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Still mulling the extortion over, though probably tried to threaten the wrong people. Im thinking it could be fun if he is convicted of a crime he didnt even actually commit, even if he is deserving in general. As for Gregor, the go to would be that he flew away when Bastian was caught and has followed him since at a distance, though I dont know how allowed that is. I mean they would be back together again right away if the cell has a window.
While DM clarification is pretty final on the matter, Id just like to get in my reasoning anyway. Since nowhere does it specifically mention gaining the bloodline arcana, that means that you do not gain the bloodline arcana. It doesnt, it does however simply say you choose a bloodline. Thats it. Not a bloodline with no class skill or a bloodline with no arcana. Just a bloodline. It then goes on to describe all the changes that are made to the bloodline, none of which reference skills or arcana. Thats my take anyway. Now back to our regularly scheduled program.
Arcana is separate from the bloodline? Seriously?
Ok, so I looked up Virtual Multi-classing earlier, wanted to get back to it and make a final decision. Surprised to find no matter what I try searching, I cant find the info again. Anyone mind hooking me up with a link? EDIT: Ok, found it myself. VMC Sorcerer does not gain bloodline arcana. While you do gain powers at a delayed pace, I dont see anything which seems to indicate this is the case
Woops: Probably gonna go with Sorcerer or Summoner for VMC.
Does the Sorcerer get their bloodline arcana at level 1? I might have put that in after submitting, not sure, but Background skills are Appraise and Craft(Alchemy) Totally spaced on the Familiar/pet bit in recruitment, lol. This should be interesting. EDIT: Just went over the other spoilers because im nosy and for some reason enjoy reading the character creation back and forth between player and DM. One of them you mention 2 background skills, but then also "2 extra"? Did I miss that as well?
Submitting Bastian here for consideration. Still need to write out the specifics of his extortion sentence, and I probably missed something so feel free to ask questions.
How about that, small world huh? Holla back at ya!
Just showing lifesigns here, a bit distracted lately. Ill see about getting through all the posts you guys have churned out and getting in on the action again.
Carbon-based life disgusts her Well, now youve gone and made Kray sad :/
Well im having fun so I guess its going well so far :) I will say, things like the pizza monster, for me personally, need to not happen too often. Im all for silly, in the correct doses. Im neutral on battlemap. If you want to put in the work im all for it, but I dont feel like its needed. Atleast not in the fights weve had so far, but ofc that might change.
"Just once id like to escape through some tunnel or hatch without running into some kind of freakish forgotten monster in the process." Kray spat as he hauled himself into the room, dropping to the ground and just lying there, breathing heavily. It was of course major hyperbole, but something similar had happened atleast three times before. "I need a drink." He sighed again.
DoTs in a game like this are something that you really have to handle on a case by case and character by character. I mean robots and Rotgut on fire arent THAT severe unless it goes on for a little while, but if someone set Kray on fire hed have mere moments before he would be dead. Fire is also an entirely different beast to say, acid or bleeding and what have you. Id personally suggest dots dealing damage when the GM posts a general update for everyone, since that happens a regular intervals without being too often.
Cursing loudly, Kray dove for cover for the umpteenth time this day.
His metabolism working on overdrive, ragged breath, fast beating heart and enough adrenaline to kill a small animal, Kray was getting drunker by the moment. As he made to combat roll, he slipped, the roll becoming clumsy. Still it worked well enough. "We need to help Sona!" He called to Jamee, accepting the ride with one hand while pulling his medical kit out with the other. "Theres a flame blanket in here, we put her out, then we go!" He called, gesturing for Jamee to steer them towards their burning companion.
Not trying to be whiny here, but Kray had to use a modification from his Wielder specialization to be able to use his shotgun in melee. If that functionality is standard for firearms id like to choose something else.
Just barely managing to spot the garbage ball as it came flying towards him, Kray braced for a slimy impact of pizza debris. What he got instead of a face full of camouflaged scrap. "Ooof!!"
