My group is fast approaching the climax of Burnt Offerings - and I believe they are on a path to divert Nualia from her destructive path.
Now, while I feel in my gut this is possible, I don't have a concrete idea of HOW the party can achieve this, and want to brainstorm with the hivemind so that I can be open to what my players may try to do.
First, some context:
- The party more or less know who Nualia is, and what has set her on the path of vengeance and violence
- they have already had some telepathic communication with her (via the lesser runewell) and have both left an initial impression on her, and are sympathetic to her anger
- Nualia has a living child - a daughter, raised by Master Ilsori (who I determined would have also been Nualia's initial guardian before Ezakien Tobyn adopted her). Part of Nualia's ritual demands she sacrifice her own daughter, and she has been communicating with her daughter in unholy dreams.
- the party are now bringing Nualia's daughter with them to Thistletop, along with Ilsori (whom they have convinced to go along with their plan as its for the good of Sandpoint)
The party are of the mind to steer Nualia off her current path. Nualia's daughter wishes to reunite with her mother. And Ilsori seeks to make up for his past mistake of passing Nualia's care into the hands of Tobyn, who valued Nualia's holy nature more than her personal and emotional needs.
Given this information, do you believe the party can use the means at their disposal to talk Nualia down? What are the potential obstacles? What factors and talking points could they bring up to help them win Nualia over and convince her she has a chance to start anew with her daughter? And more importantly, do you have any thoughts and suggestions of how I can facilitate this to make a climactic, satisfying conclusion to Burnt Offerings?
I'm seeking advice for what I think is a unique situation. I'll preface by saying that despite the negative events and feelings I'm going to describe, I still consider all of those mentioned below to be close friends.
The Game Master, who I will call Jason, was new to GMing and wanted to run a low fantasy Pathfinder game featuring moral ambiguity and permadeath with the goal of adding stakes to our decisions and role-play. I was on board with the other four players and we created characters. I created and played a naive, idealistic paladin seeking out his birth parents, and his connection to a recently conquered kingdom whose king had allegedly gone on a mad killing program against mages. I fully committed to the fact that my character would face a rude awakening from this brutal world, which came as the other players' characters met grisly, and permanent ends. This led to my paladin, Tristan, developing pronounced Survivor's Guilt for charging recklessly into fights, or being unable to save other characters from their fate.
This made for a dramatic narrative of character development, but this started to affect me negatively out of game.
I found myself trying to adjust to a different style of game than I was used to, as we as players started to collectively distrust the world that Jason presented us, to the point where we argued over which non player characters to trust, avoided confrontations and encounters that Jason had planned, and missed out on treasure and magic items as a result. To add insult to injury, our characters had suffered multiple thefts of hard earned gold and items throughout the campaign, leaving us under powered in comparison to player characters in "standard" Pathfinder. Furthermore, our characters frequently disagreed idealistically, or because of friendships and familial bonds with NPCs both benign and antagonistic.
Adding to my frustration was the pattern of my friends referring to my long surviving character Tristan as "The Protagonist" of the game, which made me uncomfortable for multiple reasons. The first being that I didn't want to encourage a cooperative game to become about a single person, and because we were all becoming used to the fact that our characters could easily die to random encounters while traveling from town to town, including Tristan. Further, I didn't want to become "that guy" who allows his ego to expand and poison the table.
With this combination of "being put on a pedestal", distrust, uncertainty, lack of direction, and disagreement about how to proceed or what to do, I began to feel guilty and hopeless. I started to worry about growing frustrated and angry with the other players and with Jason, that despite my engagement with the compelling story we were telling and the role-play were having, I wasn't having fun playing a "hero" who was gradually growing ever more depressed. I wasn't having fun playing a character who I was rooting for to succeed, to live up to his naive, idealistic dreams of making a difference in an uncaring and hostile world, while simultaneously growing afraid as a player of losing said character I'd become so invested in, that the other players seemed to have become so invested in. And I wasn't having fun feeling the need to reign in my desire to play a heroic paladin trying to make a difference to align with the desires of the other players' characters for fear of being responsible for more player character deaths.
For context, I was employed at the time at a workplace with not-so-constructive managers and supervisors who gave very poor criticism that left me feeling quite useless about improving my work performance (the common critique being: "you should know enough not to keep making this mistake" when they weren't making clear to me how I was meant to improve or educate myself to avoid repeating my poor work performance).
