I am so so so so happy for an updated library and store page! But I'm also biting my nails waiting for an update on the forums. Please... my nails are so ragged... >_<
I'm so sorry for the radio silence. The bad week turned into a bad month, but that doesn't excuse my lack of response. Honestly the longer time went on, the more ashamed I felt for not talking to you all, which turned into a nasty cycle. I'm really, really sorry for that. I'm also sorry because I have to bow out. My mental health has taken a serious hit this month; not because of any one particular event or anything, but my brain never needed an excuse to spiral. For various reasons (none of which are any of you, don't worry) posting has become immensely stressful over the past few months. I have decided to take an indefinite hiatus from play-by-post. Despite the stress, I enjoyed playing with all of you immensely, especially under the guidance of GM Kwinten. You're easily one of the best GM's I've ever had in pbp. I wish you all the best, and happy gaming.
Thank you all for reminding me why I love this game so much. As an unapologetic disaster bisexual (haha just kidding I AM SO SORRY Y'ALL) it warms my heart seeing all the representation on Golarion. I love y'all and the phenomenal work you do! And OMG that art!!! <3
I am having a difficult week. My posting will be spotty for a while. Please bot me as needed.
The cold shoulder from the whole town does absolutely nothing to help Fuin's mood. He finds himself back at the Crook's Nook after a few stingy bartenders elsewhere. At least the bird knows how to pour proper proportions. After his fourth round at his fifth bar, he stumbles out the door into the evening air, loudly accusing any passers-by of a vast and insidious conspiracy to keep him from assassinating his liver by shorting his dosages of "poison" (a bottle of which he holds loosely in one trembling hand). "Don't think I ain't onna yoo!" he growls at a passing pedestrian. The fact that the pedestrian is on four legs, and has horns, and is chewing grass, and is in fact just a goat, does not seem to register to Fuin. As he finally (somehow) makes it back to Wrin's place, he tries to chuck the empty bottle, manages to spin himself around three times, and face-plants in the dirt, the bottle having never left his limp hand. "Moofle," he tells the dirt, and passes out.
I'm fine trying it out at some point, though maybe we should wait for next level since I think everyone has already updated their stuff for level 7. For now, I have added clawed bracers to my character (assuming that purchase was OK'ed, which I think it was?)
I have to get back to work so I'll update my headers another time, but I wanted to quickly chime in @Kvit. You're not the first person who has mentioned feeling like my posts are hard to match, which feels very strange to hear every time, but I'm also my own worst critic. Regardless, everybody has a differing writing/posting style and that's okay. Great, even! Not every post should feel the same because we're all different people, you know? I like Kvit's grumpy-old-man vibe, and Lough's crazy thought trains, and Kka's moral flexibility, and Cherry's reluctant optimism. Everyone feels like a unique character, and that's great. I have no plans to quit either, fwiw, though I can't promise that won't change. I've found myself scrambling to find time to post some days, due in no small part to the fact that I'm always taking a long time to write out what I want to do. It usually takes me between 20 to 40 minutes to write a post for Fuin! (Which is still preferable to my GM posts in CotCT, which take me between 40 to NINETY minutes, depending.) Anyway, I'll throw something in the header about my reactions soon.
Fuin finally comes to, and crawls on hands and knees to a corner away from the others, neither participating in the looting nor the patching-up process, either as a patient or as a mender. His mind wrestles between fury and shame, which results in a sullen stare off into the middle distance. Some warrior he turned out to be. One stupid little phantom and he turned into a hysterical madman. They're probably laughing at him right now, snickering and whispering while he's huddled in the corner, where he can't hear them. He tries his best to concentrate on regaining his depleted focus, but it's a struggle. Images of the bloated, limbless monstrosity float across his vision, the hot, wet trickle of blood down his face where he gouged his nails in, the searing streaks of pain from the furrows on his forehead and cheeks... He's never had to fight so hard to meditate in his life, and that's saying something--Fuin has never been a terribly patient person. He decides not to heal them. He deserves these wounds. He was weak, and he let the worm's spell control him. Maybe staring at the scars across his face every time he looks in a mirror will remind him not to be so weak next time. When the party finally heads out, he follows, but instead of his usual position, he stays at the far back of the party, back hunched and scowl downcast, paying more attention to the stones beneath his feet than where he's going. He does find himself melding into the shadows, but that's more reflex than conscious intent.
