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Bag of Holding

Our Mysterious Benefactor's page

2,694 posts. Alias of James Martin (RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32).

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The Ritual of The Blessing of the Ancestors

The ritual itself takes about two hours to prepare—to the outside observer, it looks like little more than a rhythmic droning chant by the
acting Sun Shaman. Those who wish to partake in the blessing seat themselves in a circle around the Sun Shaman and his focus fire
(a small campfire) so that they are each touching another, forming an unbroken ring of flesh and bone. The ritual must begin two hours before sunrise, so that it comes to its conclusion as dawn breaks. The Sun Shaman chooses the upper tier of Bolt Rock to perform the ritual, and unless the PCs request otherwise, the entire Flameford tribe accompanies them to watch, silently and respectfully, as the ritual progresses.

The shaman begins by recounting the legends of the tribe and the heroics and wisdom of the ancestors in a sing-song voice, shifting after 10 minutes into wordless droning and rhythmic chanting. This continues for two hours, after which the Sun Shaman slumps and the spirit to be contacted rises from the smoke of his focus fire to address the participants.

As Zellara rises from the smoke, her form coalesces and she recognizes the PCs with a smile. She greets them each by name, and then says that she has a message for them about their goal. Throwing her head back, she sings:

"Fate of steel—Serithtial
Her cage for years sustained
Four enthralled in lost Scarwall;
Undead to keep her chained.
A spirit first, red war his thirst
Still stands at post of old;
A second foe, infernal soul
Waits high in tower cold.
In kennel’s grime third bides his time
Then vents his killing breath.
And on a stone ’mid ash and bone,
The final dreams of death.
The spirits worn and battletorn
And locked in their damnation,
The chained one’s hold at last grows old
And ushers in salvation.
Yet hope remains amid the chains
When blade’s stone cage has crumbled,
Friends to dread and the death of the dead,
Keys to Kazavon humbled."

As she finishes her song, Zellara smiles again, although this time her smile seems somewhat sad or bittersweet. Each PC feels a sudden upsurge in their souls as the spirits of the dead infuse them with energy to aid them—even hundreds of miles away, the cruelty and evil of the undead within Scarwall are a blot in the spirit world, and the spirits seek victory as much as the PCs. The Shoanti stand amazed as the ritual ends and Zellara fades into darkness. Finally Chief Ready Klar breaks the awestruck silence. “Truly these Friends of the Sun are blessed by the ancestors. They walk with the spirits and bear their mark. They honor us with their presence and friendship. As they go forth to battle the evil that has plagued these lands of ash for many-score generations, they go with the power of the Sklar-Quah. They shall go forth with the power of Father Sun in their hands.”

The sudden influx of spiritual energy gives each PC two additional benefits to aid them in their trials within Scarwall, as detailed below.

Infused Weapon and Armor: The spirit world infuses one weapon, suit of armor, or shield owned by each of the PCs (even if the item in question is not present at the blessing). If the PC chooses a weapon, it gains the undead bane weapon quality. If the PC chooses armor or shield, the chosen protection gains the ghost touch armor quality.

Infused Soul: The next time the PC fails a saving throw against a death effect, that effect is negated but the PC is stunned for one round as the spiritual energies in his soul are burnt away. This protection can save each PC only once from a death effect.

It is a dark day when the letter arrives.

Brought by courier, by boat and wagon and foot, it arrives with faded lettering and sealed by a familiar crest: the crest of Professor Petros Lorrimor. Breaking the wax seal, you read the following:

"It is with a sad heart that I wish to inform you of the death of my father, Petros Lorrimor. You have received this letter because my father named you in his last will and testament. His body will be interred on Toilday the 8th of Gozran in Ravengro, with the will to be read following. Enclosed are funds to aid in your travels.
Best wishes,
Kendra Lorrimor"

Enclosed in the envelope are 5 platinum coins.

The date of the funeral is less than a month away, which should just about allow you time to book passage and arrive in Ravengro, if you finish your affairs quickly.

Okay, would the picked players please parlay?

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

Okay, here's the deal: I would run this with PFS standard characters in Campaign mode, with the idea that you would each gain PFS credit and a PFS sheet once each chapter is completed. I would need 5-6 committed PFS PbP players who are COMMITTED to the following:

1. Posting at least once per day on weekdays and usually at least once over weekends and holidays.
2. Committed to sticking with the game for the year+ it will take to finish the AP.
3. Being a good player and playing well with others, which means no rules tirades, no telling other players what to do and no "But that's what my character would do!" tantrums when I smack you for stabbing the paladin.
4. Having fun. Really this should cover all the rest, but life is what it is.

My GMing philosophy, informed by 20 years of gaming:

1. I am not your enemy. My job is to play your enemies and make for a challenging experience. You're the hero, but a hero needs adversity to shine. I'm the adversity.
2. I am not trying to kill your character. Poor choices, bad rolls and bad luck will sometimes try to kill you; I will not. If you die, it's because I offered you every chance to get away and you didn't take it. Or because it fulfills your character's purpose and story arc to die in a noble fashion.
3. Have fun. Seriously. This game is supposed to be fun for both me and you. If one of isn't having fun, send me a PM and we'll talk about it. This may mean I take vacation from the game during busy work times or GenCon. I will let you know in advance as much as I can, and I appreciate you doing the same. We can accommodate life events, busy times, sickness, real life, etc, but communication is key. let me know as soon as you can.
4. To be determined. I'm still refining my GMing style and I hope to continue for as long as I run games. If you think I'm not doing something right or there is a way I can improve, drop me a PM and let me know. I may agree, I may disagree, but I will listen.

With that being said, I need 5-6 stalwart souls who have a connection to the late, lamented Professor Lorrimor. Please download the free Carrion Crown Player's guide and be aware that this is a horror AP and will involve gross stuff and mild dementedness. Do not apply internally.

Who's up?

The growing light of predawn filters in through a window of the two-story building that Amenopheus has rented in Eto, and the aging Garundi man takes a seat on one of the cushions set out for this meeting. He produces a sealed letter from his robe, placing it in the middle of the floor before speaking.

“Good morning, Pathfinders. As you know, we have had our share of setbacks recently. Not only have the emerald and topaz gems sacred to my order slipped through our fingers, but we also faced the frustration of finding nothing but fragments of the once great ruby. Thankfully, its power is not lost entirely, and through the Ruby Sage’s blessing, it lives on in you. I am thankful that you have agreed to act on her behalf and see this through to the end.

“As we speak, the scoundrels who seized the two gems cross the Pillars of the Sun to meet their employer, the cryptic Diamond Sage.” He sighs heavily. “What she intends to do with the gems is a mystery, but the sage jewels are too important for me to take risks with. If the power that you wield is representative of a shattered jewel’s potential, imagine what one might accomplish with three undamaged stones! Until we know what her plans are, it is paramount that we get to the jewels first.

“Kafar and Nefti have a rudimentary map of the Pillars of the Sun, and last night I found a bartender who spotted them poring over it between drinks. She recalled little of the map, and she could not make sense of the marks or annotations; however, the right spells have allowed me to probe her mind and determine Kafar and Nefti’s entry point into the mountains. We will follow them from there.” With a somewhat chagrined smile, Amenopheus adds, “It may be that they will lead us to the Sanctum of the Sages, a hidden complex I have long suspected might be in this area.”

He stands and announces, “Prepare yourselves quickly. We shall leave momentarily.”

Taldor *** RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

Okay, so I'm running this as a PbP and in the second encounter, Ardona and the brigands just knocked every one of the 5 PCs unconscious.

So, what happens? Are they dead? Is this a TPK? Or would Ardona keep them alive to ransom back to the Society?

