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Asmodeus

Misroi's page

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber. Pathfinder Society Member. 1,027 posts (4,700 including aliases). No reviews. No lists. No wishlists. 3 Pathfinder Society characters. 29 aliases.


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magnuskn wrote:


I will boost all encounters appropriately, but a lot of encounters in AP's don't even have treasure. I'll adjust accordingly as soon as I can do the WBL breakdown in a few weeks. I can already say that all the encounters with ogres later on will tax suspension of disbelief a bit, since I don't think that there is a huge market for ogre hooks in civilized areas. I'll just have to place extra stuff here and there to compensate.

I agreed with you on this...right up until the minute I read on a different thread that the sizable troll population in Kaer Maga would probably be a good place to unload Large-sized weapons, and the City of Strangers is not all that far from Turtleback Ferry...

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What Ian says. The adventure gives a clear hook to Thistletop, but if they go without heading into the Catacombs first, then they run the risk of being underleveled and underequipped for the threats there. One thing I did was to make sure that the PCs knew they were the only thing standing in the way between the goblins and Sandpoint. Belor Hemlock has already left the town to go get support from Magnimar, mind you, so there's only the guards, which are irregulars at best.

In my case, I've got a PC that's Kendra's cousin, so he went straight to her with the news that there's something underneath Sandpoint. She asked them to make certain that there's nothing else beneath their feet that they need to worry about before they go out to Thistletop. That was all the prompting they needed. If they tend not to listen to NPCs, then you might need to goad them into action with something like Ian's solution.

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Spoiler:

I totally agree with both Latreis and Ian - the Black Arrows themselves would be the first to suggest striking at the Kreeg clan hold on Hook Mountain. I also played up the fact that Fort Rannick needs a lot of repair, so my PCs hit upon the idea to go back there and gather people to start rebuilding the place. Honestly, though, the plotline is a bit soft around this part, which is good - it gives the PCs hooks to follow up on at their discretion. That might also be a good motivator to the PCs, not to mention the fact that they've picked up all sorts of stuff they need to sell, and while Turtleback Ferry isn't a great place to unload everything, it's better than nothing. When in doubt, appeal to player and character greed!

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I didn't immediately see anything on d20pfsrd.com that would explain these gloves either. I suspect they don't officially exist - if they did, every melee build in the optimization threads would be using them.

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Gnome barbarian, because Power Attack doesn't care how small you are.

Would you rather be a wizard in a campaign set in the Mana Wastes, or a cleric in a campaign set in Rahadoum?

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the Lorax wrote:

I've always viewed language as a communication medium.

When one is able to correctly understand a message and comprehend the intent well enough to accurately correct it, then the original message was clear enough to be effective communication.

And spelling is damn near arbitrary.
Language is not a static thing - it does evolve and English is a horrible melange borrowing/stealing spelling and pronunciation from all over.

If the message is UNCLEAR, then certainly, there is call to question the intent. Otherwise...meh...in 100 years their version may be the correct one.

“English doesn’t borrow from other languages. English follows other languages down dark alleys, knocks them over and goes through their pockets for loose grammar.”

― Terry Pratchett

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Well, I'd expect "authentic" Numerian cuisine to be whatever the Kellid people eat. Given their lifestyle, that leads me to suspect mead and roast meats. However, contemporary Numeria is a melting pot of culture, as Mackenzie suggests. There's also probably a burgeoning goo tube black market. Want a turkey dinner but don't have time to prepare? Just squeeze out some Soylent Turkey nutrient paste, and you'll never know the difference!

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Name of PC: Doril "Tinker" Silvershaper
Class/Level: Gnome Rogue 8
Adventure: The Hook Mountain Massacre
Catalyst: Black Magga (with assistance from Akades, Human Cleric (Ragathiel) 8/Paladin 1)
Story: Having successfully infiltrating Fort Rannick and killing Jaagrath and the rest of his ogre marauders, the Five from Sandpoint returned with Vale Temros to Turtleback Ferry to gather workers to rebuild the place. As they were a few miles from town, they saw the flood waters from up north sweeping down towards the hamlet, and pushed their horses so they could assist the villagers where needed. After dealing with the nightbelly boa, they were awestruck when Black Magga appeared, but rushed to defend the church.

Unfortunately, Black Magga got initiative on all of them, and unleashed her breath of madness over all six of them. The only one who made the save was Octavius Deverin, the party wizard. Everyone else was confused for most of the fight. Foc'ciss, the Five's Shoanti Abadaran inquisitor, and Vale got into a confusion lock early on, and Selene, the party's elven warrior, was singled out by Magga as a threat, so she ended up attacking the immortal beast. At the back, Doril and Akades spent most of their time babbling, but in the third round, Akades ended up being forced to attack the closest target, Doril. Rather than swiping at the rogue with his bastard sword (well, Orik's bastard sword, really), he decided to cast inflict critical wounds on him.

Cue rolling a natural 20, confirming, and Doril failing his Will save. The rogue died instantly as Ragathiel reached through his servant to viciously lacerate the poor gnome.

In the end, Black Magga got struck from a mighty blow from Foc'ciss, and rather than continue the fight, she left Turtleback Ferry to drown. Vale was unconscious, Foc'ciss barely standing, Selene had four negative levels on her, Doril was dead by the paladin's hand, and Akades was wracked with grief for murdering an ally. (Ironically, Akades was still confused for two rounds after she left, and the two rolls were "act normal" and "hit yourself." He channeled in the first round, and when he saw that it didn't help Doril at all, he obviously began flagellating himself as punishment.)

