"Well struck, Vandis". Anxallos twist round, looking for the hand that attacked him. He swings his scimitar awkwardly at it, missing badly.
(Attack roll was a 3. That misses)
Some of the hands (are there MORE?!?) scurry away, or at least the underbrush and leaves nearby rattle and rustle with movement. The remaining two "brave" hands scuttle towards the reluctant Anaxallos. Due to their awkward pace and forecasted movement, everyone will get a free attack against these unthinking foes.
Some of the other loogers have arrived, armed with shovels and other mundane items. In a moment, one of the loggers will attend to Cat-Face, unless one of the party members goes to Cat-Face first.
The winter wind is especially cold, but not that you mind, Vandis.
Sadly, it appears Cat-Face has succumbed to the vicious machinations of the bloodless hands having stangled him. He falls to the ground, looking keenly at each of you, and while a pale face, Cat-Face utters, "Why...?"
A new hand emerges from the earth, not four feet from where Cat-Face fell. The hand scurries to the corner of a nearby bush, and returns gripping and scurrying with a rusty knife.
Ware the evil squirrels...hmmm alright what's the spell cost of siccing the squirrels on the hands?
Alright, let's charge it as a spell of the first magnitude. I'll grant you line of sight (-1) and if you are willing to do something like shadow puppets (obvious gestures), I'll deduct another point. Heck, depending on how much role-playing you want to do, I'll let you shave your body hair since you are dealing with the unclean bloodless, for an additional -1. Target Difficulty was 10. For each Requirement, for a minimum of 2, subtract this from your Arcane Power. This spell will deal 1d6 damage to the four clawing hands.
So, anything I can affect with magic (not flashy stuff, just something utilitarian) because I'm assuming that the woodsman won't like magic-user? In order to affect something, I need a description of the area.
The general area is something similar to what most people might imagine as the great north-west mountains. Snow, trees, and some rock outcroppings, but beyond the small campfires of this makes-shift base of operations, the general scene is quite natural and vacant. I am quite alright should you wish to add a rampaging squirrel or something...this is okay, but just know that this region is designed as empty.
Great job! One of the Bloodless Hands is wounded, slicing off a digit. The vile demoic thing can now only count to "four" without additional aid. It will still press forward with an attack, you suspect...
A large, hairy hand erupts from the chilly ground. Its elongated and muddied digits grasp firmly around the heel- then climb upward to the leg- of Anxallos Tsengut!
The target number is 9, plus the Defense of 1 increases the difficulty to 10. The hand-creature has Agility 3 (it’s combat trait used here). Therefore, the Storyteller needs to roll 10-3=7 or better using two d6 to hit!
I roll: 8!
To inflict damage, the creature rolls 1d3+2. I roll. 2 rounded down, is 1. Plus 2, is 3. Subtract Anxallos Tsengut’s armor, so he suffers two points of damage from this hideous attack!
At this time, you ALL see four more smaller hands crawl up from the group. One leaps at Cat-Face and covers his mouth! (Remember, he was much smaller in stature…)
Cat-Face looks at you, surprised. "You know, they ALL lost their right hand. Huh. Never thought about how creepy THAT similarity was in light of the whole eerie and sad tale."
***
I elected to roll something for Vandis. He notices that the frosty ground covering is disturbed, and shares this fact with the group. "'Tis not much, but what manner of creature doth move is like a squirrel or rabbit, but more ungainly. Watch-out, men, methink I not want MY strong hand lost on this job!"
You see a hand, smaller than a fully grown man's hand, rise up and walk on its fingers to the group. It is about 5 feet away. While it is disturbing, it sickly seems playful in the way it "tiptoes" using its fingers to walk. The thumb carries with it a large leaf under which to "hide."
Note: This note also applies to anyone who made their perception roll...
Along the way to the gavesites, Cat-Face retells the sad story of the Dawncrest family. These poor workers were among the first loggers to report to the site, but even untrained eyes revealed the Dawncrests knew nothing of logging. Their father was strong, and a good healer when times needed him. The oldest boy worked hard, and often talked or yelled at his father...something of a rebel. The mother tended to take care of the children- her own young ones and the childrenof other loggers. She sang odd tunes on her weird instrument, and sang of the desert winds and emptiness, but they kids seemed to care about her kindness and music than lyrics.
