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Samy,
After consulting with Harmose and Aleris's players, we have concluded it would be a good idea to recruit another player to join us, in case Camus is not able to post regularly.
We have come up with several players we would like to invite, but we wanted to get your approval first.
Let us know if this is OK with you, Samy.
Thank you for your consideration.
Signed,
Turel, Harmose, and Aleris.
We could PM candidate number 1 and see if he wants to submit something, and might be interested in the group? Maybe invite him to discussion, and talk about the game?
We really, really could use a good skill monkey. Or another person who can fight.
If you're amenable, we could invite both candidates.
Cool! Let's do this!
Thank you Samy for your consideration.
I agree we do need a tank and a skill monkey as well, we should let them know this ahead of time.
As for the...flavor of this game, I think all our candidates would do well adjusting to this game (I know I am...he he).
Hey Samy --
I heard back from my candidate, Death's Adorable Apprentice (I know him as Ronk.) He sounded enthusiastic about coming in as some sort of fighty Oracle. May I invite him here to discuss concepts with us?
Great! I'll escort him over. He plays with me in my We Be Goblins campaign.
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Hello all. So for this lovely campaign I present my Oracle concept with I am thinking the Ancestor mystery and the Seer archetype. She would be skilled in combat and liking the front. She is prone to the occasional prophetic fit, which the lovely GM can try to put people on track or give hints that are missed. She will have access to healing spells and defiantly be a front liner with enthusiasm for it. Though she will have more planning in her actions than my little Goblin.
My loose thoughts on the back story is this and it can easily change if you feel it will not fit in. A kind, naive, and loyal but a little disconnected from the world around her. Raised by a nomadic tribe, part of the Yerbira. Many of the Yerbira are slaves to Susurex, a blue Dragon. She received her first vision and it was telling her that her tribe was going to be caught. When she mentioned it to the Elders they dismissed her. She fled into the desert, racked with guilt, fear, and constant visions of events long sense past and far in the future.
Harmose bows to the young woman who has just shown up at the Tooth and Hookah. "Greetings, Lady. My name is Harmose Al-Nefer. Would you like to join us at our table? I was trying to teach my friends how to play the Osirion card game, Pyramid's Rush. For that, we need a fourth player."
He grins. "I assure you, the stakes won't be high. We're playing for some dried lentils loaned to us by Farhaan over there."
Harmose waves at the cook from across the room. "Would you like to try? We can play, and talk about what brings us all to Wati."
Turel looks up from his hand as the young woman is introduced by Harmose.
I do not understand this...game very well. I certainly hope practice will bring enlightenment here.
He studies the woman with an interested look on his face. "Hello, I am Turel. It is an honor to meet you." He looks down at his cards. "Perhaps you could help me further with understanding these rules, Miss..."
A young dark skinned painfully thin girl with an mostly empty bag on her shoulder in worn and tattered clothing and the scent of sweat and horse lingering on her stares in confusion at the handsome well dress city dweller. At the mention of lentils her eyes fall to the table and a hungry look overcomes her face. I play and beat you and the lentils are mine?
Des..Deseri is my name and I fear I would be of little help to you in this game Deseri stare at the other man sitting there who speaks to her as if she belongs there. My mother was right the cities are a strange place. But I need something to eat so I will win this game of cards. Perhaps.. no forget that Deseri She gazes at the table occupants and then sits.
Harmose says, "Oh my apologies! You must be famished, Deseri. Farhaan! A bowl of your lemon lentil soup for the lady."
He turns back to the skinny girl. "I'll pay for your soup. I don't have much, but I have enough for that, since you graciously offered to be our fourth. And if you win, you can have the dried lentils on the table as well."
"Alright, my knight is in the lead," he says, "but he needs to quest for a heart which he doesn't have... If someone plays a heart," Harmose glances slyly at Aleris, "they can steal my knight away."
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Deseri face lights up with a broad smile. Thank you kind Lord! I have traveled a long way with little to eat or drink.
This is a strange game with no apparent rules. The city is full of odd wonders indeed!
With a small triumphant smile, clearly missing the signals between the other players Derseri says I have a heart and will gladly take your knight.