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Gramlag wrote:
Joana wrote:
It only activates on a successful hit, and you can't successfully hit a swarm with a weapon.
nitpicking: this isnt correct, swarms are immune to weapon damage, not beeing hit by weapons, the his is just concidered to do 0 damage, so weather or not the energy dfamage is brought to 0 is a diffrent argument but you CAN hit it with a weapon

Nitpicking the nitpick: it's not as cut and dry as "swarms are immune to weapon damage." Tiny swarms are actually half damage from piercing/slashing weapons, and full from bludgeoning. They wouldn't have any issues with flaming weapons or the like, as a result.

But, really, the argument is about Diminutive or smaller swarms. How does the energy weapons entry read? Well, flaming says it deals the damage "on a successful hit," so as I read it, someone with a +1 flaming longsword needs to hit the swarm's AC, and will do no weapon damage with the longsword, but 1d6 fire. Not the best solution, but better than nothing.

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You know what you doing. Take off every zig.

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I think she's redeemable, though she's definitely deranged. Her hatred for Sandpoint is justifiable, as the townsfolk unintentionally mistreated her. She sees her angelic heritage as a curse, and hates herself because of it. The only time she's not been betrayed by someone she trusts is back in Magnimar. Xanesha and the rest are definitely using her, just like everyone else in her life, but they've done so with more skill than anyone else. I don't see her caving or turning them over to save her own skin.

It's been a common suggestion for someone of authority in Sandpoint to suggest that they give Nualia the help she clearly needs, and she gets admitted to Habe's Sanatorium. I really like this idea - it introduces Habe to the PCs before the next book starts, and also personalizes the horror when they realize what they've subjected her to...especially when they realize she's been removed from his care! (Xanesha or one of her minions got her out in the middle of the night, and she's now reinforcing Ironbriar or something.)

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Phosphorus wrote:

The Romans had hamburgers.

In Golarion, the Taldan Empire is an analogue of the Roman Empire.

All the places which speak Common,(ie Taldane), could have similar cuisine to ancient Romans.

Interesting. Not quite a burger as we'd recognize it today, but it's definitely an ancestor. The meat was probably not beef, but lamb, goat or chicken. I appreciate the use of Liquamen, a stand-in for the Roman ketchup, garum. For those not in the know, that's a liquid made from fermented fish guts, and was put on just about everything in those days. I'd actually think Worcestershire sauce would be an acceptable modern equivalent, given its fishy notes. Now, what are pine kernels? Berries? Would that give it a taste like gin?

Orfamay Quest wrote:


Alternatively, Valeros is using the word "corn" in its English sense (which predates even the discovery of "maize" by several hundred years) -- any grain.

E.g., from Piers Ploughman (c. 1380 CE):

A busshel of bred corn
Brynge me therinne;
For I wol sowe it myself,
And sithenes wol I wende
To pilgrymage, as palmeres doon,
Pardon for to have.

Hmmmm, another wrinkle added to the puzzle. You're absolutely right, Valeros would probably refer to whatever crop he and his family grew on the farm as "corn." But did Valeros write his own background? Do we take that as written by the iconic, or by the real world writer (who is most likely American, and therefore uses "corn" to mean "that crop that most of the rest of the world calls maize")?

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Which begs the question: how does Kyra react when you press your cold feet against her?

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Tacos are street food, so to make something we'd recognize as a taco, we're looking for somewhere in Golarion that has access to corn as a staple crop. Fillings can be just about anything, but a corn-based exterior - whether fried crisp or simply warmed - is the key component. Tracking that in Pathfinderwiki led me to Valeros' bio, which states he left Andoran seeking "a larger life than cattle and corn." I'm still not sure that Andoran is the right place - corn is probably used there as a feed for animals, and probably isn't the corn we're used to. Still, it does reinforce the stereotype that "Andoran = America," since they're using the American term for the crop, rather than the more global "maize."

Burgers, though, could come from anywhere that cows are plentiful, and I don't think that really narrows any one place down as the birthplace of McGolarions. Again, Andoran is possible, since Valeros' backstory mentions cattle, but ground meat was hardly a new invention. The British were using it in pies a hundred years before the first burger came around, after all, and a British connection would lead me to suggest Cheliax as a contender. But the cottage pie lead to the Salisbury steak which led to the burger, the latter two of which were American inventions - and again, Andoran = America.

Pizza, though, I'd argue is from Cheliax. Their writeup in Council of Thieves suggests a very Italian Renaissance feel to their section of the world, so I'd guess pizza would come from there. It'd be peasant food, as flatbreads tend not to be served to lords and ladies, and would be much like Orfamay suggested would be closer to cheese toasts than Domino's, but I figure you'd find it there.

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Re: Adding Koriah

Something for the PF#100 bonus material, perhaps?

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This thread is just a way for Aberzombie to discover the tastiest brains to eat when the zombie apocalypse comes.

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Shocker lizards: cute or nuisance?

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I handled it pretty much the same way as NobodysHome. The scrying ability of the amulets would be harder to discover than what they do, and I enjoyed the look on the wizard's face when he realized his amulet had the same feature. Makes them debate what to do with the things once they realize they're not as free a lunch as they thought!