Holding a hand to his injury whilst scraping pizza sludge off his suit with his shotgun, he managed to see the second blob coming. Raising his shotgun, he fired into the blob.
As the blob shattered in a hail of shotgun shrapnel, he continued to fire, sending blast after blast of scattershot into the things bulk.
Entering the room with the others, Kray was vigorously swigging away on his newly acquired bottle, oblivious to the creatures presence for the first many long moments. Coming up for air, having already emptied half the bottle, he squinted at the monstrocity. "Woah...Thats new." He mumbled. While the quick consumption had impaired his motor skills a little, he was quite certain he wasnt drunk yet thought, so he stood there another few moments wondering if he had somehow been poisoned. Then a bit of debris whizzed past his head. Feeling the wind of its passing, he jolted into action, pulling out his shotgun again while shouting. "Wat the hell, its real?!?!" Sizing up the creature and its composition, he pumped his shotgun until all the shells had left the chamber, then started filling it with buckshot instead. "TIme to get messy." Not hearing any plans from the others, everyone doing their own thing, he intended to try to buy time for whatever they were doing. Firing repeatedly, he shouted at the creature, trying to draw its attention away.
Moving along with the others, now that the excitement had died down somewhat, Kray was once again painfully aware of his alcoholic woes. Coming down from an adrenaline high wasnt helping any either. In the confusion, he had yet to notice what BunkR was carrying around, but as he thought what he would give for a swig of something, the clinking sound of bottles pierced through the background noise of clanking feet and grunting ogres. "BunkR, you shouldnt have." He said with a sudden new vigor to his voice, moving to walk alongside the killer robot. With delicate fingers, he pushed and prodded at the bottles, moving them to get a look at their labels. "Hmm, nope....no....hell no....Oh hello!" He said, before scooping a slender bottle from BunkRs grasp. "Youre a lifesaver. Cheers."
Running up on Rotgut, Kray waited to dodge one of the ogres wild backswings, before diving inside his reach to get near his head. "Gotta go big guy, any moment theres gonna be someone here you cant beat with a club. Like on Rygon, remember?" He gave his hulking companion a serious stare as he himself recalled the sorry state Rotgut had been in after that particular encounter. Looking about at the carnage he quickly bolted back into the shop, trusting that Rotgut had gotten the message. "Coming through." He said as he dove past BoT, pausing at the edge of the doorway to get his bearings. "Oh this will do nicely, good work." He said before following Sona.
Hearing the distinct brand of horrified screaming he had come to associate with Rotgut, Kray bounced back on his feet, grunting and holding a hand to his back as he did so. "Ill got help out meathead, make sure he doesnt get himself killed somehow." He said, bolting out of the door, his hands working quickly as he loaded more shells. Coming out into the open, he tried to spot Rotgut, all the while ready to lay fire into anyone who looked at him the wrong way.
Rolling from side to side, blocking as best he could with his shotgun, Kray grimaced as another hit impacted against his forearm. "Ive had it up to here lady!" He grunted as he deflected another wild swing. "Im too tired and too sober to be dealing with this crap!" He added, before pumping the solitary shell inside the shotgun and blasting her square in the face.
Grunting and crying out in pain, Kray cursed his luck as the minotaur had targeted him in the confusion. While the skintight body armor he wore underneath his street clothes had stopped the blade from going straight through him, the force of the impact was too much for even the kinetic countermeasures to handle. He could have sworn he felt something crack in his spine.
Rolling onto his back, he saw the blade descending again, and kept rolling. As his momentum carried him back onto his back, he slammed the shotgun into the minotaurs groin.
However to his dismay, the impact brought with it the metallic tinking sound of a standard issue codpiece. "Figures." He thought. Still, judging by the minotaurs reaction, it hadnt been enough.
