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Michael "Lurch" Armstrong wrote:
Sat here in the mountains of Abruzzo in Italy watching for pesky ochre jellies with my best jellying harpoon at the ready, thanks for the support for this awesome project Lurch and everyone-can't wait to get stuck into the oily grime-huzzah!
Nicolas Logue wrote:
My beloved Hodge has it perfectly TriOmegaZero, although of course a m'naaaar is more than just a m'nar, the truth is the tougher the monster the longer and deeper the m'nnnnnarrrrr, right up until liches and vampires, who are so tough and cool they just say m'nar under their breath or in passing.
And the beauty is that whatever your accent, it's your m'naaaar, except for Her Majesty, who has someone day her m'nars for her.
Jeffrey Swank wrote:
but this one goes up to 11, heh heh - love that film:)
Greg A. Vaughan wrote:
Well, two-thirds of it were actually co-written by a combination of the Rand Corporation, the Queen of England, and the Bilderberg Conference. So there's that. Not sure what to do about the extra third now, though.
I hope you're not taking the Very Special Lady's name in vain or I'll have to harshly cuff you and challenge you to another duel. Huzzah!
I should add that when Wes was assigning Carrion Crown he asked me to write Beast, but I was desperate to write Wake.
So, I had a verbal duel with Vaughan to secure writing Wake of the Watcher involving sarcasm, lovecraft references, threats about cellars and finally bare-knuckle fist-fighting, all of which he won, which still annoys me:)
Heh heh, sorry, there are some large matters afoot for me just now, good things but time consuming, so I've had to just lurk while you were chatting.
Ooo, best Logue adventure - tough choice, there are so many mediocre ones...I'd have to say as much as I'm loathed to that Quoth the Raven (Dungeon#150) takes some beating as an adventure full stop. Nic was coming up to speed to the maximum of his powers then and it was really annoyingly good. Although I obviously can't say it to him, I'm looking forward to seeing what he's come up with for Iron Gods, he is a genius.
W.E. if you think Beast was very Styes (and you are of course correct), then Levee, which is a 9-part urban horror AP set in a city called the Blight should be your sort of thing. It's due out next year from Frog God Games and has been giving me sleepless nights for about the last 18 months writing all 400K or so of it - city and AP together. It's left me with a mighty respect for James, Wes, Erik and Rob as it is tough to do. It is like the Styes, but more bloated and horrible and fleshy...
The session we play-tested on Monday was unsettling, and I wasn't quite sure if the testers were glad or not, but it was very nasty. I hope you'll both have a look and see if you can support it in some way when it does slither out. Sadly that dandy skin-stitcher Greg Vaughan is handling overseeing the project, and then I'll have to have him walled up alive.
I agree wholeheartedly about Tammeraut's Fate, when I read it I asked Paizo for Greg's email so I could tell him how much I loved it. Chris Perkins is indeed a master adventure-writer, as is the unsettlingly nice Mr Baur, while Willie Walsh is a name I'd always remember very fondly as his adventures are mad. I wish he'd do some more.
There are some fabulous adventures in that list:)
Option D does seem splendid, although mysteriously any money I make seems to flit directly to the present Mrs Pett's purse.
Mythic Evil Lincoln is spot on for me; its awesome to see how different groups played out different sections and different GMs put different slants on things.
But sadly, Captain Yesterday, you're right - I'm still going to punish you. In fact, I'm behind you right now. M'naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Great to see you all again, and thank you for having me.
Bravo to all the organisers again.
Thank you particularly to the deranged people who play-tested the Blight AP's first adventure 'Hereafter': Adam, Auke, Brett, Carol, Diego, Ian, Julian, Mark, Mark and Rob, you made my bewigged wererats, talking pig and sexy ghouls very happy.
A good point Lou, plus of course I regard it as more me infiltrating Logue's setting and hijacking it with my damsel captains:)
Ahem, 5 Rob, but 4 of those are joint and its been my pleasure to work with some awesome lovely people on them, not counting the pimpernel Logue of course. And 5, coincidentally, is exactly the number of times I intend to send your character to his maker next week in Levee, which I very much hope to find you've signed up for, and if not, I know which room you stay in and where all the rats are in Aston, the two will inevitably be brought together:)
Heh heh, thanks Wakedown, that would have been great fun, expedition was an awesome module.
Paizo know I'd always, always be delighted to take any part in any AP, even a my little pony one, but they rightly mix things up to keep everything fresh and fruity.