My point is; I play and run Dungeons & Dragons and Pathfinder as an escape, as a way to cope with real life uncertainties like this. But now I felt like I was experiencing the same hopelessness and uncertainty in my friend's game. I battled with the idea of leaving Jason's game on and off for months, staying on in the hopes of seeing payoff to the plot's tantalizing unanswered questions, to see a resolution to Tristan's story, to chase the light that I could see at the end of the tunnel, always just beyond reach. And also because this was a group of close friends.
Our party had recently become fugitives after being forced to burn down a plague-ridden city; its population of over 12,000 dwindled to under 500 souls after the supernatural plague ravaged its citizens, and threatened to spread beyond its walls to the rest of the continent (we still joke to this day about the parallels to Arthas Menethil of Warcraft infamy, laughing as we yell "WE MUST PURGE THE CITY!").
We fled as wanted men and women to a crusader city. A fortress of paladins and knights that Tristan had long hoped to visit to join one of their prestigious orders, and potentially find answers to who his parents were. The rest of the party were justifiably afraid of making any approach of the authorities, or of asking too many questions for fear of exposure, followed by capture, and ending with our characters' permanent, irreversible execution.
I was loathe to tread familiar ground of rushing recklessly into a situation leading to more party death. So, I reached out privately to Jason.
"If I were to come forward and admit to the Crusader generals about our involvement with the port city's burning, and explain that we had no other choice in order to prevent it spreading, is it \*possible\* that our party will receive asylum?" I asked.
Jason replied that yes, it was indeed possible to make this confession and secure the safety of the party (at least temporarily).
In game, I proposed this idea to the party, stating that, no matter what, Tristan WAS going to go to the authorities to admit what had happened, if for no other reason than that someone with authority had to know that this plague might come back, and that they had to make use of powerful, forbidden pyromancy to combat it. But with the caveat that none of the other party members had to be within the city when he approached the authorities. The rest of the party had mixed reactions, some agreeing with the notion that they were "done running", and others outright stating how stuipid the idea was because it was "too risky".
We agreed that I would hold off from following through until we had completed a job for a local smithy to recover a lost ore shipment due in from a nearby village. In need of funds, we set out alongside an NPC companion named Emilia, a woman long ago rescued by Tristan. After several days' travel and a random encounter and successful battle against a gang of ogres, we were in high spirits.
I felt for the first time in weeks like we were actually playing heroes who could make a difference. Like I was actually playing Pathfinder and having fun with friends rather than descending into a hopeless void.
We found the smithy's cart by the side of the road, its wheels splintered, smears of blood staining the remaining timbers alongside tatters of torn clothing, with only traces of the ore that was to be delivered. We also discovered tracks hinting at an attack by insect like monsters somewhere between the size of a wolf and a bear. With a few successful knowledge checks, we determined that the likely culprits were rust monsters; Insect like predators that dug through the earth for ore, but would also hunt live prey to absorb trace metals in their blood.
We followed their trail through the woods to an abandoned quarry and stood at the lip overlooking the descent. Now, I was feeling confident that we could handle 3 or 4 such creatures. We were a party of five level 6 adventurers with an NPC aiding us. We would probably lose some of our gear, sure, but we could win, and we'd accomplish a job and get some reward upon returning to the fortress. Nothing could be gained by playing cautiously and fearfully like we had through the majority of the campaign. And I was tired of waiting, and worse, agonizing with and against the other players over every risk, or outright avoiding encounters and the following rewards that Jason had been expecting to give us. I was tired of losing to my own fear and insecurity.
I tossed a metal shield into the quarry with a clang! expecting the rust eaters to emerge and take the bait. 3 wolf sized, chitin plated insects scrambled from the dirt, their antennae testing the air as a larger specimen emerged. Jason set up his initiative tracker, labelling this larger prize beast as a "rust lord". I pondered over this for only a moment, deciding that it was just a slightly larger and stronger version of a rust monster, and that we could still win this. After all, at least some of them would take the metallic bait I had tossed down.
As one mass, they ignored the shield and tunnelled into the walls of the quarry, straight for us.
We braced ourselves as they sprang on us, holding our own for one round, and then another, we engaged the alpha. Another character, a fighter, swung at the rust lord and hit... Before his weapon dissolved to the hilt in seconds. This caught me completely by surprise; the rust monster I was familiar with only ate weapons when it attacked and hit, not when an attacker struck it with a weapon attack. Furthermore, the rest of the pack were scoring hits on our party, chewing through armor and hit points simultaneously. Our optimistic outlook of victory shifted to fear of losing multiple party members in the space of 2 rounds because I had once again rushed in.
At this point, I was at a loss. Weren't we supposed to fight these things? Wasn't that Jason's intention? Wasn't this an encounter he had planned for us? Wasn't this something we could win?
