"NOOooooo...!!" Dwarf and yak vanish below the edge of the bridge about halfway across. A giant splash rises in their wake.

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Stroud Zayiin wrote:
How does the group divvy up treasure?

Like most groups: one or two grab items, then the rest is forgotten until after a situation in which they would have been useful.

Opening the door you look into the armor. It lies dusty and seemingly unused, but racks of weaponry—some rusted, others unaffected by the passage of time—hang upon wooden racks lashed to the thorny walls.

Most racks contain weapons sized for small creatures but there are a few sized for those of normal height. Some appear of masterwork quality or perhaps enchanted.

There is another door at the far end of the armory, which according to Tenzekil leads to a parapet.

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Shane hears nothing.

Wait... A flea just farted somewhere.

Sovereign Court

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Human Gentleman | AC 20 FF 19 T 13 | HP 78/79 | F +15 R +13 W +13 | Init +1 | Perception +5

"Allow me to aid your future attempts at humor Master There Grim." Maximo replies. "There are many versions of that joke, but my personal favorite is 'Make like a fey prankster and get the Puck out of here!'"

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With a 57 you could hear a flea fart at 20 paces.

With his enhanced senses Shane's ears feel the tortured screams like needles in his eardrums. He also heard some laughter.

Moving through the door you pass down a short hall before coming to a room bedecked with torturous implements, including a rack, a set of stocks draped with several well-used whips, and a table housing a complicated pulley system for driving thorns into victims from multiple angles. Two punctured corpses lie upon the floor, but a living victim is strapped to the table. Human, he has the dark olive skin and hair of the Ascari people from Marascar and the Lostlands, and it is he who is doing all the screaming.

Standing around the rack are two large spriggans, their hands poised upon winches. A Satyr watches from nearby, a cruel smile on his face that twists into anger at the sight of your group interrupting his work.


Myhm: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Teena: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Troxell: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Xerexis: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Shane: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Tenzekil: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Victim: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Spriggans: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Satyr: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13

⇒ Victim, Myhm, Xerexis, Tenzekil

Troxell, Shane, Teena

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Kraygan chuckles at the young dwarf's reaction. "Heh. When I was young my Pa used to call me Bloody Torag, Dang Dranngvit, AAhhhrgradd! God's-damed Gorum, and sometimes Cayden Getmeanother."

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4


Despite the snark, you make an interesting observation.

Sense Motive DC 7:
Kraygan has benefitted from a certain "ignorance is bliss" existence, but recent circumstances, and limited stores of alcohol, have made him more self reflective, and less confident.

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Back from my camping trip. Should be able to post more regularly now.

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Nectanebo, yes. And just FYI, what you are asking is actually spelled out in the rules - though somewhat hidden in the combat section.

Touch Spells in Combat: Many spells have a range of touch. To use these spells, you cast the spell and then touch the subject. In the same round that you cast the spell, you may also touch (or attempt to touch) as a free action. You may take your move before casting the spell, after touching the target, or between casting the spell and touching the target. You can automatically touch one friend or use the spell on yourself, but to touch an opponent, you must succeed on an attack roll.

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As Shane completes his spell and reaches out to touch the Fire Tender, the red red-skinned man gets a startled look on his face. "Oh cinnamon sticks..."

A literal spark flashes where Shane makes contact. His eyes roll backwards and his body convulses. He nearly falls, but the Fire Tender grabs his arm and holds him upright. "If I had known he would cast that spell I might have reconsidered." He mumbles with a concerned look on his face.

Meanwhile, Shane's head is bombarded by powerful visions as his spell seeks specific knowledge. Most pass through his mind so fast that they are indecipherable, but a few remain...


A perfect chord of music comes from the mandolin cradled in the handsome man's hands. "The Queen has many minions, and powerful children, Prince and Princesses born of Eldest lovers. All are exiled away in their own realms and cannot return to the First World. But the ways into the mortal realms are not so secure. There are stories. Zuddiger's Picnic for instance..."


