Brother Faust the Elder's page

After dipping my toes into Fallout 76 during the PC phase of the B.E.T.A., I splurged my birthday monies at the beginning of November on (a) a full copy of same; and (b) a pile of Creation Club content for Fallout 4.

Previously I'd logged ~1,200 hours on un-modded FO4. Did all four vanilla endings, rampaged through Nuka-World - which is a Hell of a lot of fun - and whomped robotic buttocks in Automatron. I've yet to tie off the 9 Steam achievements I'm short ... and I don't care enough to bother.

'76 has Survival mode baked into its mash-up of New Vegas and FO4. Along with CND (condition) and most of FO4's survival mechanics baked into its multiplayer-oriented PvP/PvE format, it seems likely that I'll be waiting the year-plus it will take Bethesda to (a) properly patch and update '76 into something playable; (b) let their modders loose; and (c) let me play a purely PvE experience.

In addition to FO4's Creation Club content I spent about 300 further hours tinkering around with an assortment of Bethesda.net mods for FO4 before settling on a game start tweaked to my satisfaction.

All told this run starts after 1500 hours of previous play. I'm not in this for Serious Survival Business (that'll be FO76 at some point, if it survives that long). This is for fun ... with the objective re: Commonwealth of obtaining the elusive "fifth ending" (nuke Institute, Minutemen/BoS/Railroad *not* shooting each other in the streets because reasons). This is the playthrough I'll finally head to Far Harbor.

Eventually. I plan to mop up as much of the side quests as possible prior to entering Diamond City and picking up the main story via Nick Valentine. Ideally I'll have the settlements of the Commonwealth already up and running (with the exceptions of Sanctuary and the northwestern Red Rocket) before stepping foot therein.

This means avoiding Diamond City, Red Rocket NW, Concord, Vault 88 and Automatron (by way of it's vicinity to a certain electronics store) and by extension the Creation Club Anti-Material Rifle and the Black Devil power armor suit for as long as possible. Similarly Vault 81 and the settlements themselves (at least the occupied ones) are going to be avoided like the Black Plague for as long as absolutely possible.

This will not be some absurd FO4 Survival run. This will not involve my playing fair with the NPCs and monsters because those wall-ignoring door-glitching stuff-yoinking bastiches don't return the favor. I've done all of the Companion unlocks at least once. Hit 200th+ level four times already.

Also, once you see some of the mods, you might appreciate why. The mobs will be packing some serious firepower very, very soon.

This time I'm frontloading my perks and player.modav via console to suit the concept of this Sole Survivor. ALL of the Companion perks previously earned - consoled those puppies in out of the gate. "Achievements" (magazines, most of them), non-SPECIAL bobbleheads, lots of goodies simply consoled right on in.

In return I have to suck it up and gobble up XP to acquire the levels.

Pro-tip: Do NOT begin a modded game until after you acquire the Pip-Boy and open Vault 111's exit all the way. Fire up your mods once the way is clear to leave. Otherwise there's a good chance the mods will gum up the exit gears and you're pretty pooched. If you don't want to bugger around with getting mauled half to death by radroaches, console tgm until then, then console that back off before getting down to the fun stuff.

Project Valkyrie

"Nora" is but an alias along the same vein as what we would identify as Witness Protection. In her previous life the woman now identifying as Valkyrie was a genetically engineered pedigree. "The perfect human", enhanced with not only genome engineering but prototype "nano biological" engineering as part of Project Valkyrie under one of the Defense Experimental Research Project Initiative's "Black Hole Projects".

Valkyrie spent 20 years spanning 2052 through 2072 in service to Uncle Sam's less ethically constrained "HUMINT" operations before retiring, in no small part due to having acquired sufficient "politically compromising" material on a fair number of influential types an awfully long way up the food chain. She spent as much time "acquiring" TSCI [color spectrum] as she did performing copious amounts of wetwork in the process. In combination with retired combat veteran Nate's own clout on the public front the powers-that-be agreed that their service to country was concluded, pending drastic needs arising to the contrary.

Cosmetic surgery was a finely-honed art as was subliminal "training". Learning Chinese and Russian customs and languages in combination with superficial alterations of her facial structure and whatnot made her able to "Special Agent Woman" time and again. 10 different operations into Communist Russia and China. The poor bastards never saw the same agent twice.

She earned her Juris Doctor in Commonwealth law after retiring (taking her time doing so - a mere four years) before she met Nate, fell in love and slowly began to bury the remnants of her retired life. In 2076 she and Nate managed something she'd previously never thought possible: have a child of their own, a little boy named after Nate's grandfather Shaun.

Her entire body is infused at the molecular level with [insert pseudo-scientific gobbledegook here]. She's a Sixty Billion Dollar Woman. God have mercy on those who mess with her - she won't.

23 Oct 2077

8 days before Halloween and they still haven't gotten around to carving up some Jack-o-Lanterns. Then that creepy Vault-Tec rep comes around. As much to shoo him off as anything else, 'Nora' signs her family up for shelter in Vault 111 just up the hill from home should World War III go atomic. The war's been raging for years, surely no one would be mad enough to trigger the MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction) global doctrine that prevents total atomic annihilation?!

Breakfast, coffee with a spike of rum to warm the belly and a drag on a Grey Tortoise cigarette before small talk with Nate. Codsworth, their new Mr. Handy robot, is adapting quite well to household service.

I think he'd look pretty snazzy in a bowler hat.

The newly developed suburb of Sanctuary Hills features thirteen homes. Some with carports, some without. All feature generously sized yards fenced in still-fresh-smelling white painted picket fencing. We're far better off than most Americans. Food is expensive. Money is nearly worthless. A black market in Nuka-Cola bottlecaps has sprung up as they're real, not paper bank notes. The various flavors are coming into vogue among the teenage crowd as various denominations.

The dog's been missing for a while, stubborn beast. Cats don't do that if they like you. Maybe I should get a cat? Nate's been insisting on waiting for the pooch to return despite insisting on calling him Dogmeat.

I love my husband, but Dogmeat? Dogmeat?! That's begging the universe to eat him. It's about the same thing as naming your cat Sausage or your pygmy pig Bacon. They're going to get eaten.

Then the unthinkable happens. New York and Philadelphia - confirmed atomic detonations shatter both cities. Boston is confirmed as having inbound warheads.

We flee to Vault 111, just in the nick of time as in the distance an atomic mushroom cloud erupts from the vicinity of the Commonwealth Institute of Technology.

What we are told are 'decontamination pods' are clearly cryogenic stasis pods the moment they're activated. Vault-Tec lied through their teeth to us! When I get out of th...

Date and Time Yet to be Determined

I awaken, bones and flesh ache from the thawing. A man wearing a bizzare hodgepodge of armor and leather wields a .44 hand cannon escorting a woman clad in a medical environmental suit that reveals no features and somewhat muffles her voice. At least one other voice can be heard to my right as I stare in horror, helpless as Nate's pod is opened.

Nate has Shaun. Oh ... oh you sunsab#++@es ...

They open Nate's cryogenic pod, demanding Shaun. Nate refuses, the balding man administers a .44 Magnum cranial evacuation to Nate. His female minion seizes squalling Shaun, commenting "At least we have the back-up", staring right at me before the cryo-stasis resumes.

23 October 2287, as it turns out.

Someone has a vicious sense of timing. Or Vault-Tec's technology finally gave up the ghost. Either way I am released from cryo-stasis, coughing and spluttering. I pop Nate's cryo-pod open. It shouldn't be real, but there he is, all husband and brains and gwilch, Shaun is gone ...

Inside my head, a cold feminine voice purrs.

"Time to get to work Valkyrie. Nate and Nora are dead. Shaun could be out there, somewhere, or be long dead himself. We have no idea how much time has passed. We. Do. Not. Have. TIME. Mourn later. Get up. Get out of this wretched vault. Get your stash out of the root cellar you helped build. Yes, that stash. Now get!"

A dozen or so dead radiation-mutated cockroaches, some the size of dogs and I'm out of Vault 111. Spend a day retrieving my stash from the root cellar two houses over. I daren't look at the shattered husk of my former home, not now. Old habits and skills return very quickly. My VALKYRIE nano-systems online in the sunlight of the shattered world above.

I scrounge up a somewhat durable outfit from the corpse of some sorry bastard that died shoving a tire iron into the chest of the furless fanged canine that tore his throat out in the process. MAD indeed.

I get the Pip-Boy 3000/N7 up and running, holster my custom .357 and count my ammunition. A few stimpaks. Some pure water. A BPD EOD pack was left by some forgetful soul in the root cellar, complete with sleeping bag.

It isn't until the N7 synchronizes with the night sky that I have an idea of when I am: 23rd October 2287, exactly 210 years after Total Atomic Annihilation fell across most of the globe.

Happy Halloween 2287 in Hangman's Alley, once the former Raider scum occupying the place are violently evicted. A scattering of fragmentation mines at either access point should deter casual intrusion.

Steam screenshots, beginning with Valkyrie's view from atop Vault 111 into Sanctuary Hills.

Creation Club content

• Power Armor combo package: the giddyup buttercup power armor is probably some silliness. OTOH, the Hellfire and Black Devil suits look sweet. The quests to get them are fun, too.
  
• Prototype Gauss Rifle - more or less the same weapon from FO3. Looks much better than the FO4 weapon. Acquired at Gunner Plaza.
  
• Solar Cannon - fun little easter egg hunt. Nasty weapon, albeit typically over-bulked as is the case with so many Fallout weapons.
  
• Anti-Material Rifle - haven't run it, but it's the most interesting quest chain of the weapons'.
  
• Player Home Bundle - adds a Nuka-Cola themed home, a general purpose multi-level home with the standard stuff and most importantly a gorgeous art deco condo in eastern Boston that has a private entrance you can fast travel to. Almost everything in here is in pristine condition and it comes with all crafting but cooking and mod-provided (no ammunition, armorsmith or weaponsmith benches here, for example). This Noir Condo is the crown jewel of all of the creation club content IMO. Eventually it'll become my home away from the Commonwealth. Spacious, luxuriously appointed, complete with a guest room, two bathrooms, a dedicated crafting room with power armor station and gobs of storage space. You can mess around with it if you want ... but I won't do too much of that. The Noir Condo is drool-inducingly good.
  
• various cosmetic packs - had to burn the remaining money on something. Pip-Boy skins, armor/weapon/power armor skins, mostly useless.
  

Now the fun stuff: the Mods (not the load order).

• Unofficial Fallout 4 Patch: THE must-have mod if you get nothing else. The fixes are subtle, but immediately noticeable for veteran players.
  
• Sim Settlements: Three in One.
  
• Sim Settlements: Mega Pack - Year One.
  
• Sim Settlements: City Plan Pack.
  
• Sim Settlements: Wasteland Venturerers 1 and 2.
  
• The Sim Settlements line are a godsend for those sick and frickin' tired of burning precious play time on the tedium of building 30 or so settlements. With all of the bells and whistles, you can basically clear the place of bad guys, trigger the workbench, attach one of your minions "companions" as Manager and let them do their thing.
  
• Girly Animation: Cosmetic goofiness in some ways, but the stances, head movements and melee goodies are a lot of fun.
  