Fuin watches the worm-creature warp and melt into a hideous, bloated humanoid torso. Its arms and legs have been removed, capped with wicked black iron not unlike that which comprises Fuin's own meteor hammer. Chains pierce its flesh all over, and a hideous green tongue slithers from its open mouth inside a misshapen head, leaving a lurid coat of orange slime across its chin and the folds of its neck. "You flee your destiny," it moans with a skin-crawling mixture of agony and ecstasy. "We have found you. You will become a vessel for the Midnight Lord, and your screams will be savored by all." It's not real. It can't be real. He refuses to believe it. And yet, when the chains erupt off its distended torso and rip into his flesh, tearing and sawing with black barbs, there's no denying the pain. He bites down on his tongue in a desperate attempt to stave off the screams bubbling in his gut, but it's no use. He shrieks like a tortured rabbit, thrashing and clawing at the barbed chains to pull them from his flesh. And then, as quickly as the fiend appeared, it's gone. Fuin looks down at his blood-soaked hands, feels the rivulets of hot vitae pouring down his arms and face where he tried to claw the imaginary chains out of his skin. He can't stop shaking. Is that what happened to his father? Did they make him into... that? He's practically vibrating with terror as he turns manic eyes on the worm. "Y-you," he croaks, then swallows with a dry throat and tries again. "I'll k-kill you for that." It's hard to focus because his vision keeps blurring and warping. More illusions, probably. Or maybe he's bleeding from his eyes. Surely nothing else. He stumbles on watery legs to the center of the room, looking around desperately for any way to reach his tormentor.
The Night Shepherd, for all his attempted gravitas, is utterly foiled by the pile of vine snot oozing down his mask. He slips a claw under the mask to wipe the crud away that shot through the eyeholes directly into his eyes. It stings like crazy, but once he wipes it away, it doesn't seem to have any permanent effects. While he looks utterly undignified, he does silently thank the Gray Lady that he was wearing a mask; Halanestra seems to have gotten some in her mouth. He shakes his head at Korox, both in disgust for the infantilizing language and at the idea of leaving the duo behind. "We should not split up, especially in the Darklands with trogs wandering about. We seem to be relatively safe here, but that could vanish at a moment's notice." He sits down on a piece of floor cleared by Jaxi's prestidigitation and pulls off his boots, one after the other, to scrape out the slime that managed to find its way into them.
I see where you're coming from, but while I agree Exploration Mode has its limits, I do appreciate how it simplifies the matter, even if that simplification occasionally makes for odd or clunky moments narratively. As to overland travel, I think it was probably intentional. If you're moving along well-traveled roads and the like, there's not as much reason to keep your guard up the whole time so moving at normal Speed is probably fine; if you're moving through hostile territory, then you as a group have to decide whether you want to move cautiously and strategically (eg, perform Exploration Activities like Scout and Avoid Notice) or if you want to just haul ass through it as quick as you can (no activities, just move full Speed ahead). Also, point of clarification: while normally you are correct that Halanestra can't, by RAW, sneak and search for traps, the Trap Finder rogue feat actually allows the rogue an automatic secret Perception check against nearby traps just as if they had been using the Search activity. And there are a few Master skill feats that let you perform two Exploration activities without any additional slowdown. Now granted, that means that for non-rogues, multi-activity options are pretty much nonexistent until 7th level, but they're eventually an option. All that being said, I certainly don't have anything against making Exploration a bit more freeform (which is what I think you're suggesting here; if not, please correct me). Let's try it out! If we give it a shot and it doesn't feel quite right, we can always come back to it and discuss it further, but I don't foresee it being a problem. :)
Somewhere inside, Batsu screams. The hideous laughter bounces around the inside of his brain, like screams echoing off damp cave walls. Familiar screams. Familiar laughter. He can't take it. He can't... Then don't, The Night Shepherd sneers. Cower in your corner. I will do Her work in your pathetic stead. He hates that voice. But it's right, too. He can't deal with this. He crawls deep into a dark recess of his mind as the Night Shepherd continues his grisly work. "You will pay for the intrusion," he says to the undead creature before him, then lashes out with his blade. ♦
Hey y'all! Another quick update before I pass out. Turns out I am an obliviot. That is a portmanteau of oblivious and idiot, because I am both, and I like portmanteaus. The problem with my power supply was literally right in front of my face. My beloved hellion of a puppy chewed the power cord when I wasn't looking, and then the velcro strap that holds the cords bound together slid down over the chewed spot. Had I done my due diligence and checked the cords first, I probably would have found it MUCH sooner. Anyway, I have a new power supply on the way (and the right wattage this time!) so I should have my laptop back up and running by Wednesday. In the meantime, I'll try to get a post or two in this weekend.