An old man sits near the fireplace in a small cabin. A worn book rests in his wrinkled hands, open to a page depicting a smiling woman handing a grinning young man a spoon and a crow in exchange for his sword. Only a few words are written on the page.

So I traded my sword for a spoon and a bird.

"She was no mere woman." The old man mumbles. "I brought back the first seeds. The Blooms are my fault..."


"The Queen nearly escaped once." A soft female voice comes from a glowing pool within a lush forest grotto. "A son, called the Fellnight Prince, opened a breach to the mortal realm with the aid of the cyclops and began to grow First World Blooms. The elves and fey of the Feralwood stopped him, drove him back to the Fellnight Realm, and convinced the Eldest to seal the breach with waystones..."


Around the lake the forest grows before your eyes, leaves spreading, vines crawling, flowers blooming in colors not found in nature. A whirlpool spins in the lake itself, and black swans fly in a wide circle above. In the space between a vision begins to manifest of ruined towers and shadowy creatures lumbering among them.

The Fire Tender raises his hands and and a storm of flames bursts from him, racing outward through the trees. All around him the world is turned to smoke and ash. The swans disperse, the whirlpool subsides, and the vision over the lake fades...

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Flying out of the mists, Troxell spots Tenzikil lurking just inside the trees, glaring at the group as they begin to make their escape. Summoning a sphere of flame it appears right behind the traitor, who screams in pain as it sets his cloak on fire.

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Before Teena can use the wand on Xerexis he has run and lept from the falls.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Damage: 5d6 ⇒ (6, 5, 4, 2, 3) = 20

While the others fly down, Xerexis drags himself from the water. Though battered and bruised, he mounts up on the unicorn behind Shane.


Fleeing through the forest you manage to escape Tenzekil’s army, and are soon escorted to a glade unaffected by the strange mist that seems everywhere else. Instead, faerie lights illuminate the clearing, dancing between the trees. Several creatures look up at your arrival—a host of centaurs, satyrs, sprites, and a few treants, including Vinroot—all part of an encampment clearly armed for war. With them is the Fire Tender.

"You did it! Good good!" The Fire Tender congratulates you on the success of your mission with boyish excitement. "I am still working out how we are going to reset them, and I think it best you keep them safe for now. As you can see I have gathered some... Folk.. I'm not sure I would call them all friends and allies yet. More will arrive soon, and we will hold a conclave tomorrow. I suggest you get some rest tonight."

Everyone can safely get a night's rest and raise to the next level!

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

"Hah!" Kraygan laughs at Torgan's comment. "I think I could take 'em with one hand! Someone hand me a beer!" Holding his axe in his right hand, he reaches back, gesturing for one with his left.

Grand Lodge

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Gnome Wood Wizard 1 / Ninja 4 | HP 41/41 | AC 19 T 15 FF 19 | F +4 R +8 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +8/+10 | Sense Motive +3

A old gnome enters the Lodge. Short, even by the standards of his race, his eyes are oddly mismatched with one slightly larger than the other. He wears a simple hooded hanfu made from a material of the deepest black that contrasts strikingly with his white beard. By the look on his face, he's either very angry or something down at his level stinks terribly.

He stalks the common room, his eyes darting about, looking for something...

"Aha! Found you, I have!" Reaching under a table he pulls out a white monkey and shakes it about. A druid nearby gasps, but the gnome shoots him a dirty look. "This is Pu. My monkey. Summoned with great magic. If I want to spank it, that is my business!"

Turning back to said monkey, he grumbles. "I send you to post recruitment, not get drunk! Bah! Shu do it himself."

Moving to the public boards, Shu tacks up a notice...

Rumors of an ancient settlement and its priceless treasure locked beneath Irrisen’s perpetual ice have reached the Society’s ears. We are recruiting a group of Pathfinders to set out to the Land of the Linnorm Kings with a precious cargo of trade goods to buy their way into the witch-ruled nation and recover the relics within.

Content in “From Under Ice” contributes directly to the Year of the Sky Key metaplot as well as the ongoing storyline of the Grand Lodge and Scarab Sages factions.