• SKK Quantum Global Workshop Storage: screw supply lines. This mod effectively hyperlinks ALL of your workbenches *and* any crafting stations you mess around with in the boonies. It can remove oddball stations, and all manner of other fun things. In this playthrough this thing is dumping everything into Hangman's Alley for the majority of the time I'll be playing. Top 5 consideration for sure.
  
• Ballistic Weave P10: there's some awesome in here. The vanilla five grades of ballistic weave plus another several varities, all the way up to the XXX-grade that tacks on 9000 each damage, energy and rad resistances to each layered piece. For when you absolutely, positively, have to make sure that Dogmeat doesn't yelp piteously for the elevently millionth time this week. Or yourself for that matter.
  
• Creative Clutter: adds 700 more goodies for decorating your wasteland homes and settlements. Rawr.
  
• What Should Have Been: Ever wondered what all of that Wild [crops] were good for? Now you know, along with scads of other goodies. Love this mod, consider it top 5-10.
  
• Cheat Terminal: The second or third most important/useful mod, ever. From personal storage spaces to All of the Console Commands, including ones I didn't know existed. Tired of burning through fusion cores like candy in your power armor? *Nope*. From gameplay cheats to simply stuffing as much as 10k of All of the Crafting Mats into your workbench(es) in a few clicks, this puppy takes your Pip-Boy to Eleventy-Seven. Also useful for 'porting your wayward companions to you and otherwise proves itself ridiculously useful without having to manually open and enter console commands the old way.
  
• Loot Detector: Pairs ridiculously well with the above Quantum Storage mod. This thing highlights very nearly All of the Lootz. Legendaries, bobbleheads/magazines/et al, its must useful feature I have dubbed the "craploot vacuum". It'll slurp all of the Junk and, if you tell it to, deposit it into a settlement workbench of your designation. It collects ammo, caps and stimpaks as soon as you're close enough. Open a lock, *slurp*. You still choose whether or not to pick up armor, weapons and most aid/food/drink items on your own - but it'll highlight them for you. Makes a proper sweep-n-loot much MUCH less tedious.
  
• Vai's Eye Texture Pack: nice set of extra goodies for your Sole Survivor's eyes.
  
• Ponytail Hairstyles by Azar 2.5: There's more in here than ponytails. I like ponytails on my female avatars, always have.
  
• TCE: The Companions Enhanced: unfuglies Cait, Curie, Hancock, Piper, Danse, McReady, Preston, Valentine and even de-zombifies poor old Mama Murphy. Other stuff comes along gratis, don't ask me what.
  
• Captain Cosmos Changes: fixes some of the stupid in the Captain Cosmos Creation Club add-on.
  
• Overboss .357 Magnum: Packle, packle mightily. Perk-dependant .357 using 10mm ammunition. It's fun and a hell of a beast in a firefight, although there are other weapons that seriously outrange it. Fortunately, most NPCs have the PER of a donut.
  
• USO & UCO Core Components; AKWCR; UCO Season Pass Add-On; USO AKWCR Patch: The core upgrade mods asides from the UFO4P (mentioned first) that adds a slew of goodies to stuff personal and settlement related. Ammunition, armorsmith and weaponsmith workbenches add long-absent options for making your own ammo as well as most / nearly all of the body armor and weapons in the game.
  
• Armorsmith Extended v3.02 Full Version: Fills in the gaps missed by UCO. Also let's you remove and insert legendary properties as you acquire them. No more running around with an Irradiated Pool Cue!
  
• Finch Farm and Greygarden Overpass Lifts: builds lifts for these settlements. No fuss, no muss, probably no Gunner/Raider spawns on them. Now you can simply take the lift to your crumbling freeway converted Bus-House and back. Safety not guaranteed.
  
• Workshop Player Bed: simple yet absolutely necessary for settlements you build yourself instead of letting Sim Settlements handle these things. The only way to guarantee none of those filthy degenerate farmers working for you sleep in YOUR bed, ruining your comfy pillows with their unwashed noggins.
  
• Brutal Melee Perks: kill zem, kill zem all.
  
• Improved Perks: self-explanatory.
  
• Toughness Plus: makes Toughness worth burning perk points on for a change.
  
• Traits and More Perks: chem-crafted Perks and add/remove New Vegas-style Traits. The crafted perks can be a chore unless you have the above-mentioned Cheat Terminal. Then it's simplest to wait until 31st level, then plug 'em all in at one go. Great stuff here.
  
• Pipboy Overhaul (N7 Edition): This is the kick-ass looking Pip-Boy Valkyrie is wearing.
  
• Fuseboxes for All: No more noxious bulky triangle-munching generators. 10 power output fuseboxes anywhere you want (vertical attachment surfaces permitting). Ideally suited for powering certain 14.5mm autocannon turrets.
  
• Simple Flight Ring: yeah, it's basically a flat-out cheat ... but it's a damned useful one, so nyah. No AP jet pack without the fire out your arse. Fire out your arse aka "flaming fart" is an available mod too if you like.
  
• Time Scale and Other Tweaks: finally, some semblance of sanity to the game's ludicrous time scale of 20:1 (20 seconds in-game per second played). At 20:1 a game year happens ridiculously fast. This drops it down to 6:1. Also, radstag does and fawns are docile instead of murderous quadrupedal edible ettins. VATS distance increased. Better settlement attack alert times. Other QOL improvements.
  
• Locksmith: lock your stuff up for real. Booyah!
  
• Brawl Bug Fix: dependency for the Loot Detector.
  
• Nanosuit Female Edition: oh so pretty, multiple colors, magnificently textured and fully armored. Combined with the UCO stuff and Armorsmith Extended stuff, you can wear invisible armor bits atop these awesome items - including a regular jet pack if you desire. Protection in style without tacky raggedy armor bits strapped onto this gorgeous Iron Woman suit. Wage war in the wastelands in style. Accepts ballistic weave on body and several accessories (see above) plus Legendary slots. Accept no substitutes.
  
• Grenade Expansion Pack 2: featuring the M-79 grenade launcher, the real gems in here are the "darts", i.e., thrown weapons, including throwing knives and sticky 'nades! The main GL is "Saint Sean's Special", with the legendary property of [bash] instead permitting swapping out what ammo you're using in it.
  
• The Laser Cannon: mean and nasty. Pew-pew with the big boys.
  
• Improved Minute Men Artillery: By God you're calling in artillery fire, let's wreck some stuff! Danger close has a whole new tier of pain now.
  
• True Storms: Wasteland Edition: absolutely worth it as the sole weather-based mod I'm using. Rad storms are dangerous. Rad-rain is NASTY. All of it is beautiful. Ghoul-spawning fog banks optional.
  
• Deployable Turret Pack 2: Is that a plasma cannon turret in your pocket, or are you just angry to see me?! Yes indeed boys and ghouls, you can carry turrets in Pokeballs and toss 'em out for far more firepower than you and any companions can hope to carry. Ammo is provided by you at the moment deployed, and they are destructible. However ... nothing says Eff Yew to the bad guys like a pocket full of cannons.
  
• Modular Simonov PTRS-41 Anti-Tank Rifle: These things are big, mean, nasty, hit like a maglev train and are gloriously LOUD. There's no mistaking when the bad guys have them because nothing else in the game sounds like them. They penetrate 50%-90% of the target's armor. There are turret versions for your settlements that guaran-damned-tee YOU WILL NOT MISS OUT on any attacks. Whether or not the bad guys survive more than a few shots from one of these beasts is an entirely different matter. Loot Detector mod highly recommended if you use this mod since the targets often become very small chunks of grue in short order ... I *love* these things - the fully tricked out one I put together during testing weighed in at 97.5 pounds of range 600+ silenced scoped 20mm custom-made plasma shaped charge death and destruction in a 40-shot-capacity dual-drum feed. (Normal clips hold 5-15 shots.) The weapon included a damage reduction shield and dual-integrated thermal-and-recon sensors. A sniper's very, very wet dream.
  
• The 80's Mix 1 and 2: in-game radio stations, ideal for pushing that brain-chilling buzzing of "mosqueetoes" out of your ears while you let VATS do the dirty work instead of panicking in a harpoon-your-organs-and-vomit-your-own-blood-in-your-face frenzy to get away from those gawdawful things.
  
• Legendary Mod Additions: craftable legendaries, including quite a few unique to the mod.
  

the Laser Cannon and Anti-Tank Rifle mods auto-populate the bad guys' level lists. You will find bad guys with them, and they hit HARD. As in, if you're running around with crappy armor, you will die in one or maybe two hits...

Honorable Mention Mods - mods I like but aren't using:

• Courser Ghost-Spectre X-92 Nanosuit - a quest finding that does not provide you a starting point (although you should find it eventually). Fairly fun, although for me the gem of the mod is the optics: night vision / thermal vision / combo-both-vision eyeglass slotted item with options for manual or automatic actions. The suit is probably statiscally nicer than the nanosuit above .... but I find the above-mentioned nano-suit far more aesthetically pleasing. Sadly, the bethesda.net version is missing the lion's share of the goodies as this mod was meant to emulate a high-end set of power armor in its capabilities without being all bulky and explody.
  
• Kat's Stash - amusing OP goodies, but restrained in a way. You won't go broke easily, the pistol is deliberately OP (but not quite ridiculously so) and she kindly provides a beret and fatigue set with hefty defenses. As far as OP item mods go, this is about as reasonable as one of them gets. Starting out with 300k caps is nice ... but you have to live long enough to spend 'em.
  
• New Vegas Uniques Mega Pack 2 and the two seperate mods that go with it: FO4-adapted versions of the unique weapons/items from New Vegas. Medicine Stick is my favorite, although the Holy Frag Grenades are there too.
  
• Salvage Beacons: build a comm station, staff it with someone, craft some beacons and go a lootin'. Stuff a bunch of junk into an outside container, slap a beacon on it and eventually your nameless minions will arrive to cart your junk back to their settlement for you.
  
• The Black Tower Project - provides FO4 versions of the Rings of Power from Lord of the Rings. The Sole Survivor can wear as many as five of them. These are where I based Valkyrie's defense and S.P.E.C.I.A.L. boosts on.
  
• MRE's - What Should Have Been already includes several MRE-type items. Otherwise, this simple stand-alone does a wonderful job, especially graphically.
  
• New & Expanded Buildable Areas and Scrapping - if you're gonna stick to building your settlements the old-fashioned way, apply this mod liberally. You can VASTLY improve your settlements with this mod. No more vines!!
  
• M60 Light Machine Gun - a light machine gun firing .308 ammo, conveniently providing one for you in the Root Cellar of Sanctuary. If you acquire a Neverending legendary weapon mod, slap one on this thing, craft up 5000 .308 rounds for it and LOAD UP. You will giggle gleefully as you mow down EVERYTHING.
  
• .45-70 Ranger Sequoia = converts any .44 Magnum you loot / buy into this awesome smokewagon. You'll probably want to ensure you have a large supply of .45-70 ammo saved up before using your gold star-engraved Dragoon.
  

There are a number of Out of Stock items in the Paizo store that are never going to be restocked for various reasons.

Shackled City AP hardcovers, AP issues, etc etc etc.