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Agreed, Mark. Of the heroes we've seen so far from the Marvel filmography, GotG's are the most flawed. They don't consider themselves heroes at the beginning, but somewhere along the way realize that they're the only thing standing between a nigh-invulnerable enemy and the entirety of the galaxy. And they're damaged goods, each and every one. Cap and Iron Man might have small cracks, but these guys? All of them have wounds that have never healed, and lie to everyone about what they want, including and especially themselves.

Of all of the movies, this is the one I was most skeptical of. You have to be fairly well-versed in Marvel lore to even know about the Guardians, so they weren't counting on name recognition here. Plus, two of the characters are a raccoon and a walking tree who can only say three words in English. I didn't expect much. Dear God, they gave me something magical. I don't think it's the best Marvel movie (Winter Soldier takes that for me right now), but it's definitely earned that silver medal.

Go see it. Hell, it's probably still in theaters! :P

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Also, if you're a construct, energy doesn't care what sort of hardness you have - it gets through and does full damage.

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Hedy Lamarr helped invent Bluetooth.

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It would! I'm not sure what I'd like more - that they plan on doing this, or that magic is actually a thing!

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I think I see where you're going, BigD. It makes more sense to me if it's not couched as envelopes, but calling Heads or Tails. If you win the coin toss, you get $x. If you lose, you get $(x/2). I flip the coin, and conceal the result. Without knowing more information about the results of the contest, there's no statistical benefit to changing your initial decision.

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I agree, Dragon. Which is why I'm not certain it was the Mind Gem. Thanos' whole schtick is "assemble the Gauntlet at all costs," so it makes little sense to me at this moment why he would relinquish one of those pieces. My guess? At least one (if not more) of the other Infinity Gems are already on Earth. This would explain why one (if not two) have already turned up on our pale blue dot in such a short time. It was Thanos' plan to take Earth so he could acquire the Gems already here.

I'm still hoping that the Eye of Agamotto ends up being the Reality Gem, which is how Doctor Strange performs "magic."

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James Jacobs wrote:
Misroi wrote:

...

Is Androffa Earth?

Androffa is as distant from Earth oas it is from Golarion.

Ok. I thought for a moment there that you were enigmatically hinting at that with your response.

@ADaigle: Yep, I know about that one - Hell, Rasputin Must Die! was the reason I subscribed to the AP line! I thought that maybe Paizo's Earth was Androffa in the distant past, and then something happened to wipe them and their advanced tech from the planet. Sorta like the Assassin's Creed games or something.

I look forward to discovering the truth! Bring on The Divinity Drive!!!

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Grey Lensman wrote:
Deadmanwalking wrote:
Hama wrote:
Well, I believe that Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver are Inhumans in MCU

Uh...the evidence we have suggests they're lab experiments made by Strucker.

He did speculate as to why they survived with powers while others died in the experiments, but that hardly screams 'Inhumans' to me.

I'd say there is a chance. It isn't certain, but given the ties Quicksilver has to the inhumans in the comics (being married to one of the royal family and having a kid with her) I can't discount the possibility either.

It's as good a guess as any with the information we have available. Not everyone with powers is going to be Inhuman, though. I think Scorch from S1 is a good example of "gifted, not Inhuman." He didn't know how he got his powers. I really feel like if you went into an abandoned temple and briefly gained a stone cocoon after a crystal farted on you, then you'd be prone to remembering it. It's possible that Wanda and Pyotr will fall in that category.

Then again, maybe they don't. We don't know exactly what Loki was using in his staff. Maybe it was something like what took over Mac's mind in the last two episodes, and that's somehow able to spark Terrigenesis. Also, to add fuel to the speculation fire, in the comics, Scarlet Witch went bugnuts (again), and Quicksilver and Magneto teamed up to take her down. She cast a spell to knock out everyone but herself nearby with her bloodline. Quicksilver fell over. Magneto remained standing. We already knew that Marvel was moving away from using mutants, so this might be distancing the MCU Quicksilver/Scarlet Witch from the X-Men movies Quicksilver/Scarlet Witch.

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If they decide not to take someone with Trapfinding, then the casters might want to invest in some summoning spells to trip the traps for them.

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To be fair, I don't think that ingesting the mold would actually end Vorel's evil. Aldern was harvesting the stuff for who-knows-how-long, and that seems to have no noticeable effect. IMO, while the paladin is immune to the Phage, Vorel is immune to being eaten by paladins.

On an unrelated note, I'm reasonably sure that is the weirdest sentence I have written on these boards, and almost certainly anywhere else.

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...

Is Androffa Earth?

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Ok, never mind. Turns out Valley did arrive, and my apartment complex never informed me. I'm still blaming Unity, though.

Please close this ticket. :-)

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James Jacobs wrote:


2a) Breath of life is called cure deadly wounds, so that clerics can swap it out.

This has just been stolen for my games. Thanks, JJ! :)

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There's traps in all Paizo APs. Runelords is no exception. Some of them are debilitating. Some of them are inconveniences. If you have someone that gets trapfinding, they can take care of them with a roll of the die. If you don't, you'll have to find an alternative solution.

So, in general, standard advice for PF. If you don't have someone with ability X that can defeat quality Y, then you have to figure out an alternative solution to get around quality Y.

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To be fair, if they plan accordingly, she's a lot easier to deal with. Even pre-nerf Xanesha can probably be taken down fairly easily if you don't climb up the Tower, but go in from the top. Personally, I'd reward them for thinking tactically about things rather than just kicking in the door and taking their lumps. They should be rewarded for smart play, after all!