Greeting all! DM Rah here. I am recruiting a table for Scrnario 6-18 From Under Ice (Tier 1-5) for Gameday 4. I have added it to my sign-up sheet. First come, first served.

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The rules for identifying spells are lame.
Also, the cross hallway is 15 feet down, and so not really available to "jump into". Regardless, no spell effect comes immediately rushing down the hallway. You can readjust your positions if desired.

Giving Culsar and Skip a chance to react before moving on.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Kraygan moves closer to the edge of the boat where everyone is gathering to rescue whichever cousin of his is testing the depth of the river.

"Torag's flamin' beard, it's a monster stew down ther!!" He cries upon seeing crocodiles and tentacles thrashing about. "This ain't no time fer tree-singin!" Kraygan yells to Jorgan, having no idea what that the brewer is actually helping.


"What..." He looks over at the sound of Wren arriving to the main deck. "Good idea!" Kraygan throws himself to the deck as well and spreads out his arms and legs to get the most traction. From that position he wraps his rope around his arm and offers the grappling hook to anyone nearby.

"Throw this to 'em and I'll pull 'em out!"

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"I can see you are conflicted about what questions to ask." The Fire Tender says as Troxell goes silent. "Since this particular spell is not a druid secret, let us summon your companions."


Those loitering about the cabin notice a white rabbit scamper into the area. "The master desires your company!" It says before turning and hopping back in the direction Troxell and The Fire Tender went earlier.


Once the rest of the group has arrived, you are all given a short summary of the knowledge gained through nature, and offered the chance to ask simple yes and no questions of the Shalm.

Ok, everyone join in!

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Will: 1d20 ⇒ 16

Wren wrote:

"Well, the 'Axes of Trunau' sounds much better than 'Wren's Brigade'..."

"I dunno.." Kraygan says, giving big exaggerated blinks as his sight finally returns. "I liked it. Seemed approp'rit. I mean, when th' battle started it were you tha' Kurst came lookin for, and he put th' Steelkeg's under yer command. But if yer donnae wan' the glory, I 'spose that's ok."

Wren wrote:

""There is an elven saying..."

Kraygan looks thoughtful a moment after listening to Wren's elven saying.

"I think I heard a Dwarven sayin' thas' sim'lar... 'A courageous general leads the charge. A good one directs it from afar.'" Still thoughtful, he adds, "Though I also heard it said 'A glorious general leads his army. A livin' one leads from behind.' ... not sure which o' those was said first."

With a huff that blows his mustache out, Kraygan looks at Wren with bloodshot eyes. "Like it or nae' I think yer the Capt'n of the Axes. Torag knows it ain't me - back in Janderhoff, they always said I weren't officer material. Cannae even get me cousins to follow commands..."

Wren wrote:

"let's get you home..."

"I think I can make it." Kraygan groans as he clambors to his feet. "Jus' point me in th' righ' direction and..."

*Kraygan's eyes roll up and he crashes face first to the floor*

"I think I'll jus' sleep 'ere."

Though it seems he's passed out, he manages to get a few last words out. "Sorry for th' axe... had it made 'fore I heard ye dinnae like..." His words drift off into a snore.

Looking at his gift, Wren notices two words carved into the haft: Wren's Brigade.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Despite exhaustion and serious wounds, Kraygan is determined to rejoin his companions in the fight and staggers on through Trunau.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

"Bloody boll@cks! Not the Ramblhouse!!" Kraygan cries as a boulder rocks his favorite place in the town.
"Torag damn them!" He calls out again when the blacksmith takes one too.
Being so close he wonders if the place is stocked with anything they could use to defend the town... but his thoughts are soon silenced by a call to arms from a surprising source with surprising conviction in his tone.

Kraygan's beard bristles in a secret smile of pride at Wren's words. It was a speech worthy of a Dwarf Lord, and the challenge he makes sets his heart burning as if he'd just drank a mug of strong dwarven spirits. With a laugh, he offers the elf a dwarven salute, then vaults atop Haggis...

