Kiana would like to find her lost clan, or at least another clan of her own kind. Beyond that, she is sort of lost in the world, pushing herself along by using her revenge.
Basically, if she didn't have revenge, she'd just be completely lost.
Inigo Montoya: Is very strange. I have been in the revenge business so long, now that it's over, I don't know what to do with the rest of my life.
Westley: Have you ever considered piracy? You'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts.
936. Healing Handprints Whenever you receive a healing spell or a paladin's Lay on Hands ability your skins shows the marks of hand prints as discoloration on your skin. The marks last for one round per point of damage healed. If Erase is cast on you before they fade then the healed damage re-accrues at one point per round of duration erased.
Get off my lawn, 90s Kid. I grew up in the 70s and...what was I talking about?....oh yeah, cartoons, that's right. Back then cartoons consisted of talking animals throwing dynamite at each other and pushing each other off of cliffs. That is when they were not hitting each other with massive, hard objects like anvils and oversize hammers. Violence was the order of the day, and we liked it.
Cartoons today are all about using reason and good judgment to solve problems, talking things out. Disgusting. Losing them is no great loss.
M Tiefling Magus Kensai 3 | Init +5 | HP 24/26 | AC 18 FF 12 T 17 | Saves +4/+3/+2 | Perception +5 | BAB +2 CMB +5 CMD +15
The hot bathwater is soothing to Tierney’s aches, even if it does rekindle the sting of his leg wound. In a disturbingly short time, the tub is sickeningly tainted by the effluvia that washed off Tierney’s skin. Even the scents that Talulah added to the bath are no longer detectable. But the important point to Tierney was that he was now clean. He reached out for a towel and was shocked at what his fingers grasped. Such softness he did not even know existed. For a moment, he was not even certain what to do with an extraordinary accoutrement.
In the end, however, he put the towel to its use and made his way to his room. Talulah had provided a robe. This too left Tierney out of sorts for a moment because he had never even contemplated that such attire would be needed by anyone. The baths that he had had, prior to today were Spartan, at best. One could grow used to such things he told himself.
Despite great fatigue, the magus poured over his grimoire before resting. The demands that the last days had placed on him were beyond his expectations, yet he surprised himself at what he had accomplished with his spellcraft. It bolstered his confidence in himself and convinced him that there are more heights to aspire to in his magic. Almost as if in answer to his increased ambitions, he studied a fire-spell that he had copied from the book of Provost Bonal. Understanding came through to him quickly now, if not exactly in an epiphany. This would have been wonderful to know when the centipedes closed on us he thought.
The elation of new magic to be wielded faded from his mind when he looked up from the book and saw the new sword that lay across his desk. Putting the book aside, he grasped the sword and unsheathed it. ”Death Blade” ; it has a name. He could not say how he knew this to be the sword’s name, however. He was not able to read the runes carved along its length. Had Razor told him? He could not remember. But he was unable to plumb the question because he then became aware of whispers at the edge of his hearing.
For long moments he strained his hearing in order to capture a coherent word. Even grasping the character of a voice speaking them would have sufficed. But the whispers eluded him. And it was only when the candle on the desk began to sputter that he realized how much time had passed in this effort. Yawning, he climbed into bed and immediately lost consciousness. No dreams troubled his sleep.
When Tierney woke he found that his hostess had placed a set of clothing on his chair and filled a cistern with water. Nothing else had been disturbed. Truly she thinks of everything. One thing surprised him greatly, though. When he looked for the sword he found it in its scabbard and beside held in his right hand.
M Tiefling Magus Kensai 3 | Init +5 | HP 24/26 | AC 18 FF 12 T 17 | Saves +4/+3/+2 | Perception +5 | BAB +2 CMB +5 CMD +15
A jet-black, rune-covered sword that whispers? Surely, nothing worrisome about that!
Tierney takes up the sword by its hilt and visually examines it. He lightly traces its cutting edge with his finger while mutterings arcane words to himself. Detect Magic In an almost theatrical way, he removes his stained gloves and licks one his fingers and touches it to the tip of the sword. A barely-perceptible spark confirms his suspicions. Then he stares hard at the sword and turns his ear to it as if he were listening to it.
Initially, the whispers startle Tierney and he reflexively holds the sword out from himself as if it were something to be thrown away. Unable to discern coherent speech in the whispered voices or can he?, the magus resolves to accept this peculiarity for now. His father had told him of weapons that thought on their own and the stories of their dangers. This would have to be mastered as well.
Tierney holds the Death Blade in his outstretched arm and measures its weight and balance. He is impressed by both as well as the keenness of its edge. After a few brief, slight hops on his injured leg he lunges forward into a thrust then brings his back foot forward and his front foot back as he whirls into a slashing maneuver. This leads into a series of dextrous fighting moves that last for several moments.