I unfortunately don't know the specs off the top of my head. I can't look them up on the laptop because it's now dead. Best I can do is give you the specs on the power supply (100-240V ~ 50-60Hz 2.34A Input; 20.0V - 9.0A 180.0W Output). I have a coworker with a couple old laptop power supplies for me to try; just waiting for him to remember to bring them in. :P If the power supply thing doesn't work, I also have a friend who's willing to try and get me an old laptop on the cheap so I can at least have a functioning laptop to use on my breaks (which is basically the only window I have to regularly post) and I can finally get back on track with my pbp games. I don't know how long that will take but I hope it doesn't take too long because I'm going a little stir crazy not being able to post like I want to.
Managed to get a post up! Soooo I finally got my power supply, and realized it was the wrong kind. Power output was too low, and even if it had been the right size, it came with a bunch of port adapters (seriously, almost two dozen different kinds) and NONE of them matched my laptop's plugin. So that was $35 wasted. I don't know what to do, now. Heck, I don't even know if it is the power supply. Could be the port is screwed up and won't work with any power supply. I don't know. I barely know anything about software, hardware is completely beyond me. I'm starting to get very frustrated, because if I can't fix my laptop, I'm basically screwed. I have no backup. If anyone here is tech-savvy and could give me some ideas to try, that would be fantastic. I don't want to toss a $1200 laptop that's less than 3 years old.
Fuin decides this is really just the worst job he can think of. He's fighting for his life against a giant pile of meat that will absolutely subsume his corpse and make him part of it. He had a job cleaning latrines at a restaurant in Absalom several years ago. Of course, calling it a "restaurant" is probably a lot more credit than it deserves; "human trough" would probably have been more accurate, based on both the menu and the clientele. And the state of the latrines. He lasted four hours. This is so, so much worse.
It's awkward as Hells, but Fuin manages to get the hammer whirling overhead, then yeets it at the meatpile as hard as he can. ♦
Hey y'all. A big part of why my posting has been spotty is that my laptop no longer charges. I primarily post on my break at work from my laptop; I am usually busy with my few outsode-work hours, and posting via phone is very difficult. (Nevermind trying to move tokens on maps!) My posting will continue to be spotty until I can sort out a fix for my laptop. Feel free to bot me as needed to keep things moving. Thanks in advance for your patience.
Fuin wipes the rough iron ball with an absolutely filthy strip of cloth, which he then shoves unceremoniously into a back pocket of his breeches. "Sounds good to me." He takes up his usual spot in the order, slipping in and out of shadows as they move down the halls. Every time he walks through a patch of dim shadows, he seems to melt a little before resolving again moments later. As he walks, hands down at his sides, his shadow struts gaily, swinging the shadow of his meteor hammer idly as it walks.
The group loses track of Fuin for several seconds, only to find a bizarre sight. Fuin has pulled his hood all the way back, allowing a long mane of silver-streaked black hair to spill about his shoulders, and is thrashing his head like a maniac to the music.
Being more or less in the camp of "no thoughts, head empty" pretty much all the time, Fuin barely even registers something tried to derp his brain. Chain in hands, he cracks his knuckles and sets the heavy iron ball spinning as he strides around the corner, slowly working his way toward flanking territory. "I wonder what you look like on the inside, worm?" he croons as he sends the ball flying center-mass toward the creature. ♦ Stride 20 ft.
↺ Reactions: If Yellow Strides/Casts a Spell: If Yellow Attacks An Ally: Cast protector’s sacrifice. If Fuìn Is Attacked: Shield Block (Hardness 10).
↺ Fuin was too surprised that the tactic had worked to mount an effective attack when the creature stands up, and then the world vanishes in a wall of horrid ear-rending noise.