Quickmount: 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

...and promptly goes right over the other side. Cursing his poor innocent yak, he is dragged a dozen feet before he manages to pull himself upright.

Once seated properly, he raises his axe and gives a battlecry.

"Baruk Trunau! Baruk Ramblehouse! Baruk Wren!"

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Kraygan turns purple at Wren's words, his grip throttling the handle of his axe. As the elf walks aways he turns to go over the half-orc's gear, but continues to grumble loudly.

"Yer lucky I don't have a 10' pole, cause I'd introduce it to yer arse! Oh.. nice belt."

Before heading into the next room he checks the bloody gash the troll gave him, then looks to his cousins and notices most of them also bear wounds. "Hoff, ye got any more healing prayers? If not, someone should probably take that potion."

Unless someone else is able to check out the magic belt I'm willing to throw it on and experiment.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Kraygan's about to offer a noodle-armed elf. :)

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Your grumpy old leatherman class intrigues me.

Regarding character development - I feel like everyone hit the ground running in this campaign, and feel inspired by the effort being put into it. I'll admit I didn't have the clearest concept for Kraygan at first, but I was fine with that. Roleplaying for me is one part alchemy and another part divination. Characters and events are mixed within an environment, each with the potential to act as catalysts to spark change. The random chance provided by dice is a sort of cleromancy, where the degree of success or failure can sometimes influence a catalyst and the future path a character might choose. I often work up a character, consider a path for him or her, then adapt and improvise based on this "alchemy and divination".

As far as personalities, goals, and purpose, I feel like most everyone has basic concepts befitting a normal resident of the town. Is that enough? Probably not for a heroic campaign, but I feel like we've laid good foundations to build upon. Wren apparently has a dark past, but obviously that will be tricky to reveal to the dwarves, whom he just met, and seems annoyed at being saddled with. The OOC insight provided by his internal dialogue is great though, and even if we never learn IC about his motivations, the story is better for it. I like using internal dialogue as well, but Kraygan just isn't very self-reflective.

In Kraygan's case, he is a trained soldier, but untested. He came to Trunau looking for action, but arrived in a time of relative peace and has become a drunk instead, thanks to his cousins and their excellent beer. His mettle has never truly been tested before now and I feel like these events are what will ultimately define him. He's a bit of a cliche, but I'm aware of it, and the one thing I do plan on is breaking that stereotype. How that happens, and when, remains to be seen.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Will: 1d20 ⇒ 19

"Har! Someone left an illusionary prank in here!" Kraygan calls from the room he's in. "Gave me a good case o' the goblies!*"

Moving to rejoin his cousins, and Wren, he finds Vanderhoff in the hall outside the far doors. "Hey Hoff, I found somethin funny..." He stops short upon seeing the arachnids of unusual size. "Torag's steel buttcheeks, those spiders are GIANT!"

Double move up next to Vanderhoff.

*The goblies: a sudden scary feeling, named for easily scared goblins.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

I'm good with the pace. I'm also fine with Wren pushing forward. Kraygan's happy to follow along in a drunken haze.

Fort vs Hangover (+2 for poisons, +2 for a light evening): 1d20 + 4 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 4 + 2 + 2 = 15

"Gooooood MORNING!" Kraygan bellows in the Stable shortly after sunrise. If that doesn't wake up his cousins, his morning fart surely will, either through volume, length, or powerful aroma.

"Wooo! Smell's a bit like Rodrik! Har!" He declares, then heads over to the brewery for a little liquid breakfast. Once done with the hair of the dog, he armors up, saddles Haggis, and prepares to ride over to the Ramblehouse.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Somewhere in Trunau...

"Hey! Yous! Bluuuurp. I'm lookin fer shummun. Girl, orc, Rodrik'sh shweetypie. What? Shtupid yak, yer going the wrong way! Wait, wait, wait... Wait. Stop turnin shircels Haggis, I'm gettin dizzy. Ok. Good. Oh look, we'sh home! Time, bluuuuurrpppp, fer a refill."

Kraygan is found in the stable courtyard, dangling by a foot from Haggis' stirrup.