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I think Unity is desperately trying to make sure that my players' characters can't defeat him! I haven't received my copy of "Valley of the Brain Collectors" yet, despite the order page stating that it shipped. Likewise, "Palace of Fallen Stars" states that it's shipped. I don't have tracking information for either of these, so I can't see where they're at. Would someone be able to sleuth these two down for me?

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James Jacobs wrote:
xavier c wrote:
Does Golarion have it's own version of the Kama Sutra?
Yes. I suspect that the church of Calistria has one in particular. And no... there are no plans for us to publish much about these books anytime soon.

Any chance the Calistrian church's text would be called The Book of Erotic Fantasies?

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From Wikipedia (so it must be true) wrote:


Hyde's daughter is Daisy Johnson, who is a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.; her mother was apparently a prostitute with whom Calvin Zabo regularly had 'business',[26] with the girl being put up for adoption after birth. Daisy subsequently manifested superpowers due to Zabo's mutated genetic code being passed on to her.

Doesn't sound Inhuman to me. Technically, not a mutant either, so I suppose I'm wrong as well.

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I thought Daisy!comics was a mutant, not an Inhuman.

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Back onto Scraponomics: since the theme for this book is Mad Max's biker gangs, Scrapwall is the descendant of Bartertown. As a result, money isn't used to purchase stuff there. If you want to find something, you need to make a Diplomacy check to track down someone that has it and is willing to give it up. For most magical items, it's a DC 20. (Medium and major items have already been looted from Scrapwall long ago.) Tech is harder - the DC is equal to the check to create/identify. They won't take cash though. If you want the item, you need to give them equipment equal to the GP cost. My hard and fast rule is it needs to be no more than 3000 gp, as that's half the cost of the most expensive item detailed by one of the gang members in the book.

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Well, it's been building towards that. Raina mentioned that the two of them and Skye's parents were descended from people from the stars known as the Kree. In the comics, the Kree set up the Inhumans as a breeding program for supersoliders. The initiative was eventually abandoned, and the Inhumans founded their own society hidden away from humanity. Also, Raina hinted that Skye's father was interested in evolution, and the Inhumans are all about directing the course of their own genetics.

The biggest smoking gun, though? The Inhumans are basically powerless until they undergo Terrigenesis, which is sort of a metamorphic coming-of-age ceremony. They are exposed to the Terrigen Mists, and they gain their powers. As it turns out, that's what the Diviner was all along - a cartridge of Terrigen Mist that triggered both Raina and Skye to metamorphose into their selves.

And as for Tripp...dammit, Joss, stop hitting me in the Wash.

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Leaving alone Scrapwall's economics for a moment, I just wanted to say that my players came up with a good spin on laying Aldronard's spirit to rest. None of them wanted to risk angering the spirit by disguising themselves as Justinia or her father, and their arguments got them nowhere. (Both androids were thoroughly frustrated that the ghost refused to listen to the logic behind their arguments, in fact.) So, instead of dressing someone up, the party's rogue decided to look through the records, and "happened" to find a letter from Justinia's father dated two years after the first. In it, he forgives Aldronard and apologizes for his words, asking him to come back to the farmstead and be the son-in-law he never had. I asked him to make a Linguistics check to forge the document, and rolled decent. The check wasn't to fool the ghost - as per his writeup, he desperately wants to be forgiven, so all they need to do is show it to him. It was for anyone else who doubted the veracity of it. As it so happened, the paladin commander beat the check to notice the forgery, but didn't say anything about it at the time. (He did say that he was actually the worst person to go present the letter, though, as the ghost has attacked Sarenrite clergy in the past.)

Once the ghost was laid to rest, though, he did approach the rogue before they left for Scrapwall. "You know, I could have sworn the paper the letter was written wasn't all that aged, especially not to the point of the Second Crusade."

"Well," the rogue responded. "It must have been a miracle by the goddess herself."

"Indeed," the paladin said, nodding. "I'm not certain if I approve of this trickery, but clearly, Sarenrae doesn't share my concern."

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Reposting this, as I found out awhile ago that I screwed up one of the haunts, and I'd like this to be accurate and in one location.

The way I intended this to play out is that, after the haunt activates, the PC is given the handout, and reads through it. They then make whatever roll the handout requires, and if they are affected by it, it tells them what will happen next. The intent is to give that PC the opportunity to experience a part of the story for themselves, and then tell the story to the rest of the party - much the way I figure it would play out if this were a movie.

Burning Manticore:

As you enter the foyer again, the smell of smoke is heavy in the air. Before your very eyes, the stuffed manticore's mane bursts into flame, quickly engulfing the centerpiece in a massive conflagration. It roars in pain with a hoarse, painful voice, and turns to face you with its cold, glassy eyes. By this time, the entire beast is engulfed in the flame, and you can feel the heat upon your skin as it leaps for you. The creature is loathsome to your eyes, but no more so than its face, a twisted and cruel visage of humanity, but with growing horror, you realize the face has changed since your first viewing of the beast. The deformed features have smoothed and refined into the face of a woman. It is a familiar face to you. It is your face.

It is close now. The heat from the manticore is painful to be near, but the fire gives you the same small comfort it did years ago. You had no other options, after all. For six years, you'd seen this damnable manor darken the soul of your husband, taking what was once a good and ambitious man and change him into something dark and secretive. It had changed him, and it probably had changed you too. Six years ago, you would never have thought you had the inner courage to set the house ablaze, and take your children back with you to Magnimar. Traver couldn't be saved, you knew that. You had no choice. He would be sacrificed to save your children. To save yourself.