"How do you like me now, huh!?" Kray shouted, pumping and firing his shotgun a few more times. There was something awfully satisfying about killing people when they were practically asking for it. Kray didnt fancy himself a bad person as such, but if he had to point at something, excluding the drinking and drugging and whoring ofcourse. Well it would be the glee with which he sometimes found himself in the middle of combat. Considering how he had started down the path he was on now, his conduct in combat was fairly strange. Shrinks said it was something about proving he wasnt a coward. Squinting through the smoke oozing from the barrel of his gun, he had a single solitary second of realization before everything outside the shop turning into flashing weapons and charging bovines. "Oh for fu.." Was all he managed as the weapons fire tore into everything around him, his luck affording him the chance to dive for cover before being torn to shreds. "Good thing these knuckleheads lead their fire instead of aiming." He thought as he slammed into the floor shoulders first, letting the momentum carry him into a roll for cover.
Rolling onto his back, he looked around in a daze, his vision suddenly blurred. Was it the fall? No, it was the lack of something to drink, and the consequences couldn't have come at a worse time. He was suddenly painfully aware of his age. Body aching, he crawled through shattered glass and furniture, getting into a position to fire back.'
"Clean...out...the...shop...I...got...this!!" He yelled, between bursts from his shotgun, before being met with a hollow click as he squeezed the trigger again. "Sonufa!?" He cursed, reaching into his pockets for more shells, his shaking hands making reloading painfully slow.
Catching the tail end of Jamees colorful speech to the minotaurs, Kray just barely managed to turn around and roll away from his table before it was flattened in the stampede. Looking at BoT with a bemused look, he quickly turned his attention back to the ones outside. "I can live? Hah, fat chance, dont lie to me you muscle headed idiot!" He called back, unsure if the goblin even heard him over his own yelling at the minotaurs. "Team 7? Awfully official sounding for mobster thugs." He thought, before sending a fusillade of shells through the minotaur shaped hole in the storefront.
"Uhm, is this a bad time to mention I may have some, lets say...Complicated baggage in this city?" Kray said, peeking over the edge of the table he had flipped over for cover the moment the goblins voice had drifted into the shop. "I had sort of hoped the guy I pissed off would have met his end by now, but seems he beat all the competition." Kray fumbled with his shotgun, unfolding it from the nonthreatening square shape he usually carried it around in. "Now ive been gone from this place for a while, but I doubt this guys become any nicer with age." He cursed loudly as one of his shells escaped his grasp, rolling along the floor. He reached for another, loading it into his gun. Cocking the shotgun, he peered around the table at the assembled men outside, looking at the large goblin in particular. "Dullstick is that you? Long time no see." Kray didnt remember much from back then, but he had seen the large goblin many times at the assorted establishments he had frequented. "No hard feelings about the ear, and the shoulder and uh...Well no hard feelings right?" The goblin had given Kray trouble on his way out those many years ago, earning him several shells from Krays gun. Truth be told, the only reason the ugly bastard was still alive was because Kray had thought him an alright guy. For a goblin.
Well, I try.