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It's not possible to take points from one stat to another, but you do get +2 ability points per level, so as soon as you get to level 2, that 5 could be a 7, and at level 3 it could already be a 9. So any weaknesses could be quickly "grown out of", if not wished to be retained for RP purposes.
Invulnerable Rager Barbarian and Seer Oracle are both ok to submit.
I recommend looking at the Google Drive linked on the Campaign Info page, and specifically the Character List document to get an idea for what sort of niches could be filled. I'm a fan of variety, and providing something (a race, or ethnicity, or region, or deity, or trait) that the others don't have would be a plus. This does not necessarily apply to alignment, where it could be beneficial (but not mandatory) to have similar alignments to the rest of the party.
Especially of note is that core races (other than human) are disallowed, but several non-core races are allowed (full list early in the Recruitment thread).
Aleris... I will totally respond to YOU later when we RP...
That is true. Well played. Well played indeed. When would you want it by? So I know how much time I have to read about Osiron
What would my hit dice be?
for the regional trait is it just one from the regional list?
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Regional traits are more or less the traits that on Archives of Nethys are listed in the Region category. You do not need to be from Osirion to get a regional trait, characters from any region may take a region trait (this changed at some point in the process, so I'm stating it in case you haven't read the entire Recru thread).
Would a Aasimar Peri-Blooded (Emberkin) be alright for the race. I have never dealt with an Aasimar. And the Peri sounds like fun. The bizarre compulsions and nightmares could fit very well with the Seer bits. Oh and I will take the two 14s
Not yet, working on the character instead. I am not seeing a lot for a her yet. And the four is a bit painful. Does that +2 happen at level one? And are you ok with the Dervish Dance feat?
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Nope that 4 str is gonna be brutal. But with the build I can make it str, dex with no dervish dance, or wis and I have made that mistake before. My poor fighter died painfully. Flavor wise the greatly reduced strength fits traveling though the desert for way longer than she should have with putting the mount first since it carried her. It will get better. Though I could make a truly clumsy character and that appeals too. Then I do not have to bother with dervish dancer. I kind of like both. Arrrgg!
A small part of me says put it in con and enter hard mode.
Sounds excellent, JZ. BTW, there is only one "privileged" noble left in the party -- Harmose. Harmose's family has no money now, but they did once own slaves.
We look forward to meeting your character, JZ!
Oh goody! I can tell that you and Harmose will have such fun!
I did my last PFS scenario with three dwarvish barbarians, all with charisma 5... plus my Paladin, a Rogue and a Wizard.
Other than letting me do all the talking to the NPCs, they had great fun!
You can be charming with a crummy charisma. I imagine you would get bonuses to certain intimidates too. That and we are opposites. I will have a 4 in str and my highest is cha while yours is kinda opposite.
Or we could hard mode it and put the bad stats in con. I have a friend who thinks that should be done.
Regional traits are more or less the traits that on Archives of Nethys are listed in the Region category. You do not need to be from Osirion to get a regional trait, characters from any region may take a region trait (this changed at some point in the process, so I'm stating it in case you haven't read the entire Recru thread).
Samy also allowed Osirions to pick Osirion faction traits as their regional trait, since we had so many Osirions in the group.
Tilda was inside, stewing vegetables into a broth that he knew would taste no better than the dirty water than ran from the fields to the stream at the bottom of the hill. And yet he would smile and compliment when he ate it because she had worked on it all day. His wife was not much of a cook but she was strong-willed and kind-hearted, two qualities far more important to his future son than being able to roast meat.
She was large by now. Her shoulders were still slight and her arms lined with wiry muscle from her own work in the fields but the stomach that had been flat when he met her now bulged like a sack. The bump was low and Old Maggie said that meant it would be a boy. That's good. He had always wanted a son.
He swung the axe down in a high arc, slicing through a thick lump of elm at the first attempt. After several more he began to feel that familiar burning in his shoulders and once again he gave silent thanks to Gorum that he was now chopping wood instead of necks. The Witch-War had scarred Irrisen badly and in the end he couldn't even remember whose side he was fighting on. Only that blood was brightest when it fell against snow.
He tightened the furs around his neck, dismissing the thought.