The strange series of accidents happened in one day. The father felled a fine Urld tree near here, but the blasted thing fell down on him. Pinned, he cried for help. His sone appeared, and drawing his axe, struck his father and severed his daddy's arm- thereby freeing him from the tree's weight. A gifted healer himself, the father died from bloodloss on the way back to camp. The scent of blood on the frsty ground attracted some wild wolves, who beset the boy. He carried his father as best he could, but irony saw fit for the boy to lose his hand, too: a wolf gobbled the thing.
Upon hearing what had happened, the mother fell dead where she sat- craziest thing to have happened in this camp. Her oldest son, now bandaged and orphaned, stole away with his brothers and sisters into the night. While nobody knows what exactly happened, the camp largely believes the eldest son killed his siblings by drowning them- they were found dead and all had their hands cut off to mirror their father and brother. The boy was later found hanging from a tree- the result of a sad suicide, no doubt.
The camp buried the family near their old tentsite...
"Ach, to be whipped like a cur by the elements themselves!"
"Tis better they died in the way of work than suffered by starvation," says Cat-Face. "At least they were entitled to a proper burial 'neath ground, rather than as scrap for wolves. You can pay your respects to the master; they are buried just a few short steps near here..."
Cat-Face will take Vandis (and any others so inclined) to the gravesites of other fallen loggers.
"They are UNSEEN," cries the boy, falling to his knees. "I see through them..."
Players, please roll for perception, where I will ask you to add your Mind + Hunter careers and anything equally relevant to the out-of-doors (half-Barbarian careers, round up), including better senses, etc. against difficulty 11.
For example: Mind 1 + Hunter 2 + Barbarian 1 (1/2 is still 1, rounded-up) = 4. Target number = 11. 11 - 4 = 7. Roll 7 or better on two d6.
I MADE THE ROLL!
Spoiler:
You have a glimpse of what the boy saw! Tearing from the ground seems to be a hand! The thing crawls, but digs its way back into soil. The distance seems to be about 30' from your current location.
I FAILED THE ROLL, OR DID SOMETHING VERY BAD (CALAMITOUS FAILURE):
Spoiler:
Today is going to be terrible...packing-up the camp will be so difficult. At least your short-lived career as a logger was better than the Dawncrest family- the whole family died during several bizarre and repeated logging accidents.
***This thread was originally started in the Gamer Connection thread, but resumes here.***
Darkness falls amid the meager campfires, campfires that use very precious timber. The logging camp of Feathered Falls feels the presence of darkness like another visitor and witness to its miserable state. For three weeks, no successful ventures have brought forth more than a few cords of Urld wood, a rich black bark sought by sages and alchemists. Newly hired hands have vanished like the loggers whom they replaced. A few stronger or stubborn men have returned to camp- lacking their axes, any wood, and perhaps their minds. While the small camp can provide for its workforce indefinitely, the spirit of its people might dwindle faster than any sundry supplies.
Heavy rains pour down your necks. This close to the timberline, the cold water aches the your muscles and chills bone. However, the logging foreman asked that people gather near his tent for some news. August Steadfellow, a fellow logger, returned this morning and straightway visited his foreman. His story seemed too impossible to tell second-hand, so “Cat-Face,” your de facto leader, asked August to tell it to you himself.
“They walked,” starts August, a young lad of no more than eighteen years, and assumes that his captive audience knows who ‘they’ are. Your question is quickly answered: “Bones picked themselves up out of the ground and walked! There were too many of them. Aarrrgh! They probably followed me here. We’re doomed. We’ll never leave this camp alive, and we’ll be like th…them.” The young man appears visibly shaken, and his stammering stems more from fear than any cooler temperatures. As his speaks, he withdraws into himself, shielding his eyes with his elbows as if horrifically reliving the experience. Even the fires around the camp seem affected by his speech- the smoke swirls around August in weird patterns and seems to make odd shapes. August finally collapses to the ground, and Cat-Face places a blanket around the man.
“Well, that settles it. Camp Feathered Falls closes tomorrow. Everyone will go home. We can’t get the wood we need to fund this mission, so we have to return to wherever we call home,” says Cat-Face. The rugged and short foreman appears un-shaken by the story, but rather matter-of-fact in his business bravado.
You are left standing in the growing darkness, being cold, wet, and possibly unemployed.