If there is no ability / intent to restock a given item, remove the price. Inevitably there will be those that come to acquire a Thing that they believed to be available. The out of stock notation is in a smaller font than the price.

86% on Rotten Tomatoes, looks like a lot of fun.

NSFW YouTube trailer linky

Surprised me to find no one here talking about this film. Comes out tonight/tomorrow, snagged a solo screening of it come next Tuesday.

Here's hoping everyone makes it through this okay.

Work-in-progress found here.

Since the Powers-that-Be are currently developing Starfinder’s adventuring materials very slowly for the excellent Starfinder space opera game, taking an entire year just to release Dead Suns, let us instead cannibalize the current Ruins of Azlant Adventure Path for Starfinder and see what happens to a group of characters going where few others dare tread, shall we?

The adaptation will be ‘as best as can be done’ to fit the Ruins of Azlant into the Pact Worlds mileau of Starfinder. In the fulsomeness of time this may prove to be awesome, or way the Hell off-base, or merely mediocre. For now, it’ll scratch an itch and serve its purpose. Hopefully this thread will show that it is possible to adapt other Pathfinder AP’s and 3pp campaigns to Starfinder.

Our Heroes

• ’Gyro’, CG male Ysoki Outlaw Mechanic (exocortex); wanna-be Rocket Raccoon. Athletic campaign trait (ACP reduced by {⅓ character level} for Acrobatics and Athletics).
  
• Raia, CG female Damaya Lashunta Scholar Technomancer; wanna-be Indiana Jones. Healthy campaign trait (+1 Fort saves).
  
• Ninura, CG female Kasatha Priest of Weydan Mystic (healing connection); Expert Explorer campaign trait (+1 Culture).
  
• Grath, NG male ‘human’ Ace Pilot Soldier with a fondness for explosives. Knows how to read and speak Archaic Azlanti. Grath is an enigmatic android with the Starfinder equivalent of several Pathfinder races’ “pass for human without Disguise checks” trait.
  

Prologue
Vaylen-Narani Industries (VNI) had established a foothold in a secluded star system unimaginatively dubbed ‘Our Solar System’ by VNI deep within the Vast shortly before the Gap began. During the chaos of the Gap and the ensuing re-establishment of cultural identities many records were destroyed or lost. With such a vague name it is understandable that it took three centuries before a chance scanning of records for lost opportunities uncovered ‘Our Solar System’ in 313 AG. In 314 AG VNI quietly dispatched survey teams to reassess the potential value of 'Our Solar System' in light of current and projected market demands over the coming decades and century. When the survey teams returned, one world in particular shows particular promise, the planet of Ancorato, named after the captain of that assigned survey ship in 316 AG.

Ancorato and its solar system are not ‘merely’ deep within the Vast, it is deep within the Vast. VNI’s astrogators settled on an acceptable route through the Drift requiring two stops at the outer edges of nameless star systems currently considered to be of little import to VNI interests. VNI’s ships rarely use anything better than a Signal Basic Drift engine, resulting in each leg of the journey to Ancorato requiring (15d6) days’ travel time. On average, each trip to or from Ancorato takes 7½ weeks (52 days, 12 hours), often rounding up to 8 full weeks taking a day at each way station and allowing 36 hours’ layover time at Ancorato for each ‘part’ of a given trip - i.e. 3 days’ total layover in Ancorato.

A hush-hush element of the colony is the presence of what are believed could be ancient Azlanti Star Empire ruins. Preliminary carbon-dating suggests these ruins pre-date the Azlanti Star Empire by a staggering 10-15 thousand years, perhaps more, perhaps less thanks to the Gap. Either way, part of the interview process for those coming along aboard the VNIS Peregrin was to attempt to hone in on those with any applicable archaeological expertise that may prove worthwhile to VNI as a way to gain favor with the governments of the Pact Worlds in dealing with the Azlanti Star Empire. Not much is expected to come of it. In for a credit, in for a mega-credit! VNI has certainly invested more than 1 or 2 mega-credits in this endeavor...

The VNIS Stoppergrin’s Delivery delivered its cargo of colonists shortly before planting season begins on Ancorato in late Calistril (February) of 317 AG, with the VNIS Peregrin arriving six months later in mid-Arodus (August) of 317 AG with additional colonists and supplies for the burgeoning colony of Talmandor. So named in a time-honored demonstration of corporate nepotism/asskissery after the current CEO of Vaylen-Narani Industries, Talmandor Tifflestoppergrin.

Ancorato proper is a predominantly island world with few large land masses above sea level. Captain Ancorato’s supposition on her survey reports believes that the world had been ravaged by an exceptionally devastating series of comet strikes at some point in its geologically recent past, resulting in a world ripe in resources whilst occupied by no identifiable sentient species that would concern those of strong ethical bent. In time Ancorato may become a tourist destination, but for now it is VNI’s unspoiled frontier world and star system to exploit. All they have to do is be patient and quiet lest they be discovered by the Consortium Mega Corporation which has a reputation for claim-jumping its lesser rivals in areas of ‘private concern’ to the powers-that-be in Absolom Station.

Ancorato and its colony of Talmandor is a calculated risk by VNI. If their covert enterprise is as successful as it promises to be, VNI will be catapulted to the top echelons of Pact World corporations. As such the Talmandor Venture Co., LLC was spun off as a technically independent enterprise. VNI proper will not unduly suffer should the Talmandor colony fail, although Talmandor the CEO will assuredly be updating their resume if it does.

The VNIS Peregrin is a Kevolari Venture-class freighter transporting some 180 tons of cargo and 50-odd colonists including the Manager of Talmandor, Ramona Avandth. The Peregrin enters into low orbit as the Ruins of Azlant begins in earnest for Our Heroes.

... to be continued ...

’twould seem that there isn’t a single campaign journal for the Hell’s Rebels Adventure Path. Herein is my character’s AAR for this campaign, assembled from notes during play. This will get posted fairly rapid-fire as the AP itself is in its final leg.

CHAPTER 1 – “In Hell’s Bright Shadow”, 15th March 4716 A.R.
Fledglings of Silver

“... enemy ship’s keel lay atop me ram and all of her gun ports was open. Ye could feel them Hellknights’ a-grinnin’ as they make ready to touch match to hole. To port and starboard ships shriek along with their crew as lightning strokes shatter masts and veritable storms o’ Hellfire sweep decks clear o’ sailor and sail. Chelish warships be close to broadside to port ‘n’ starboard now that they’re thinkin’ me guns ain’t barkin’ no more on account of them havin’ poison gassed me below decks.

“With a grin of me own I light the fuse leadin’ from me wheel below to the Wormwood’s gun deck. One long braided fuse to all me guns, dozens each port and starboard with a couple o’ big dragonnes in the bow fer good measure with special loads just for killin’ ships at point-blank range. In a cacophonous roar a hundred guns fire in near-unison between all four ships! Sailors, Hellknights and fiends alike become lacedon kibble as metal balls punch through hull, carome about inside as ‘twere the devils’ playground before detonating. All four powder magazines go up in fiery storm of body parts, wood, sail, ammunition and hull!”

“So what happened next?”

“Whaddya think happened? I died!”

“Sounds about right ‘Free Captain’ Lota!”
“Treasonous tale, ya half-elf wench! Mind who you spin that yarn about the Battle of Port Peril these days.”
“Bite me, cupcake.”
“Love you too, Lota.”

Laughter and just enough silver coin scatter across my table to pay the tab and a bit more as the breakfast crowd disperses. I won’t have to go hungry or sleep in a tree tonight. The story’s got me by the past few days here in Kintargo while I walk off my sea legs and get acquainted with the city. Over the previous week before this morn this Barzilai Thrune character took over running the city after some hot-to-trot gang of sword-waving paladins went and wiped out a castle full of Hellknights to reclaim their holy swag. Sounds like it was a fun time. Perform (comedy) check of 15 nets enough silver to cover expenses for the day.

Abbie Thrune took none to kindly to this and dropped the hammer on this potential outbreak of unexpected rebellion. All of the big cities got themselves some martial law smackdown going on, so literal dropping of hammers. Kintargo got themselves a Thrunie blood-kin to Queen Abby herself who is an Asmodean inquisitor to take control here by any means necessary, if his writs of witlessness are any indication. So far every day he’s declared a new proclamation.

• Proclamation the First Get paid coppers to kill doves, mice and ravens. Turn the carcasses into the dottori - Chelish government thugs to most folk - for your coppers. Any port in a storm I suppose.
  
• Proclamation the Third Get paid silver for each fifty-plus pound feral dog you round up and turn into the dottori unharmed. Sounds too much like work and a whole lot of folk’ll get mauled to death for the trouble. I’d rather unload cargo for a living than this nonsense.
  
• Proclamation the Second Yeah, yeah, got ‘em out of order. Suck it up, buttercup. All public businesses have to have Abby Thrune’s pretty portrait hung in their main entry under penalty of hefty fines and impoundment if they tell Uncle Barzy to shove it where gulls don’t land. Guessing I’ll not be opening up a dockside tavern anytime soon. She ain’t that pretty.
  
• Proclamation the Fourth Only Thrunies, Asmodean clergy and those who pay what I’m sure will be a handsome “fee” get to wear fancy embroidered duds now. There goes my plan to enter the lucrative high fashion industry. Guessing the Kintargan tailors and seamstresses are scrambling to adjust to this bit of authoritarianism.
  
• Proclamation the Fifth Now he’s getting bizarre. Failure to swiftly pick up spilled grain involves a per-grain fine. Fail to pay, spend some time in the poke enjoying the ‘stellar’ company of the Kintargo dottori. This has potential.
  
• Proclamation the Sixth No tea from sunset to sunrise. Screw you Barzy, I love my tea! Let’s see if his minions are able to enforce the penalties for when I inevitably break this proclamation, repeatedly and often. Now, if only I can figure out where to requisition some good lotus tea...
  
• Proclamation the Seventh Yesterday’s gem proscribes the consumption of mint confections, drinks and sweets. Too bad I just had a mint pie as part of this morning’s hearty breakfast, eh? Ah, minty breath, oh so fresh. Wherefore art thou, mint tea?
  

Taking a wild guess that Thrunies don’t cotton much to the How to Win Friends and Influence People school of thought. Ruthless authoritarianism has its place. In my face is not one of them.

More importantly are the tidbits of information regarding Barzilai that can be taken as more-or-less fact, and the current gutter gossip.

Barzy, Barzy, Barzy. You’re clearly a dangerous fellow. Top attack dog of the Asmodean church in Cheliax. Legitimate blood claimant to the throne if he Machiavelli’n’ized his way up that particular pecking order. A big fan of cruel torture, his latest being “doghousing” whereby mastiffs are used to publicly and relatively slowly execute the condemned. Prone to fits of rage when some trivial matter sets him off. Mental note: if you send him a messenger, send a few grenades along with the messenger. Loves the opera in that less-than-mentally-healthy-obsessive way only those who are both unhinged and rich can indulge in. Considered to be astonishingly well educated on the geography and history of Cheliax. Rumored to either currently associate or recently has associated with a blue dragon, the undead and devils. No one has been believed to have seen him in Kintargo amongst such august company. To be fair, most wouldn’t survive that particular sighting if any one of the three are true.