In desperation and frustration, I used a hero point, asking for a direct clue: "Is this a fight we can win?" I asked.
Jason looked over the battlemat, then looked up at me, and said; "This is not a fight that you can currently win. No."
On my next turn I cut at the straps of my hard earned scale mail, hoping it would distract the beasts, and declared that I was making a full withdrawal from the fight. "We've got to run!" Tristan shouted. The rest of the party followed suit, losing several pieces of valuable gear to save their lives.
After the party had fled back to the road with their lives, several of my companions rounded on me; accusing me of recklessness, demanding to know what I was thinking, shouting how stupid I had been to rush into another fight that could have killed us.
I quietly answered that I thought it had been the right thing to do, avoiding the eyes of the other players as they continued to demand answers.
I was suddenly feeling like I was back at work, with my supervisors demanding answers, and criticizing my work performance.
"We have to return to the fortress. We can't stay out here. We're vulnerable without armor. We have to regroup." I whispered, trying to stay calm, trying to see a way forward as an all too familiar panic and hopelessness was starting to engulf me.
The remaining 30 minutes of that session was a blur of back and forth between the rest of the party about what to do, with Jason, through Emilia, challenging us to stay and finish the job, to lay a trap for the rust monsters amidst the trees where they wouldn't be able to dig through the roots, a suggestion that triggered feelings of confusion and anger in me: How could Jason expect us to stay and fight after that experience? How could he expect us to survive? Were we somehow meant to have figured out that rust monsters couldn't dig through tree roots on our own?"
I stayed silent for fear that I would either rage at everyone present or burst into tears.
The next day, I announced in messenger that I was leaving the game.
I have stayed in contact with the group and run games for them, and continue to hear about the group's progress through Jason's campaign.
He later explained to everyone that he had expected us to embrace a style of game emulating The Witcher series, emphasizing study and research about encounters before forming plans and heading in, a fact that came as a surprise to me, as I had assumed we had been playing something more akin to Dragon Age Origins. This has left me with an anger that I cant shake even to this day; "why couldn't you have told us this at the game's start?"
The other players have continued to keep me abreast of the developments in the game's story: including the success of Tristan's plan to come forward, earning safety for the party within the crusader fortress. But also of Tristan's murder at the hands of one of the party members, who, to make a long story short, had received orders to kill him as vengeance for the burning of the plagued city. So even if I were ever brave enough, and ever had the opportunity to return to the game, I would now never be able to continue Tristan's story after putting so much time, thought, and care into his character, his development, and his survival. It was over. And I wasn't even there to see it end.
I've tried as much as possible to seperate myself from that experience; to remind myself that the in game experience is seperate from who I am, that the criticism I received was meant to be in-character drama that was not meant to be directed at me. My friends have been supportive after telling them this, they miss me at the table, and I'm still friends with everyone outside the game, and I want to keep gaming with them.
It left feeling like I'm trying to recover from a breakup in a relationship lasting years, strange as that may sound.
Since typing up this essay several weeks ago, I shared it with my group of friends, including Jason. All of them understood where I was coming from, expressing a mix of frustration and guilt about my leaving, about how preventable it was to avoid the turmoil, and how they wish they had known or acted better. I still consider them friends, as they do me, and I feel relieved after having opened up to them about my point of view, even if I still feel sour about the permanent “off screen” (from my perspective) death of my character.
Even now I’m struggling to move on from those negative feelings, trying to see the positive aspects of that time spent, and focus on the positive aspects of the friendship I still have with this group.
Have any of you had a situation like this at or your table or with your group? What was your experience? And how did you respond? I'm also happy to answer any questions.
I am in the process of planning a campaign set after the destruction of Ragnarok, specifically, a world where the remnants of the sun exist as "shards" that provide heat, warmth, and perhaps most importantly, the possibility of farming within a finite area.
Drow, duergar, orcs, and other "monstrous" races have taken spread across the perpetually dark surface world, warring and raiding among themselves for resources and territory.
Here's the problem i'm running into:
While there will certainly be some conflict between "outsiders" trying to "break in" to the shard lit territory of surface dwelling races, and those within who have a finite amount of food, i'm having trouble coming up with other conflicts to inspire adventure ideas; Sure, the drow, duergar and orcs are taking over, but logically, I cant think of a good reason for them to throw themselves into a conflict for relatively little land when they have literally the rest of the world to plant fungus farms.
There are definitely some interesting stories I can make for my players about old blood feuds, political intrigue and tough decision making, but I'd like to give them some good reasons to go out "into the night" as it were.