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4


Kraygan rubs his nose. "By the smell I think he's gone off."

He takes a longer sniff. "Seems a little... Fruity."

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (11) - 3 = 8

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

Pleased that his bartending has produced some results from the reluctant halfling, Kraygan pours a couple more drinks and brings them over as Wren attempts to make her cry.

"Hey now, it almost sounds like yer blaming poor Chem here."

He hands a mug to the elf, and another to Chem, and considers the situation.

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (1) - 3 = -2 LOL

Into his third mug, Kraygan's internal voice is starting to break free from it's cage, reaching through the bars in growling mumbles.

"Though tis a shame you didn't press for a name. I mean, that looks really bad."

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Dwarf | HP 38/56 | AC 19/21 T 10 FF 19 | CMD 20 | Fort +12 Ref +5 Will +1 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +4

"Hah! The Steelkegs ain't no pushovers! Or pullovers in this case." Kraygan offers Rodrik and Kurst a firm dwarven greeting, which consists gripping wrists.

When the elf broaches the subject of the militia, Kraygan snorts. "You accept ladies?" He asks, then peers sideways at Wren. He'd always thought the elf was female, but had only seen him/her from a distance.

Kraygan bears a resemblance to his cousins, but has perhaps a dozen years on them, and about the same in pounds of muscle. His beard is long and straight, with a mustache like a long brush that completely covers his mouth. He's dressed nicely today, meaning he's wearing his regular clothes (all varying colors of dirt), but recently rinsed in the yak's water trough. A dwarven waraxe hangs from a loop on one side of his steel-plated belt, and a cudgel hangs hangs on the other.

With a shrug, Kraygan turns back to the militiamen. "I knows who yer are. My name's Kraygan Steelkeg. Was a soldier m'self. Served a tour watchin the homeland borders for giants. Trained ten years to fight 'em but never got closer than bolt-shot to one. Big dumb cowards, the lot of 'em. Gah! Where are my manners, have another mug!" Kraygan fills four more and hands three over, two to the brothers and one to Wren.

"So yer lookin to fill the militia? Might be tempted to join and help you boys out, but I ain't listenin to poetry or scrubbin graffiti! You can do that! Hah!" Kraygan toasts to Wren at the last part and downs half his cup, then utters a belch so violent it blows a spray of froth from his beard. Gesturing to the brother's father across the room, he says, "Heard old Jagrin's gonna step down soon. He arranged a replacement yet?"

A little information is a dangerous thing in the hands of the socially-handicapped.
Diplomacy: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (10) - 3 = 7

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Android | HP 35/35 | AC 18/19 F 17 T 13 | F +3 R +10 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +10

"Ok, what kind of experiment did you blow up in there?" Richard coughs as the Cobbler returns from destroying the privy. "Quick, close the door!"


In the next room he's impressed in a whole different way as Maruf attacks the alien buffet with both claws. At Alpha's comment, Richard offers Kharax a grin. "He's talking about food." Looking through some of the tubes, he cracks one open, sniffs it, and gives it a taste out of curiosity.

Assuming it doesn't make him ill, or that his android makeup can handle filtering out any poisons, he moves to the far door and listens, hods the good tube in his teeth and his stungun in his hand, then cracks it open.

Grand Lodge

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Gnome Wood Wizard 1 / Ninja 4 | HP 41/41 | AC 19 T 15 FF 19 | F +4 R +8 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +8/+10 | Sense Motive +3
Gob Master of Greed wrote:
"So now that I am no longer Manticore bait we should be safe now?"

"From Manticore humping leg? Yes." Shu says as he resets his wand back into his wrist sheath. He then mutters something in Tien under his breath.

"From Hustaven? Doubtful."

Grand Lodge

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Gnome Wood Wizard 1 / Ninja 4 | HP 41/41 | AC 19 T 15 FF 19 | F +4 R +8 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +8/+10 | Sense Motive +3
"When you are ready, we will transport you to the base of Mount Antios via magical means."

Climb a mountain? No challenge for the Great Shu.