A rapid summons has you speeding to Silverhall, in Brevoy at the behest of Lady Gloriana Morilla, the faction leader for Taldor. A week ago a messenger delivered a hand written note from Lady Morilla, which read as follows:

"Noble Pathfinders,
As the Worldwound’s threat grows, the forces of many nations unite with the common goal of beating back the demon horde. I have been building my own army that I intend to field alongside the Pathfinders. In order to increase our numbers and bolster our resolve, we must have a symbol to rally around, one that embodies might equal to that of the golden age of Taldor. My agents have recently discovered that one such item, the Horn of Aroden, has survived since the Age of Enthronement, and is still in the possession of its original owners, House Lebeda. Alas, whatever magic was bestowed on it when it helped to drive Deskari’s forces into the Lake of Mist and Veils has since faded, but through careful study, we may be able to find a way to restore its powers. Dame Sarrona Lebeda has graciously offered to allow us access to this item, though how much access is yet unclear. Ideally, it would remain in possession of the Pathfinder Society while being studied and—gods willing—restored, and then will be sent to the Mendevian front.

Do your best to persuade Dame Lebeda to permit this transfer. No doubt she will require some task of you in order for you to claim the Horn of Aroden—one simply does not part with such a treasure on a whim! Remember that she and her family are influential in Brevoy and beyond, and winning their friendship could bring great benefits in the future.

Eagerly anticipating news of your success,
Lady Gloriana Morilla"

You are rapidly shuttled into the audience chamber of a well-appointed noble's home. A fire burns merrily in the large hearth of the audience chamber, casting warm light over the long wooden table and high-backed chairs. A pair of guards opens the engraved wooden doors, and a regal woman enters, her hair tied into a tight bun. The guards stay by her side as she scans the room and then takes a seat at the head of the table.

“You must be Lady Morilla’s Pathfinders. I am Dame Sarrona Lebeda, and I am well aware of your desire for the Horn of Aroden. I am sympathetic to the cause of the crusade, and am curious to learn whether the Horn’s magic can be returned; however, the horn has already been pledged to King Noleski Surtova as a fitting part of the dowry for my daughter’s hand in marriage, and such promises cannot be overturned lightly. Nonetheless, I am willing to find a replacement gift in exchange for one kindness on your part: bring my son back home."

“As of late, my son Lander has been neglecting his duties in favor of playing the part of an adventurer. His swordplay admittedly shows promise, but wielding a weapon is only one facet of being a proper lord. Worse, the style and legacy that he has become obsessed with is that of Baron Aldori, which many houses perceive as a sign that we are not as committed to a unified Brevoy as we may appear. The truancy of a second child may not seem much of a threat, but with his older sister spending her days in the capitol negotiating the web of Surtova politics, the increase of bandit activity and wolf attacks in our lands, and Lander neglecting his responsibilities within our holdings, I am concerned that he is as much a liability to our family as an asset. You are adventurous types yourselves, and understand the hazards and difficulties of the lifestyle. Perhaps you could find Lander and convince him that the way of the sword is not the life he romantically envisions?”

Any questions?

I have four players and need one more to top off a PbP PFS game that has just started. The party is low-tier (1-2), but if we get a level 4 or 5, you'll have the option of playing tier 4-5. I need a player as soon as possible, with the intent of continuing on and playing part 3 with the same character.

Sound off!

A new day dawns in the Osirian trade city of Eto only hours following the meeting with Grandmaster Torch. In exchange for a handful of services, he delivered several maps and sketches of landmarks that collectively point the way to the last known resting place of one or more sage jewels—enchanted gems capable of storing memories of Osirion’s past and reviving the Sapphire Sage Amenopheus’s order. “Those will take you where you want to go,” Torch declared while handing over the maps. “Deviate from the path if you know what you’re doing.” As an afterthought, he added, “You’re not the only ones who know about that site. I hear a group of foreigners set out from Totra not too long ago and are after the same prize. Sounds like there’s no time to waste.”

You make your way to the Caravanserai, where the talk of the area is rumors of gnoll activity in the deserts near Eto. You may make Knowledge Local or Diplomacy (Gather Information) checks to pick up any information on the routes marked on the maps.

Joining a passing caravan, it takes about two days to reach Harse. Harse is a small crossroads town, sporting two inns, a pub, three shops and a thriving marketplace. Orsini and Neolandus are relatively quiet on the way there, but as soon as Harse is in sight, Orsini perks up. You leave the caravan and walk west out of town, toward a series of ranches and fields.

As you approach one of the ranches, you see a herd of fine looking horses and some aurochs, the large oxen grazing contently under the gaze of someone you recognize: Trinia Sabor, the bard you helped to escape death as the scapegoat of the King's death. She sits a horse and looks healthy doing it, smiling as she rides toward you.

She dismounts, hugging each of you, and welcoming you. "It's so good to see you! But I take it by your look and faces that things in Korvosa are bad?" She nods when you tell your tale, saying, "I heard from passing merchants that things had gotten bad, but I hoped..." She trails off and takes you in to meet the ranch's owner, a barrel chested man by the name of Jasan Adriel.

He greets Orsini warmly, clapping the man in a bear hug, then welcomes each of you to the Blackbird Ranch and calls over a young girl of 8 summers to show you to your rooms. The ranch is modest, but comfortable and you find it homey in its way.

After dinner, Jasan and Orsini retreat to trade old adventuring stories and catch up, while Neolandus tells you everything he knows of the fangs that were kept beneath Castle Kovosa.

Neolandus was familiar with several old and obscure legends about the chambers below Castle Korvosa— chambers, it was whispered, that were old even when the Shoanti dwelt here, and that used to hide something of great power or evil. There was little more information to go on, but he did uncover mention in some documents from Korvosa’s earliest days of something called Midnight’s Teeth, and that these teeth were believed to be some sort of sacred relic of great import to the Shoanti. Circumstantial evidence indicates that the Shoanti kept these teeth in the chambers inside the pyramid that now serves as Castle Korvosa’s foundation.

Neolandus’s further research uncovered an old legend that chilled his soul. Several hundred years ago, a powerful blue dragon and agent of Zon-Kuthon named Kazavon brought the orcs of Belkzen to their knees and began conquering the neighboring nations of Ustalav and Lastwall, until he was finally defeated and his remains scattered. Some of these remains, according to certain Zon-Kuthonic scriptures, contained fragments of Kazavon’s essence. One of these relics was the Fangs of Kazavon.

By piecing together his evidence, Neolandus suspects that Midnight’s Teeth were none other than the Fangs of Kazavon. The description of the queen’s new crown sounds to Neolandus as if she now wears the Fangs of Kazavon on her brow, the implications of which troubles him greatly.

Neolandus wasn’t able to gather much more information before the Arkonas took him, but he doesn’t suspect there was much more to learn. Hard facts about Midnight’s Teeth were sparse to begin with—Korvosa’s founders didn’t think it important to preserve much in the way of Shoanti culture. Yet there is still some hope. The Shoanti have very strong oral traditions, and if anyone knows the truth behind Midnight’s Teeth, that truth is doubtless hidden among their historians up in the Cinderlands.

Neolandus pauses, sipping his wine. "You must go to the Cinderlands and seek out a man I believe to be wise and honorable. His name is Thousand Bones. He's a shaman of the Skoan-Quah, the tribe of the Skull."

Trinia lets out a soft bitter laugh from where she stands in the doorway, eavesdropping. "You had best hurry, then. The Sklar-Quah, the Sun clan, are readying for war against Korvosa. A small trading party came through a week ago. I spoke with them; they're convinced that Korvosa is possessed by evil and they plan to lay siege to it. If you're looking for this Thousand Bones, you had better hurry!"