I am in the process of creating a custom campaign setting for my players, with the main premise being that the sun has shattered, leaving most of the world in perpetual night, while a host of nations have obtained a "sun stone", a shard of the broken sun, which keeps a reasonable swath of territory in perpetual daylight.
Assuming I go the mythological route and assume the world is a flat disc, how much territory would a "miniature sun" cover from different elevations? Say, from the top of a mountain? Or from the top of a floating city/fortress?
I am in the process of creating a custom campaign setting for my players, with the main premise being that the sun has shattered, leaving most of the world in perpetual night, while a host of nations have obtained a "sun stone", a shard of the broken sun, which keeps a reasonable swath of territory in perpetual daylight.
Assuming I go the mythological route and assume the world is a flat disc, how much territory would a "miniature sun" cover from different elevations? Say, from the top of a mountain? Or from the top of a floating city/fortress?
A thought occurred to me last night while playing in a friend's ongoing game.
The Story:
Our party had arrived in a small town to attend the funeral of two friends. Several important town figures and family of the deceased were in attendance, including the local town wizard. Several individuals rose to deliver eulogies and goodbyes, until it came to the wizard's turn.
"Well, now that everyone else is done and quiet..." he began, his lips twisting into a snarl. My paladin was already tensing in his seat, and the rest of the party exchanged glances as mourners shuffled and mumbled in their seats, and fingers crept toward blade handles.
"It's MY TURN to have your attention." The wizard sneered and raised a glowing palm, the scent of ozone bursting in our nostrils as we rose to charge from our seats.
Our GM called for saving throws. All of us failed.
A clap of thunder burst in the centre of the seats, flinging us off our feet and scattering the mourners in a cacophony of pained cries and splintering wood. Our heads swam with the whine of tinnitis as we crawled forward, spitting curses and oaths of violence.
The wizard smiled and stood over Marie, the wife of one of the dead, who lay sprawled and struggling on her back. Again the wizard raised his outstretched palm, aiming down at the stunned widow.
"I see now that you'll never be mine, Marie." He said, as blue light gathered in his palm.
"If I can't have you, no one can." He snarled. The crackle of energy burst from his palm in a scattering of blue bolts that hammered down, blasting Marie's face into a red pulp.
Cries went up as we pushed to our feet - my fingers closed on my sword, the rogue brandished her sentient blade, and the cleric was pushing between the wrecked pews to meet the object of his wrath.
But the wizard had already grasped Marie's daughter, Yukiko, clasping the girl close to him.
"If I can't have your mother, then I shall have you instead, girl!" And casting a final, snarling smile across the carnage, the wizard pursed his fingers together, snapped his fingers, and was gone in a flash of light, and Yukiko with him.
TLDR; The local wizard ambushed a funeral and made off with the daughter of the deceased.
Now, this situation brought up several questions for me. How did no one in the town see this coming? Did no one know of the wizard's obsession ahead of time? Had there been no warning?
Then I started to consider some more far reaching implications of the situation:
Did the town even have any kind of response in case the wizard went awol? Or if another rogue caster arrived in town? What laws exist to respond to these situations?
In essence: How does a society regulate the use of magic?
Some thoughts have occurred to me already: The need for a registry, identification or "license" to practice magic.
But this also opens up a morally dubious area of questioning: "Learned" casters such as wizards and clerics would be voluntarily submitting themselves to this necessary invasion of their privacy. To make an analogy with gun regulation - anyone carrying a gun makes the choice to submit themselves to scrutiny. It is a choice they make in order to legally carry a weapon.
But what about sorcerers? Oracles? Bards? And other casters who are born with and have no choice? To continue the previous analogy, it would be akin to being born with a biological equivalent of a handgun gorwing from your arm instead of a hand.
How might different social and legal structures enforce magical regulation? How would they treat individuals who have no say over their connection to magic?
Regards,
A DM who wants to tell some interesting stories.
I'm having some trouble explaining to a player why the Archmage path ability, "Abundant Casting" does not work with "Scorching Ray"
According to the path ability description for Abundant Casting, "Whenever you cast a spell that specifically targets a limited number of targets (such as “one creature/level” or “one or more creatures”), add your tier to the number of targets the spell can affect."
My player has taken this to mean that he can fire off 2 additional bursts of Scorching Ray (thanks to his 2 mythic tiers), making for a total of 9 rays fired.
My understanding is that this shouldn't work as the spell isn't "targeting" a specific number of creatures, but manifesting bolts of fire that the caster can direct at will. For Abundant Casting to work (again, by my reading), a spell has to list in its descriptors something like "1 target/Caster level", and Scorching Ray doesn't have this descriptor.