The servant's quarters were your proving ground. When you set the blaze, when you watched it erupt and consume the building, you felt free at last. Free from the yoke you have lived under for too long. Free from fear, free from guilt, free from him. All that remained is to set the blaze in the manor house proper. Set it, and be done with it.

But he comes! He yells your name, and you lash out at him with your firebrand!

(At this point, the burning manticore attempts to strike you with its burning stinger. Make a touch attack against yourself. The manticore has a +4 bonus. If it hits, you take 4d6 points of fire damage, and need to make a Reflex DC 15 to avoid catching on fire.)

Worried Wife:

What does he get up to down in the damp below? You asked him that once. He didn't respond, and that was worse than any answer you could have received. That and his glare. It was like he was looking beyond you, as though he was trying to will you out of existence. How could he not care about you? How could he not care about Lorey, his own flesh and blood? What has become of him? What will become of you?

No more! If you and Lorey stay here, then you will be caught up in whatever madness Vorel is working on. If you don't leave now with her, you may never leave. She is beside you, and he is downstairs, as he ever is. Go, now! This is your chance!

(Please make a Will save, DC 14. If you fail, then you are under a suggestion spell. You believe that one PC I designate is your child, and you both need to get out of this house before something horrible happens. As this spell is an enchantment (compulsion) effect with the language-dependent and mind-affecting keywords, any bonus or penalties that target any of these apply.)

Dance of Ruin:

Ah, the flamenco! You rarely get to dance it these days, living so far from the people. The last time you danced it was in this very room for your husband, though he was just a noble at that time. You leap into the air, twirling about the room in tight fast circles, and a cry of joy is upon your lips as you let your soul be free, even though he has imprisoned you here alone while he is off in Magnimar.

But not today! You don't know how someone else has stolen into the manor, but you quickly begin dancing with her as well. She is a beauty, a vision of Varisian beauty if ever there was one. Long curled hair, dark pools for eyes, curvaceous and graceful – she would be a catch for any man! But tonight she dances with you, and she matches your step beat for beat.

As the dance continues, she proves to be a remarkably skilled dancer, almost anticipating every step you take about the parlor. And why wouldn't she? After all, she is you. Who else would know your next move? You take her into your arms, and you dance even more frenetically to the increasingly fast tempo echoing from the piano. You don't notice the change upon your partner at first. The mark upon her skin is tan at first, but quickly resolves into an angry blue-black bruise about her throat. Her eyes begin to bulge and water, her mouth contorts in pain, and her tongue protrudes as she gasps for air.

(You will be dancing for the next 1d6 rounds – go ahead and roll it. You take 1 point of Strength damage right now, and will be taking that damage every round until the dance ends. You may make a DC 15 Will save at the start of each turn to end the dance early.)

Iesha's Vengeance:

He is dead! Your husband, Aldern, has killed him! Not one moment ago, you were seated by the fire with the carpenter, the two of you reading a treatise on the founding of Korvosa, and the next, the carpenter was struck from behind! Aldern was there, his face a mask of fury as he struck the carpenter with a stone bookend. He discards his bludgeon and turns to you, his face red, his eyes accusing. “You harlot!”, he cries, grabbing at your dress and pulling you to your feet. “I am your husband! You are mine, and no other man shall lay a finger upon you! Not now, and not ever again!” He grabs the scarf you wear about your neck, and pulls it tight around your throat. Silently, you plead with him, scratching at his arms and kicking with your feet, trying to show him the book. But the carpenter fell upon it, and your vision swims. As the light fades, your husband is the last thing you see. The man you fell in love with has taken your life. How could he do this to you? Your last thoughts before you black out are those of rage.

(Please make a DC 16 Will save. If you succeed, congratulations, you're safe! If not, you are paralyzed with fear as the ghostly image of Aldern Foxglove appears before you and seems to be pulling the scarf around your throat tight. Additionally, since you failed this first save, you need to immediately make a DC 16 Fort save. If you succeed, you take 3d6 damage – go ahead and roll that right now. If you fail, then you are suffocating. You are reduced to -1 hit point and you are dying.)

Frightened Child:

"Quick!”, Sendeli says as she ushers you and Zeeva into the room. “Hide under the bed! Mommy won't find us there!” The three of you crawl under the bed, and cower in the darkness. You don't know what's going on. Mommy came into the house, a torch in hand, and started shouting Daddy's name. She went upstairs, and the screaming and crashing started. The three of you snuck into Daddy's observatory to see what was happening, and saw Mommy and Daddy fighting. Mommy had her torch, and she was waving it around, trying to burn Daddy with it. Daddy had a knife, longer than the ones the servants use in the kitchen to cut meat, and there were things on his face. Ugly black bulges. Even your young mind knew what was happening. They were trying to kill each other.

Sendeli grabbed you both by the hand, and the three of you raced here, to your room, to hide. You shivered in the dark. You might only be six, but you know that tonight, you and your sisters are going to die. Either Mommy will kill Daddy, and she will burn you alive, like she burned the servant's quarters, or Daddy will kill Mommy, and then he will carve you three up with his long knife. You sob, knowing that you are going to die. Zeeva whispers to you. “Shush, Aldern! Or they will hear you!”