Thousand Bones:
You recall that Thousand Bones was the shaman whose nephew was killed and dismembered by the derro way back in Chapter 1. You did him a favor then; he's likely to remember you.

Neolandus nods at this news. "You'll need to head north to Kaer Maga and into the Cinderlands from there. I won't be joining you; I'm old and I'll be of more use here, trying to rally any allies we can find." As he speaks, his arm shakes, a remnant of his time in the torturer's dungeon.

Trinia pipes up again. "I can speak Shoanti! I'll go with you!"

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

Ladies and Gentlemen, please post your PFS number here for my records.

The sun is hot and high above when you arrive in Sothis, in the nation of Osirion. Your throats are dry and your skin red by the time you step into the cool shadows of the Pathfinder Lodge and avail yourselves of a drink of cool water from a covered urn just inside the door. As soon as you are refreshed, a man in simple white clothes bows to you.

"Honored Pathfinders, I am Manka. I serve the Pathfinders of this Lodge and will show you to your accommodations. However, Venture-Captain Balentiir has requested you be shown to his office as soon as you arrive. If you will please follow me?" He leads up through the hall and up a stone stair to the second floor, where an open office awaits. Inside two men await. One of them is a younger blond man, Ulfen of blood by his look, who stands near the open window and fans himself with a piece of parchment. The other one is an older man, Osirion by his look, and wearing a large puffy hat of local origin and embroidered robes. He sits, looking somewhat amused and calmer than the blond man. Manka clears his throat, bows and announces, "Venture Captain Balentiir, your guests have arrived."

Balentiir smiles, but it's a tight and rushed look. "Excellent, on time. Come in and have a seat. Now, who did the Decemvirate see fit to send me?"

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

I'm looking to run the Destiny of the Sands with the same party from start to finish. The first two scenarios are 1-5, but the last is 3-7, so you'll obviously need characters that will fit the tiers. And since this is Pathfinder Society, you'll need PFS legal characters.

What I'm looking for:
1. Players who can commit their characters for three scenarios.
2. Players who can post at least once a day. Twice or more is better. In order to get these done in a reasonable amount of time, more posts are better.
3. Players who can post Monday - Friday. Weekends are generally slow.
4. Players who are willing to role-play a bit. I don't need paragraphs of inner monologue, but I do need more than "I roll to hit."
5. 4-7 players with PFS legal, ready to go characters.

This trilogy looks like a lot of fun. The first two mods are out and the third will be by the time we get to it. Let's make it mythic! I will be using Roll20 for maps and props. It's a free service and you'll need an account there.

I will open recruiting through Thursday, March 13 at Noon Central Time (US). I will select and announce players then. If you cannot commit for the whole time, DO NOT APPLY.

Sound off Pathfinders!

Taldor *** RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

Alright, I need some advice and ideas. We have a rapidly growing base of players (started with 6 less than a year ago and we're now up to 40+), but we need more GMs. More to the point, we need good GMs who are reliable and stable and willing to follow up on commitments.

I know there are lots of folks out there who have been through this same issue, and I beg your wisdom. Help me Obi-Wan, you're my only hope.

Korvosa lies silent, as the living mourn their dead in the wake of the blood veil plague. Whispers on the street tell of heroes who fought grave evil and divine wrath to save the people. Heroes who are not sponsored by royalty.

But something even more shocking soon drives these rumors out of the minds of the people. For the day of the Sable Company dissolution ceremony, people are speaking of the event itself.

As rumor has it, the Queen stepped forward, flanked by her Grey Maidens and by an obese wizard who has become her Councillor, she pronounced the plague over through the work of her Physicians. She made proclamations that her royal backing and tireless support has seen to it that the plague is over. She appoints Sabine Merrin, her personal Grey Maiden, as General of Korvosa and protector of the people. She states that the Sable Company Marines, being devastated by the plague, are being disbanded and folded into the Guard. She orders Marcus Endrin, the commander of the Sable Company to step forward and surrender his badge of office.

What happened next is the subject of much speculation. What seems clear is Endrin stepped forward and fired a crossbow point blank at the Queen while shouting "Your shameful reign ends now! Long live Korvosa!". The bolt struck her in the temple, embedding itself three fingers deep. The Queen, enraged, reached up and ripped it free and jabbed it into Endrin's eye, killing him. She then shouted, "This the fate of all traitors! Mark well his death, for it is only the first!" while blood poured from her open wound. This all happened in the blink of an eye. She then disappeared as the obese wizard grabbed her.

The Grey Maidens then closed on the crowd and beat them out of the courtyard. The Castle was then closed and hasn't been opened since. Or at least, that's what the rumors say...

Then, this evening, you receieved an urgent summons from Marshall Kroft. Arriving at the Citadel, you are shocked to see only a single guard at the guards where once there were at least six, and no Guards in the courtyard at all. You are ushered, not to the Marshall's office, but to a tiny room deep in the heart of the Citadel. Inside the Marshall stands by a small table, upon which sits a coffer. She looks tired, worn and worried. She looks up at you as you enter.

"Korvosa is dying. No, strike that. Korvosa is being murdered. Killed by our queen. The evidence you’ve uncovered that links her to the plague is damning enough, but this recent display at her address… Endrin is dead. She’s more in control now than ever. I dare not move against her—my Guard would be executed to the last man by her Gray Maidens by sundown. She must be stopped. And I know of no one else but yourselves to do this deed."

“Whatever foul magic the queen has wrapped herself in is obviously of the highest order. Endrin’s aim was true—his shot should have dropped her. I had feared he was going to take matters into his own hands like this, but I had hoped he would find it within himself to find a better route. If only he could have waited."

“You see, just this morning, new information came to me. I have received a missive from my friend Vencarlo Orisini, the first I’ve heard from him since Queen Ileosa cut off Old Korvosa and put it in quarantine. A message that gives me hope. Vencarlo speaks of discovering something of vital importance regarding the queen—he mentions something about dark magic and a pact with a devil, but until the events of this morning, I found his claims difficult to believe. Yet now… if Queen Ileosa has entered an infernal pact of some sort, we must tread carefully indeed."

“Vencarlo asked for you in the missive. You’ve made quite the impression on him, it appears. He remains in Old Korvosa now, but has asked that I send you to him, to his home, to hear what he has discovered. Ironically, you should be safe in Old Korvosa—the queen’s quarantine has cut off the island entirely, and word on the street is that she plans on leaving it to rot. She won’t think to look for you there if you maintain a low profile and avoid confrontations with the Gray Maidens."

“Once you find him, you’ll need to escape Korvosa, I fear. This city is no longer safe for you, or for those associated with you. As Field Marshal, I suspect that as long as I comply with the Queen, I shall be safe—and I will do what I can to ensure those friends and family you might leave behind are protected. By remaining in this city, I fear that you put them into more peril. Go to Old Korvosa, find Vencarlo and hear what he has to say. He has contacts in Harse—he’ll be able to help you lay low. I shall be in contact with you when I can, at which point our plan, I hope, shall be clear. "

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

So I recently got a copy of Cubicle 7's The Laundry RPG and I really love it. The idea of mixing bureaucracy and Cthulhu in the UK is happy to me. So I figured I would post and see if anyone else is interested.

Some notes: I'm not from the UK. I've not made it there yet. I could (and probably do) have some wild inaccuracies about EVERYTHING. However I do know bureaucracy very well!

If you're interested, post here and let me know what sort of agent you're interested in playing. I'm probably going to limit this to 4 players, since it's an intensive role-playing experience.