The force of the blast nearly sends Fuin sprawling, but he plants his back foot and brings his hands up to his ears to cover them--too late. Sharp, stabbing pain rolls through his eardrums, and sound gets muffled as the sides of his hood become damp and sticky with blood. An obnoxious, tinny drone drowns out nearly all sound for several seconds. "Mawp," he says. "Mawp. Maaawp." It doesn't help much. "Fine," he grumbles, setting his meteor hammer swinging again, "Let's make sure you don't do that again." He lets the hammer fly again at the creature's legs, then throws up a shadowy disc of force. ♦♦
No reason, just curious. They're made out to be such a staple of NYE and yet I've met very few people who actually do New Years resolutions. I don't really do them either, anymore. I've found it's not a particularly effective way to motivate me. I'd made it my New Years resolution to quit smoking probably half a dozen times and it never stuck. Then one day, about a month before my birthday six years ago, I said "screw it" and slapped on a patch. For whatever reason, that worked when six or more resolutions hadn't. Been quit for almost 7 years now. XD
After Fuin's hammer head splatters Pink, he starts twirling it--both to clean off the gunk, whipping chunks wildly about the room, and to ready an attack on Red--when he stops to stare at the violently flailing eyebrows extending from Lough's face. The ball drops to the ground with a stone-chipping clak! as Fuin points. "Hold up. Did you just--?" The query is cut off as a spell-propelled bedpan fires through the air like a cannonball and splatters Red. Slime sprays all over Fuin's face, and not for the first time, he's very glad he wears a mask over his mouth. Gods know what ingesting these oozes would do--especially considering the projectile that ended the second one. He was thinking about something before that happened. What was it again...? Nope, it's gone. He turns to Sneakers. "What about tentacles?"
Right, sorry! XD We're all gathered at an inn for the two weeks leading up to the festival. Yesterday, we split our efforts. Batsu, Kapra, and Jax all went to the Gauntlet, where the Blackmoon thieves' guild tests applicants, to search for a missing kobold. They found the hapless fellow stuck in the twisting tunnels of the Gauntlet and helped him finish his test. Meanwhile, Korox, Kilain, and Zathan worked Elga's forge and knocked out a few pieces for her, but Kilain then got called away and Dyrm showed up to help out as fire weasels (I think?) got loose in the area and they had to chase 'em down and wrangle them up! An alchemy shop was almost lost in the chaos, but they managed to save it. Today, we went to a crab farm and helped them deal with some invasive (and alarmingly-sized) leeches that were feeding on their prize crab, Lady Shimmersnip. The party took out the leeches with nary a scratch on Her Ladyship! We still have some other rumors that we have yet to follow up on: 1. Some merchants have come into town with firearms for sale, and are offering people basic training on how to use them, in addition to having pieces for sale. 2. Some fool got himself conked good jumping off a waterfall. Apparently it's a favorite of local youth to prove how brave they are; it's popular enough that there are now clerics regularly stationed there to tend to (m)any injuries. Anyone who braves the falls might just earn a reputation for derring-do. 3. There are some knights from Lastwall that recently arrived. No word on why they're here, but at least one of our number has expressed interest in meeting with them to chat. Anyone, if I forgot or misremembered anything, please correct me!
Fuin looks across the room at the girl's withered, sickly hand, and her worried face. Without looking away, he murmurs to the others, too low for Dorianna to hear, "Give it to me. I'll keep it safe. If this... Denizen thing... wants to try anything on me, I'll have words for him." His fist unconsciously balls at his side. "First word will probably be 'violence.'"
Fuin's already-pale gray skin pales even further when he realizes what's going on. He looks desperately at the rest of the group as if to say For gods' sakes, DO something! His sense of uselessness has now blossomed into full-blown panic.
@Dyrm: No worries, from everything I've read, fighter is practically untouched aside from like one minor tweak (I believe they said they're getting rid of the Flourish trait and just putting in a 'Frequency: once per round' line to make it clearer). It's already one of the most popular classes in the game, for good reason! I think they're adopting an 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' approach. Some won't even need to worry about the remaster for their classes 'til next year, like Jax, because their class will be in the Player Core 2 (side note: I really wish they'd called it Player Advanced or something; the numbered title feels weird to me). @Lia: As for my class, I wanted to run a concern by you. The Scar of the Survivor ability is basically a low self-heal that I can spam every other turn ad infinitum, even out of combat. This to me feels pretty OP. (I know, I'm shooting myself in the foot here, but it's no fun to be practically unkillable. There's no stakes.) I was thinking of maybe putting a similar cap on it to the healing options available to the kineticist, meaning I can only use the Scar's Transcend ability once every 10 minutes. Do you think this is a good alteration? (At least until we see what the final product looks like next year!) Or we could scale it down even further to being temporary HP equal to level that lasts for like a minute or so? I'm open to suggestions. They've already mentioned in the Paizo blog some changes they intend to make, including dropping the Domain feat at 2nd level (which is fine, I wasn't planning on taking it). Shockingly, this particular ability wasn't mentioned, so apparently it was intentional? It feels weird though. Free Archetype: Cool! And turns out I can totally do vigilante if I spend my skill feat on Skill Training to pick up Deception. Vigilante definitely feels like the most apropos archetype for Batsu; I was kind of going for that vibe already with the Nosoi Mask feat and his personal anathema to never let a criminal see his face, so it feels like the right one. Since this AP only goes to 10, I'll probably just stick with vigilante (pending approval, of course!) all the way through.