"With all the wards, shields, and other magical protections placed upon, in, and around the tombs of so many self-important, paranoid Taldans, who knows what sort of interference would be wrought!”

Traps? Child's play!

Brewslee gives a feeble but attempted salute. "Yoush can count on ush once again..."

Hmmph. I hope he's learned how to walk... Or at least how to do that falling in slow motion trick that Mu knows.

"...a single man in all of the Society who knows this mountain... Sebastus Hustavan."


"Oh no."

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Android | HP 35/35 | AC 18/19 F 17 T 13 | F +3 R +10 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +10

With Khonnir safe back at The Foundry, Richard spent half the night composing a story to celebrate their rescue from the Black Hill. A melody had begun forming in his head and he considered the purchase of an instrument to accompany the song.

Kharax of the Lightning-hand,
Alpha armed with Aegis steel,
Maruf the Cobbler...

He was having trouble describing the Cobbler in heroic terms, and eventually set the song aside to study some of the items found in the Hill, particularly the stungun. He adjusted the holster on his belt for a time, finding a comfortable spot that didn't interfere with his sword, and practiced drawing and aiming, getting familiar with the odd weight and design. In a spontaneous moment, perhaps influenced by his thoughts of a certain tiefling, he pulled the trigger once while aiming at a chair.



The next morning, when he heard the bad news that Khonnir's affliction had returned, he knew Apha's words were true.

"With the reward from the council, along with the treasure found in the Hill, we have a sizable fortune from which to outfit ourselves better. I don't require much myself, a better sword, perhaps a chain shirt, a wand of healing, or more scrolls if a wand cannot be found. We also have quite a few technological artifacts that might come in handy. Khonnir had a scroll that could help there."

Does Joram restore Khonnir again? And can Khonnir identify any of the items we haven't figured out?

What sort of purchases are you guys interests in? How much time do we want to take to prepare? The Cobbler can brew potions, and maybe Khonnir would sell that scroll of technomancy so that Alpha might learn it?

Grand Lodge

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Gnome Wood Wizard 1 / Ninja 4 | HP 41/41 | AC 19 T 15 FF 19 | F +4 R +8 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +8/+10 | Sense Motive +3

"Haha. Yes, great joke. Almost had you." Shu says through his teeth. He glares at the annoying man's back as he gets up to bother the co-eds, and finds himself automatically grabbing a teacup and lifting it partway to his mouth. "Hrmph." He eyes the cup and lowers it.

Flames begin to lick upon his fingertips.

Next time, Hustavan. Next time...

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Android | HP 35/35 | AC 18/19 F 17 T 13 | F +3 R +10 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +10

"You look like..." Like hell? Like sh!t? Like a wounded animal? Richard wonders briefly which comment would provoke the Cobbler least, but decides to change course mid-stream. "We should assess our ability to continue. My ability to heal is running out."

Richard examines the defeated robot, then the rest of the room carefully for others useful items.

Did we find a wand? I've got one cure light left on a scroll plus one more bard spell.

Sovereign Court

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Human Gentleman | AC 20 FF 19 T 13 | HP 78/79 | F +15 R +13 W +13 | Init +1 | Perception +5

Maximo ascends the stairs, having looked about both first as second stories. "...We know Shadow Orchid was an assassin, and assassins are used to having people not trust them, and so clearly she would not leave it just laying about... Oh, you found it? Excellent!"

When Lillian mentions her pouch, he wonders aloud, "Should we put an item capable of creating portals within an extra dimensional space? I have heard that a bag of holding tossed into a portable hole can rip holes in the multiverse. Such a thing could prove quite, unfortunate. Like trying to sit in extremely right trousers."

Standing tall and pulling his coat straight, Maximo declares. "I will carry it and take the risk."

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Kawrock heals some of Thorgrim's wounds and Oloch gives him a blessing.

Thorgrim slams one of the lions with his maul, injuring it badly. Then a white blur hurtles overhead and Barley lands nimbly behind the creature and decapitates it.

Ali injures a second lion with a not-quite-amazing magic missile, but in the chaos of this close quarters battle it's hard to be appreciative of art anyway.