And yes, this is based on Charles Stross' excellent Laundry series: Atrocity Archives, Jennifer Morgue, Fuller Memorandum and Apocalypse Codex thus far. Some experience with the series is helpful.

Also, I only have the base book for now, so let's limit ourselves to that for options.


It has been three weeks since the masked hero Blackjack interrupted the Queen's ceremony and rescued Trinia Sabor. The streets of Korvosa are uneasy, but mostly quiet as life goes back to what passes for normal. The Queen has not been seen in the time since her speech and the Castle has been closed and locked. Some balance of power has shifted, and even the common folk can feel the difference.

You're out on a foggy early morning patrol along the northern edge of Korvosa, near Old Korvosa, when a sudden horn blast sounds from the river. It's followed by the TWANG-THUD of a trebuchet firing, then by several others. Shouts of alarm are raised in the foggy half-light as the sounds of siege engines blast. They seem to be coming from the defensive trebuchets set along the river, designed to defend against attack from the sea...

Ladies and gentlemen:

My Curse of the Crimson Throne PbP has hit one of the more common snags: we've lost a couple players. So what we need are two replacements.

The specs: We're still early in Book One, after Lamm is dead and Korvosa has gone to heck in a handbasket. The PCs are working for the Field Marshall of the Guard, in an effort to deal with some things that she finds herself too short staffed to deal with. You would be making a 2nd level PC, non-evil, cooperative with the party, 20 pt buy. No gunslingers, simply because you're not really ever going to find guns.

Right now we have a human fighter 2, a human rogue 2 and a half elf summoner 2. The party is pretty mercenary at this point, but they're coming around! A cleric and an arcanist to supplement the summoner would probably be best, though I will entertain novel ideas and concepts.

What I require: a paragraph about your concept, history and why you would be helping the Korvosan Guard. Also, what marks your character for greatness? Also I will need to know what race/class you're going for. We don't need full character sheets yet... but they certainly help!

Deadline is Tuesday at 5pm Central Time US. At that point the players and I will choose our victims.

Thanks in advance and feel free to ask questions. Newcomers are welcome, as long as you can commit to posting 1/day during the work week.

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

Okay, so one of the many reasons I hang out on Paizo is the Play By Post threads. Would it be possible to add a tab to the profiles page with testimonials by other players regarding the GM or players' prowess?

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

I apologize if this is the wrong forum, but...

Has there ever been a thought about having a PDF only subscription to the various lines? Increasingly I am buying more and more PDF products and less physical products (or only the big ones!) A PDF subscription would be great, if it included PDFs being shipped early to subscribers, as the current print+PDF plans do.

Is this something that would work for Paizo? Is it a possibility?

Dawn in Korvosa breaks over a city that has seen its shine dimmed in recent years. Slums dominate a large part of the city, while contrasting rich dwellings shine with opulent glory. In the sky above, imps wheel and fly, a common annoyance to the city dwellers below. Occasionally the flash of tiny dragon wings can be seen as pseudodragons flit back to dens and warrens. Korvosa this morning stinks, the smell of rot and waste and corruption; in other words, a typical morning.

The bed is cold and hard beneath you when you rise this morning. The small apartment you live in is nothing more than a single room, dominated by a hard bed, a table with a broken leg and a fireplace that is constantly clogged by soot. Your eidolon stirs beside you, the only warmth in a dark room. Lighting a candle, you are momentarily shocked to see a single Harrow card sitting on the small crate you use as a bedside table. It is the Twin, and there is writing on the back. It reads: "I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done." Gaedren Lamm. You still recall how a childhood friend got taken when you were just a lad. Rorry. Poor Rorry. The next time you saw her she was beaten near to death, only skin and bones, prostituting herself on the boulevard. Lamm did this to her. Lamm signed her death warrant, and now you finally have a lead, after months of searching. Lamm will pay.

A warm fire glows in the fireplace when you awaken, slightly groggy from your night previous. The bed is warm and a pretty young thing gets dressed on the far side of it, smiling at you. She leans over and kisses your forehead. "Las' night was fun, but I gotta be off. Me shift starts soon!" She slips out of your rooms with a backwards kiss and is gone. Pity you can't quite remember her name...

As you roll over, your eyes fall on a single Harrow card, sitting on the pillow. As you pick it up, you notice writing on the back. It reads: "I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street
at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
Gaedren Lamm. Enslaver of children and pusher of terrible drugs to the poor and rich alike. You've heard tales of even the children of the rich being snatched and taken. The only lead you've found is the name Gaedren Lamm, but despite your best efforts, you have been unable to find the man. Now this? Lamm will pay.

You jolt awake with a jerk and a hand slapped to the dagger you keep near at all times. The world intrudes, always. You sit up, the hard pallet you slept on last night groaning as you do. It takes a moment for the memories to fade back in, but you remember the events of yesterday: the fight you won, the money it earned the bastard who owned you, how the bastard got knifed in the back for his winnings, the elation as you realize you're a free man. You're free. Free. It doesn't seem like a true word. From the time you were young, stealing to eat, moving from place to place to avoid the beatings you'd get if you were caught. Then Lamm. Gaedren Lamm and his offers of 'the easy life.' You were thrown into a dank basement with two dozen other orphans and forced to work, steal or prostitute yourself for Lamm. When you finally escaped, made hard by the experience, you swore vengeance, but every lead you'd lad since then had evaporated. Lamm was cagey smart, and no one crossed him. No one who lived, at least.

Something fluttered to the ground as you sat up, a single Harrow Card. When you pick it up, you see it has writing on the back. It says "I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street
at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
A lead? Finally, after all this time? And with you free to follow it? Lamm will pay. Finally.

All in all, you'd woken in less savory places. Under the table at the Inn of the Thicket wasn't so bad. It was dry, warm and smelled slightly of beer. Not bad at all. And bless Cayden, you had no hangover! Avoiding the table above, you sit up, which sends a single Harrow card fluttering to the ground. It has a note, written on the far side. It reads: "I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."

Gaedren Lamm. The name had come up repeatedly recently. First a brewer you knew from Alehouse Lane had been found dead, overdosed on Shiver. His supplier had been a man named Lamm. Then the twin 8 year old daughters of the barkeep here at the Thicket went missing. Lamm again, they said. But no amount of searching had lead you anywhere. The man was a phantom. People were too scared of him to talk, or those who did wound up dead. But this was a lead and the first solid one in a week. Finding and stopping Lamm would erase your debts and would definitely be what Cayden would do! Lamm would pay. And maybe those little girls were still alive.

You always woke up in a cold sweat. No matter where, no matter when it was, it was always a cold sweat. They said it was a side effect of shiver, that no matter how long ago it was, you always woke that way. At least the nightmares hadn't come last night. There was a blessing in that. In the other room, Marta hums tunelessly as she cooks porridge. You feel a stab of guilt. Ten days you've been seeking Lamm and nothing. Every lead is a dead end. Every snitch ends up dead before he can talk. The man is a ghost, they say. But you will find him. You've given your word and it means something to you.

Swinging your legs out of bed, something flutters to the stone floor. It's a single Harrow card. Picking it up, you see it has writing on the back side. It reads: "I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done." A lead? Out of the blue? Your questions must have stirred the right pot after all. You slip the card into your pocket and stretch. Soon. Very soon, Lamm will pay.

It's morning now. What will you do until sunset?

Let's assemble the players here and start laying down character concepts. Roll call!

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

I am a player in this game. I'm playing Kereek. For some reason the discussion thread shows up in my favorites, but the gameplay thread does not. Is there anything I can do to make it so?

Thanks, preemptively!