I've tried to explain this to my player, but he is confused by my explanation as he is still "targeting" creatures with his scorching rays.
So, Hivemind, can you please advise how I can more clearly explain my reasoning? Or else clarify if my reading of the ability and spell is incorrect?
My party are mythic heroes, currently disguising themselves as they explore the occupied town of Losthome in The Lands of the Linnorm Kings.
One of the NPCs they are interacting with is an Ulfen warrior who has allied himself to the winter witches - the party have bluffed their way into his confidence, and he has made them the proposition of competing in a series of "pit fights" to entertain the unruly Ulfen and try to endear them to the town's new leadership of Irriseni witches.
My current map of the "pit" is of a massive sandpit underneath wide floor gratings on the main level of the Ulfen warrior's longhouse (think Jabba The Hutt's trap door leading to the Rancor battle in Return of the Jedi). The pit features spiked walls, and several mechanical, spinning pillars that not only support the grating, but also serve as spinning hazards of jagged metal.
The hope here is that these hazards will affect movement and tactics, but that the players will also realize that they could destroy these pillars to bring the grating down - the encounters I have in mind will include challenges emerging above the fight as well, including other NPCs who may recognize the party as intruders.
But what improvements could I make to this encounter to encourage changing positions and force the players to keep on their toes?
I am about to run my party through an urban centered set of encounters and adventures. While several encounters will still feature traditional "Monsters", a greater percentage of the party's encounters will be with powerful NPCs.
A problem I have previously had when running NPC focused games has been the disproportionate quantity/need of treasure and magic items that powerful NPCs have in the rules as written. The issue I have with this is that I don't want my party collecting "+1 longsword" after "+1 longsword" after several encounters, as I feel this "cheapens" the value and importance of the players' magic items.
Your +3 Dragonbane Greatsword may have a long, mythical history behind it - but after encountering 12 swords of approximate power in the hands of the elite guards you just slew, you might start to wonder why your sword is considered so special.
Now, I like giving major antagonists and bosses powerful items for the party to recover, but not their rank and file minions.
Obviously, taking magic items away from NPCs represents a drop in effectiveness as enemies - are there some handy ways to balance this? Is it a simple matter of assuming this reduces their Challenge Rating and plan encounters accordingly? Or do you, The Hivemind, have any other suggestions?
Paizo have stated that they're never going to tell anyone how Aroden actually died. Okay.
But they do have a concrete explanation for how he died in the back of their minds...
So here's what I'm wondering...
Have Pathfinder's writers and publishers been leaving subtle hints and breadcrumbs throughout their published products? Like a jigsaw puzzle of seemingly disparate parts, rumors, myths and facts which are only visible once you line up all the pieces correctly?
For example, is it possible to draw any conclusions by comparing different regional timelines side by side? Immediately after Aroden's death, the Worldwound swallowed Sarkoris, and a continent sized hurricane separated the colony of Sargava from its mother nation of Cheliax.
These are merely surface level observations, are there other, perhaps less obvious effects and events that are tied to Aroden's death that help fill in the blanks surrounding his demise?
Recently I have been encountering a curious trend in my Mythic Pathfinder game. One that I worry will become problematic without my addressing it.
One player out of the group plays a powerhouse of a barbarian champion who wields a double ended sword to devastating effect when he "fleet charges" across the field, occasionally downing the party's major foes in one or two turns.
He enjoys this. Personally, I enjoy this too: It's part of the reason why I added Mythic Rules, so that my players could enjoy pulling off ridiculous/incredible feats.
At the moment, I believe that the other players find <some> enjoyment from this, and they still have moments to shine as well by doing similarly incredible stunts.
My concern is that this routine will become repetitive, and that as the player characters scale in power, the barbarian player (who creates his characters very intelligently, and tends to have the best grasp of combining different elements of the rules) will dominate combat situations to the point where the other players may feel out-classed or "left behind".
I should point out that my group and I are generally mature, friendly people who are able to give and receive criticism gracefully and tactfully. I don't want to rob anyone of enjoying combat, feeling useful as part of the group, or of feeling that I am punishing them for using the rules effectively, including our barbarian.
That being said, there are some possible changes I'm looking to implement to help balance the scales, and I'd like some feedback.
Spoiler:
1. Increasing the MP costs for "Fleet Charge" and other Path Abilities
This is a rule change that Legendary Games suggests in "Mythic Hero's Handbook", essentially adding a scale of increasing cost for certain path abilities and mythic spells rather than simply spending 1 MP for anything and everything. You want to fleet charge as a standard action? 1 MP. As a move action? 2 MP. As a swift action? 3 MP. This would mean the barbarian can still enjoy sprinting across an open field to eviscerate his enemies, but he might not be able to do so quite as often.