Then there is a crash. Followed by a scream that dies away into nothing. Then footsteps, loud ones down the stairs. You begin to scream in fear, but Zeeva and Sendeli place their hands over your mouth to muffle you, to avoid giving away your hiding place. The footsteps turn before they come to your room, however, and the double doors to the gallery are thrown open, followed shortly by the doors to Mommy and Daddy's room. Those doors slam, and then everything is silent. Silent, except for your sobs.

(Please make a DC 14 Will save. If you fail, you take 1d4 points of Wisdom damage from this vision.)

Phantom Phage:

“What's on your face, Mommy?”, Lorey asks her mother. The damnable woman! You were close – close! - to finishing the great work, finishing your glorious transcendence, when she came barging into your laboratory at the worst possible moment. Your attention was distracted, and it all went wrong immediately. The ritual consumes you with a horrible affliction in a moment, and your body dies, deformed and ridden with tumors and boils.

But something of the original work still went right. The b*+%@ had no idea what she saw, and you were too far along for the ritual to fail completely. It may not have worked as you intended, but you live on. This was not the transcendence you were hoping for, but you can make this work.

First, though, revenge. She has taken your dream from you. Now, you will take her life. Her, and that whelp. You reach out, and stroke your wife's cheek. Her skin blackens where you touch, and the infection begins to spread. Lorey screams, and backs away from her mother in fear. She may be able to escape her mother's grasp, but she cannot escape yours. Another touch, and the infection spreads to her.

Within minutes, both your wife and your daughter are dead from your hand. Good riddance. You remember the pain they must have felt, as it was your last experience. Growths on your face, foulness bubbling forth under your flesh, filled with pus and cancerous flesh, choking on the tumors in your lungs, blind as the growths swell your eyes shut. It was a gruesome way to die. The least you could do was share it with them. You tried to tear the corruption within your body away, just as they did. It helped them as much as it helped you. It only helped to disfigure their bodies further.

(Make a DC 14 Will save. If you fail, you tear at the flesh of your face, dealing 1d6 points of damage and 1d4 points of Charisma damage. Make a new save at the beginning of each round.)

Misogynistic Rage:

The horrors! The things you have seen in the deeps! Your husband is a monster wearing the guise of a man! You have no idea what he was doing down there, but you know blasphemy when you see it. The gods must have cursed him for his actions, as he was consumed by a horrible sickness and decay before your eyes. As he died, he spat such horrible curses at you! Words that you had only heard from sailors in Magnimar, and worse. “Damn your sex!”, Vorel gurgled as the plague took him. “Damn your curious nature, and your need to stick your noses where it's not wanted! I'll kill you for this, whore! You first, while our daughter watches. And then I'll kill her, just for the crime of being female!” The rage he felt as he died was a palpable entity!

(Make a DC 16 Will save. If you fail, you must attack the closest female using all of your capabilities to kill the target. This lasts for 1d4 rounds, or until the target is slain. This is an effect like dominate person, which is an enchantment (compulsion) effect with the mind-affecting keyword. Any bonuses or penalties that would apply to those effects apply here.)

The Stricken Family:

None. See, here's the thing - while the other haunts are personal, this one is formed by all of the spirits haunting the manor. The other universal haunt, The Worried Wife, is more keyed to Kasanda than any of the others, and is able to evoke the dread she was experiencing leading up to confronting Vorel. This one, though, is clearly more overt than the others, and affects anyone inside the room. Therefore, there's not a single handout to give to the PCs - they start up the haunt through their own actions, and experience it at the same time.

Suicide Compulsion:

You have killed her! By the gods, you have killed your Cyralie! Monster, she called you, as she tried to burn you and the house, like she set the servant's quarters ablaze. And perhaps a monster you have become. You put a hand to your face, and feel the cancerous growths. He has been in control. He forced you to kill your wife. He was the one that used his sorcery to redirect the fire's flow to her. He was the one that set her ablaze. He was the one that shoved her through the window.

You realize this now. That's why you ran from the observatory. For the first time in months, you are free of his corrupting influence! As you ran, you heard his raging bellow behind you. “Who are you to escape me?”, he thundered, and he was upon your heels in a moment. You fled for the front door, but as you cleared the stairs to the upper floor, you knew escape was impossible. You turned for your bedroom, racing through the gallery and slamming the doors to the room shut behind you.

“No way out!”, he cackled, and the doors buckled with the force of his blows. “You will be mine again!” You feel him already, taking control again. In a matter of moments, you will be Vorel's vessel again. You don't have time to make it to the window. But you can make it to the desk. There, on the edge, your dagger! You have time for one last act of defiance.

Your last thoughts are your children. Sendeli. Zeeva. Aldern. May they forgive you for everything he has made you do.

(Make a DC 15 Will save. If you fail, you move to the desk and pick up the dagger, preparing to do a coup de grace upon yourself. This will automatically do 2d4 plus twice your Strength modifier in damage to you. You will then need to make a Fortitude save with a DC equal to 10 plus the damage you just dealt. If someone attempts to stop you from killing yourself, you instead make a single attack against that person versus their flat-footed AC. If you hit, it is automatically a critical hit, dealing 2d4 plus twice your Strength modifier in damage, plus 1d4 points of bleed damage.)

Plummeting Inferno:

There he is! He wears a hood, but your husband cannot hide his deformed face from you. “No more, Traver,” you say, your voice breaking from the exhaustion you feel. “This all ends tonight. The madness that has taken you over – taken over this place – it will be fuel for the fire.” You thrust the torch into a chair, and the fire begins to feed upon it. “This place killed your great-uncle and his family. I won't let it kill ours.”