Might have to make him eat a whole grain cupcake liberally slathered in mint frosting at some point.

Rumors are typically interesting during such troubling times:

• Some say that the previous lord-mayor of the city fell down some stairs and broke her fool neck after ‘praying a bit too hard to Cayden Cailean’.
  
• The dottori’s gaols are so full of prisoners as a result of the proclamations that they’re sending some to the Sallix Salt Works to dig. Nasty work.
  
• An old livery has some strange noises and goings-on. Abandoned building, possibly full of loot and a few critters to dispatch? Might be worth looking into this afternoon after the inevitably unexpected riot breaks out at some point this morning.
  
• A bunch of places burned up all of a sudden 4 nights back. The Thrashing Badger (tavern), the Silver Star (music store) and the Victocora Estate. Would not surprise me if they turned out to have had sympathetic leanings towards folk who don’t like being told exactly how they’re to do all of the things.
  

What I’ve learned so far about Kintargo:

• The main castle is occupied by the Hellknights of the Order of the Rack. They’re the jabronis that deal with crushing rebellion beneath hobnailed boots. At least with Barzy holed up in a fancy opera house he should be easier to get to if that need ever were to arise. Taking on a battalion or regiment of Hellknights without a few artillery batteries in tow presently seems like a suicide run.
  
• The Nidalese embassy and the office of the former lord-mayor are abandoned. The former most likely as a precaution in such troubling times for ol’ Abby.
  
• Crissali’s Fine Tomes is said to be a place to purchase rare texts and magical arcane items, which could come in handy.
  
• The Lucky Bones, a burned out gambling hall that’s never been rebuilt.
  
• Olmer’s Smithy, the last smith in town and rumored to sometimes sell magical armor. Worth checking into if said smith should happen to have an enchanted mithril holy curve blade available.
  
• Vespam Artisans might have magical trinkets and knick-knacks for sale.
  
• The city’s busiest gate now carries a 2 sp gate tax. Small wonder people are getting upset. For many folk that’s more than they make in a day!
  
• Hocum’s Fantasmagorium was a museum of oddities that may still have ‘features of interest’ as the investigatively-inclined are wont to say. About almost anything.
  
• The Newt Market apparently often has magic items for sale.
  
• The War Cage is the more likely place I’ll find the blade I’m looking for, assuming the Asmodean clergy haven’t confiscated all such weaponry before I get to them.
  

This morning the action is at the Aria Market in front of the Kintargo Opera House that Barzy claims as his HQ. Seems as good a time as any to get into some trouble with the Chellies. A scowling woman with a dozen dottori thugs guard the entrance into the opera house.

A fairly hefty crowd of assorted protesters mills about in the park while the fountain doesn’t care. Many are upset about the harsh curfew imposed by martial law. A few of them are honked off about the fourth proclamation. The smarter ones are worried about the precedents set by these proclamations. More people are pissed about that 2 sp gate tax. The politically astute are raising a ruckus about the lord-mayor’s suspiciously convenient replacement by Barzy. Others are demanding a proper election for the lord-mayor’s replacement.

The worst elements among the crowd are the nationalists and the anarchists. The former are blindly patriotic to the nation despite decades of Thrune rule supported by Infernal power. The latter just want to watch the world burn.

‘Protest the Government’ is her reason to attend the protest at Aria Park. +2 Bluff (+3) and Intimidate (+13) during the protest itself. Guess which way she went?

To the nationalists: “You would rather peace and security at any cost, eh? Fines and jail time for spilled grain, proclamations requiring a cult of personality, determining what you can wear and what you can eat are worth it, eh? What good does that do you when a storm sweeps in from the sea or pestilence devastates the crops? When will the inevitable prima nocta be proclaimed and your children are first bedded by those who think themselves your betters merely by right of existence?” All delivered in the booming voice necessary to command a ship’s crew at sea during foul weather and broadsides. First hour: Silence undesirable elements (Chelish loyalists). 30 on the Intimidate check, something of a waste of a natural 17.

Turning on the anarchists: “And YOU, you lily-livered pieces of trash! None of ye’re fit to row a garbage scow down river or swab the deck of a real ship! (mockingly puts up air quotes with her fingers) “Burn everything so we can take what we want. Grar.” Betting you scum wouldn’t be so keen on it if Barzy decides your skin will make some nice lampshades, or that you and your kin are dragged off to mine salt just because he can. YOU there buttercup - yeah, you with the missing teeth - is gonna be picking up soap for the dottori’s pleasure with that nice ‘o’ for a yap you got there if he so decides. When he’s done with ye, ye’ll be doghouse’d afterwards ‘cause he found your technique ‘lacking’. Ye want that, do ye?!” Second hour: Silence undesirable elements (anarchists). 33 on the Intimidate check. Ugh, what a waste of a natural 20.

Time to stir things up now that the conflicting protests are better aimed at Barzy. Third hour: Rabble Rouse. 18 Diplomacy check grants a +1 circumstance bonus on subsequent social skill checks for the next 24 hours. 20 Perception check notes Barzy himself peeks out from behind a balcony window curtain with a poo-eating grin on his face. XP awarded: 600.

The crowd’s getting good and riled up. The dottori thugs show some concern as they’re outnumbered five to one, the scowling woman doesn’t seem phased in the least and Barzy’s glances from his balcony window seem to be one of ... joy. Dude’s a bit twisted. As the mood is finally starting to get to where it could be productively aimed the bells of the Cathedral of Asmodeus ring out three peals for no apparent reason. The peals aren’t on time and certainly didn’t count out to ten o’clock as one would normally expect at this time of a morning.

As an aside, part of the reason I’m here are those bizarre bells. See they don’t ring regularly and I doubt that there are any bell ringers in there. A curiosity I’m betting had skinned more than a few ‘cats’.

Barzy throws wide the windows and curtains to address the crowd of protesters. Clad in red, orange and black clothes beneath an ornate breastplate, everything about him screams “AM CHELISH ASMODEAN!”. Pentagrams, the Chelish cross and a nasty-looking heavy mace of black metal seemingly lit from within by Hellfire. Middle-aged with short, dark hair, he deigns to address us wearing a condescending sneer with a goblet of wine in his mailed fist. Looking up the crowd grows quiet while his attack chihuahua at ground level eyes the crowd.

“Ah my adoring little chickadees. I am sorry to say I have not yet adapted to your quaint, country ways, being accustomed as I am to the sophistication and learning of Egorian. Nonetheless, know I have heard your concerns, that I appreciate your valued feedback, and I know we shall eventually find a mutual understanding in the fulness of time. I take pride in updating Kintargo’s quaint, outdated laws to the modern standards the city deserves while strengthening its ties with the empire in these cruel times. Obviously I have approached my duties too aggressively.

“You say you chafe at the presence of non natives in positions of power? That authorities not of this city have no place as its leaders? That you will not be yoked by intruders? Your lord-mayor hears you.

“And so it is with a heavy heart that I issue this proclamation in response to your demands.” A knowing glance in my direction? Or am I just imagining a figment?
“All ship’s captains are hereafter barred from leaving their vessels and setting foot on Kintargo docks or streets, under pain of let’s say ... spassation!”
Knowledge (local) check of 22 fritters away yet another high d20 roll.

Squassation, for those who aren’t up-to-date on the latest and greatest in the methods and techniques of torture, is where the victim’s hands are tied together and raised above the head behind the back; the victim is then hung from the hands while a weight is suspended from the feet, causing intense pain to the limbs during a series of drops while the weight is attached.

Typically the initial punishment is applied for a few hours, with subsequent violations incurring more time of similar increments. Your ‘typical’ sailor might consider this a kindness compared to being keelhauled, but not by much as keelhauling is fairly quick but highly likely to kill you. This can cripple a victim for weeks, with death eventually occurring from a prolonged squassation.

Mechanically speaking in game terms, squassation is doled out in (1d4) hour increments. Each hour inflicts (2d6) nonlethal damage and (1d4) Dexterity damage. Each repeated offense adds another (1d4) hours. Nonlethal damage taken in excess of one’s normal maximum hit points becomes lethal damage, as I suspect is the norm for torture. Mummified alchemists won’t care about the nonlethal damage but they will care about the Dex damage, for example.

‘Proclamation the Eighth’ that will be posted and town-crier’d later today and the next few days reads as follows for the sake of ease of reference:

“All non native ships’ captains must remain aboard their ships and are barred from setting foot on land within Kintargo’s city limits. Their crew and agents are free to come and go, but their actions are directly the responsibility of their captains. Any agent or crew caught breaking Kintargan law shall have its punishment visited upon the crew members as well as their captain. Any captain caught setting foot in Kintargo is to be punished by squassation.”

Someone in the crowd flings poo at Barzy as the crowd erupts with anger and fury. The poo misses despite fairly good aim, causing him to spill wine across his pricey outfit. “Enough of this! Nox, run them off, arrest them or kill the, I don’t care!” Barzy retreats into his opera house, slamming the windows shut and closing the curtains.

Attack chihuahua Nox grins with cute little taco-doggie fangs, “Alright you lot, let’s get to work!” Must be Barzy’s attack chihuahua Nox. Men and women throughout the crowd pull back their cloaks to reveal matching armbands, truncheons the sadistic grin law-abiding types derive from having permission to thump skulls with impunity.

During the pandemonium of the riot, four of these “Chelish Citizens’ Group” wield their truncheons with an eye to pummeling me into the ground. Based on their grips, they’re not attempting to kill, not yet at least. The dottori are as they heft their maces and begin wading into the crowd, splitting scalps with solid blows as they go.

One of them gets in close to me before I get my guard up and rings my bell with her truncheon. I lost initiative to one of the four, who then rolls a natural 20 failing to confirm - a 5 will usually fail - thankfully. 4 points’ nonlethal damage is a lot better than 2d6+4! Unfortunately for her, I actually know how to fight unarmed.

As the riot unfolds someone’s lucky dagger throw scores a shot to Nox’s throat - one that for many folk would result in death or a trip to a very good healer. Instead, she growls, tears the offending blade out, tosses it to the ground and the wound heals in just a couple of seconds before she stalks back inside.

Ooookaayy then ... Nox is a really hard-to-kill attack chihuahua.

At the end of Round 3 I’ve put three CCG goons into retreat mode while two dottori thugs enter the fray, swinging wildly with their heavy maces. Down 9 nonlethal damage and outnumbered 3:1, matters are desperate enough to drop a sleep spell at my feet. Luckily they don’t connect from the free attacks of opportunity I gave them. Amusingly, the CCG thug nat-20s his Will save while the dottori flub theirs, I miss my unarmed strike, the truncheon narrowly misses me and this exchange carries the fight into the top of the sixth round before I confirm an unarmed strike for a critical hit dealing enough damage to stagger him on the spot. He takes the hint, heading off into the milling crowd. In turn, I use my last 1st-level spell of the day to cure light wounds at the top of initiative on Round 7, wiping out all 9 points of nonlethal damage.