Strolling through the market with the others, Kray was slowly growing tired. The coffee boost had started to wear off, replaced by a sobering hangover. That wasnt the bad part though, he knew how to deal with hangovers. No, the problem was the withdrawal which was slowly setting in, and he had forgotten his flask in his hurry to catch up to the others. "How the hell do I steer us into a bar?" He wondered, holding a shaking hand to his sweaty temple. "Ach, why do markets have to be so loud!?" He added as his head throbbed. "Welcome to Shan City, where everything that can be sought, can be bought." A sensual womans voice said, following a soft announcement ping. Kray looked up to see the giant hologram of a scantily clad woman, the sound was emanating from. The hologram kept talking, rattling off points of interest and great deals in this district of the city. But Kray wasnt hearing any of it. "Shan City...Shan City???...Shan City!?!?!" He thought, suddenly looking around him with a mad paranoid stare. His eyes flicked from one random passerby to the next, seeing suspicious behavior and impending ambushes where there were none. Ofcourse they had to land here the one time he hadnt paid attention to their destination. And he had used his regular ID! "Follow me!" He announced to the others, striding to the front of the group and almost immediately turning into the first restaurant he saw, a Talaskan kebab place of sorts. "Grellick you lousy midget!" He thought as he recalled their encounter some 15 years prior. Had it really been that long? ... Fresh out of the military with nothing but his gun, military grade leg prosthetics and a destructive cocktail of alcoholism and PTSD to his name, he had failed to find any purpose to his continued existence. Having been dropped off in Shan City, he had remained there, spending the next several months squandering what money he had on alcohol, gambling and other unsavory vices. Even back then Grellicks criminal empire had been on the rise, the greedy goblin having his fingers in everything outside the law. It wasnt long after Krays last credit was spent before he had managed to accrue a sizable debt in several of Grellicks businesses. Back then, the goblin still handled his business in person when someone crossed him, and with what Kray owed, he had the unpleasant honor of a private audience. Having everyone running scared at the mere mention of his name, Grellick had grown far more confident that was good for him, and he cornered Kray in one of his casinos with his goons. Noone was dumb enough to try anything, he owned this district and had plans for the whole city. But even with several months in the city, Kray hadnt managed to learn anything about who he was dealing with. Intoxicated as usual, with the inflated ego and bravado that came with it, Kray escalated things to a deadly standoff in moments, drawing his shotgun and threatening to blow Grellick away if his goons didnt drop their weapons. Grellick had complied, his men disarming themselves. But Grellick wasnt about to let him get away with this, who did he think he was!? Continuing his talk with Kray, he lulled Kray into a false sense of security as he slowly reached for his hidden pistol. Grellick was fast on the pull, it was what had gotten him his start in the underbelly of Shan city, before he had men to do his work for him. But he had underestimated just how on edge Kray was, underestimated just how focused he was despite his intoxicated state. The shot intended for Krays head had hit his shoulder instead, Grellicks aim ruined by his arm exploding at the elbow as a high caliber shell tore through it. Those who reached for their discarded weapons had suffered similar fates as Kray made his escape in a mad hail of lead. Grellick had put a bounty on Kray, but noone had ever come to collect. ... Shaking the memories from his head, Kray looked at the others. "So, what say we just eat here, handle our affairs and get moving eh?" He said with a shaky smile. "We wanna be out there getting paid as soon as possible, right?"
Well thats the thing. Simply putting [.*] in front of a line (without the punctuation mark ofc) works, here in the discussion thread. It does not on my profile page. On the profile page it simply becomes: One Two With no dots.
For some reason, the [.*] function doesnt work when I try to use it on my profile page. Anyone know what the deal with that is? It works just fine here, like so:
How heavy armor does Kray start with? Ive just put 2 so far.
As far as I can tell, a Sharpshooter/Slayer/Oracle cant actually cast any spells, since the casting component comes from the Disciple archetype, not the specialy. Currently going with Armiger/Wielder/Embodiment Wielder so Kray can have a shotgun he can bash people over the head with in melee (Perfectly weighted(Precise), Grizzly(+1 Damage), Sharp or spiked(Piercing +2) and Versatile(Choose an additional range)) Ive selected the Special Power that adds another 2 enhancement, and human Wielders get another, for a total of 4. This gives Kray his shotgun with armor piercing shells, which is also crafted to be easily swung as a melee weapon. Armiger I chose because I want Kray to be fairly tough, but the way his stats ended up looking, his constitution wasnt particularly impressive. But I also wanted him to not be trundling around in a giant suit of armor. Im hoping to play Krays armor as being lighter than the stats on it, to depict his "stubborn old mule" persona. So though he may be wearing something fairly big and heavy, rules wise, visually and fluffwise its alot lighter. For the third Warrior specialty, I was looking at Slayer as suggested, but didnt quite like the way the healing worked, so looked elsewhere. The healing mechanic of the Embodiment fits very well. The consequences of a 7-9 roll are easy to fluff for a medic, the "Spellcasting is obvious and draws attention to yourself" in particular, since a dude fiddling with bandages tends to do that in combat. Most of the time I would choose that and the "has other effects" choices, but will be choosing the "cannot cast again until you rest" option occasionally to simulate being out of bandages and what not. Picking Embodiment also has the added "benefit" of reducing his damage dice to a d8, which just seems more fitting somehow. Btw, do you get all the racial addons for your specialties, or do you have to choose just one?