I can't wait to see what this great group of writers come up with, I have a feeling that this AP is going to be legendary, apart from Logue's bit:)
Just ran the first four feasts in our last game, and roleplaying in Ordu-Aganhei had been a blast so far. Batsaikhar is a fun weirdo who makes the PCs very uncomfortable. While the group failed to make tasty food for the 4th feast (Ameiko is the only one with a skill for that, and she hasn't put points into Bartending for months, what with all the cross continent traveling), they put on a SPECTACULAR entertainment show that I had to share with everyone. First, a large deep tub and a boulder were brought out to the courtyard, and the boulder placed on top of the tub, covering it. Then, Jinkoro (the cleric) cast obscuring mist. Ilvaria (the paladin) went into the mist, cast resist energy (fire) on Jinkoro and summoned her dire bat mount. Then they cleared the mist, revealing the beast to the crowd. Both then flew up into the sky, and Uldar (the summoner) created a wall of fire in a ring pointing inwards above the boulder and tub. Flying over the ring, Jinkoro leapt off the bat, falling through the ring while flipping with much grace thanks to a 44 acrobatics check. Below, Anterbok (the barbarian) faked not being able to get the boulder off of the tub which Jinkoro was going to land in. At the last second, Anterbok used his shatter spell-like ability to destroy the boulder, and Jinkoro safely plopped into the tub. To top it off, Jinkoro made the boulder whole once more over the tub, sealing himself in. Again, anterbok faked not being able to move the boulder, and the guards began to move in to help at Batsaikhar's instruction. Unbeknownst to them, Uldar had dimension door-ed into and out of the tub with Jinkoro. They appeared behind the crowd, and calmly asked for some towels. The crowd went absolutely nuts. While it didn't technically count towards 2 skill checks, I definitely gave them the credit for passing the entertainment, since it was a very creative combination of powers and abilities.
Ha, I love it when players come out with some awesomeness, you obviously have a fine group of players KetchupKing.Rich
James Thomas wrote:
Two things on this great item James - first, I'd love to see it have a limited life. I think as a few of these fine folks have said it makes adventuring a bit too easy if you get to keep it, but if it only lasts 24 hours after you've opened it, it has a limited lifespan and is more punchy.
Second, I think it could be fun to have the thing have a life of its own and go wandering off for the whole 24 hours, but randomly once it's been instructed or until it is instructed again. Plus it should only understand orcish, which could be fun. Don't ask me how it understands orcish, maybe it should have an ear sewn on as well:)
But its very cool, I love the concept - the others here have good points to make too and are well worth taking on board. Good stuff - huzzah!
“Sickened walls jut from the green waters like jagged teeth, their brickwork haemorrhaging from the strain of the towering load above – centuries of rebuilding, repairing, shoring and praying teetering on the edge of ruin above a poison ink bay of arsenic toxic waters. Brick walls rise from the dead waters of the Great Lyme River, lying in a bay bereft of natural life where slurry sticks to the foot of this failing domain. Timbers rise and jut across streets – joists shore up walls and iron bars lash whole avenues together – the endless sinking decay and toil making the city a giant endless building site – bamboo scaffolding lashes around every structure, walls are propped against others by vast beams crossing rivers and the whole place is like a pack of cards – waiting for the fall to commence. Nothing is still, and everything will one day drown.
This city continues to rise from its vile depths – buildings lashed on other buildings, with a lace of piers and ladders, rope bridges and stone structures heaved between its various confusing levels. It is a cat’s cradle of interwoven wood and stone and hemp where a trip of fifty feet can take an hour on foot. Older buildings are crushed under the foundations of their children and gaze up weakly, senile structures being trampled to death in the struggle for air.
Bright boats of all sizes ply the sluggish bays and streams between the houses – offering a quick but costly way of getting from one street to the next avoiding the perilous crossings and drops below. These boats compete for garishness, whilst their owners compete for noise - shouting, crying and even singing the safety and pleasure of their wares. Above their heads, a treadmill ferry creaks by, lumbering on despite the abuse from the boatmen, hateful of yet another invention in this city of renaissance.
The city is also alive with birdsong – the singing of canaries, which seem to be as populace as the people, who throng the streets and bay and bridges in their thousands.
And outwards and upwards the city spreads, like a Blighting mass of architecture – towers rise in distant BookTown, the garish lights dance over Festival, and the echo of sounds and life in a dozen other districts drifts lazily towards you. And high, high above all towers the grey ramparts of the Capital – a schizophrenic mass of tastes and styles, decrees, orders and tyranny.
Welcome to one of the greatest cities in the World – Castorhage, the Blight, to its inhabitants, a metropolis dancing on its own grave…”
Richard Pett gets a fan letter folded into an origami crane and placed in a carved teak box depicting six trolls enjoying a picnic
Well, goodness, you step away from these boards even momentarily at your peril:)
I'm deeply flattered by all your kind words, and do love working on twisting things a little, I'm glad you like them. It would be remiss of me not to mention the wonderful Mr Jacobs who I was very lucky enough to meet not so long ago and who was every bit as charming as I'd hoped - James does wonderful things with my words.