2. Banning "Fleet Warrior"
"Fleet Warrior" is a path ability that allows a character to move and make a full attack in the same turn. Essentially a "Fleet Charge" without an MP cost. To keep rule change "1" above relevant, I feel like this is a necessary change to include.
3. Changing up encounter terrains, dynamics and "goals"
Barbarian can't eviscerate an enemy if he can't reach them without help, and adding some additional goals or time constraints serves to add challenge for the entire party. Additionally challenges that don't revolve around combat ability can also help other party members feel useful - if not integral - to the party's success... Though I could use some suggestions on how to implement this.
4. Buffing up the enemies.
Truth be told: I haven't thrown that many mythic foes against the party, though they still have held their own against the ones they have faced.
I want to implement this with the philosophy that Pathfinder is built to favor the players' chances of winning - but victory should not feel trivial, especially in a mythic game.
Important foes, I have thought, should not only have maxed HP, but receive double the recommended hit points from their mythic tiers, possibly more...
They need smaller mooks, to help divide the party's action economy.
Increases to a major foes offenses should be minimal: If the foe can take down one of the players with a single attack, then they are generally too powerful.
I am also considering giving most important foes an additional "true" damage resistance of 10 or 15, depending on how challenging they are meant to be, along with varying levels of fast healing or regeneration, depending on the circumstances.
Over all, I feel that our barbarian hits foes 85% of the time, for massive damage while remaining difficult to hit himself. I want to keep fights interesting for the entire party without punishing anyone.
All of my players are reasonable, and they have so far embraced my suggested changes positively - but now I'd like your opinion, fellow players.
My group of players in a "Lands of The Linnorm Kings" based game have reached level 10, Mythic Tier 2, and I'm now starting to understand just how much even one to two tiers has a way of trivializing "mundane" encounters.
This has been fine so far; My players are having fun dominating high powered monsters and npcs with their mythic power.
However, I ultimately want to steer things toward "atmospheric norse myth" as opposed to "massive number crunching for total pwnage" - and to that end I want to create some foes that can actually stand toe to toe with my player characters while embodying "mythical themes".
What I'm hoping for are some general guidelines: Who else has had experience adding Mythic ranks or tiers to their NPCS and monsters? How did you balance things out for your game? How did it work out? How can I tweak things to optimize my "mythical" NPCs?
To give an example: Ingrimundr the Unruly is an NPC barbarian king in the lands of the linnorm kings. My plot is that he will eventually set off a civil war out of a desire to return his people back to their "glorious viking days".
Here's where I want to add a spark of "mythic" to the mix, taking a healthy dose of inspiration from the tale of Sigurd and Fafnir.
Here's the deal: In order to become king of a region, a warrior must slay a linnorm - a primordial fey dragon. However, Ingrimundr, being the hyper-masculine nut-job that he is, starts taking advice from demon lord Kostchtchie (also an enemy of Baba Yaga). Kostchtchie congratulates Ingrimundr on besting a worm, but then says that if he REALLY wants to go hardcore, he should mix up a potion of Linnorm's blood and chug that sucker for some major gain.
So Ingrimundr chugs a mix of wyrm blood and gets even more ripped than before, including the benefits of mythic power, as well as some... draconic abilities.
Get him down to a low enough number of Hit Points however, and Ingrimundr's dragon blood will boil over, ripping his body apart and turning him into a monster.
So I'm in two minds:
Either stat up Ingrimundr as a mythic (half dragon?) barbarian with the unique ability to go "dragon mode" when his Hit Points fall too low, or simply stat him up as a unique, mythic dragon.
What kind of creatures might we see accompanying a military force of duergar?
Monster codex has helpfully provided some beetles, but what else could be logically added for variety?
Would we see constructs? Slave auxiliaries?
What about summoned and bound outsiders? What outsiders are even associated with the duergar deity, Droskar? He's neutral evil, has a home on the abyss... so does he have stronger connections with demons? Devils? Daemons (who hate mortals because they are the source of sin - and therefore demons)?
In The Lands of the Linnorm Kings, rulership is decided by proving your worth and slaying a fey dragon.
So what happens when a ruler dies? Where does that authority go? Do the citizens hold a Thing and elect a "placeholder"? Does the kingdom descend into total anarchy as lesser jarls make a bid for power? Or does another Linnorm King "step in" and take control?
I am introducing a new "boss" enemy to my players in the next few sessions of a mythic game set in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. The party has just reached level 9, and their 2nd mythic tier, but I expect they will reach level 10 before facing the following encounter.