Finally sitting down to look at building Kray, and it seems theres ALOT of options here. Anyone well versed enough in Class Warfare to be able to point me to a Specialty that can heal, but isnt based on spellcasting? Or can tell me if such a thing doesnt exist.
So Sona, do you do coding or something irl? All those code strings youve been spitting out in your posts seems terribly authentic :) Not that I know anything about such things though.
Offering a pleasant smile, Kray motioned for the others to go first, then shook Singhs hand and patted him on the shoulder. "Really? The war? Well ill be sure to tell him, he probably has a few stories to tell about you then." He grinned, then followed the others, a wave and "I will, take care." His parting gesture to the officer. He had barely turned to follow the others before his pleasant mask dropped from his face, replaced by a concerned scowl. Walking fast to catch up, he grabbed Sonas arm, pulling her close to have a word as they continued to walk. "Who the hell is Lestrade and why did he think im his son?" He looked up at Rotgut as he inquired about pizza, replying with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Theres bound to be plenty around here, just have to look. Use that nose of yours, its as powerful as a Drasslith Plain Hounds isnt it?"
"Jamee, I know youre a shut in but I thought I could trust you to handle this while I got my coffee." Bastian scolded at BoT. His face turned away from the customs officer, he spared a wink at the robot, not that he thought Jamee wouldnt realize he was lying through his teeth. Turning back to the officer, he gave an apologetic look. "He was supposed to handle things in my absence, but seems he allowed the robots and bonehead here to run their collective mouths and voice boxes." He leaned in close, whispering. "Kids got some serious confidence issues, thought id give him a chance." Straightening back up, he put on a serious expression. "So officer, everything in order?"
"Hold up!" Bastian called out, striding towards the group. As he neared them, he gulped down the last bits of the rather large coffee he was carrying, tossing the cup in a nearby trash deposit. Pushing his way past the assorted metal and muscle arranged before the customs officer, he combed his hair back with his hand and fiddled momentarily with the collar of his shirt in a failed attempt to look presentable. "These units are with me, Bastian Kray." He pulled out his ID. "Big and huggable here is also with me. Im responsible for him, but theres no real reason to worry, he looks meaner than he is." He put away his ID, busying his hands with showing his shirt into his pants. "Purpose of the visit is supplies, repairs and unit calibration. He put a hand on Sonas shoulder, lightly patting it. "This one in particular needs some work, been spitting out old data in response to inquiry. Not sure what shes been telling you but its likely wrong." He smiled a charming smile, one of the things he did well. It had gotten him through similar situations before. Somehow people generally found the aging man likeable. Standard stuff...Oh and pizza."
Im dealing with stuff right now, and as amazing as it sounds (to myself) as im writing this, I just dont have the drive to properly ready my character and jump in. I realized it when I went to check and saw no less than 45 new discussion entries! So atleast for the next few days or longer, I wont be able to devote the energy to get rolling with you guys. Whether that means Kray will be passed out in his room until I can, I leave that to you.
Are we allowed to build? I thought I saw a no to that earlier.
Kray had grown quite accustomed to Rotguts behavior, and honestly quite fond of the brute. Still, he never quite managed to grow accustomed to the way hunger affected him. Taking point blank fire from a prone opponent, the ogre decided to ignore him, finding cover instead of smearing the offending soldier across the floor. Kray shrugged as the surprise faded "Ofcourse he would do that." He was about to make some remark to the lumbering warrior when the unmistakable sound of a rolling grenade reached him. The sound of the pin hand preceded it right before it started rolling, so he knew whoever had tossed it didn't let the thing cook first. "Rookie mistake." He thought, before reaching out with his shotgun and batting the grenade down the hallway towards the guy Rotgut had left on the floor.