“What are you doing, you incompetent whore?”, he bellows, pulling a long knife from his belt. “Damnable woman, you're just like Kasanda – you don't know what you are meddling with!” He slashes at you with the blade, but you keep him away by thrusting the torch towards him.

“Listen to yourself, Traver!”, you cry, backing away, watching the flames begin to consume the rug in the center of the room. “You've gone mad! Please, let me help you! Put down the blade, and we can leave this place, never to return!”

“Leave? When I am so close to finishing what I started so long ago?” Your husband laughs a cruel laugh, and slashes at you with the blade. Again, you leap away, but it was a feint. He chants some words that echo with power, and the fire begins to dance to his words. With a gesture from his free hand, the fire engulfs you! You stagger blindly as the flames begin to devour you, Traver's name upon your lips as you beg for mercy. The water! It is your only chance! You leap through the stained-glass window. The fire has burned away the nerves on your skin, so you don't feel the glass tearing your flesh as you crash through onto the roof. You slide down the slanted roof and plummet over the edge. The manor shrinks above you as you plummet to the darkness below. You land hard on the rocks several hundred feet below, and your body crushes at the impact. You die instantly – a mercy, compared to the inferno you had become.

(Make a DC 16 Will save. If you fail, then you feel compelled to leap through the intact stained-glass window. I'll take it from there. If you succeed, you still feel the urge, but you can beg someone to restrain you.)

Unfulfilled Glories:

Ah, the life of a wanderer! The world is filled with a trillion wonders, and a man could live a thousand lifetimes, and never see them all! You remember your first sea voyage vividly – a trip across the Inner Sea from Cheliax to Thuvia. You were a minor attachment to a powerful Chelaxian dottari who wanted to purchase a vial of the sun orchid elixir. It rained the whole way there, but if you hadn't been at the rail on the third day, you wouldn't have seen the sea serpent crest the waves a hundred leagues away. Nobody believed you, but that didn't matter – you had seen it, and that was enough.

That was only the first of many travels. The dusty tombs of Osirion. The enchanting operas of Taldor. The stoicism of the warriors of Lastwall. The savage beauty of the Mwangi Expanse. And Absalom! Ah, Absalom, the City at the Center of the World! No place in the Inner Sea could ever hope to match its splendor!

But that was over a decade ago. You had settled down with your wife, back in your homeland of Varisia, and were determined to start a family. That meant sacrifices – no more wandering, no more travels. Someone else would have to negotiate with the rajahs of Jalmeray to ask for entrance to the Kingdom of the Impossible, someone else would have to arrange to sneak into the isolationist island enclave of Hermea, the utopian society. You, however, would become a father to three children – two daughters and a son.

More travels assault you in flashes. The hideous beasts of the Worldwound, crawling out of the hole in the world. A land frozen over in ice, ruled by the daughters of an immortal witch queen. The technological marvels that lumber about in Numeria. The oppressive society of Nidal, its people kept safe during the long climb back to civilization by the dark god, Zon-Kuthon. The Horde of Belzken, bristling with the orcish horde, barely kept back from rampaging upon the civilized people of the world by their own destructive natures. The Eye of Abendego, the massive hurricane has swirled off the coast of the Sodden Lands since Aroden's death a hundred years ago, and the secrets it keeps in its eye. All these travels – and not a one of them is yours. No, your lot is to spawn, and to die. It took her two tries before that shrill harpy was able to produce an heir, but she finally got it right the third time. At least your bloodline is assured, but how much have you missed? What wonders could you have found, what secrets could you have learned, had you kept wandering? Why did you ever settle down? What have you done with yourself?

And what can you do to fix it?

(Make a Will save DC 14. If you fail, you take 1d6 points of Wisdom damage.)

Origins of Lichdom:

You slip the chime back into your pocket, and quietly push the door to your husband's workshop open. There is a stench of decay in the air, of mildew and something else, something acrid. He is not here, however, so you begin to look around. One of the books on the workbench is open, and you read through its worn pages. Your husband's hand is unmistakable.

The text is shaky at times, and the terms he uses are occasionally indecipherable, but there are large portions that become clear to you as you read. He's written long treatises on two people – Arazni, the Harlot Queen of Geb, and Socorro, the Butcher of Carrion Hill. Their names are disturbing, but unfamiliar to you. They had both performed rituals of some sort, and your husband was looking to them to find commonalities. “In both cases,” he writes, “there are many differences, but a few things remain constant. A receptacle. A potion. A lengthy ritual, one that requires considerable magical power and impeccable attention to detail. Failure at any moment would be disastrous.”

What follows are several pages of metaphysical jargon that you fail to understand, but the intention is quite clear – he has spent years learning what steps he needs to take to replicate this ritual, and carry it out himself. A veritable laundry list of fantastic items take up several dozen pages, almost all of which are crossed out. Nine remain – four are names of monstrous creatures, and a long academic-sounding name next to it: treant, roc, sphinx, kraken. Five are amongst a list of unusual reagents: scorpion venom, vampire's breath, deathwing moth tongue, belladonna, the heart of a poisoned maiden.

The last page is written in triumphant script. “At last! The great work has been completed! Arazni! Socorro! I follow in your footsteps! Tonight, Death itself shall be denied! Tonight, I take my last step in this world, and my first in the next! Time shall have no meaning to me. Death shall have no claim upon me. I shake off such concerns as morality and humanity. I will be reborn in glorious undeath!”