Tierney gives a smile of deep satisfaction when he finishes. Then he bends and retrieves Dur'kalak's scabbard. He sheaths Death Blade and then removes one of his wakizashis from his belt and puts Death Blade's scabbard is placed in its place. He then secures the extra weapon to his back. Now he looks exactly like his avatar.
Responding to Razor, he asks by way of a declaration "The hobgoblin did not surrender it willingly, I presume."
GM: If you want to retcon anything from the Detect Magic I would be happy to playing along.
Don't forget about the man-eating exotic constrictors that plague the whole region (not just Florida anymore): moron buys daughter a snake to stop the whining, little-miss-moron plays with the animal for a year or so before getting bored (a state of abuse in some households), little-miss-moron can't be asked to care for the pet, moron takes over offspring's duties until the expense or inconvenience kicks in, entire Moron clan drives the reptile to a swamp, Moron clan releases the foreign predator to the wilds, years pass, rural family's pets or cattle begin to disappear, rural family discovers Hound Serpent of the Baskervilles Morons--a fifteen foot long monster
Some moron dropped off a four-foot juvenile alligator in a park here in northern NJ. According to the newspaper article, the animal control team tried use a hot dog as bait to lure it out of storm drain. Apparently, even a reptile with a brain the size of a marble knows better than to eat a hot dog.
That may be the case in some respects, but not too long back there was a guy who spoke to various high school heads that games like D&D lead to gang formation and violence.
What is a party of adventurers but a violent gang? Maybe this guy is on to something.
My parents, while despairing at my taste in literature (Michael Moorcock, etc), were never bothered about it and didn't have a problem with D&D , either. My mother did make me throw my Black Sabbath albums away, though.
Were these albums with Ozzy or Dio singing? It makes a difference!
I played from the early-80s onward and never experienced anything of this kind. A nun in my cousin's Catholic junior high school saw a rule book and told him "real Christians don't believe in that", or something to that effect. That is the closest anyone I know came to this stuff.
M Tiefling Magus Kensai 3 | Init +5 | HP 24/26 | AC 18 FF 12 T 17 | Saves +4/+3/+2 | Perception +5 | BAB +2 CMB +5 CMD +15
Adir's question takes Tierney aback, his jaw drops for a moment and the shifter spots what looks like a second set of teeth in Tierney's mouth. After a few false starts, Tierney manages to reply.
"The destruction of Cyre, four years ago" he says clearly but somewhat slowly, as if in disbelief that someone would not know of it. "It is now a land of the dead, nothing survives there. No one knows what caused it or is certain of the form that the destruction took."
"The Mournland?" he asks as a prompt. "It is what ultimately brought the War to and end."
M Tiefling Magus Kensai 3 | Init +5 | HP 24/26 | AC 18 FF 12 T 17 | Saves +4/+3/+2 | Perception +5 | BAB +2 CMB +5 CMD +15
And now for something out of sequence:
Spoiler:
Sense Motive
1d20 ⇒ 14
Untrained Knowledge
1d20 ⇒ 5 Damn it! This guy is an Amway salesman!
"I am not certain what I will do there. I need to find work, that is the only thing I know" Tierney consciously does not lie but is careful not to say anything useful either. His father's instructions come back to him and guide his words. It is better to say nothing and let the other person fill in the holes in the conversation. Many will tip their hands that way.
"Do you work in Sharn?"
The tattoo is unfamiliar but Tierney suspects that the ink mark is not a Mark.
Tierney stops abruptly when he comes upon the woman and Uriah and seems to be taken somewhat aback. For a moment he seems slightly embarassed and a bit confused, as if unsure whether or not to say anything. Then he breaks the awkward pause.
"You are good at dice" he says to Uriah.
"And your blowing is good" he says to her. A second later his jaw drops and he stutters "Oh! Uh, that is not what I meant... I mean, what I meant was...um" and he trails off to silence.
M Tiefling Magus Kensai 3 | Init +5 | HP 24/26 | AC 18 FF 12 T 17 | Saves +4/+3/+2 | Perception +5 | BAB +2 CMB +5 CMD +15
Hi guys, this looks to be an interesting group forming here.
I am Bill and have been playing since 1980 or '81. It has been so long that I no longer remember. My introduction to the game was that my friends told me about it and had me roll up a magic-user. I looked at the spell list and chose invisibility as the spell that I wanted to cast.
They made me roll dice to see if it worked. We were about 10 or 11 years old and did not know what we were doing. Anyway, it worked so I stood there in a corridor, invisible and with no idea what to do next. The DM rolled for a wandering monster and it came up with an invisible stalker. The invisible stalker proceeded to kill my invisible wizard. I understood nothing about what just went on and have been hooked ever since.
Right now, I am on vacation with sporadic internet access. I will post when I can and look forward to a great game.
I would compare them with some RW religous figures and some fictional ones; not the ones who go to seminary are are apprenticed to the local pastor, but the people who are, for lack a of a better term, drafted by a god/god for whatever reason.