Then yeah, I'll gladly take an elixir and you can keep the second on hand to dole out if anyone else ends up needing it. Might as well get some mileage out of your alchemy!
Oh yeah, we should probably keep the ring of wizardry. That's a freaking amazing item for a caster, so I agree Kvit should keep that one.
Okay. Apoc Golem here. I think I have settled on my submission. I made a really interesting dwarf animist, and I will definitely play him someday because he's got an interesting backstory and the class is fascinating. But the more I looked at what I had made here with Myōbatsu, the more I fell in love. This is such a weird, creepy guy, and I think he'd be a lot of fun to play. So for your consideration, here is the Night Shepherd!
Oh, I know I don't have to be a dwarf, but part of the reason I've been excited for SKT is that I love dwarves, and especially dwarves on Golarion. They have a detailed and nuanced history that I find fascinating, but I haven't had the opportunity to play a dwarf for quite some time. That being said, the exemplar I made is pretty cool. However, their backstory just isn't coming together as cohesively as the dwarf animist's. I'm going to keep working on it for a couple days, but right now I'm leaning toward the animist. It's a more complex class but it's also very cool. And I've been wanting to play an animist/shaman type character who's a Rivethun adherent for a long time! Several desires are pulling me in many different directions right now, but whatever I land on, I have no doubt it will be fun.
Well heck. Since the playtest classes are allowed, I think I'm going to make a Rivethun adherent animist and toss them into the ring. Stand by!
Fuin punishes Red for its approach with an absolutely brutal smash of his hammer. "How's THAT for a meat slap?!" he yells, and then immediately regrets it.
Fuin chokes up his grip on the chain and swings in tighter concentric circles, letting the hammer fly twice before throwing up another shield spell. ♦
Might be a day or two til I post. Today's my birthday and I'll be jamming out with friends all day! And since we'll probably go late I'll be waking up late, meaning I doubt I'll have a chance to post before work tomorrow. You can bot me in that time if need be!
Behind the Screen:
The crew waits with held breath as the confrontation between Estelle, Draxxie, and Asami plays out, and nearly exhale in unison when the situation resolves itself. Once it has, Conchobar waves his ridiculous hat in the air and yells, "Three cheers for our new captain! Hip, hip--"
"Hip, hip--"
"Hip, hip--"
Everyone kind of looks around in confusion, not sure why they yelled that. It's a really weird cheer, but for some reason it fills you with joy. ----
Sandara looks up at the brawler, stained in blood and near twelve feet tall. "How much longer does that spell last?" Before Asami can answer, she grabs her enormous hand and tugs her downstairs. "Never mind, follow me. Watch your head. And clean the blood off first--actually no. Leave it." She looks damned hungry. Out of sight (but not entirely out of hearing) Sandara makes good use of the remaining two minutes of Estelle's spell. ----
You find, shockingly, that the repairs are not half-assed at all. Clearly someone with at least passing carpentry skill made these repairs (so definitely not Scourge or Plugg themselves). They're not perfect, but the ship is seaworthy enough to get to a port where you could make more permanent repairs. ----
Ambrose comes up to the new captain and shakes her hand vigorously. "Besmara's blessed lobster bib, this might be the finest day o' me life. While I think any o' this lot woulda made a better cap'n than that ratfink Plugg, yer definitely the woman fer tha job." His chicken struts up to him and pecks at this boot until he hunkers down and scoops her back up onto his shoulder. She coos happily as she settles into her usual position. For his part, Fishguts scratches his ample belly and stares pensively out to sea. "I got a real good idea where Plugg was goin', cap, an' strange as it is to say, he was on tha right path." He chuckles. "See, methinks Plugg was plannin' on stealin' this ship right out from under Harrigan's nose. Harrigan's a shrewd captain in many ways, but 'e always had a blind spot when it came ta Plugg. None of the officers liked 'im, seein' as we're all pretty sure 'e murdered 'is predecessor ta get the job of First Mate. But Harrigan didn't care none, long as tha job got done. Plugg always felt like an outsider, coz 'e was." He runs a thick-fingered hand through his greasy, receding hair. "Plugg was goin' ta Rickety Squibs, I'd stake me life on it."