What has he done? You race down to his underground laboratory, finding the door locked. He does not answer your cries, so you pull the chime from your pocket, and ring it. The door opens. You prepare yourself for the confrontation.

It is too late! You must find Lorey! You get her safe from here!

(Make a DC 14 Will save. If you fail, you know that your husband has succeed at his blasphemous ritual, and must flee upstairs at top speed to find your daughter and rescue her.)

Ghoulish Uprising:

“For you.”

“For you.”

“For you.”

Over and over, that's what you say. Your limbs ache, your throat is dry with thirst, your fine clothes are sweat-soaked and covered in dirt and grime, but you keep at your task. You lift the pick again. Your arms protest, but the thought of her gives you strength. “For you,” you cry again, and strike at the stone with the pickaxe.

The stone yields to you, just as you know she will. You sigh as your toil has paid off, but you notice that there is not just darkness beyond the hole. A stench of rotting flesh reaches your nostrils, and a dozen decaying arms reach through the hole, pulling the hole wider. You stand there frozen as the creatures reach for you. They grab you and drag you down, down into the dark with them. You look back, and see her a few steps away. She saved you once, back when the goblins attacked and killed your dog. They had torches with them. Just like Mommy did.

Something is happening to you, down here in the dark. You are changing. The weak-willed boy who was orphaned is dying. You are becoming something stronger. Something confident. Something better. You will claim her. She will be yours, just as you made Iesha yours. She will know that all of this that you do...it is for her. You send your minions out after her. They will bring her to you, so you will be together for all eternity and live underground happily ever after. The end.

(You think you are being attacked by a pack of ghouls. Make a DC 16 Will save. If you succeed, you shake off this vision and regain your senses. If you fail, the ghouls grab you and tear and bite at your flesh. You take 6d6 points of damage, Fort save DC 16 for half. Additionally, if you fail, make a DC 16 Fort save. No reason. Honest.)

Vorel's Legacy:

There! The shadowy fungus! You have seen it before. It is the last remnants of your mortal form! If you feed upon it, you can reclaim your lost essence! You can finally take human form again!

(Make a DC 14 Will save. If you fail, you are under a suggestion to eat some of the black fungus. This is an enchantment (compulsion) effect with the language-dependent and mind-affecting keywords, so any bonuses or penalties that apply to these effects would apply here.)

Dark Archive

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber

As full defense is otherwise a really terrible option, I see no reason to disallow it on a move. It gets a bit better if you add in Mobility as well.

Dark Archive

Ah! Probably should have looked here first. In keeping with the stat generation, I'll go for 4d6 drop lowest.

4d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 5, 2) = 11 10
4d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 3, 3) = 12 11
4d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 1, 6) = 13 12
4d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 6, 2) = 12 10
4d6 ⇒ (2, 1, 6, 2) = 11 10
4d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 1, 2) = 6 5

...

Right. Standard array it is. I think that's the worst I've ever rolled on 4d6.

Dark Archive

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber

I'd be interested as well. I rolled up a random character as well, reposting his stats here for later translation.

Rudiger Engels
Human Outlaw
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Eyes: Green
Hair: Corn
Weight: 155
Height: 5'6"
Star Sign: The Greased Goat
Siblings: 4
Birthplace: Middleland, Hovel
Distinguishing Marks: Bloodshot Eyes

WS 34
BS 35
S 36
T 30
Ag 31
Int 33
WP 32
Fel 33

A 1
W 10
SB 3
TB 3
M 4
Mag 0
IP 0
FP 3

Skills: Common Knowledge (The Empire), Speak Language (Reikspiel), Gossip, Concealment, Dodge Blow, Perception, Scale Sheer Surface, Silent Move
Additional: Animal Care/Common Knowledge (The Empire), Drive/Ride, Gossip/Secret Signs (Thief), Set Trap/Swim

Talents: Resistance to Poison, Suave
Additional: Rover/Streetwise, Sharpshooter/Strike to Stun

Was there an answer on what sort of stat generation system will be used?

Dark Archive

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber

The traders that must exist in this place. None are detailed, but there has to be people that just go about their jobs paying protection to one of the gangs, keeping Scrapwall as independent as possible. We could probably work something up unofficially on the boards. Any idea how many people live there?

Dark Archive

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber

This comes dangerously close to throwing gasoline onto a fire, as the Internet has exploded in recent days with this topic. Still, you've never shied away from answering the hard questions, so I'd like to know your take.

The crossguard lightsaber. Awesome or stupid?

Dark Archive

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber

Back when I played DCUO, I thought about making a Magic powerset villain who gained his powers when he unlocked the secrets of Timecube.

"YOU DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE ON EARTH" - The Cubist

Dark Archive

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber
Aberzombie wrote:
Patrick McGoohan turned down two roles that eventually went to Roger Moore: Simon Templar in The Saint and James Bond in Live and Let Die.

As rumor has it, McGoohan was offered the role before Sean Connery, due to his portrayal of John Drake in Danger Man.

Dark Archive

Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber

Is there a settlement statblock for Scrapwall? I don't I saw one. I'm sure the PCs will ask if they can buy gear there, so knowing the GP limit would be nice. :-)

Dark Archive

2 people marked this as a favorite.
Pathfinder Adventure Path Subscriber

12, easy. That's usually right around 10 higher than I normally roll.

Would you rather fight the pre-Anniversary Edition of Xanesha with 7th level 3.5 PCs, or Deskari with 20th level non-mythic PCs?

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