We're all lucky too as you mention in having an awesome crop of new writers coming through thanks to Paizo - times are good:)
I hope you're enjoying Locusts, I was very honoured to be asked to bring in such a tricky adventure, those stat blocks gave me some sweaty moments so hopefully they're OK, and finding challenges for 20th level characters with 10 mythic levels was a challenge. I hope it lives long in the memory, and hope those of you who are about to embark on thousand screams will forgive me. Shifting Sands is very much back to roleplay at its heaviest and most uncomfortable, so I trust you'll all find it very squirmy and enjoyable.
I hope also you'll keep an eye out for 2 things from Frog God Games in the next 12 months that I'm more or less concluding now - a city state called the Blight, and a 9-part adventure path called Levee to go with it. Levee is a hefty mix of sticky roleplay and is a full-on entirely urban adventure, and the Blight is very much like another slimy place I once wrote about called the Styes a long time ago. I hope you can support both these products as they'll be kickstarted and your help will be greatly appreciated. Plus any success annoys Vaughan which is always a good thing.
Now to slither away and ramp up the twisted treasure chart, thank you everyone for taking the time to post, you've repaid my vileness and the nasty places I've put you in with great kindness, I'll try to repay it ten fold.
Mnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnaaar and Huzzah!
9 years old in fact - remarkable. Thank you, Killer, for raising it once more.
Good news and bad news, not in equal measure.
The bad news is the Styes still belongs to wizards, and I have no desire to do anything on that front with it.
Frog God Games are to publish two things by me in 2015 - both related. The Blight is a city setting akin to the worst aspects of the Styes; its rotten to the core, sweaty, oily and nasty, run by villains and teetering perpetually on the edge of revolution and a place called Between - a wild frontier of madness. From the Jumble to the Capitol via the Gyre and the Unsea, the Blight is a horrible place I hope you'll enjoy.
And which is where...
Levee - a 10 part AP written exclusively by me will take place. Levee is an entirely urban AP taking characters from 1st to 10th level and beyond. It a seedy mix of roleplay and combat, features wererats, vampires, stitched things, creatures from madness and an angel. Its low-dungeon, low level action with the PCs firmly at the soul of the AP.
Here's the taster text from the player's guide. The kickstarter will be widely publicised - huzzah!
“A stitched thing shambles through the night, the smog of the Canker caressing it. Hooded and covered, the thing’s head is too large for its body and it has to lean frequently against the dirt smeared brick walls of the Lyme and suck in air through broken lips. A stench like rotting vegetables and sugar surrounds it. People move by in the smog, quietly and nervously going about their business, occasionally a cockroach crunches under their feet. Some travellers are rich enough to have linkboys, and a ghastly yellow pallor surrounds the conspirators as they flit like will-o-the-wisps through the poison air of the street.
The silence is suddenly stabbed by the sound of a carriage clattering along the cobbles – a child’s nightmare pulls the carriage yet no one seems to notice; it gulps the air as it lurches by - a slick black thing that hobbles spastically yet with great purpose. Unseen within, a naga pulls at a hookah, it is reading an ancient cabalistic work that details a ragefire elemental, a hateful thing of such fury that it can consume cities. The naga smiles and blows out a crimson smoke-ring as it puzzles this new weapon that has fallen, or rather been tripped, into its presence. The naga bangs upon the roof of the carriage for the driver to speed on, and within moments the streets are quiet again.
The hooded thing staggers on, beneath towering walls under sloping gables where great spiders crawl, the arachnids cowering from the spider-catchers who ply their trade in the dark. Both avoid the rooftops, where ancient scrimshaw gargoyles call to each other in haunting song. No one climbs to meet the scrimshaw, no one dares.
At last the stitched thing reaches its destination, a crooked house lit by the distant lights of the Great Fayre and the peculiar cutting beam of Hobbington’s Lamp—the greatest of sea lantern. Now hobbling down the stairs it gives a secret knock and is allowed into the alchymic opium den. Entering, it sees something in the mirror opposite, but the thing it sees is not its own reflection, and as it watches the shadow moves out of the looking glass and into the room. The hooded figure bows, and hands over a package to the mirror dweller, who smiles crookedly and moves into the city night, drawing a shining meat-cleaver as it does so. Singing a nursery rhyme under its breath, it breaks into a skip.
It has to be said that the playing was extremely, extremely glorious. And perhaps a tad disturbing:)
Oooo, that could be...nasty:)