The party makeup is as follows:
a shifter barbarian/ranger Champion
a human ranger Guardian
an elf evoker Archmage
an elf (reincarnated human)monk/ninja Trickster
a human druid Hierophant
The party will soon be headed into invaded territory, now occupied by a force of lesser "wendigo spawn" (a dialed down, or "younger" version of a true wendigo) and a winter witch from Irrisen who, through contact with a powerful artifact, has not only suffered a transformation into a wendigo, but also unlocked mythic power...
Her stats are below.
In particular, I am looking for a critique of whether there are any significant design holes - anything that makes her either game-breakingly difficult or easy for this party makeup (they do tend to be able to easily handle encounters considered "challenging", but I also want to gauge whether I'm throwing them into a TPK)
Spoiler:
Nazhena CR14/MR 5
XP
Female Wendigo Spawn Simple Witch
CE Medium Outsider (Cold, Native, Evil, Chaotic)
Init +32/+12 (Dual Initiative); Senses Blindsight 60 ft, Darkvision 60 ft, low light vision; Perception +17
Defense
AC 29; Touch 18; Flat-Footed 29; (+8 Dex, +11 Natural) 20% concealment miss chance (blur), Resist Fire 30 (+4 on Reflex saves to half damage)
HP 226 (11d10+116) Regeneration 10 (fire)
Fort +9; Ref +15; Will + 10
Defensive Abilities ; DR 10/Epic and Cold Iron; Immune Cold and Fear; Resist ; SR 26
Vulnerable to Fire (x 1.5)
Offense
Speed 120 ft fly (Perfect)
Space 5ft; Reach 5ft
Melee Bite +14 (2d6+3/19-20 plus 2d6 cold and grab), 2 claws +14 (1d8+3/19-20 plus 2d6 cold)
Special Attacks Mythic Power (7/day; surge +1d8 – 2 already spent on Detect Scrying and Resist Energy), Mythic Spellcasting, Mythic Spellpower 2/day (one spent on resist energy), Abundant Casting
Spell-Like Abilities (CL )
Spells Known/Prepared (CL )
5th — DC 25 Cone of Cold M (2), Dominate Person M
4th — DC 24 Solid Fog M, Scrying, Detect ScryingM *
3rd — DC 23 Bestow Curse , Ice Ball M (3) (as fireball)
2nd — DC 22 Blur *, Resist Energy (Fire)M*, Blindness/Deafness (2)
Statistics
Str 17, Dex 27, Con 23, Int 30, Wis 16, Cha 20
Base Atk +11; CMB +14 (+18 grapple); CMD 32
Feats Ability Focus (Howl), Critical Focus, Flyby Attack, Improved Critical (bite, claws), Improved Initiative
Skills ;
Languages
SQ
Dream Haunting (Su) When a wendigo uses its nightmare spell-like ability, the victim is also exposed to wendigo psychosis.
Howl (Ex) Three times per day as a standard action, a wendigo can emit a forlorn howl that can be heard up to a mile away. Any who hear the howl must make a DC 22 Will save to avoid becoming shaken for an hour. Creatures within 120 feet become panicked for 1d4+4 rounds, and those within 30 feet cower with fear for 1d4 rounds. This is a mind-affecting fear effect. The save DC is Charisma-based.
Wendigo Psychosis (Su) Curse—Nightmare or wind walk; save Will DC 20; onset 1 minute; frequency 1/day; effect 1d4 Wis drain (minimum Wis 1); cure 3 consecutive saves. When a victim's Wisdom reaches 1, he seeks an individual of his race to kill and devour. After completing this act, the afflicted individual takes off at a run, and in 1d4 rounds sprints up into the sky at such a speed that his feet burn away into jagged stumps. The transformation into a wendigo takes 2d6 minutes as the victim wind walks across the sky. Once the transformation is complete, the victim is effectively dead, replaced by a new wendigo. True resurrection, miracle, or wish can restore such a victim to life, yet doing so does not harm the new wendigo. The save is Charisma-based.
Wind Walk (Sp) If a wendigo pins a grappled foe, it can attempt to wind walk with the target by using its spell-like ability—it automatically succeeds on all concentration checks made to use wind walk. If the victim fails to resist the spell, the wendigo hurtles into the sky with him. Each round, a victim can make a new DC 20 Will save to turn solid again, but at this point he falls if he cannot fly. Eventually, the wendigo strands the victim in some rural area, usually miles from where it began. A creature that wind walks with a wendigo is exposed to wendigo psychosis. The save DC is Charisma-based.
Any advice or warnings will be greatly appreciated.