Standing there with a silvery wand in one hand and an elven curve blade at my waist with two dottori at my feet, Nox’s return from inside included a Fido. In this case, a 18 Kn (planes) - why are my best rolls going into skill checks?! frellin’ Hellhound on a leash and another dozen dottori, all eager for blood.

The hound’s fiery breath and unearthly howl do what bellowing dottori and whirling truncheons were failing to do: disperse the crowd. Taking the hint, it’s clearly time to skedaddle before Nox and her Fido chase me down. I’m plenty good for giving this Chellies grief, but this is stacked too much in their favor.

XP earned: 270 from defeating four militia mooks plus another 200 for the pair of dottori. Total XP so far: 1,070.

A few minutes later I’m working my way towards a safer location when I hear the unmistakable cry of a man in the throes of being beaten to death. Diverting into the alley, a group of five Chelish Citizens’ Group pukes have surrounded and are about to stave in the skull of an unconscious, bleeding man at their feet. These aren’t packing mere truncheons, but short-handled maces.

Since I’m out of mojo for the moment, I leave my wand in its sheath to deliberately slide my curve blade from its sheath in as noisome a manner as possible. Four of them are the same ones I pummeled not too long ago in the riot, all healed up of their beatings. I’m wary of my chances, but their victim took down another quartet of jerks before they got to him, so he’s not too much of a slacker.

“Morons. Why'd it have ta be ... morons.”
"Five to one odds says we'll be tapping that."
"First one in - which is you - I'll cut in half. Take out one or two more, the rest of you'll run."
“You’re betting your ass, sweetcheeks. Literally.”
“You have to get it first, liverwurst.”

A little known fact about the water moccasin style of combat is that it works especially well against opponents that are not as good as you are. Combine that with weapons training in something as beautiful as an elven curve blade and things get fun in a hurry, for me at least. When outnumbered, go on the defensive, wear them out, striking as openings present themselves. My blade has the reach, and unlike many wielders I know how to do so one-handed. Advanced practitioners let combat flow about them as they counterattack and dodge most or almost all of the blows coming their way while dispatching the mobs and swarms with relative ease.

They charge in a rush, eager to collect my stake in the pot before us. Fighting defensively adds a nice bit of AC at low levels. Sucks for them trying to hit a 22 AC... Granted, my own attack bonus is pretty crap, but I’ll hit them more often and harder that they’ll hit me. Round 1, none of the four that can charge and swing hit while I cut one in half with a confirmed critical hit to the tune of 19 damage on the dice alone, 25 damage in total. 10 hp and a Con of 12 results in insufficient to live. Round 2 is uneventful, whereas in round 3 I get whacked for 7 hp and gut one for 11 hp. Round 4 there’s 3 of them in flanking positions but the defensive tactic is holding up its end of the bargain. A natural 19 and confirmation guts #3 of the five for 18 hp. The pair of survivors attempt to flee, a maneuver I’m not going to waste the time to stop them.

637.5 xp reward for this encounter-rescue, bringing the running tally to 1,707.5 for the day.
I check him out, but he was playing possum, rather foolishly when a man is getting ready to splatter your brains across bricks. “Hey buddy, I’m out of healing juice. How’re you doin’?”

And so one Rexus Victocora of the same name and family as the noble estate that was arson’d just a few nights previous fishes out a potion of tasty red liquid and downs it so we can get on with things. Namely, looting these sorry bastards after getting directions to his hideout in Crissali’s Fine Tomes not far from here. He goes on his way, I collect a big bundle of loot and make my own way there.

Okay, “big bundle” is relative. Compared to the two silvers I had to my name before dismembering and gutting these jokers - and quietly snapping the necks of the ones the nobleman had already taken down - what they have of value on them is a huge improvement to my net worth. Namely 28 gold coins and seven gold Thrune amulets that’ll fetch a fine price from the right buyer. Appraise 10, wildly inaccurate. I’m convinced they’re solid gold! Boy am I in for a rude surprise...

At the literate and comfortable establishment of Crissali’s Fine Tomes Rexus has set up kip in the back room. Long story short, the infamous night is known as the “Night of Ashes”, he’s super-grateful his brains didn’t get smashed out and he forks over his surviving inheritance. String attached is (a) helping him explore the Fair Fortune Livery where his mom disappeared; and (b) build up a revolution against Barzy and his minions in the name of a historically significant group of troublemakers known as the Silver Ravens. While he keeps a mithril key for himself, he forks over another 175 gp, a set of enchanted bracers, an exquisite heirloom fighting knife masterwork silver dagger and a Victocora signet ring.

I make ready to enter the ruins of the Fair Fortune Livery during the late afternoon of the 16th. I need to replenish my spells with an eye towards the exploration of ruins instead of dealing with thugs and dottori. Between this evening and the following day’s earlier hours, I scrounge up some chow for my two silvers and fence the amulets. Turns out, I got half-scrap value for ‘em. Rather embarrassing since I should know better, but hey, they felt heavy enough. Now burdened with more than 300 gp to spend, I stock up on some proper adventuring gear and head to the twice-mentioned place where Rexus’ dear old ma took her dirt nap. I would have taken him with me, but keeping that mithril key is enough of a sign that all is not yet done with him.

Please discuss the current state of the U.S. education system here. Thanks in advance.

Thread title says it all. Thanks in advance.

Viable ablative body armor and other fun bits of technological goodies.

Gentlecritters, materials innovations such as this in combination with several other recently announced items seem poised to permit an entirely new "age".

Presuming we don't wipe ourselves out first. ;)

As per the subject, please cancel my adventure path subscription.

Prologue
Soundtrack

Running through an impossibly tall alley comprised of crumbling, grey brick walls while attempting to keep ahead of a sickly citrine fog lapping at one’s heels is bad enough. Doing so amidst the agonizing death shrieks of nameless people whilst their blood and entrails soak your back, tangle your ragged clothes and squelch between your toes is worse. All of this without any idea of what stalks within the tenebrous miasma, without a target, lacking any concept of your stalker’s capabilities, is justifiably a situation to flee.

If you prefer, a tactical advance away from the enemy.

I run at a steady ground-eating pace as my feet propel me ahead of the capering mists which engulf those that trip and stumble to either flank, or fall on fear distorted faces.

A massive man with ropy sinews, a milky left eye and a shaved head turns atop a rubble pile bearing the expression of a warrior that has had quite enough of running.

“Why die tired?”

The urine soiling his ragged trousers belies his fear as a massive maul fills his meaty fists from nowhere.

Where was he carrying that? How is it that these rubble piles crop up at the worst possible moment?

The fog lashes about him as I pound past him towards another fork.

Always go left. They always expect you to go right, so I go left.

A slender woman wearing filthy tattered rags, her unkempt black hair spreads in the air as she goes right. Her ragged breathing does not hold much hope for her survival. For now, she runs, faster than I.

A gangly pale man hobbles along as best he can behind her, his side hitching from the long flight from slaughter, cramps beginning to set in his scrawny legs.

A surreal echoing cackle booms within the mists behind me. A spare glance as the big man disappears into the fog. A wave of air is heard as he swings in time with a croaking roar from his parched throat. Bricks shatter from the wild, powerful blow.

Then he shrieks within that damned fog. The lingering scream that obtains the higher octaves only heard from those dying slower than they wished. Blood, innards and limbs spray impossibly far past me as I reach the intersection to bear left.

Each intersection slows my pace down before I pick up speed once more along the straightaways. That awful cloud chases us all. A quick glance behind and all I see is his spleen fall from my shoulder. The fog is not as thick, the footfalls of pursuit tauntingly change from perhaps five paces behind to as many as twenty without rhyme or reason.

Another split, curving uphill to the left, downhill to the right, grey bricks towering to either side. Nowhere to go but onward, left along the uphill curve.

Raggedly breathing, the slender woman with the dark hair pounds up the slope from my right wearing an expression of frustration and anger. She yanks the silver symbol from the leather cord on her neck, as if just now remembering she has it.

The skinny pale fellow a few yards past her staggers from the mists, inexplicably producing a hand-and-a-half blade, slightly curved with blood grooves. The steel would gleam in brighter light. Gasping and panting, he reaches out with his left hand to steady himself against the alley.

The fog lashes out all about him, the last thing we see is his expression - regret. The blade begins to rise as he begins to turn to face the unknown lurker. Then nothing, for an eternal few seconds.

Glurk! A rattling inhalation, then what sounds like a waterfall soaks both myself and the slender woman in another impossible deluge of gore, entrails and dismembering appendages, the curved blade clattering across the cobblestones with the man’s right hand holding it in a death grip.

Transfixed, the gore trickles down the slender woman’s back. I blink the blood from my eyes.

“Me” spells itself out on her back.

The slender woman raises her silver symbol and shrieks at the yellow mist with its suspended particles of blood. “Begone, abomination!” A silvery pulse of silent light, weak in the red-purple-black light from the sky above, lashes all about her and into the fog.

Glancing down at the curved blade, it spins about, somehow dancing across the cobblestones and spelling out another word.

“Up” scrawls across the pavers.

A nightmare, not real, yet real enough to kill. Time to go!

Taking in a deep breath, the scent is strangely reminiscent of “home”, though at the moment I know not why whilst my tactical advance away from the Thing in the Fog continues.

“Where are you go ... Hell, wait up!” The slender woman turns to follow. I’m not waiting. We ascend the curved path up the hill, acutely aware of how such a slope slows us down. A dead end looms about us.

“Search for a hidden door, quickly!” She turns once more to face the mists that continue to sprinkle blood in a macabre shower while I pace along the perimeter, confident. I finally realize that she is taller than I am by at least a foot.

The fog waits for no one. The tendrils pursue, then overtake us as my search about the circumference of the dead end continues. As the mist thickens, noise dampens and sight begins to be obscured. Rustling noises precede four lengths of flesh-like fabric that lash out from the fog behind us, wrapping about the woman’s limbs and pulling her to the ground. She screams in both fear and anger, her fist firmly clamped about her silver trinket. The first strap is about that same arm, flexing with inhuman strength as it effortlessly snaps her forearm in half. The other straps repeat the process before dragging her broken form shrieking into the mist behind me.

As she is jerked into the fog her blood streaks left behind somehow spells out “Save”. One letter for each sundered limb.

Me. Up. Save.

That makes no sense. Neither does this nightmare. Think!

Organs are flung at me from the mists as the bloody rain picks up its intensity, squilching as each one splats onto my chest. Blood pools into places it has no right going into from the outside.

Her heart, its final beats futilely attempting to continue its purpose.

Wake up, save me.

Her lungs, inflating and deflating as if the one they came from is still hyperventilating.

That has to be it.

The crunch of bone being rent asunder precedes the clattering of teeth on brick before the monster flings her brain at me.

“Next time we meet I’m going to rip a limb off and beat you death with it.”

Roaring at the monster within the fog, my senses open in the real world. The fog is gone, the crimson rain and our stalker vanishing with it.

Control your mind, <indecipherable>, or the leeches will assuredly command it for you. A voice from my past, but whose?

End Prologue

Now that the big party conventions are done and the tickets affirmed, let's get the slobberknocker going.

Our good buddies at Paradox are soon to release a grand strategy/exploration galactic scale space/sci-fi game.