Darkness falls amid the meager campfires, campfires that use very precious timber. The logging camp of Feathered Falls feels the presence of darkness like another visitor and witness to its miserable state. For three weeks, no successful ventures have brought forth more than a few cords of Urld wood, a rich black bark sought by sages and alchemists. Newly hired hands have vanished like the loggers whom they replaced. A few stronger or stubborn men have returned to camp- lacking their axes, any wood, and perhaps their minds. While the small camp can provide for its workforce indefinitely, the spirit of its people might dwindle faster than any sundry supplies.
Heavy rains pour down your necks. This close to the timberline, the cold water aches the your muscles and chills bone. However, the logging foreman asked that people gather near his tent for some news. August Steadfellow, a fellow logger, returned this morning and straightway visited his foreman. His story seemed too impossible to tell second-hand, so “Cat-Face,” your de facto leader, asked August to tell it to you himself.
“They walked,” starts August, a young lad of no more than eighteen years, and assumes that his captive audience knows who ‘they’ are. Your question is quickly answered: “Bones picked themselves up out of the ground and walked! There were too many of them. Aarrrgh! They probably followed me here. We’re doomed. We’ll never leave this camp alive, and we’ll be like th…them.” The young man appears visibly shaken, and his stammering stems more from fear than any cooler temperatures. As his speaks, he withdraws into himself, shielding his eyes with his elbows as if horrifically reliving the experience. Even the fires around the camp seem affected by his speech- the smoke swirls around August in weird patterns and seems to make odd shapes. August finally collapses to the ground, and Cat-Face places a blanket around the man.
“Well, that settles it. Camp Feathered Falls closes tomorrow. Everyone will go home. We can’t get the wood we need to fund this mission, so we have to return to wherever we call home,” says Cat-Face. The rugged and short foreman appears un-shaken by the story, but rather matter-of-fact in his business bravado.
You are left standing in the growing darkness, being cold, wet, and possibly unemployed.
What do YOU want to see in play?
a) Low-scale...the campsite is the main geographical area with smaller, individual threats
b) mid-scale...surrounding mountain area is in play, with larger obstacles/challenges/threats sometimes present, sometimes looming
c) large-scale...until you conquor the BBEG, not much of what you do will affect the enemies' evil plans, but it can be a workout. Large area of the map is effected by what is going to happen...
I wanted to give an example of how I hope to see dice rolls played on screen. Here is an example, and I am open to other suggestions for formatting it.
Example: Abdulamek the Assassin seeks to eliminate his chosen target- a common noble merchant. A VERY quick review of his character sheet shows us this information:
In preparation, the player informs the GM how carefully the assassin coated his fighting knife with Cathgan venom with hopes of dealing the killing blow. Because the character hails from Halakh, it seems reasonable that an assassin with poison immunity would do something as described.
Abdulamek is told he needs to roll a 9 or higher to score his hit. Because he uses his fighting knife, his trait grants him 3 six-sided dice (taking the results of the best two rolls). He reports the following information:
Abdulamek rolled a 1, 4, and 6. As GM, I allow him to add his Assassin career to the hit! The best two results make 10, plus 1 (plus any Strength score), thereby beating the Target Number. The wicked curved blade bites into the corrupt nobleman’s shoulder and venom drains…
Rolling for damage, Abdulamek again uses three dice (fighting knife). He rolls a 2, 4, and 3. The best two results make 7 (plus any Strength score), and then the GM will apply any other mitigating abilities the noble might have himself. Likely, the GM will make the noble roll against “Formidable” Strength, because of the debilitating poison used. I do not want to add the Assassin career as a bonus here, because an element of this career was already used above, and in obtaining the poison to kill the noble.
Note: If the player had planned the attack more vividly, perhaps taking time to utter a solemn prayer to his deity, I may have allowed him to add his Priest career, too!
Does this style work for everyone? I realize that I was more descriptive than may needs be, but I wanted to illustrate different thoughts that went into the attack and damage. Again, this is a brief example of play…Feedback is welcome, from the Paizo community as well as the players! Again, the example is just that- I didn't want to make two new characters to illustrate the points.
Vandis the Huntsman, you awaken from your light slumber with full stamina and steadfast resolve. The long trek across the foothills brought you to this camp weary, but now you know why you are here.