Rufus is up! (he can fire from the corner, but the penalties are pretty stiff at the moment -4 for soft cover and another -4 for hard cover)

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Android | HP 35/35 | AC 18/19 F 17 T 13 | F +3 R +10 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +10

EF, I meant to reply sooner regarding your thoughts on agriculture, GMOs, etc. Thanks for taking the time to answer. It's nice to get information from someone who has actually studied the science rather than from some sources that seem to have strong biases, either environmental or political. I live in Southern California, close to Hollywood, which is full of people who have learned just enough to think they know what they are talking about. Most arguments are basically Like this: That's non-organic stuff and everyone knows that "stuff" is bad for you.

Personally, I'm cautious about the science, but mostly because I don't understand it, and wonder what the long term effects of it could be. And partially because I just don't trust big corporations to have our best interests in mind.

Grand Lodge

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Medium 1 | AC 17 T 12 FF 15 | HP 10/16 | F +2 R +2 W +2 | Init +4 | Perception +4

Embel was happily hammering away at a nail when suddenly something was wrapped around his neck.

"Ahhhh!" He literally squeaks in a high pitched scream. "Get it off! Get IT OFFFFF! GGRRRAAAARRR!"

Dropping his tools he bears his claws and gives a sudden deep roar very unlike his normal voice, and begins ripping at the creature.

Claw: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Claw: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Grand Lodge

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Medium 1 | AC 17 T 12 FF 15 | HP 10/16 | F +2 R +2 W +2 | Init +4 | Perception +4

Embel approaches the crane and looks it over. "Can't say I know much about these contraptions, but I'll..." He stops suddenly and stands up straight as if something invisible goosed him. He then begins to mumble in a Kelish accent.

"Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I will move Golarion."

Activating trance to channel a vision spirit for +1 to skills, and using my possessed trait to get a +2 bonus on knowledge engineering (which can also be used untrained).

Trance (Su):
A medium can enter a trance state, beseeching an additional spirit for aid or becoming more in tune with his channeled spirit, in exchange for granting the spirit increased inf luence over him. Entering a trance requires 1 full round of concentration. At the end of that round, the medium can choose to channel one of his known spirits that matches the alignment or ability score of one of his channeled spirits and gain its lesser power. Alternatively, he can select a spirit he is currently channeling and gain that channeled spirit’s weakest spirit power that he does not currently possess. Either way, the effect lasts 1 minute. Any ongoing benefits from a gained power also end after the minute is up. A medium cannot enter a trance when he is already in a trance. Entering a trance increases the chosen spirit’s inf luence upon the medium by 1 step.

Spirit - The Vision (Neutral Intelligence):

The Vision is a spirit of arcane knowledge, mad genius, and cryptic clues. The Vision might represent a great but mad wizard or arcanist, or an otherworldly being with unparalleled arcane knowledge that will break the minds that seek it.
Spirit Bonus (Intelligence): Spirit bonus on all skill checks.

Knowledge Engineering: 1d20 + 1 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 + 2 + 1 = 14

Liberty's Edge

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Human Psychic 7 | AC 16 T 12 FF 14 | HP 54/54 | F +6 R +5 W +5 | Init +6 | Perception +6

"YEHEAAH! It's about f@&*%ing time this place got interesting. I was startin to get really BORED!" The Rage shouts in his head, his excitement creating pressure against the back of his eyes.

Ruckus blinks a few times to clear his thoughts. "Ok, ok. We.. I'm in." Standing about average height but a little overweight, he has unruly brown hair that defies most attempts at grooming, yet still looks presentable. He's not a pretty man, but he has an impish and infectious smile and had in the past made a decent living as a stage magician and comic harlequin traveling with an acting troupe in Varisia. Then one day he found himself walking in the woods, loaded with the possessions of the master of the troupe and The Rage laughing wildly in his head. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened in his life and he had learned that escape was often more successful then apology.

As so he left Varisia and made his way far from it, eventually landing in Cassomir where The Rage had more or less behaved himself for the last few months.