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

As the title says, is there any thought given to selling the pdf of the interactive maps separately from the PDFs of the Adventure Path? I own the physical copy of Rise's Anniversary Edition and would love to have the maps but I don't really need the whole PDF, just the maps. I think selling these for $5 or so would be an excellent additional revenue source for Paizo and help those of us out who don't subscribe but would like access to the maps.


Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

As the title says, is there any thought given to selling the pdf of the interactive maps separately from the PDFs of the Adventure Path? I own the physical copy of Rise's Anniversary Edition and would love to have the maps but I don't really need the whole PDF, just the maps. I think selling these for $5 or so would be an excellent additional revenue source for Paizo and help those of us out who don't subscribe but would like access to the maps.


Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

I'd very much like the opportunity to subscribe to the pawn line and receive the PDFs of the artwork. Is this a possibility?

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

The Goblins book in the Player's Companion line was great and a ton of fun, but when will we see a corresponding Kobold book? Kobolds are wonderful creatures and 9 out of 10 dentists agree that it would be better to get a Kobolds of Golarion book than get eaten by dire weasels.

The Abadarian Prelate, Archcanon Hausivius paused, taking a long moment to draw his thoughts before continuing. "You're each in debt to the church of Abadar. The time has come to pay your debts. What I am about to tell you is secret, not to leave this room. Should you choose not to pursue this opportunity I will trust that you will not breathe a word of what you hear in this room to anyone. Measures will be taken if my trust in you proves unwarranted."

"Three years ago one of our priests came into possession of a nautical chart detailing the location of an unknown large island to the west of the Inner Sea. We determined the veracity of the map, sent a charter expedition and confirmed that the map was true. The island, which we dubbed Abadaria, after our lord, is vast, mineral rich and potentially a very viable place to begin a civilization modeled on the principles of Abadar. We mounted a colonization expedition of three ships, carrying 250 colonists. A town was founded, defenses raised and in all accounts, it began to thrive. However, when our supply ship landed there six months ago, the town was deserted. No sign of attack or foul play was found, but no trace of where the colonists disappeared to, either. We have chartered the second wave of colonists, only 100 men and women this time, but we'd like to send along a group of capable persons able to deal with unknown threats, in case our initial colonists did indeed meet with an untimely end. I want you lot to be among that group. Here are your terms: if you join the expedition you will be deposited near the settlement to investigate the disappearance and prevent any future problems. Your term of service will be one year; a supply ship will arrive at that point and if you've decided to leave you may return to Absalom then. If you would rather stay, I have titles of record granting you each deed to 10,000 acres and the title of 'Baron' of Abadaria. I will now give you time to ponder your response." The Archcanon sits back, to answer any questions and to await your decision.

After a few moments of pondering, the Archcanon points at seven on you and bids you to remain while the others are dismissed. Once he has escorted the others out, he returns with a servant bearing a decanter of deep red wine and eight glasses, which he fills and distributes to each of you. The wine is deep and slightly sweet, tasting of autumn days and wistful memories of summer.

"I confess that I did not give you the full story before. We received a missive from the colony before the disappearance. It was brief, but it spoke of noises in the night, of strange yellow eyes and pipe music from the forests. We did not think overmuch of it, until our supply ship found the colony abandoned. Our initial surveys of the island found it uninhabited, but perhaps we were not as thorough as we might have been. But I worry. I worry about our choices." He rubs his forehead with one hand, before taking a long drink from his glass.

"At any rate, please do introduce yourselves to each other. After all, your very survival may depend upon the talents and skills of those you journey with. When you are done I will show you to your quarters for the night. The ship sails tomorrow at noon. Supplies have been procured and loaded. The ship only awaits you and the last of the livestock. The colonists have said their goodbyes and sleep aboard ship tonight. I have also been authorized to send this along with you," He gestures at a small chest beside his chair before bending to open it. He begins pulling out items, noting their names as he does. "2 sets of muleback cords, apparently quite useful for carrying loads; a campfire bead, useful for exploration; a glowing glove, useful I understand for exploration; and a particular treasure, the silver raven, which might aid in communication while you are away from the colony. We entrust these treasures to you in the hopes that they aid you in successfully executing your mission." The Archcanon closes the chest and slides it toward you. "Now, introductions." He looks expectantly at each of you.

Alright, ladies and gentlefolk:

If you would go ahead and post your finished character sheets in your new profiles as soon as possible, we can begin. I may go ahead and put up an introductory post before everyone has checked in as completed; go ahead and post since I won't make you roll until you've finished your character sheet.

This is a game I've been toying with for some time. It would be a 20 point buy, 3rd level character starting in Absalom with 2,500 gold. If you're interested, submit a character idea and brief background below. Also please submit how you're indebted to the Church of Abadar; specifically how you're indebted too much to be able to pay back. I would like to start with five good characters. Newcomers to PbP are welcome, as are veterans of the boards. This will be a mix of sandbox and story, hopefully in much the same way as Kingmaker is.

The Abadarian Prelate, Archcanon Hausivius paused, taking a long moment to draw his thoughts before continuing. "You're each in debt to the church of Abadar. The time has come to pay your debts. What I am about to tell you is secret, not to leave this room. Should you choose not to pursue this opportunity I will trust that you will not breathe a word of what you hear in this room to anyone. Measures will be taken if my trust in you proves unwarranted."

"Three years ago one of our priests came into possession of a nautical chart detailing the location of an unknown large island to the west of the Inner Sea. We determined the veracity of the map, sent a charter expedition and confirmed that the map was true. The island, which we dubbed Abadaria, after our lord, is vast, mineral rich and potentially a very viable place to begin a civilization modeled on the principles of Abadar. We mounted a colonization expedition of three ships, carrying 250 colonists. A town was founded, defenses raised and in all accounts, it began to thrive. However, when our supply ship landed there six months ago, the town was deserted. No sign of attack or foul play was found, but no trace of where the colonists disappeared to, either. We have chartered the second wave of colonists, only 100 men and women this time, but we'd like to send along a group of capable persons able to deal with unknown threats, in case our initial colonists did indeed meet with an untimely end. I want you lot to be among that group. Here are your terms: if you join the expedition you will be deposited near the settlement to investigate the disappearance and prevent any future problems. Your term of service will be one year; a supply ship will arrive at that point and if you've decided to leave you may return to Absalom then. If you would rather stay, I have titles of record granting you each deed to 10,000 acres and the title of 'Baron' of Abadaria. I will now give you time to ponder your response." The Archcanon sits back, to answer any questions and to await your decision.

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

In an effort to trim my RPG collection, I have decided to sell some of my Pathfinder collection. The following list includes titles and asking price. I will entertain offers, especially if you’re buying more than one title. Also I keep all of my books in excellent condition, so you can assume such unless otherwise noted. If you wish to purchase, please email me at Thanks!

Pathfinder Adventure Path #43: The Haunting of Harrowstone $12
Pathfinder Adventure Path #44:Trial of the Beast $12
Pathfinder Adventure Path #45: Broken Moon $12
Pathfinder Adventure Path #46: Wake of the Watcher $12
Pathfinder Adventure Path #47: Ashes at Dawn $12
Pathfinder Adventure Path #48 Shadows of Gallowspire $12
(If you’d like to purchase all six, I’ll offer them all for $60 total.)