Rickety Squib's is a well-known secret among the pirates of the Shackles. If you just stole a ship, you take it to Squib's. He changes the profile of the ship, swaps out the sails (and even masts, if necessary), and re-christens her for you, all at "reasonable" prices. After that, only the most thorough inspections can recognize the ship it used to be, and only by someone who'd been intimately familiar with the ship before. "I think yer aughter take her there and get 'er squibbed," Ambrose says. "Might keep Harrigan off our tails fer a while. One man might not seem like much of a threat, but trust me when I say 'e's one helluva handful all by 'is lonesome. Add in 'is officers, an' ye got a deadly ship ta have chasin' yer stern." He shrugs. "Jes' my two coppers, cap'n. She's yers ta command now, so do as ye will with 'er. We're with ye."
Fuin seems mildly perturbed at her lack of interest in the man. And, seeing how he's not exactly an expert in occult matters, the conversation dies pretty quickly. Always a people person, Drosil, he thinks sardonically. ---- At the cave, he murmurs, "I can see in the dark just fine, and I'm pretty stealthy. Let me take a closer look inside, yeah? I'll holler if things go south." Fuin strides into the cave, slipping from shadow to shadow as best he can.
Secret Stealth Check, +13:
Fuin shakes his head at Cherry's question. "Kka's right. It'd be crazy for you not to use it. I'm not like... super religious, but I definitely feel like anybody other than a cleric of Erastil using a magic item holy to Him, when one of His priests is literally right there... I dunno. Feels kinda sacrilegious to me." He shrugs. "But I don't get religious doctrine in general, so I'm probably not the guy to ask. My healing was a gift. A gift I'm grateful for, but it didn't come from focused devotion like yours does." He shrugs awkwardly. "All that to say, you are definitely best suited to taking it, if for no other reason than in your hands, it will definitely be used in a way befitting Erastil's name." When it comes time to help the girl, Fuin stands back. He's also not medically inclined. If she had wounds, he could help, but whatever this is, it's out of his purview.
OK apropos of nothing, I just got Rage of Elements and HOLY TOLEDO the kineticist is so cool! I wrote up four different kineticist builds last night and stayed up until way way waaaay too late doing it lol. Of the four I made, I think the earth/water tank/healer is my favorite. With free archetype, I'd probably grab champion dedication to get the reaction at 6th, add to the tankiness. Some takeaways: 1. Metal Element is metal AF. A couple of the abilities gave me serious Hellraiser vibes. 2. Finally, elemental eidolons! YAY! 3. But no genie eidolons. Boo :(
4. New options for elemental familiars, including a tiny raincloud that can express emotion through little faces in its little cloud and I WANT ONE 5. Jessica Redekop is an amazing writer. The Paizo Blog post about RoE is taken directly from the book's intro, which was written by her. I got to do a Monster Jam with her and some other freelancers a while back and it was a lot of fun. Jessica is crazy good at what she does, and is also good people! 6. This is the first book featuring the remaster changes and I gotta say, I dig them. My favorite is that "spell levels" are now "spell ranks" to help differentiate between spells and character levels, which is a HUGE help to new players. 7. The Kinetic Specialists sidebar made my eye start twitching. All of them have expected names ("pyrokinesis" for fire specialist, "hydrokinesis" for water specialist, "geokinesis" for earth, etc.) except metal, which is "metallokinesis." Not "ferrokinesis," which would have made way more sense and sounds so much better. Words cannot express how much I hate the word "metallokinesis." I know it's small and stupid to get hung up on, but I refuse to use it in my games. Any metal specialists will be ferrokineticists. 8. The picture of Aziza Amani al-Fasih, the jann "author" of the book (the entire first and last chapters are written in her voice) has her wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and she just looks so freaking adorable. Also, my brain ended up reading those sections in the voice of Shoreh Aghdashloo and it was super relaxing. That is all for now. Carry on. :P
Fuin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Of course they did. The sword's gonna be stolen, I just know it. Why would anything be easy?" He pauses, frowning behind his mask. I mean, clearly someone heard us talking about the items. But who? We didn't speak of them within earshot of anyone. He shakes his head. Maybe the magic-users will have some idea. It feels... spooky, whatever the reasoning is. This is WAY too coincidental for his taste. He continues grumbling to himself as he tries to make his way through the buzzing throng to find someone in charge to ask about the sword.