You've to raise crops and a son now, Tamhas, not arms.
He continued to chop his wood.
The riders came in the afternoon, black shapes moving out of the blustering snow. Every day from that to this he curses himself for a fool for not noticing their foreign skin beneath the low helms they wore. If he had perhaps thing would have been so different.
The lead rider approached and Tamhas, believing him lost or perhaps in need of shelter for the night against the coming storm, greeting the man. Except instead of pleasantries he received a cudgel to the skull. At once the world exploded in a dazzling light and he found himself lying in the snow, everything spinning around him. Somewhere, his wife was screaming and something hot and wet was running down his face.
He drifted in and out of consciousness for a time. Remembering vaguely being put on a horse and tied to the saddle. He has a distant memory of his wife's face, a mask of dread as she was thrown to the ground, hatred as Tamhas was taken away. That was the last thing he remembers.
How his life was taken from him.
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The sun pounds down on him like a hammer.
By the gods, I am not made for this weather. he breathes the words into the full-face helm.
The man before him, wielding the actual hammer, strides forward through the sand, swinging the weapon in sweeping arcs.
He's strong, and quick too. But every time he swings he has to check himself and I think that's how I'll beat him.
Tamhas lunges forward with his spear, getting inside the man's guard. The hammer comes around in an arc that would crush his head like an apple but he ducks swiftly and drives his own weapon home into the man's gut.
The roar of the crowd is deafening even under the helmet but he wonders, not for the first time, if they'd be so enthusiastic if it were them down here in the pit.
Later, he knew that he would be washed and oiled and sent to the chambers of his Domina - owner's wife. His body was hard and lean, his face chiseled and exotic, to these dark-skinned southerners at least and so in the six years of his captivity his life had become days of fighting and nights of pleasure.
The fighting was nothing new to him. The Witch War had made sure of that. But at first he had refused to visit the chamber of his owner's friends, leading to many beatings. In fact, his body wore more scars from those refusals than the pit itself. But in the end he had relented, not for fear of further pain, or even of his own life. But because he still harboured hope that he would get home one day and old the son he has never seen.
It is a hope seemingly destined to be dashed. Seeking to give his audience a different sort of entertainment, Tamhas' Dominus decided to put him in the pits with a bear, a great shaggy beast from the forests far north. The fight was as one-sided as any rational man might expect.
The beast tore into Tamhas with all the ferocity of it's kind. The very first swipe of it's great paw smashed his spear to pieces, the second tore his belly open like a split water-skin. He doesn't even remember the pain, just the horror of having to hold in his own guts as they threatened to spill out over his boots. In staggering back, he saved himself from a certain death blow, a swinging claw that would have ripped his head from his shoulders but instead tore of most of his face. As the blow his vision turned red as a mask of blood suddenly enveloped his face. He wiped at it desperately and with a kind of weird detachment was able to recognise pieces of his own flesh lying in the sand. A bit of ear, most of a nose, possibly a lip, definitely some teeth. He slumped to his knees and toppled, awaiting a biting death that never came. Darkness took him.
It was after this that his owner turned him onto the street, months after his wounds had 'healed.' In truth his body was a ruin. A mass of scar tissue and a horrific visage of pain that made turn away and children weep. In all the months he took to heal he saw his owner's opulence where he would fall and twist an ankle - a cleric was sent for immediately, healing hands reducing the swelling. And yet Tamhas still lay on that cot, head bandaged in layers of dirty cloth.
Bastard! After all the money I made him he never even sent for a healer!
Now with nothing to his name, no skills to speak of, a stranger in a strange land, Tamhas sees no option but to take part in the lottery, hoping that the wealth of long dead men might be enough to see him home.
He pulls the mask down over his ruined face. He wears it all the time now. In fact, he cannot remember the last time he was brave enough to look in the mirror.
What if he is afraid of me? What if I repulse my own son? he wonders as he walks steadily toward the Necropolis.
Tamhas --
This is beautifully written, but quite dark. Harmose also has a pretty dark background, but the character's personality is purposefully light, and his wounds aren't quite as fresh. My one concern here is that MM has a lot of humor and character interplay. What brings your character joy still? Do you still have light in your personality?