Pathfinder Chronicles Gods and Magic $12
Pathfinder Campaign Setting Lost Cities of Golarion $12

Pathfinder Module Crypt of the Everflame $10
Flip Map: Dungeon $10 (no longer in print; is the dungeon in Crypt of the Everflame)
Pathfinder Module Masks of the Living God $10
Pathfinder Module City of Golden Death $10
Pathfinder Module Carrion Hill $10

Pathfinder Player Companion Faiths of Corruption $8
Pathfinder Player Companion Goblins of Golarion $8

Pathfinder Companion Adventurer’s Armory $8

I live in Davenport, Iowa, so I’m happy to meet you in person for the exchange, or I can ship the books for the cost of the shipping. Also, in case it’s needed, my PayPal ID is

Discuss. You know, whatever.


The morning started like any other: a light fog drifting in from the hills, pooling in the streets on a cool spring morning. Voices echoed throughout the town, a steady hammerbeat from the smithy and the ever-present patrols of orcs in the road.

Until the bell rang.

The assembly-bell was hung in the top of the steeple to the Temple of Izrador. Worship was twice weekly, mandatory and mercifully brief most days. But today was not a worship day. Today was something else.

You make your way to the temple where the doors have been thrown open wide to allow the air to flow. At the front of the temple, the zordrafin corith, the Black Mirror of the Shadow sits, surrounded by a pool of black foul liquid. The Mirror is a slab of darkest obsidian, which seems to pull light from the air around itself. It is cold and it is evil and it thirsts for blood. Five times a month an unfortunate soul, usually a lawbreaker of some degree, is dragged in front of it and murdered, their blood and body cast into the black pool as the Mirror itself is fed.

Today is one of those days.

A haughty elf, his face beaten and his bare chest slashed, is tied to a ring set into the stone of the temple floor. He stands, defiant yet in obvious pain, as the new Legate, Carcus Verdoff, steps forward to address the crowd.

"Friends. Fellow children of our Lord, Izrador. Once more we gather to give our sacrifice to our God and Master. This... elf..." he spits the word as if a vile curse, "is accused and found guilty of treason against our God. But he will be redeemed with his sacrifice. In his death, he will find the loving embrace of Izrador all too ready to welcome him back into the fold. Let us pray:"

"Oh might Izrador, may this humble traitor's blood be brought back into the fold, and may his vile race perish from the earth, never to trouble the peace of Izrador again. May his soul be redeemed and may Izrador's light shine upon us, who are unworthy of His love."

With this final word, he turns to the elf, and almost lovingly bends down and kisses the elf's head. The elf spits at the Legate and shouts in a clear voice: "Your god is a lie! You live under the Shadow of evil! Throw off your shackles and take up arms..." His words are interupted as the Legate stabs him swiftly in the heart with a long black dagger. For a moment the elf stands, looking at the dagger in his chest. Then he falls, his body toppling into the black pool, while, for just a second, you think you see his afterimage still standing, before it is sucked into the Black Mirror. There is a single discordant note that echoes through the temple, then the Legate speaks.

"His soul is redeemed. May we know the peace of Izrador."

With this, the Legate waves his hands above the crowd, as the orc guards stationed around the perimeter of the crowd begin to roughly shove you out of the temple, and back to your lives.

Back to your lives under the Shadow.

I want to run a Pathfinder version of Midnight. However, I want to extremely simplify the process and rules. Midnight is a wonderful setting with a long of fiddly rules bits that I don't want to deal with. So I am proposing the following scenario:

The setting is Eredane, a land under the Shadow of Izrador. In the past, there was a war in heaven. The gods turned against Izarador and cast him down to earth. However, as He fell, He rent the veil between this world and the gods, establishing Himself as the only god. Since then, he attempted to conquer the world twice and failed. 100 years ago, he succeeded. You are heroes fighting against the Shadow's rule, trying to overthrow the only god you've ever known. Good luck.

Rules bits:
There are dworgs (dwarf/orc crossbreeds); simply use the dwarf stats for them.

The following classes are not allowed: cleric, druid, oracle, inquisitor. Druids, wizards, sorcerers, alchemists and summoners are extremely rare. Any time there is rumor of arcane magic in a town, the shadow simply sends his legions in and burns the town to the ground and kills anyone who lives there. This leads to an exceptional rarity of arcane magic. Druids are simply killed if discovered, so druids tend to be solitary and reclusive. There is no firearms, so no gunslingers.

20 point buy, 2 traits, 1st level. I will not be using the Midnight bloodlines. I'll take five players to start. Recruiting will be open through Thursday.

Also, you will be starting in the town of Red Grove. Please don't make characters who know all about the rest of the world; this is a highly insular world and should remain so. Your characters should be from or around Red Grove. Red Grove is a small crossroads town nestled in a valley surrounded by high mountains. Wheat and corn is grown, along with some grapes for wine. There are livestock and shepherds in the hills above the town and the requisite pub/inn, general store and temple to Izrador. You may invent any other businesses you need.

It all began with dreams.

At first it was just dreams of fire, of bright lights followed by darkness. Then it was dreams of screams, of terror, feelings of loss and entrapment, of peril and pain. The thing was, EVERYONE had the dreams. Even the elves, who sleep only rarely and never for long, had the dreams.

Then came the sound. Every day, a long drawn out keening sound, as if the sky was being rent in twain. It happened at the same time, everywhere, echoing from here and there.

Then came the dragons. Flights of dragons, all converging in the sky to talk. Deadly enemies, longtime foes, all came to speak on the omens it portended.

Last came the rips, tears in space that vomited forth strange creatures and strange men who spoke of other worlds and other places, of things that had never been and places that no longer existed: of Azlant Victorious, of the flying cities of Garund, of the lost city of Absolom, or the Disappearing Trails of Old Cheliax. Of cataclysms, catastrophes and things even worse.

The world began to buzz with talk of the ending of this age and whether a new one would arise. The fey began to speak of the Third World, a refuge to flee to when this world was no more. In the midst of all this talk, a meeting was convened by a little old man who called himself Prester Gallowsmith. You've been a message, delivered by a thrush, that invites you to come to Absolom, to the home of Prester Gallowsmith in one month's time to discuss the end of the world. The letter is signed with a signature and a sigil: three interlocking circles with a spiral at the center. It's not a symbol you're familiar with, but it seems to evoke a sense of familiarity none the less.

Against your doubts, or perhaps because of them, you've decided to attend. You choose your travel methods carefully, but you know that you may never pass this way again.

In the year 4712, in the Age of Lost Omens, on the leapday of 32 Arodus, a gathering was held in the home of Prester Gallowsmith in the city of Absolom. It was attended by men and women of all races, of all walks of life, with no particular connection. It begin with an argument and ended with the everything changed. It began a new age. - Book of Endings, author unknown

The house was modest by the standards of the city, an older manse, its glory fading, its paint peeling. It smells faintly of roses and soap, a pleasant enough smell for such a foreboding day. In the sky above, clouds swirl around one of the Great Rifts, a rip in the sky that reveals another sky beyond, one with two suns perilously close to Golarion, even at night. The heat radiating from the rift has lead to a sweltering summer and the people of Absolom have taken to wearing as little as is modest, preferring the threat of the sight of flesh to the heat stroke which has become too common.

The door of the home is open and voices can be heard inside. As you stand upon the threshold, a mouth appears from the stone of the wall, small and magical. An old man's voice pipes out from it in a pleasant tenor. "Come in, my friends. We have much to discuss. There are food and drink for you inside. Make yourself comfortable, I will be joining you presently."

Feel free to introduce yourselves and make up anything in the house you need or desire.

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

This is the discussion thread for the Golarion: Through a Cracked Mirror round-robin DM game.

Let's get crazy, kids!

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

2 people marked this as a favorite.

Okay, now that the Blakros Museum has been in THREE Society Scenarios and is a somewhat beloved location, why is there not a flipmat of it yet? I for one would love one, or perhaps even a Map Pack of Museum Rooms...