There are a couple boons from scenarios I've played that it doesn't let me purchase, which is kind of frustrating because I need one of them to make my leshy monk legal. But on the bright side, I got an e-mail from Alex Spiedel saying he sorted out the AcP thing. I now have that AcP chunk and I can play my ysoki inventor! (Eventually. It's gonna be a minute, I rarely play PFS these days. But some day!)
"Mom sounds like a smart lady," Bina murmurs as she watches the flare of colors wash across the night sky. "But to be honest, I get a little...er, uncomfortable, trying to see what's under the pretty. Least with people. Where I come from, the pretty usually covers up something ugly. Greed, hate, cruelty, paranoia. It's why I never joined up with a crew. Pirates just seem so miserable most of the time. And that misery festers." She looks away from the Northern Lights to stare at the mounds of snow in front of her. She's never told anybody that before. "Sorry. I always get a little maudlin when I start thinking about--" She almost says 'home,' but has to remind herself it hasn't been that for several years, now. "--about Bloodcove. It wasn't a nice place." She forces the grin back on her face and looks up at Betel. "This is a nice place, though. And nice company. Lots of Pathfinders I roll with are polite enough, but not many are friendly. Mostly they wanna just get the job done and go back home, and that's fair enough I guess. But it's nice to have good company." She nudges Betel with her shoulder good-naturedly before returning her gaze to the dancing sky. "Far as dancing, well. I guess I don't dance cause I like it, so much as cause... well, I dunno. Cause I have to, I guess. Like an itch needs scratching. Blending it with fighting just sort of seemed like a natural fit for me. But it does feel good to let it out, so I guess I do like it? I dunno. It's kind of like saying 'I like breathing,' for me." She glances up at Betel. "What about you? What do you like? Aside from libraries."
Apoc Golem reporting with Bina Sevencloaks, wielder of short swords and weaponized dancing! I think I filled out the macro sheet correctly? Never used one before so I apologize if it's wonky. Let me know and I'll fix it. Also Hi GM Kwinten! It's Fuìn! I can't believe I only just realized you're running this. At least I know I'm in good hands! ^_^
Fuin looks at the spooky snot string attached to Kka's blade and is no longer hungry.
Fuin hustles up next to the rogue. "Hold up! Let's not have anyone going off solo, yeah? I'll come with you."
Fuin froze when combat started, and didn't even have enough time to react before Lough and Kka turned her into a grease stain. He takes several deep, slow breaths to try and calm his racing heart. The normally chipper kayal looks at Cherry Berry, then Lough, then back to Cherry and says grimly, "He's right. Trust me, these creatures deserve no pity. They're monsters." His mind flashes to one of the many public religious ceremonies of his childhood, mandatorily attended, watching a pair of Evangelists drag two of their de-limbed victims behind them on litters like hunters showing off trophy bucks. "Monsters," he spits again, and stalks out of the room. He leans his back against the wall a short distance back, and slides down to the floor. He hasn't seen a Velstrac or any of their ilk in years. Even with the incident back in Absalom, he'd genuinely thought he at least wouldn't see one of those again. Clearly, that was just stupid wishful thinking.
Others have said my thoughts better already, so I'll simply say if you make a Numeria product I will buy the heck out of it. Also, an AP that tours the Broken Lands would be wild! That one's probably a bigger ask, though. The unusual blend of themes would make it pretty niche. But *I* would play it.