I am preparing a set of upcoming encounters for my players to take place in an entrance to an ancient, hidden temple of Erastil beneath a fortress.
This temple houses wards and spells designed primarily to keep something very bad from escaping, but remains accessible to those who adhere to the faith and customs of Erastil.
That's the idea in any case.
To that end, I want to build a set of "trials", taking inspiration from "The Last Crusade's" set of challenges. The trouble I am having is coming up with a set of magical and mundane obstacles that test potential entrants' ability and willingness to follow "Erastil's Way"
Erastil is a Lawful Good deity of hunting, community, agriculture, and tradition. His faith, in general terms, espouses:
- Loyalty to friends, family, and the wider community
- Serving the needs of the many over the few
- Respecting the traditions, teachings, advice, and instructions of elders
- Embracing the responsibility and sanctity of family, marriage, and parent-hood
I already have an idea for one of the challenges, in which the characters are faced with safely crossing a trap-ridden room. The eldest of the characters, however, receives a vision of a stag, safely traversing the room while following a specific path. The challenge here is for the elder to take responsibility, and for the younger party members to place trust in their elder.
However, I am having trouble coming up with more challenges that align with a "test of the faithful" for Erastil's followers.
So now I turn to you, wise ones. How else may the Elk-Father test his flock?
The remaining Linnorm Kings: White Estrid, Ingrimundr The Unruly, and Opir Eight-fingers, all vie for greater power - and the jewel that is Kalsgard - with Freyr Darkwine caught in the middle.
After Sveinn's funeral, Ingrimundr and Opir ally, staging a coup that calls on all "true - hearted ulfen" to join their cause. In the confusion, Estrid's and Freyr's retinues die to the usurpers' axes. Estrid vanishes - some say escaped to regroup and fight, others that she is dead, still others believe she is shackled in the dungeons beneath Kalsgard, alongside Freyr Darkwine.
Kalsgard stands divided. Opir and Ingrimundr pressing their iron boots upon the many foreign dignitaries, travellers and merchants that call the city home. Even among the jarls and thanes that have joined the usurpers' cause, there is dissent and envy - with each lord vying for influence in the new order.
Disenfranchised jarls in Halgrim have likewise raised their axes for Ingrimundr, quashing the people of the Ironbound Islands, and chasing the Linnorm, Boiltongue, into the mountainous wilds of the Island. To maintain control, they have grudgingly allied with the nearby giant tribes, and now maintain an armada that prevents entry from or exit through the southern seas.
Among the smaller settlements, rebellion flares to life like forest fire roaring against a winter blizzard. Time and the gods will decide if they last against the forces of the usurpers.
To the East, The Hagreach reels. The Blackravens maintain control, but the folk living along the border with Irrisen are starting to panic in the absence of their stoic leader, as the nation of winter pours forth emboldened hordes of monsters, and watches the ensuing chaos with cold, calculating eyes.
Amidst this turmoil, a long dormant, cosmic evil stirs in its prison, as it sets forth a plan to both reclaim its freedom, and visit bloody vengeance upon the god who imprisoned it..."
This is a thought that has been bugging me, and I haven't been able to find a clear answer: Who takes power in a Linnorm Kingdom when a Linnorm King dies? There has been a case of hereditary power (resulting in the kingdoms being unprepared for the invasion of Baba Yaga), which the Linnorm Kingdoms now reject, so how does a region maintain stability after a ruler dies?
Does it maintain stability at all? Or does it fall to infighting amongst minor jarls and huskarls? Or does a neighbouring Linnorm King step in and add the vacated lands to their domain?
There are two possibilities I have come up with:
1) A lesser Jarl or lord acts as a "place-holder" until a new Linnorm King claims power (which seems to be what Freyr Darkwine is doing in Hagreach)
2) A preexisting Linnorm King takes control, either through conquest, or the will of the deceased ruler.
Granted, The Linnorm Kingdoms are a chaotic, barbaric region, so its entirely possible there is no one tradition that defines the transition of power. But this leads me to beg a larger question:
What would happen if King Sveinn Blood-eagle suddenly died of a heart-attack?
Kalsgard is a metropolis that connects Northern Avistan to Tian Xia, and is at least open to the possibility of trade rather than war with the southern lands, just as The Ironbound Islands are.
So who would take over Kalsgard in Sveinn's absence? And what are the consequences?
Would Sveinn's will name a successor among one of the still living Linnorm Kings? Would power fall to Sveinn's advisors and huskarls? Or would The Linnorm Kingdoms simply slide into a bloody civil war, with the victor vying for Kalsgard's enviable seat of power and influence?