They've just today started taking pre-orders at 3 different tiers on Steam and presumably elsewhere. linky to Steam

If you are reading this journal, then I have fallen to the mighty foes that seek to conquer with dragonfire, devastating storms and the hobnailed boots of all manner of giants. Perhaps this will end as a trophy on some chief's shelf, perhaps stronger souls than I shall learn from the information herein.

Early spring, 4715 A.R., Trunau, Belkzen. Day 1.

My trusty steed Shadowmist and I arrive at the pile of rocks outside humble Trunau in the late afternoon. Originally assembled in Sandpoint, Varisia, the caravan makes it way southerly to Magnimar before turning east, finally arriving in Trunau.

Along the way we meet some new friends, always welcome in the frontier region of the Hold of Belkzen. Perhaps two years ago the bearers of the Sihedron slew Caldrikalsta, the blue wyrm that had terrorized the orcs of the Hold for several centuries until perhaps five years ago. Since then, something arose to fill that power vacuum - we just didn't know what. Not yet, not on the eve of a glorious day.

Dramatis Personae

• 'Healbot', female human Life Oracle 1. We met about a month ago when the greater part of the caravan formed in Magnimar. Her parents are reputable Osiriontologists based out of Absolom. She followed in their footsteps, joining the Pathfinder Society, moved to Magnimar in wake of its recent ascension to prominence only to be sent to Trunau along with the most recent graduating class of Pathfinders to track down and report on the rumors of artifacts and other items of yore that recently surfaced in the Hold. Stunningly attractive with Garundi heritage and piercing green eyes, she is lightly armed and armored.
  
• Geoffrey Chaucer, male gnome arcane sorcerer 1. We came across this poor naked little cretin along the road to Turtleback Ferry. Severely delusional, he claims that none other than Nethys saved his life when he was an infant, blessing him as an Oracle of Nethys. Being quite the runt, he's the shortest male gnome ever heard of. Despite his indomitable beliefs, he is quite personable and an eloquent orator. I don't know yet if his forgery skills are as good as his speechcraft. His familiar is either a lizard or a scorpion, it's been hard to spot the little critter.
  
• Rudyard "Rude" Kipling, a towering male wyvaran barbarian 1 of reptilian rather than draconic heritage. His clutch of origin lies far to the east in a silver mine to the east of the Hooktongue Slough in the River Kingdoms. According to him, his father is one of the red wyrms from somewhere hereabouts. Given his druthers, he'll be fashioning matching luggage and accessories from his father's scaled hide.
  
• 'Skittles Emminnemm', female elf Unchained Rogue 1. Staggeringly intelligent and nimble of finger, she's been working as the greeter and counterpickpocket at the inn/tavern in Trunau, she won her hopeknife two years ago. Skittles knows more than a half-dozen languages, making her extremely popular when caravans arrive. To human eyes she's about 17 years of age. Interestingly, she has self-esteem issues despite her gifts and skills.
  
• Shadowmist, a 10 year old black charger from Sandpoint, equine smartass and always popular with the ladies and kids.
  

I've inherited a small cottage with an attached horse stall from my uncle here in Trunau, may he rest in peace. Chaucer sweet-talks his way into a hammock under the front overhang, but I manage to keep enough of my wits about me so that the little stomach doesn't eat Shadowmist out of hearth and home.

The rest of my new friends get accommodations at the main building in town.

Day 2

Today is Ruby's hopeknife ceremony. After the ceremony, the girl-now-a-woman ropes me and the rest of us into a tug-of-war against her brothers and four of the burlier militiamen. Things don't begin well, especially with Chaucer barely able to hang onto the rope behind Ruby with his little legs churning the air. Despite the best efforts of 'Rude' and I, we are inexorably dragged closer and closer to the marker. Ruby's father joins in, yet the tide continues against us. Three farmers jump in, crying aloud "Ruby shall not fall! TRUNAU shall not fall!!". Yet we are still mere steps from Ruby being pulled across the marker. Sighing at our puny thews, Shadowmist grabs onto the rope - to much cheering and delight by the onlookers - and with a mighty heave Ruby's team tugs four men across the point of no return.

The town celebrates Ruby's triumph over her brothers, staying up until the wee hours. Ruby heaps apple-y accolades upon Shadowmist before he cuts my drinking short after guzzling what seems to be several gallons of hard cider. I take him home, hold his head, brush him down and lean him against the wall of his stall. Chaucer staggered to his hammock a couple of hours later. The pipsqueak can hold his liquor!

Day 3

'Healbot' fetches us from the place they've been staying the past couple nights. Rodrick was found slain, his wrists slit with his own hopeknife! After his brother bade us investigate this horrible event as other than a suicide, we get to work.

Further investigation by 'Healbot', 'Skittles' and 'Rude' locate a receipt for the purchase of an engraved hopeknife by Roderick ... for Roderick?! The murder weapon - of this I am convinced - is unengraved.

After a quiet discussion, we collect our evidence, bade the guards refuse entry by anyone else and make our way to the smithy. En route a trio of not-right-in-the-head nearly-grown wolf cubs attack us. 'Skittles' whiffs mightily with a sling bullet whilst Chaucer begins the mysterious gestures and incantations of "invoking Nethys' blessing". One of the cubs nips Rude's heel and pulls her from her clawed feet whilst another gnaws bloodlessly on the tip of her tail. The third leaps up in an attempt to pull me from my saddle. 'Healbot' utters a true blessing upon us all that doesn't benefit the seemingly rabid cubs before Chaucer's entrancing magic sprinkles two of the cubs with glittering sand, sending them into a deep slumber. A moment later a patch of grease appears beneath the one cub that is gnawing on Rude's tail-tip before Shadowmist has had enough and smashes the gnawing nipping cub into the ground whilst the instincts drilled into me by my uncle found my warhammer whirling through the air to shatter the diseased cub's skull.

Finally recognizing that the cubs have been poisoned by parties unknown, Rude and I securely bind the surviving pair of cubs to detour to the 'animal shelter', wherein animals are being trained to aid in Trunau's defense.

Session concludes with 'Rude' having taken 2 hp at ~9 a.m. of Day 3.

If you liked Despicable Me and Despicable Me 2, you will/should love Minions.

Sneak preview at the Alamo.

Two words to describe the film: HOLY F*$K!!!!!

We are allowed to answer questions/say anything else on Tuesday 12th May.

<evil grin>

What do you get besides secondary class features? Does a secondary Wizard get the ability to cast spells? Does a secondary Fighter get the Fighter's bonus combat feats? Etc.

The time has come to cancel my Paizo subscriptions, to include my beloved Charter AP subscription.

o7 Paizonians.

Turin, signing off.

On 22nd June, Murder Hobo Company #4755, Varisian Local 400, escorts Ameiko Kaijitsu Amatatsu and company in her quest to ascend her throne.

Naturally, being card-carrying murder hobos, they will do so by way of dishing out (and taking) copious quantities of foolishness, mayhem and especially gratuitously graphic violence upon the bodies of everyone and everything that gets in their way.

The PCs are 25 point buy, 2 gratis traits (or an eligible Story feat), monstrosities starting at 10th level at the beginning of Chapter 4. 62k gp for their pizza, gear and "adult novelties" collections.

No Hero Points though. ;)

Dramatis Personae As current information provides

• K_GM A "Disciple of Wu" - aka "Herp Derp", trapfinder Ranger/Fighter
• Haru "Fu Manchu", Summoner (archetype YTBD) with a 'Foo Lion' eidolon
• le Artiste "Woody", hedonist ratfolk Monk (flowing monk archetype w/ janni combat style & probably some permitted 'dipping' into Monk Vows and Quingoing powers for poos and grins)
• Agent J "Blasty McBlastsalot" <-- current name is assigned, as I have no idea what the character is going to be other than a Sorcerer
• "OJ" character unknown

There is no need for a Cleric to be in situ if the PC casters can slather on sufficient buffs to let Herp Derp, Fu Manchu's 'Foo Lion' and "Woody" shred the bad guys and take their stuff. Post-combat bandaging should be easy enough.

Go here to revel in the forthcoming 7th edition of the classic Call of Cthulhu!

Note the tasty, tasty goodies ... the promise of carnage, foolishness, madness, mayhem and violence upon the bodies of hapless investigators as they attempt to thwart the heinous acts of Mythos cults and entities!

Pledge your support ... and grovel before the Greater Evil. 'cause settling for the lesser evil just doesn't cut it anymore. ;)

~squiggle~

Greetings and smellutations, ladies and gentlecritters. Your friendly neighborhood carnivorous hobbit cultist of the Great Old Ones is slated to begin a joyful romp through the Carrion Crown Adventure Path with "the old gang".

Cast of Players
K_GM, Haru, Agent J, le Artiste (the group's designated 'flake').

There is a possibility that other players may or may not join in the foolishness, mayhem and violence as the campaign progresses.

House Rules
This is as close to old school as the Pathfinder rules allow. A 15-point buy for ability scores for characters of the normal races as the APs are theoretically written for a group of 4 15-point-buy PCs. We will put this theory to the test.

Each character gets to "cheat death with consequences" once per level at the player's discretion. Inspired by the success of a similar rule being used in my Shattered Star campaign, this permits a PC to return from a messy demise post-combat. How severely messed up a PC is depends on how far past dead they wound up.

Because the campaign is only going to play one session a month, there is a vested interest in shaving off as much of the roleplaying gobbledegook as possible. The desire is to cram as much of the campaign into six sessions as humanly possible. I am hoping to be wrapping up Wake of the Watcher (Chapter 4) as of the October session. In an ideal scenario, we would wrap up the entire campaign in six months, but that strikes me as overwhelmingly optimistic.

As such, I requested that the players send me the pertinent particulars.

So far we have:

• Tuco Benedicto Pacífico Juan María Ramírez aka "the Rat", male Dwarf Fighter, Charisma 5 K_GM PC #1
• Bennie of the Hills, male Human Wizard, 8 Str, 8 Wis, 7 Cha K_GM PC #2, which was something that I said shouldn't happen unless they are short a player...
• Skilus, male lizard man Oracle of Life Haru's PC
• The Hobbit with No Name, male Hobbit Ninja "Burglar" who used the lion's share of his Rich Parents trait to begin play with a combat-trained riding dog le Artiste's PC
• The Gnome with No Name, male Gnome Cavalier Agent J's PC

K_GM wrote up roughly 16 PCs for this campaign (at least in bullet point style).

There has been some entertaining e-mail roleplaying going on prior to the commencement of actual table-play. To quote a previous CJ post (by Macharious IIRC): "E-mail, where all the real role-playing takes place". This also serves as an excellent method by which to cut out the time-intensive investigative blather-all prior to commencing with messy character deaths .. er, beginning game play all proper-like.

The next posting will detail the e-mail-based roleplaying that has taken place thus far, edited to adhere to the board's PG-13 standards.

The time has come to chronicle the group's foolishness, mayhem and violence in our crack at the notorious Skull & Shackles AP. This is the same group that ran the CoT/KM "combo campaign".

The first session is slated to begin this Sunday the 17th of March. Sadly I have work that evening or we would be celebrating Saint Patty's Day properly with drink and bowls of corned beef stew.