Fuin stares blankly at Lough's claim about the book for several awkward seconds. Then he shrugs. "Okie-dokie," he says nonchalantly, then turns around and heads toward town. Nice guy, that Lough. Weird, but nice. ---- Downtime: Unexpected Gifts: Fuin has very exciting plans to spend a great deal of time during the day holed up in the room Wrin has set aside for him, dozing and lounging during the day. When evening settles in, he slips out to the outskirts of town to train, running forms with his meteor hammer and appreciating the magically-enhanced impact from the striking rune. The first few swings are wild, and he nearly sends the weapon sailing off into the trees because he's not expecting the force with which it whips through the air, granted heft and power beyond its mass by the magic rune. But Fuin has been training with weapons for over a decade, and he gets the hang of it pretty quick. By the time he returns to his bed, exhausted and happy, it's well past midnight. Thankfully it sounds like they're going to have plenty of time for him to catch up on sleep--and get more training in, which is exactly what he does for the next two nights. The second night goes much the same as the first, but with his forms improving slightly with each pass. The third night, however, doesn't go quite the same as the first two. As he slowly loses himself in a particularly complex kata--one whose intricacies had long escaped him but has finally started to click in his brain, at least a little--the world begins to fall away. There are only the four spruce trees he's marked as targets (by stripping away a circle of bark using particularly hard hammer blows) and the tangled undergrowth beneath his feet. He dances around roots and shrubs as he whips the ball of the meteor hammer from target to target, the angry black iron of the ball bouncing off the trunks, leaving deeper and deeper indents with every strike. His brain registers movement out of the corner of his eye, and his instincts kick in before the rest of his brain can. The meteor hammer roars over his shoulder in a single graceful flick of his wrist toward the movement... ... directly toward the form of a woman in soft, dark blue robes. He can't stop it. The world slows down as if to make him watch every gruesome step in the chain reaction as the hammer comes crashing down toward her face. Even with his eyes taking in minute details, her face remains a hazy blur. He doesn't even have time to say the word "no", only think it. His arm outstretches, following the chain of the meteor hammer as it rockets toward its target over the course of an age. As the limb extends, his fingers form a strange pattern of their own accord, and the image of the woman ripples, like a stone striking a pond at the center. Excruciating pain bursts through his skull, and Fuin collapses to the damp underbrush, grasping his head and wailing. Somehow, he understands that he did that, caused the ripple and the pain to himself, but his head is full of buzzing, stinging botflies and he can't quite think. Finally, the pain subsides and he stands shakily to his feet. He feels something warm trickle from his ears, and touches an exploratory finger to it. He guesses at what it is before he brings the finger to his face and peers in the dim moonlight. Sure enough, it's blood. He looks up to see if the woman is alright, but she's nowhere to be seen. Where she stood, he finds two small-ish footprints that seem to glitter faintly in the moonlight. He stares, dumbfounded, at the scene. What in the Nine Hells was that...? But he knows, doesn't he. Who else could have allowed him to do what he just did but the same goddess who lets him heal wounds and call the shadows to protect him? Who else but the Great Dreamer? His injuries are minor, so he doesn't bother expending his healing energy on it. He supposes he'll just sleep it off. He trudges through the trees toward Otari, mind still racing, thoughts struggling to form through the mild concussion, as he wraps the chain of the meteor hammer around his arm absently. Nobody's going to believe him. Hells, he's not sure he believes him, and he was there. Before slipping into Wrin's home to collapse in his makeshift bed, he turns his gaze up to the cloud-spattered moon and stares for a moment. Why him? Why some lowly kayal running away from his past like a scared boy? Why the "warrior" who prefers a weapon that keeps everyone further than arm's reach from him? Why the most cowardly "warrior" he's ever met, too skittish to even go toe-to-toe with his opponents? What in the world did he do to make a deity think he was worth blessing with her gifts? And good gravy, what is this new gift?? "Not as pleasant as your first one," he grumbles, touching a finger to his ear again. This time it comes away more or less clean, however, as the blood has already dried. Doesn't matter. Sleep it off. Figure it out in the morning. With one last glance at the moon, he slips inside and slinks off to bed.
Akimi opens there mouth and replies to Dev with something to the effect of "Habbabhaffuh" before following the monk off to, er... look for recipes. "Something with sugar, I hope," they squeak. Wait--palace?? Oh, right. She did mention she was royalty. How did I forget that?? Oh gods above, I bet it had the most amazing kitchens. And staff! Imagine what I could do with staff! They seem dangerously close to forgetting why they were following Ellen away in the first place, until they catch a glimpse of her swagger and remember very suddenly what the plan is. About forty minutes later, they half-stumble out of the stacks somewhere deep in the library looking thoroughly disheveled. Insofar as a fox person without hair can have 'bed-head,' they have it. "We uh. We should. Do the thing. We were doing. I will wait outside, I need um. To stand outside." As Akimi wobbles their way outside, they look like they got beaned in the dome with a brick, but like, in a good way.
|