Two RW examples of this are Moses and Joan of Arc. A fictional pair of Oracles are the Blues Brothers, though they are duel classed bards.
The Blues Brothers also have vision, powers (how else does the car hold together?) and luck (hex like power?) and again, an "attracts law enforcement" curse.
But what all of these have in common is that they were "drafted", and what they are now becoming is drawn from that divine connection.
That journey, to me, is the essence of an Oracle.
Hope that was helpful,
Kerney
Any mention of the Blues Brothers is more than helpful.
They are two sinners recruited by god to do his work. Also, American cars made before 1974 were nigh-indestructible to begin with.
A real pit of doom must be at least 50 feet wide, half a mile deep, have no safety rails and be filled to no less than 6 feet of acid at the bottom to comply with the Villain's Lair Code of Construction. The acid-resistant sharks and/or alligators are optional.
This is not game-related nor was I involved. My brother told me that one of his friends got his jeep stuck in mud while driving off-road. The friend called my brother and some friends to help dig him out. After a great and messy effort the freed the jeep.
Afterward, they stopped at a convenience store to get drinks. This was late at night in a remote area and they were covered in dirt and mud. My brother saw that the clerk was giving them strange looks out of the corner of his eye. As a joke my brother muttered just loud enough to be heard by the clerk:
"They will never find that son-of-a-*****'s body.
Then they paid for their drinks and left.
A few miles down the road they were met by several police cars.
I figured the fist meant something like that. The one about the cow was not so obvious. Either American cows are smarter than Swedish ones or the latter are depressed by the long dark winters to the point of attempting suicide by walking on thin ice. It's a coin-toss, probably.
One of my high school teachers, who didn't think much of AC/DC, tried to convince us that Brian Johnson was actually Bon Scott reincarnated by the power of Satan.
He did not convince us.
I am morbidly curious to know what subject this guy taught.
Smoking, excessive drinking, drugs, bad behavior etc. have all been touched on already. The only things I can add are:
- Too much makeup
- Tanned to the point of being orange
- Laughing at her own jokes
- Complete ignorance of the world and complete indifference to how it got to be that way
Am I the only one here who thinks that six-pack abs look terrible on a woman?
This is shabby looking book features a stained brown cover and an unpleasant, acrid, smell. The majority of the book is taken up by Lord Percy's treatise on his attempt to find the secret of turning lead into green and thereby amassing limitless wealth. The text rambles and often seems to contradicts itself. An astute reader will realize that the vagaries of the commodities markets make all speculation into green futures a risky proposition, at best.
The last chapter of the book contains badly-composed love poems to a Lady Jane Harrington.
Consider the way that people defend monstrous things by claiming tha,t in their ideal forms, they are not evil. Many people claim that communism works if it is practiced 'right', never mind the tens of millions dead or living in misery under it. There are some who claim that gangs are not inherently malevolent, that only a few rogue members cast an undeserved shadow on the group as a whole. The recent KKK leader who shot three people at Kansas City Jewish centers was publicly renounced by other Klan groups who purport that they themselves are non-violent.
Terrorist groups in the real world have not trouble recruiting people who believe in their causes. Mafioso often dispense their largesse to gain the affection and loyalty of non-criminals who live in their areas. Many people are duped by simple acts of generosity.
Any of these approaches and many others could be practiced by followers of evil religions to gain followers.
Finally, the reason people worship evil deities is : The PCs need people to kill.
43. Egg Tree
At a bend in the road, the PCs see a small tree that appears to bear small, white fruit of an unfamiliar sort. When they get closer, the PCs see that what appear to be fruit are, in fact, eggs. After a few moments of observation, an egg drops to the ground and breaks open. A fully-grown bird shakes the shards from its wings and takes flight.
The only reason Conan is still alive is because he has fled in terror at the thought of the whupping he would receive from the Great American Hero AL BUNDY!
Yeah, yeah, Conan fought a bunch of commoners and first level warriors here and there blah, blah ...king by his own hand. So what?
Al Bundy scored four touchdowns for the Polk High Dots in ONE GAME! (Ask him and he will tell you about it).
He sold shoes to the hordes of infernal she-beasts.
Conan hunted down the slayers of his family and took bloody revenge? Bah! Al endured decades with a family of sniveling parasites and held his justified wrath in check.
Conan grew through pain and deprivation, battled sorcerers and demons? Try a day with Peg. Now imagine it "till death do you part".
Al weathered life's slings, arrows, outrageous fortune and living next to Marcy. He toppled all obstacles put before him and sat upon his throne (with his hand stuffed in his pants) even with an empty stomach, no coin and no will to live.
Al Bundy cannot be stopped by life. He cannot be stopped by some pansy Cimmeron in furry speedos.
Count me among those who hate Combat Expertise. It does not relate to the maneuvers that require it. I also do not think any combat feat should have a mental score prerequisite. Floyd Mayweather is a defensive genius but I bet he can't balance his own checkbook.