My PC will be an amphibious lizard man (as presented in the ARG). One other player is going to be playing an orc scarred witch doctor. The rest of the slackers still don't know what they are playing just yet. The infamous Hexen Ineptus is optimistic that he can get a home-brew base class approved for play. Torsin at last word was toying with a barbarian angling for rage prophet. Missus Turin is completely at a loss at last word.

I will be amazed if one or more of us don't get themselves keelhauled when all is said and done...

Cast of Characters

• Abba-Zaba CG male aasimar oracle of flames 1st, Alabaster Outcast #1;
• Kit Kat ?G female human sorceress 1st, Alabaster Outcast #2;
• Snickers CG male human two-handed fighter 1st, arena fighter guy;
• Violet Crumble Neutral female gnome rogue 1st, Ex-Sczarni

Yes, the chuckleheads named their characters after candy bars.

House Rules:

• Natural 20 automatically confirms a threatened critical hit barring extenuating circumstances that thwart critical hits
• 2 bonus skill ranks per level in Craft, Heal, Knowledge, Perform, Profession or Sleight of Hand to explain how the character earns a living
• 25 point buy; 20 point buy for the aasimar (the extra RPs come off the ability point buy)

1st Session

Being the character creation and 'getting to know each other' session for the players, we squeezed in the hook and sent the four PCs off to chase down leads in order to find the wayward N.Vencaskersin, take her stuff and optionally bring her in alive for some extra coin.

They go to the pesh junkie's fortune telling tent in the laundry and tailoring district of the city, Violet Crumble has to restrain herself not to sneak around the back, sap the man unconscious and take his stash of pesh. "I've never done pesh before, c'mooon, y'know you wanna..."

Once they pay the man his 15 gp, they go on their way to track down a rumor of Nidalese slavers operating on the sly out of an abandoned tavern in a run down section of the waterfront. They get in about 2 hours before midnight, scout the place out and prepare an ambush.

Violet Crumble situates herself in the rafters overhead. Snickers gets comfortable in the corner behind the front door. Abba-Zaba and Kit Kat crouch down behind the bar. And they wait.

Nearer to midnight Plutivarch Dremis approaches the tavern and notices the quiet rustling of three of the four PCs lurking inside of his tavern. He backs off a bit, pops off a mage armor, slides his wickedly curved dagger out of its sheath and downs a potion of invisibility. Plutivartch sneaks around the back - only Violet Crumble notices the chap sneaking into the tavern.

Violet blows her initiative check which lets Plutivarch zap Snickers and Abba-Zaba with his first color spray of the fight. Nappy nap time for Snickers!

The fight takes roughly 10 rounds, with the entire party chewing on their fingernails as only Snickers was not unconscious from the ensuing battery of color sprays. He needed a natural 14 to not get sent back to nappy-nap land again. Violet Crumble was a snoring crumpled heap on the tavern floor behind Plutovartch. Kit Kat was stretched out on the floor counting sheep. Abba-Zaba was 'resting his eyes'. Abba had managed to score a critical hit with his morning star (4 hp), Violet had skewered him with two sneak attacks from above, only to hate the man with a passion as he drank both a potion of cure moderate wounds and a potion of cure light wounds during the combat to keep standing before he plastered her with a color spray that kerplunked her face first into the floor.

Plutovartch fired five color sprays - exhausting his entire compliment of non cantrips - with his final attempt to subdue the PCs.

Snickers rolls a natural 17 on his Will save not to join the rest of the group in Nappy-Nap Land. Kit Kat was bemoaning the prospect of a TPK barely 2 hours into playing the campaign.

Needless to say, Snickers the Mighty - after fumbling his first attempt to take Plutovartch down - latched onto him like a pesh junky a day without a fix and throttled his sorry ass into Nappy-Nap Land.

Plutovartch was interrogated about the weekly abductions - the dummy promptly told them to ask the Watch, who were all too happy to fork over 100 gp for Plutovartch's nearly naked hide and tell them that the best lead they have ...

Would be learned at the beginning of the next session.

The PCs earned 600 xp in the 2 1/2 hours' meager game time actually played today. Stay tuned some time next month when the fearsome foursome once more do battle with [redacted].

I will be utterly amazed if there are not bodies piled in windrows all over the place in this AP.
*
In anticipation of corpsicles galore, here's the standard format.
*
*

Name:
Race:
Classes/levels:
Adventure:
Location:
Catalyst:
The Gory Details: (optional)

To put it simply, what would a 21st century Theodore Roosevelt be as a candidate for President of the United States?

It's pretty much coming as the New Yorkers can see here.

o7

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."

The Call of Cthulhu by H.P. Lovecraft

Get ready to board the crazy train ladies and gentlecritters. In these electronic pages over the coming months you will be regaled with tales of the trials, tribulations, hideous demises and sanity-shattering truths uncovered by this sorry band of investigative players through their hapless characters aboard the 1991 Call of Cthulhu 'mega-campaign' Horror on the Orient Express.

The preliminary investigations regarding matters of which Man Was Not Meant to Know is slated for 16th June 2012.

Investigators should number 4 or 5 per session, which are to occur once per calendar month. More often may strain the fragile minds of these players who, to the best of my knowledge, have never played "real" Call of Cthulhu.

I will be the humble Keeper relating the reports of these events to you the pulp-reading public.

Anyone taking bets on the SAN loss to accrue in the first session? :)

~squiggle~

Brother Faust

Just heard this on the radio.

The title says it all. :)

[/QUOTE="FAQ regarding rays and counting as weapons"]

Ray: Do rays count as weapons for the purpose of spells and effects that affect weapons?

Yes.

For example, a bard's inspire courage says it affects "weapon damage rolls," which is worded that way so don't try to add the bonus to a spell like fireball. However, rays are treated as weapons, whether they're from spells, a monster ability, a class ability, or some other source, so the inspire courage bonus applies to ray attack rolls and ray damage rolls.

The same rule applies to weapon-like spells such as flame blade, mage's sword, and spiritual weapon--effects that affect weapons work on these spells.

—Sean K Reynolds, 07/29/11

Bold emphasis is mine.

Vital Strike (and its desecendant feats) have been excluded from working with weapon-like spells according to a different FAQ. The question is, does Vital Strike work with innate ray attacks such as the Jabberwock's eye rays?

Why should the Adventure Paths get all the glory of corpses and tears?

Post your Pathfinder Modules Obituaries here!

<insert tombstone iconography here>

Name:
Race:
Classes/levels:
Adventure:
Location:
Catalyst:
The Gory Details: (optional)

I'm thinking there needs to be a thread for all the wacky, wonky and/or unusual or unanticipated armies that can be cobbled together with the Kingmaker Mass Combat rules.

Here's one I just put together to get things started:

Militia-Slaying Horde of Kittehs - CR 4

Gargantuan Army of 1,000 War-Trained Cats

hp: 12; DV 14; OM +4
Tactic: False Retreat

Speed: 3; Consumption 2; Morale +2
Special Ability: always treats opposing armies composed of NPC classed creatures as having been successfully ambushed.

Leader depends, although a(n) (Anti-)Paladin of Kittehs or a feline-obsessed Bard would be awfully appropriate. The more Charismatic, the better. :)

Preferred Strategy: executes false retreat on the ranged phase, taking advantage of their lack of ranged weapons. During the first melee phase, they shift either to an Aggressive strategy from Standard or immediately to a Reckless strategy depending upon their leader's capacity to rapidly signal the assault in combination with the false retreat.

• Aggressive Strategy, first melee phase = total OM +12 (damage bonus +3), DV 18
• Reckless Strategy, first melee phase = total OM +14 (damage bonus +6), DV 16

What other strangeness has any one else come up with?

I need my campaign setting, companion and modules subscriptions to be canceled due to my household's versions of "austerity measures" for the next several months.

If it is possible, could the items on my sidecart be added to my next shipment?

Regards,

Turin

For those who are unaware, but have Discovery Channel available to them, I recommend watching at 9 pm and 10 pm EST (or your equivalent time) tonight to send off Captain Phil Harris. At the young age of 53, he leaves an indelible impression on millions I hope.

A salute to Captain Phil! o7

Please cancel my Modules subscription. Carrion Hill was what I was waiting for! ^_^

Thanks very much,

Turin

Please cancel my Pathfinder Roleplaying Game, Pathfinder Chronicles and Pathfinder Companion subscriptions.

Thanks for the wonderful products in these lines up to now!

Regards,

Turin the Mad

Characters are generated on the 25 point buy with 175 gp starting wealth, 1 campaign trait and 2 "regular" traits gratis. Any one who chooses to play a tiefling has to select the pertinent campaign trait from the CoT Player's Guide.

I believe we have:

• A female half-elf Paladin
• A female fighter heading Eldritch Knight
• A (gender unknown, race unknown) Rogue heading Arcane Trickster
• The fifth character remains unknown at this time.

More info as it comes up!

What started with this innocent post by Doombunny about six weeks ago:

So the Cult of the Cathuggers and the Temple of the Doglovers have finally brought their war to Golarion. I've seen it all before.

An adventure designed for four 1st-level characters.

Started taking on its own life, possibly to poor Sir Ineptus' discombobulation.

To witness this typed up in a semi-delerium (by me):

"A 3-chapter adventure path in the making.

In Chapter 3 "Chimerae of Carnage" title changed to protect the innocent the very skies shake as the true horror of the agenda of the Cult of Clawthulhu is uncovered: merging all the canine and feline creatures of the Material Plane into new, subservient chimerae species. Will our heroes prevent the unspeakable horror as it spirals out of control, subverting hound archons, hellcats, dragonnes ... even a mighty gold dragon? Or will they become so much pet-kibble in the bowels of the Cult's hideout in dread New'weh?"

After which this exchange took place:

"Turin the Mad wrote:
Doombunny wrote:

A 3-Part Pawfinder Adventure Trail"

Then we had:

"JoelF847 wrote:
Yasha0006 wrote:
You guys are bringing back memories! Hahaha!

[me ==>]Ponies are in the rules, here and here. CR 1/2 eh? hmmmm ...."

Theeeen ...

"Turin the Mad wrote:
Back (kind of) on topic : who wants to see a "Pawfinder" again?

[Kassil ==>]For the lulz and the chance to prove to the world that reptile-kind can be just as mighty in this respect as any malodorous mammal, I will sign to this!"

And of course this just started the snowball of forumites made into antagonists to brutalize the gnome player characters:

"Turin the Mad wrote:
JoelF847 wrote:
Yasha0006 wrote:
You guys are bringing back memories! Hahaha!

[Kassil ==>]I would now have to second that this needs to be written, with forumgoers around here getting cameos as characters. Cats, dogs, rabbits, lizards, ponies, you name it!"

And one of the more recent postings:

"Balor wrote:
Anyone else out there remember the sagas of Miarow Tomokato?

[me ==>]Very much so Balor - why do you think I'm having to refrain from naming one of the places Katzat-Dum? ^_^"

And yes, I have all five (or six?) books featuring the trusty Samurai Cat, a certain tabby known as Miowaro Tomokato. Although his nephew Shiro is the (little, furry) man!