Any chance?

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

I've been thinking about alternate histories recently, and I began to think about Alternate Golarions. Golarions where the Whispering Tyrant yet rules, where Aroden never died, where Rovagug is freed, where Cheliax rules the Inner Sea with an iron first, etc.

Here's the thing. I'm not recruiting yet, but I'd like to assemble a team of player/DMs who would take turns using the same set of players in a situation where (for reasons to be determined) they're shuffled from Golarion to Golarion in an effort to avert some cataclysm or event from destroying their own reality. Perhaps they must assemble pieces of some broken multi-planar device that can stop the Big Bad, or perhaps they're searching for the absolute best ale to placate Cayden Cailean's thirst. However it happens, who's in?

Chapter 1: It Came From the Sea and Ate the Chief

Times were bad for the Gullchoker tribe. First the trash had dried up, leaving pickings at the Long Shanks dump slim to none. Bountiful findings of shiny metal and half-eaten steaks had dwindled to nearly nothing after the hurricane struck and washed most of the inhabitants of Cursed Island out to sea. Then the sea had failed to vomit forth any swollen succulent Long Shank corpses for the inevitable post-hurricane meal.

Then the sea had delivered: a 24 foot Jigsaw Shark corpse, huge and smelling of fishy fish smells! The entire tribe had gathered around it for the ceremonial First Biting of the Big Eats by Chief Lumphead the Greatest. The Chief had just delivered a fiery speech extolling the virtues of his great Lumpy Head, and of the wonders which his Lumpy Head had wrought, which included Persuading the Sea to Vomit Forth Dinner. He had just finished talking and stretched his Lumpy Head to take a bite of Dinner when Dinner suddenly convulsed back to life and swallowed Chief Lumphead in one toothy bite. Well, everything except his lumpy left foot, which was left unceremoniously on the beach. The now revived meal proceeded to smash three members of the tribe as it splashed back into the water, now having tasted Goblin flesh and gained an appreciation for it.

Then Mogfort the Greedy grabbed up the Left Foot of the Chief and proclaimed himself the New Chief with two Left Feet and a Right One, too. This was disputed by Arggie the Fat, who was soon defeated soundly by the Magic Left Foot, which was quite vicious when wielded as a weapon.

The rule of Mogfort was mercifully short, ending when he was devoured by starfish after proclaiming that he could walk upon the water. Next came Arggie the Fat, who was drowned in the Holy Pickle Vat after getting drunk on fermented coconut milk. Lastly came Big Chief Krokk With Two Left Feet and Most of a Right One. Krokk was a wise ruler who spoke of returning to the Good Old Days, when the food was plentiful and the Long Shanks were stupid. Under his rule, he decreed that the Gullchokers must move from their Cursed Island and find a new home, a new paradise into which they would be accepted with flows of garbage and many fine dogs to kill. So it was that on the Firtty-Firt of Smelly Season that the Gullchoker tribe gathered on the beach to await the Coming of the Miracle, with their Chief.

A great storm was brewing over the seas. Lightning raced through dark clouds and winds howled as stormy gales pummeled the beach. The howling of the goblin children in their cages was matched only by the warchanter's dirge of Paradise Moving song. Suddenly from out of the great grey sea, a ship appeared, huge and rimmed in fire and heading straight toward the beach. As if sent by Lamashtu herself, it came, barreling straight for the Mighty Chief Krokk, who stood with his arms wide to embrace this new miracle which he had wrought.

And then the ship ran aground, grinding Mighty Chief Krokk into a bloody sandy paste on the beach. Thus ended the reign of Big Chief Krokk with Two Left Feet and Mose of a Right One, as well as the end of all three of his feet.

From atop the ship came the howl of Long Shanks, and the screaming of pain. A rope ladder was flung over the side, and down came three Long Shanks, blood streaming from their eyes and foam spilling from their mouths, crying aloud that the heavens were punishing them! They drew short wicked swords and began to attack the poor Gullchokers!

Roll Initiative!

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

1 person marked this as a favorite.

Chapter 1: It Came From The Water and Ate the Chief

We'll start here, gents and ladies and goblins all. Post your characters, I'll give you your Gobbish gifts and we'll begin the insanity.

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

Due to circumstances which both suck and blow, I have to cancel my PaizoCon tickets. Thank you for your help.

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32

I need to cancel this order.



We are in need of 1-2 players to join an existing PbP. Currently the players are 2nd level, and adventuring in a Post-Rise of the Runelords Sandpoint. The IC thread is here and the OOC thread is here.

Currently we have the following characters:
A dwarf ranger
A dwarf cleric
A human rogue

I will leave this thread open until Friday, March 25th. Please submit a character idea and reason your character would be in Sandpoint for a mid-summer festival. Thanks!

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32 , Star Voter 2013, Star Voter 2014

So far I've tried not to give any advice, mainly because I am an expert in nothing. But reading some of the critique threads and thinking upon how to take the words that may seem at first blush to be harsh has changed my mind. I am an expert: I am expert at being criticized. And I know how to take it, so allow me to share.

1. Never Post Angry: No matter what you think you read, no matter how angry you are, no matter how unfair you think the criticism is, never post angry. It doesn't help, it doesn't aid you in any way and it makes you enemies that you don't need.

2. Don't Take It Personally: They're not critiquing you, they're critiquing something you wrote. The best criticism I ever got came from a Political Science professor in a class I took a few years back. He was rumored to be a sharp guy, very excellent teacher. So I took his Politics & Literature class and turned in my first paper, thinking I was pretty hot. He returned the paper two days later with the large letter F and If this is the best you can do, don't waste my time. Blink. Blink. I had NEVER gotten anything less than passing on a paper. I could write like a pro, right? I was smart. I was clever. I was... lazy. He was absolutely right; I half-arsed it and it wasn't worthy. I squared my shoulders, nutted up and tackled the next paper with renewed vigor and determination. I got an A and aced the class. And I thanked the professor. He reminded me of what I could achieve if I tried, so I tried and hard. These criticisms are reminding you of what you're capable of and attempting to point out where your writing and design is weakest. It's not that you're a bad person, it's that what you wrote needs work. And if you want to improve, then you're going to have to work at it. This isn't a game anymore, it's what you do.

3. Don't Attempt To Explain Yourself: At least, not until you've thought about the criticism for at least a day. Yes, you know why you chose the method you chose. Yes, you thought it came across like you thought it did. No it didn't. If it did, you wouldn't have the criticism in front of you. But think about it before you respond. Yes, you did it that way. But it doesn't mean it was a good idea. It may have been, but you should approach it as "This is why I chose that particular option" instead of "This is why I'm right." Believe me, I'm done the latter way too often and it never ends well.

4. Smile: Whenever you get criticism, be it constructive or not, the first thing you should do is smile. It won't make anything better, but it keeps you in the habit.

5. Thicken Thy Skin: There will come a time when you get criticism that doesn't seem helpful, that just seems ugly. And it will bother you. You'll want to respond, to react to the criticism. If you're like me, you'll have the impulse to strike out. Suppress it. Take a deep breath and remind yourself that it's part and parcel of the game. You'll get compliments and you'll get complaints. There will be good days and bad. In the end, as long as you've done something you can be proud of, then the only thing that matters is that you stepped up, you took the swing and you can be proud of the result.

In the end, you'll always be your worst critic. Steel yourself, keep at it and never accidentally insult the Mormons. (True story. I did this. Unintentionally. Yep. Lot of criticism that day.)