Stopping in surprise, Kray took one look at the detonator, realized what it was and pumped off a few shells. He aimed for the hand, knowing the detonator would get destroyed with it if he hit his mark.
Cursing loudly as another lurching of the ship caused his shot to go wide, ricocheting down the hall, he dove through the nearest door for cover. "Get em big guy!" He yelled at the ogre, hoping his dimwitted companion would keep their attention. Sticking his shotgun around the corner, he pulled the trigger repeatedly, hoping to stop the enemy advance.
"Again!?" Kray replied into the coms, rubbing his temple again, this time due to his astonishment at what he had just heard. "What is it about this heap of scrap that attracts these vultures, cant they see we dont have anything worth taking?" Not waiting for a reply, he stomped to his small personal workbench. Looking it over quickly, he scooped a few choice items into his large pant pockets, then picked up his shotgun and threw a belt of shells over one shoulder. Finally, he looked at himself in his small mirror, shaking his head at what he saw. "Might scare em off with my dashing good looks." He said to himself, lighting a half smoked cigar and chewing on it a few times. Another rattling of the hull and the not too distant sounds of weapons fire reminded him to get a move on, and he bolted out into the hallway, loading armor piercing shells into his weapon "Boarders, so probably armored, better use something that makes a big hole." Bastian preferred ballistic weapons to lasers. True, sometimes they jammed, and there were plenty of things lasers were better at, but there was something immensely satisfying about seeing some punks strolling around in laser resistant gear and the surprised look on his face when it completely failed to protect him from receiving a gaping new chest cavity. The good honest bucking in his hands when he fired and the ease of use were just an added bonus.
As the ship lurched from another explosion, Bastians quarters rattled again, the sound a mixture of groaning bulkheads and the clattering choir of a multitude of empty bottles. Passed out drunk as usual, he was starting to slowly come to, the peaceful void of drunken sleep slowly giving way to nightmares. It was happening again! He felt his heart in his throat, his breath ragged as he huddled behind whatever scrap of cover he could find. Around him everything was dark, the blackness of the night sky flickering with the light of weapons fire, like some surreal and deadly rave. He clutched his rifle tightly, its deadly potential his only solace as he sat alone in the mud. All around him were the screams of the dying, most of them distant but some so close he was tempted to cover his ears. He looked down at his medics satchel sat in front of him, the logo on it taunting him. His tears ran more freely as he stared at it, confronted with the duty he had run from, which he was even now neglecting. The distant panicked calls for a medic rang clearer than any other sound, growing louder until they drowned out everything else. Then it happened, as it always did. Everything exploded into a rolling red inferno of fire and smoke, throwing him through the air, a trail of blood following him as he arched though the night sky. Hitting the ground hard, he barely held onto consciousness. Looking around in a haze, he tried to obey his instincts which screamed for him to run, but somehow his attempts to move only resulted in feeble crawling. Rolling onto his back he looked down, seeing the cause of his failure to stand. Two bloodied stumps stared back at him, one slightly longer than the other, but both mangled beyond any hope of recovery. With an anguished roar he flew out of his bed, punching wildly at the air and losing his balance. Flailing wildly, he grabbed a shelf, tearing it with him as he fell, landing hard on the floor in a shower of bottles and whatever else he had stored on the shelf. Groaning, he rolled onto his back. Looking down, his blurry vision focused on his legs. For a moment, he saw an after image from his dream, bloodied stumps, before reality cemented itself and replaced them with his robotic prosthetics. "Ugh, I need a drink." He groaned, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back onto the floor. He lay there a moment in silence, about to drift back to sleep when his cabin was once more rattled by an impact on the outer hull. "Wha? Whats going on?" He mumbled, getting shakily to his feet and shambling towards the intercom. "Hey, captain, whats going on? Not taking another shortcut through an asteroid field are you?" He half yelled, an accusing tone to his voice as he remembered that particular incident. The volume of his own voice caused him to wince and rub his temple with a groan.
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