Crowface's page

My advice (as was stated by another poster) would be to lead by positive example. Take those players you perceive as being marginalized under your wing. Go out of your way to include them in table talk, RP, tactical decisions, etc. as you would hopefully with ANY newcomer regardless of race, gender, whatever. Model the behavior you would like to see from the other players and you might be surprised by their reactions.

Until there is evidence to the contrary you must assume that these behaviors are unconscious or at worst a form of self-filtering. If it's self-filtering then A) that shows they are trying, albeit however poorly, not to offend and B) the best thing you can do is get them to focus on what they have in common with these new players -- most likely, the game -- rather than calling attention to the differences.

I think positive action is much preferable to quietly angsting and potentially projecting your own biases or ascribing intent when you cannot know the minds of the other players. Lead by example and you will both be showing support for the newcomers and perhaps proving the needed social cues the other guys need to "break the ice."

If you do that and the other players are still frosty or do something outright jerky, then you have an issue that should be addressed directly. But I really feel like jumping to conclusions prior to that is just going to make everyone defensive and lead to ugliness.

I often shop for 3PP pdfs here on Paizo to round out my campaign, and the first thing I look for on any product is Endzeitgeist's review. I always feel like I know what I'm getting based on your thorough reviews, and that is invaluable in helping me spend wisely. $1/month isn't much, but I had to contribute something.

Thanks so much for your good work and keep it up!

*A muscular Kellid in battered, mismatched gear sitting at the bar turns to join the conversation, one eyebrow raised quizzically.*

Trust? Is that what I heard someone say? They trusted the Torch? No wonder you got burned. Bah!

*Aegarn finishes the mug of beer in his hand and motions to the barkeep.*

Whiskey. Oldlaw, not that other crap.

*Aegarn scans the room, looking at the faces of his former brothers and sisters*

What a sad and naive bunch of Pathfinders we turned out to be, eh? We're all here in one way or another because we wouldn't buy what the Decimvirate was selling us. We all had more reason than most not to trust the lies and promises of the Ten. We swore we'd never be duped and manipulated into being their pawns again.

And what'd we go and do? Who did we turn to for leadership? The biggest gods-damned liar and manipulator the Society has ever seen! The Torch spun a pretty little tale about loyalty and the greater good, and we were oh so eager to believe him. We wanted so bad for something to believe in -- for some it was justice, for others vengeance -- that we made a deal with a devil. And now some of you sit around and act surprised when that devil ran off with your soul.

We got what we deserved.

*Aegarn throws his head back and swallows the shot of oldlaw in a single gulp, then stares for a long moment at the empty glass.*

I oughta thank Torch really. In the end he was the one that opened my eyes, that taught me the truth. Because now I get it. They're all the same. The Black Sovereign... Colson Maldris... Aram Zey... Sheila Heidmarch... Grandmaster Torch. All of 'em, all the same. They all want you to bend the knee, tow the line, and risk your neck in the name of "the cause." The cause, of course, being whatever bed-time story they can sell us so we'll do their dirty work for them. Liars, thieves, assassins. All of them. At least the Varisians aren't pretentious about the fact they're scoundrels and mercenaries...

I don't bend the knee for anybody. At least not since Azlant Ridge...

*Aegarn's voice trails off and he stares blankly for a moment before tossing a small bag of coins to the barkeep and whispers "Gimme the bottle."*

I'm tired of being a puppet on a string. So here's to you, Torch! *spits* Thank you, for opening my eyes. The only thing worth fighting for is what you can have and hold with your own two hands. At the end of the day your "philosophy" won't keep you warm at night out in the wilderness or put food in the belly of a starving child. The only justice I'll ever see is what I can take at the end of a blade. You gotta take control of your own life, before someone else does.

*Bottle in hand, Aegarn strides towards the door of the safehouse.*

I'm riding out in the morning on a caravan headed east to Mendev. My... cousin... here in Varisia says there's work out there for people like us. The kind of work that pays in cold, hard coin. I got my eye on a nice little villa back in Absalom. Maybe I can set myself up for early retirement with a few good jobs out there. If any of you guys want in on the action, let me know because it's now or never. All I know is I can't stand the stink here in Riddleport one day more.

*Aegarn takes a long pull off the bottle of Oldlaw, and wipes his chin with the back of his sleeve. His brow furrows as he looks back across the room.*

Last one of you that leaves, be sure to turn out the damn light!

*Aegarn turns to leave, but stops as soon as his hand touches the door. His shoulders slump as he lets out a long sigh.*

Take care of yourselves out there, brothers and sisters. Because nobody else will.