Vandis the Huntsman Spoiler:
Spoiler:
Fantastic dreams filled your mind while you have slept since leaving home. Yrzlak the Godsmith visited images into your mind. Alongside his massive, blue, sinewy frame, you two destroyed many vile beasts that you recognize…some you do not know. With your superb blade, you rent a sluggish Winter Worm, felled a Snow Man, and brought light into darkness as a beacon across the land. For some unknown reason, the god Yrzlak appears to favor you, and his smile grants you the following benefit(s): +1 Lifeblood after resting and having a dream sent by Yrzlak, +1 heat-based damage against creatures of the snows, and roll an extra die whenever issues arise about travels (i.e.: being lost, finding North, etc.). The fire that burns in your chest must be the home forge of the Godsmith…now you must ask yourself why he favors you, Valgardian warrior! The most recent vision today showed a large Andrak prowling the land, and taking with it a small boy ("Cat-Face's" son?) from this encampment near nightfall...tonight!
Anxallos Tsengut, you suddenly want to double-check a pocket- the sight of some of these ruffians reminds you that you are far from home...which might actually be a good thing.
Anxallos Tsengut Spolier:
Spoiler:
Inside a pocket, you feel the tell-tale textures of a well-drawn map. Your connections to the Thieves' Guild, and the black markets, allowed you to quickly procure this item shortly before you left Malakut. The map shows the location of Jesharek's Tower in th Axos Mountain foothills, near this very campsite. Wrapped within the map, you have a forged message to the wizard Jesharek from a member of the Yellow Druids. This message would sorely implicate Jesharek in sinister plots against the city, many of which you have had first-hand knowledge of their authenticity. Because the message lso bears the bruned seal of the Yellow Druids, youthinks it best not to share this secret openly with others...until the time is right to secure your freedom and return to Malakut.
Nax S'virlu, you have been carrying your gear for awhile. When you sit down and look through your stuff (which is approved), you gleefully recall something...
Nax S'virlu Spolier:
Spoiler:
You have a journal from your recent rival, Dax Wilt, whom you recently dispatched for his arrogance. Imagine! HE thought he could lure clients to him, when YOU knew the same "medicines." Your medicines always promised return business, though...I Dax Wilt's journal you stole from his limp body, you have uncovered great notes about Snow Worms' "sleeping mists." It appears the late charlatan thought he could help numb people in pain by extracting and distilling the mist. His notes are good enough for you to add +1 to any such alchemical attempts yourself, and you gain an extra die when dealing with snow worms. Maybe your counter-part wasn't such a waste afterall...
Note to All Players:
Good evening, and welcome to an original adventure: “Frostburn.” To date, we have three players and myself as Game Master (GM). We may add/subtract more players as interest and time permits. I wanted to outline some of my expectations, and please comment and add your ideas.
1 Players have lives outside of role-playing, yet a play-by-post requires some commitment level. Therefore, I suggest the compromise might be for everyone to post at least once every weekday (on average), and at least once on Saturday/Sunday. I am willing to re-visit this guideline.
2 Players and I want to have fun, and assume a measure of mutual trust. Because all dice rolls use d6, we can simply post the results of any roll without having to resort to third-party audits of dice rolls. However, if anyone is in doubt as to how many dice they need to roll or if they earn any other bonuses, please feel free to post this question to either myself or to the group.
3 We have to be mature with what we say, but please feel free to use a narrative flair to your actions or descriptions, since this seems to be the heart of the game. We play barbarians, but need not be barbarians ourselves.
4 Other suggestions are welcome.
Our characters are:
Anxallos Tsengut,
Nax S'virlu,
and FabesMinis, I need a character name for your pre-generated barbarian, please.
The characters have assembled in a small logging camp nicknamed “Feathered Falls;” surprisingly, no tress have been felled in weeks! The camp has simple items most adventuring characters need. The foreman, “Cat-Face” Deuce, appears to be a strong albeit it short-in-stature de facto leader in the camp. He is one of the only people willing to talk to characters at this moment…
Possible reasons why YOUR character visits Feathered Falls:
* Elude persons’ “misunderstanding” of your or your most recent situation(s);
* Heard that an alchemist will pay a sizable sum of wealth for large supplies of Urld trees;
* Nature draws you forth, and rumors of a roaming, man-eating Andrak peak your curiosity.
* Other rumors can be uncovered. I would be willing to spoiler-share these rumors on successful rolls. Remember, the Target Number is 9 or better on two d6, and some characters are eligible for a bonus, if they recognize it…
I thought we could try starting this adventure whenever you are ready. ...