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In the online PBP community games might take longer than the playtest period.

Does someone playtesting an Occult character need to have finished a game and received a chronicle before the playtest is over in order to continue playing an Occult character, or will they be ok if they begin a game with an Occult character before the playtest ends?

Grand Lodge

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Gnome Wood Wizard 1 / Ninja 4 | HP 41/41 | AC 19 T 15 FF 19 | F +4 R +8 W +3 | Init +3 | Perc +8/+10 | Sense Motive +3

"Yeah yeah. Don't count yourself saved yet. Door is locked. Whole building warded. Unless you want to go deal with whatever put it here, I think you" Shu pokes the Magistros. "should SHUTUP!

After straightening his robe, he adds, "We go find problem. You barricade doors and wait here. Ok?"

To his companions, "Let us go look look around, hmm?"

I say we just go clockwise around the place.

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The pot-head female listens to Finger, then turns to the other goblins. "Hey yous! Reta with Big Chief Swordshanks! You listen to us or else!!" she mimics Finger's threat with a finger of her own. The other goblins ignore her.

"Acid?" The lizard hooded one says in response to Thael's magic. "What so fun about acid? You make fire too? Badmucus make fire. Lots and lots. Burn down many villages. Even own village once!"

The Groveler pops up from the snow and looks at Miaka. "No speak Taldum right now. Poog busy praying Zarongel. Zarongel say we goblins be ok, but he pretty sure you're f*@%ed."

Amon's words seem to have the opposite effect on the Oozer, who makes a point of licking a gooey finger with a crazed laugh.
"Chuffy’s face might make you sick,
But Chuffy’s knife be quick quick quick .
And if you is his stabby pick—
Then knife goes in you, stick stick STICK! HEE!"

"Me Mogmurch." The Flameling responds to Marco and holds up a scorched stick. "Me keep dis."

Scarab Sages

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Human Pistolero Gunslinger 6 / Alchemist 2 | HP 64/64 | AC 25 [F 17 T 19] | CMD 28 | F+11 R+16 W+6 | Init +10| Perc +11/+16 | Grit 2/4

Two gunslinger alchemists. This is going to be a blast!

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1d7 ⇒ 4

The hag rubs her clawed hands together as Teena begins to reach into the basket of wands. "Heehee! HEEHEE! HEE..." Her cackle ends abruptly as Teena closes her grip and pulls one from the group.

"...What! WHAT! How... HOW! You... ARGGHH!"

Teena's first attempt has secured her a wand of flying, and if she somehow cheated the hag seems unable to or unwilling to accuse her of it.

"Again! Double or nothing!" The hag challenges. "Your choice of spell!"

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Cade finishes second breakfast and the young group heads to the town square.

The bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Kassen. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. After a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd and it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal and Father Rantal Prasst through. The mayor leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, Father Prasst leads an old pony dragging a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.

Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk. “Once again the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Kassen himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Kassen’s tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?”

Moltus steps forward from the crowd and gestures impatiently toward your group. "Are ye blind? They be right there, damned fool!"

Those gathered chuckle, despite the serious nature of the event. "Yes, yes, we know that!" Father Prasst chides the old sorcerer. "It was a rhetorical question, you nincompoop!"

"What's religion got to do with it?" Moltus stamps his foot and looks ready to roll up his sleeves, but some of his family intercept and lead him back to the crowd.

Clearing his throat, Mayor Uptal turns back to your group. "We have gathered supplies to aid you on your journey." He gestures to the cart which has a backpack for each member of the group. He then raises the lantern. "Who is to have the honor of carrying the lantern?"

Each backpack contains 5 days’ worth of rations, a small tent, a winter blanket, and a full waterskin. In addition, the following items are spread out among the PCs’ backpacks, distributed as evenly as possible: 50 feet of hempen rope, a box containing tinder and three tindertwigs, a labeled potion of cure light wounds, three torches, a grappling hook, a small bottle of local brandy, and the Trail Map that leads from Kassen to the Crypt of the Everflame.

Please indicate who is carrying what.

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