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32 , Star Voter 2013, Star Voter 2014

I see a lot of people who had computer issues in the Critique My Item thread. I cannot say enough good things about getting a Google Docs account for RPG Superstar. Your item is available from any internet connected computer anywhere, your work is not bound to a single place and it's free!

I'm using it regularly now and it's a great tool for this sort of contest.

That's all I have to say. Anyone else have good RPG Superstar tips?

Taldor RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16, 2011 Top 32 , Star Voter 2013, Star Voter 2014

Crooked Man (Bard)
Not every bard is a master of music, some are masters of the spoken word. And a select few use this aptitude to sway minds, cower the weak willed and swindle the soft-hearted.
Bardic Performance: A crooked man (or woman) gains the following types of bardic performance.
Honeyed Words (Su) At 1st level the crooked man can use his words to make even a hostile listener believe the incredible. The crooked man may target one person per his bard level. He then makes a speech, which must be in a language the listener understands. Listeners must make a Will Save (DC 10 + 1/2 the bard’s level + the bard’s Cha modifier). If the listeners’ saving throw succeeds, their attitudes do not change and the crooked man cannot attempt to sway them for 24 hours. If their saving throw fails, they become helpful and more inclined to believe whatever the crooked man tells them for as long as the crooked man speaks plus one minute per bard level afterwards. At the end of this duration, listeners automatically become hostile to the crooked man. The distraction of a nearby combat or other dangers prevents this ability from working. This ability relies on audible components. Honeyed Words is is an enchantment (compulsion), mind-affecting ability.This performance replaces Countersong.
Sickening Doubts (Su) At 8th level the crooked man can use his words to cause enemies to grow indecisive and doubt their own abilities, causing them to become sickened. To be affected, an enemy must be within 30 feet and able to hear the bard's performance. The effect persists for as long as the enemy is within 30 feet and the bard continues the performance. The performance cannot cause a creature to become nauseated even if the targets are already sickened from another effect. Sickening Doubt is an enchantment (compulsion), mind-affecting ability and relies on audible components alone. This ability replaces Dirge of Doom.
Silvered Tongue (Ex): A crooked man gains a bonus equal to half his bard level on Bluff, Diplomacy and Perform: Oratory checks (minimum +1). A crooked man may also substitute his Bluff or Diplomacy checks for any Perform check where an audible component is required. This ability replaces Bardic Knowledge.
Verbal Dodge (Ex): Once per day a crooked man may roll a Bluff, Diplomacy or Perform: Oratory check as an immediate action and substitute the result for his Armor Class against one attack. He must keep the result even if it worse than his normal Armor Class. He may use this ability twice at 6th level and once more for every 4 levels thereafter. This ability replaces Versatile Performance.

After a long day enjoying the food and drink of Sandpoint’s bars and restaurants, you’ve decided to retire to your rooms in the Rusty Dragon, an inn and bar. Sounds of laughter, singing and carousing can still be heard echoing down the alleys and streets. The Long Day festival was a success, with food and drink flowing freely. You danced many dances, heard rumors and tales and legends, some of them concerning Sandpoint. Apparently a group of Pathfinders have arrived in town to examine ruins uncovered during the Siege of Sandpoint. This has caused quite a stir, as the Pathfinders seem to think the ruins uncovered may lead to much older ones. Given the relative quiet since the Siege, most of the people you overheard think it’s better left buried.


Your caravan arrived three days ago, and has been loading their wares on a small barge for the final leg of their journey. However, your services aren’t required for that leg of the journey, so you have a few days in Sandpoint while you secure new employment. You enjoyed the festivities; a bar called the Hagfish even served a passable Dwarven ale. Now that the festival is winding down, with members of the crowd breaking away in small groups or couples, you decided to retire to your room at the Rusty Dragon, an inn run by a woman named Ameiko and what appears to be a tiefling woman named Jonna. They’re both capable hosts and you’ve been hearing talk of a caravan headed to a place called Fort Rannick that might need a capable hand. It sounds a decent job and may get you to your next one.

As you turn a corner down a long narrow alleyway, you hear a muffled cry, high pitched and childlike. Up ahead several shadows move, their long forms echoing from just around a turn in the alley. What do you do?


The journey to Sandpoint from Korvosa was a bumpy one. The ship you booked passage on, The Lady’s Lament, was meant to dock in Magnimar, but an unseasonal storm blew them offcourse and causes the main mast to come crashing down. The ship limped into Sandpoint on oars and a secondary sail, its crew beated, bruised and tired. Given the spate of bad luck, you took this as a sign from the gods and off-loaded in Sandpoint, weighing your options regarding your next steps. However fortune smiled on you: the Long Day Festival was tomorrow and you took the opportunity to join the crowds and relieve some poor passersby of their coin purses. Indeed, you had the opportunity to earn some honest coin when a talent show was held. Your juggling and acrobatics earned you a total of 17 gold pieces from the crowd; not a small sum, but the crowd was generous. (Your pick-pocketing, on the other hand, only earned you 21 silver.) However, eventually the festivities end and you headed off to the only inn in town that was reputed to have open rooms, the Rusty Dragon. You’re picking your way through the alleys of Sandpoint when you hear the unmistakeable sound of steel cutting into flesh, and a strange high-pitched giggle. It chills you, echoing down your spine. The sound came from just ahead, what do you do?


Three days ago Bones woke you with a loud squawk. A single word, repeated over and over. “Sandpoint! Sandpoint!” In your mind you felt his emotions: a mix of anticipation and a strange fear, as if something was moving toward you, inexorably and terribly. Three days later, you find yourself outside the gates of Sandpoint, which are wide open and topped with banners. The Long Day festival is in full swing, and even your somewhat strange appearance and travelling companion make little difference to the partygoers. You spend the day sampling food and wine, hearing songs and seeing jugglers. Children stop and stare openly at you, but for the most part no one takes any notice of your heritage or companion. It is only when the day ends and night begins that you begin to feel a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach: something is beginning. You feel the pull take you down a dark alley, deep into the heart of Sandpoint. You turn a corner to see a strange sight: a man lays in a pool of blood, shining in the moonlight. A quarter of small twisted forms crouch around him as one of the figures carves a long cut of muscle from the dead man’s thigh. The creatures are goblins. What do you do?


The life of a Pharasman priest is not a routine one. Three days ago you awoke from a very strange dream in which a tall, very thin woman pointed at a map of Varisia and spoke a single word: Sandpoint. You suddenly had a vision of a very old grave stirring as something lost and dead stirred. Whatever that thing was, you awoke with the feeling that it was wrong. You booked passage from your chapterhouse in Riddleport to Sandpoint.

You arrived on the morning of the Long Day Festival, your voyage choppy as the result of a storm to the south. You are quite happy to be off the heaving ship and on dry land. The town of Sandpoint is relatively new to Dwarven eyes, with mostly stone construction on the first floors and wooden above. You’re drawn to the Sandpoint Cathedral, a large stone structure that towers above the town. It features shrines to several gods, including Pharasma. You pay your respects, then head out to the graveyards behind the Cathedral. Despite your suspicions, the feeling of dread that has been growing since you drew closer to Sandpoint does not seem to originate from here. Leaving the Cathedral you are swept into the festivities of the Long Day. You sample food and drink and see many entertainers. As you wander, the feeling of dread grows until after nightfall you wander south down winding alleys near the rear of the Rusty Dragon, a large inn. All of the sudden you hear a high pitched giggle from a street over. You rush around a corner to see a body lying in shadows, moonlight glinting off a large pool of blood. Several goblins crouch over the body, dogslicers bared and bloody. A half-orc stands between you and the body, facing the body with a raven perched on his shoulder. He seems disturbed by the sight before him. What do you do?

What do you all do?

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