And thusly starts the Official Pawfinder Thread. :)

Flumphs apparently are OGL - where I have no idea - whilst Axiomatics (formerly known as Mo*dron*s) are not. Out of respect for the request by Charles Evans 25 I've podded ... er, started up this thread to open the topic in a more appropo locale. ^_^

I'd go for re-naming the polyhedral universal menaces as Geometrons or something.

Just sayin'...

Is it possible to sticky a thread (perhaps non-reply) explaining that subscriptions can be suspended - and later reactivated - as opposed to cancelled please?

Thanks in advance!

Sho I've been in, around and almost entirely inebriated in the mediocre little town of Brininford for ... I don't really remember quite how long, but a while.

I get along with most of the locals I sh'pose, 'though I don't remember most of their names. Lately I've been working out of the Baron's Inn as a bouncer/cook/medic in the evening hours in trade for some coin, a lice-free bed and chow. My placard of Cayden Caileen, the Ultimate Drunken Hero and Patron Gawd of Real Adventurers, has its place of honor adjacent to the fancy chamber pot with the seat built over it.

Jusht got done making up 'Drunn's Special Brew' for the party held in celebration of the other local bunch of adventurer types besides mine, paying handsomely for a couple of weeks' work. Gave me something to do while the pointy-ears of my drinking club/adventuring party extricated themselves from an intense legal battle. Seems there was a pimp-lawyer involved, explaining why she was convicted of anything at all.

I mean really, what else are wererats good for besides gamey meat and a supply of accessories? Fireball practice of course! Mosht unfortunate about the whole burning down a block of the warehouse district thing by one of the pointy-ears.

Well, sure enough, I'm all decked out with properly glittering bling - four rings on each hand and the really shpiffy crystal-encrusted silver-silk headband covering my phylactery - when the baron's daughter shows up in his stead as the Big Kahuna of the party.

Naturally, as the night wore on the ladies made their way to my superior partying presence. A little trio of rather homely blonde midgets with a fondness for pink and a matching set of pocket-sized "tea cup Yorkshire terriers". The ladies are Bambi, Barbie and Becky. The little yapping pocket snacks are Itsy, Bitsy and Mitsy. They sure could hold their liquor for a midget - they each downed a full pint!

We were hitting off nicely and I was thinking about my extreme good fortune in hooking up with a set of identical triplets - perhaps my beergoggles were rather thicker than normal. I do confess to the 3 midgets being rather remarkably homely with shockingly bright blonde hair and a distressingly profound fondess for pink and lace. A pleasantly feminine counterpoint to the longish cast of face and rather yappish-voiced. And the eeriness of hearing all three speak more or less in unison, drinking about the same...

Anyhoo, I'm doing my thing while the chow gets spread around, much drink is quaffed, much chow is devoured and everyone celebrates the heroes-of-the-month. Ricket the "ninja" and Dawnflower are the pointy-ears, standing off to one side munching carrots, sniffing granola, sipping fancy smancy wine and probably itching to go hug a tree after a few hours in human 'n' midget company. The lawyer was no where to be found - I guess he was off counting his fees or something.

Once the party wraps up, we're hanging out after the vee-aye-pee's have gone off to sleep or something, scarfing down fried chicken wings and swigging decent lager with a half-dozen still-conscious commoners in the main room, when things got entertaining... er, adventuresome!

Next thing I know a quartet of malevolent little winged stinger-tailed party crashers have come out of the rafters and gleefully engaged in skewering several of the locals with those vicious little stingers of theirs. I made one of them blind with a particularly noxious belch - mixing roast boar, lager, tarts and ranch-slathered veggies generates a nasty breath - and proceeded to pummel mightily with the mighty tankard of the Great Drunken Hero always at my belt. The trio of midgets-n-yap dawgs made herselves useful, peppering the diminuitive foes with pretty rainbow spells and whelmings and what not. Dawnflower webbed the entire chamber during the tussle before dismissing it so proper keister-kicking could be administered. Ricket did his wierd "ninja" stuff - and both of the pointy-ears wound up administering stabbity-death to two of the party crashers with some silvered steak knives and a fork.

Sadly, two of the locals were butchered by the malevolent little flying-stinging turdlings, but at least we crushed three of the quartet before the fourth one fled the scene.

Once the watch arrived, took the particular details down and ushered us off to a well-deserved rest - oh yeah, and we picked up a local flake with a serious mad-on for fiends and the slimy critter-thingies that live beneath sunlight soil. I like his enthusiam though, and he appreciates a good ale and a platter of tater skins appropriately.

At far FAR too early the next morning - what moron gives a public speech to the masses and me at 9 A.M. ?! - I had to get up, drink some more of the dawg that bit me to get back into functioning form. Sadly, one of the homely midget triplets wasn't around, but at least she took her yap-dawg with her, so breaking fast was fairly pleasant. Ricket and Dawnflower tagged along to the pronouncement of His Lordship's latest brainfartings.

Aye wound up with a pair of pink-clad blonde homely midgets on my shoulders to get a good view of the pronouncements. Dawnflower for some reason saw fit to sport a badge proclaiming her allegiance to the Pelorite church. Bah! Sunlight and bashing undead - there's MUCH more to adventuring than bashing undead! Bashing down doors, bashing gnolls in the 'nads, good old-fashioned bar brawls, drinking contests, impromptu singing and wenching are far more fulfilling aspects of an adventurer's careers. And sunlight is a bit rough before it has begun its proper place in the western sky.

Well, sure as Hades, His Lordship had to announce some draconian edicts and introduced a ginormous winged fiend-gargoyle-thing as one of his mini-onions, along with a small horde of much larger bony-carapaced scorpion-tailed mini-onions and a pack of slavering dawgs of Heck, among others I'm quite certain are beyong my admittedly limited powers of perception. Something about crushing the temples of Heironeous and Pelor 'neath hobnailed feet, reporting to militia barracks for 'civic duty', blah blah blah.

Needless to say, Dawnflower's symbol o' Pelor drew undesirable attentions. We had to rumble with a pair of the dawggies from Heck and a handler. We barely, collectively stomped the two Heck dawgs into the ground in the back end of an alley. Never did figure out who the handler was. I was down to orisons by the end of that scrap, and lemme tell you, the dawgs can just royally rain on a good time with a single whiney howl. Dawnflower said it was a "crushing despair" or something - all I know is I had a hard time kicking proper kiester for a little while.

We wound up this exhilerating 24 hour period camped out in Malfoy's lead-lined basement-scry shelter. Malfoy's the fun local flake with a fondness for tater skins I mentioned earlier. Think the lawyer is still lost - or mebbe signed up with the malicious midgets for all I know, don't know yet. Maybe Malfoy stuffed him in a tater sack and stuffed him in a corner in the basement to stay warm and safe.

Rather than burden ONE core class with a highly destructible, very expensive and increasingly-encumbering power source, why not just stipulate that Wizard's learn spells permanently?

In short, while bards and sorcerors cast their spells spontaneously from a small list of known spells, Wizards prepare their spells from the list of spells that they master as they progress in their craft.

Mechanically, this changes nothing in the function of the class while removing a too-easily-abused restriction that no other character has to endure.

Thoughts?

A spell permitting neither saving throw nor spell resistance, requiring only a ranged touch attack - or, in this case, a command phrase is a bit of a problem.

The berries seem to be poorly worded, although I am presuming that has already been covered in the Errata / Typos stickied thread.

Instead of Invisibility granting fixed Stealth bonuses and See Invisibility granting automatic countering of that bonus, why not make it a simple caster-level-based bonus?

Invisibility: + (caster level) bonus to Stealth rolls when moving, doubled when not moving.

See Invisibility: + (caster level x2) to Perception checks to perceive creatures hidden at least in part by invisibility.

Glitterdust: Imposes a penalty equal to (caster level x4) on Stealth checks for the duration of the spell.

Faerie Fire: Similar to glitterdust.

Based on another thread, from the following conversation:

I'm pro resistance, and against evasion.

Uncanny dodge protects against burst Rogue damage, where as evasion protects against lower AOE damage. Frankly a barbarian should have the HP pool to soak burst damage, and in character he is in the heat of battle as fireballs explode around him, not ducking and dodging. But he is also such a skilled combatant that no one can sneak up on him and stab him in the back.

Eehh - skilled is not the word mentally associated with barbarians outside of the game for me. And how else does one explain denying a rogue flanking other than by dodging, ducking and weaving?

No, if anything, the fighter is the skilled combatant by default, perhaps alongside the monk as a combatant of actual skill. Barbarians normally are the "hit them hard, make them fall down" types.

Of course, the concept of a skilled barbarian-fighter is why I hatched out the 'mindset' idea to begin with. Why on earth a barbarian ever acquired uncanny dodge has never been satisifactorily explained - so far - in a way that convinces me that the fighter shouldn't be the one getting the ability instead.

If we want to go with barbarians as "soakers of massive damage", why not grant them multiple Toughness feats instead of the ducking and weaving? I frankly find uncanny dodge and especially improved uncanny dodge to be rather unbalanced class features. The only ways around it are to paralyze or hold the character (which a steady diet of can generate harsh feelings PDQ) - all else being equal, the barbarian is +2 or greater than a fighter is to resist either effect from rage alone - so the only moderately reliable bypass is to Feint in combat, eating at least a move action to get ONE sneak attack in during a round. Hrm ... sounds like another thread topic ...

So, instead of having barbarians bouncing about the battlefield like rabbits on narcotics, ducking and weaving from rogues that are not 4+ levels higher than they are, how about having barbarians be the damage sponges?

DR/- piling up in windrows is perhaps not the best answer - past 5 or 6 points or so, they utterly ignore lesser creatures (and quite a few secondary natural weapon attacks from many dragons!) with impunity. Instead of uncanny dodge, improved uncanny dodge and trap sense, how about multiple Toughness feats?

This would translate into additional Toughness feats at levels 2, 3, 5, 6, 9, 12, 15 and 18 for a total of 8 Toughness feats at 18th level.

Ramifications: Total hp are presuming a reasonable 16 CON and averaged 6.5 hp per d12 HD. Rage is not factored in.

• 2nd level: additional 5 hp to the base of 12 +(d12 =7) +(2x CON bonus), resulting in 30 total hp.
• 3rd level: additional 12 hp plus normal total for 3d12 HD (=25) +(3x CON bonus =9), resulting in 46 total hp.
• 5th level: total hp of 12 +(4d12 =26) +(5x CON bonus =15) +9 +15, resulting in 77 total hp.
• 6th level: total hp of 12 +(5d12 =33) +(6x CON bonus =18) +12 +18, resulting in 93 total hp.
• 9th level: total hp of 12 +(8d12 =52) +(9x CON bonus =27) +15 +45, resulting in 151 total hp.
• 12th level: 12 +(11d12 =72) +(12x CON bonus =36) +18 +72, resulting in 210 total hp.
• 15th level: 12 +(14d12 =91) +(15x CON bonus =45) +21 +105, resulting in 274 total hp.
• 18th level: 12 +(17d12 =111) +(18x CON bonus =54) +24 +144, resulting in 345 total hp.

LOTS of hit points? Yep, sure is. Ignores rogues? not any more. Gets rid of a pretty much valueless class feature? Definitely.