Once your fire is lit, you find greenery to throw on it, creating a nice smokey signal rising into the air. Minutes go by. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. An hour later and nothing has happened. Nobody has arrived. Yazhi senses nobody. Ter, high in the sky, does not see anybody approaching. Or even moving.
GM rolls:
"Well, friend," Alden says with a rye smile. "I am an exile from my terrible family, for sure. Their Sihedron cult requires them to keep lore secret, bound up in cords of silence and darkness. They will take whatever knowledge you bring, in order to 'keep it safe' and never let it see the light of day again." GM rolls:
"My brother was sent by my Aunt Zi to find what the Order of Resplendence had learned and found in Roderic's Cove and return it for 'safekeeping.' My mentor, Mistress Corstela Rostrata had discovered an ancient Thassilonian relic. A magical rapier, invisible to all eyes, but deadly and puissant nonetheless. They murdered her and took it. From what little I've seen and heard, I think the Keleshite has it. I heard them telling the Guard Captain in the Cove that they had massacred every last one of my wonderful, intelligent, truth-seeking philosophers. Never again will their knowledge grace Golarion again." GM rolls:
"I was sent to discover what our dwarven archeologist had found at the Underflume ruins. He'd been working there for quite some time. He told us he was close to discovering something. He had found a vault, but wasn't able to open it. 'Yet,' he said." GM rolls:
"When I arrived at the Underflume, the nearby goblin tribe was entirely dead. Not a single poor creature had survived the blades of my brother and his 'adventurers.' Don't get me wrong. That tribe of goblins... well, they caused the Cove trouble. And merchants along the Lost Road were unsafe. Nasty bunch, really. But, eradicated? The stench of their tribe's rotting corpses could be smelled on the wind." GM rolls:
"At the Underflume my brother and his cutthroats came up from the ruins alone, smiling and joking at the great find they had made. And they were covered in blood. The bandits the Order had contracted with to guard the Underflume while we explored it... well, their kindly mother-leader told me all of them, all of her 'children,' had sacrificed their lives below the surface. Her beloved starlight would never shine on them again, she said." GM rolls:
"We attacked Frantino and his killers, of course. But they bested us and nearly killed me. But my brother spared my life, intent on bringing me back for torture by Aunt Zi and her Sihedron 'Council.'" GM rolls:
"Don't let my knowledge, the knowledge the Order of Resplendence fought so hard to uncover, the learnings of ancient Thassilon, be suppressed by my mother and her Reapers. Help me get free once we're in Magnimar and I shall share my knowledge. The more people know, the less likely it is that ancient Thassilon will be forgotten." GM rolls:
[dice=Knowledge Religion]1d20+10 Silence, reapers, secrets and secret councils all seem reminiscent of the Reaper of Reputation, the keeper and god of secrets... Norgorber. Ezranadir doesn't know much more than the words associated with this secretive cult.
[dice=Cha check to avoid Int/Cha decrease]1d20+4
By the time Frantino hears the little girl talking to her mother, they are already looking at one of the posters Doc has put up around the market.
"That's the bird that likes brandy! Mommy said the bird is too much like Daddy, sitting around in the tavern all day, instead of fishing like he suppos' to." The mother looks embarrassed at this and shushes her daughter. "Yes, there's a falcon that sits on the bar at Cracktooth's and drinks blackberry brandy. It is having a hard time standing up. Cracktooth just keeps pouring it drinks."
As word gets out in town, the streets line with people. They stare at the body of the cambion, Kantulin, horrified. Some throw things at the body. Others rush out and put garlands of flowers and other tokens around Doc's neck. "Bless you, Doc!" "You've saved us, Doc!" "Doc, do you have time to look at my bunion?"
Time to level. To quote the famed Absalom personality, O'prah, "YOU get a level. And YOU get a level. EVERYBODY gets a level!" Fifth level, people.
The tension is relieved by Doc Hatfield puttering about, tending to the Horned Fangs. "Ha! He sounds like my auntie," she laughs and says to Nasir. "Is Doc always like this?" Hadrien and Bren roll their eyes, having some experience with Gregory Hatfield, already.
Mozamer smells the upcoming bile, before he actually sees it. Oh no. Is she gonna...? Oh by Yamasoth SHE IS! <BLERGGG> Chunks fall from Mozamer's face. He starts retching, in response. <BLERRRGGG!> Luckily, Ayita is able to dodge! "I wish I was a ranger, so that Shoanti (female) could be my favored enemy," Mozamer shouts.
Mozamer, like all villains, has taken some time arriving at his point. "On your way down here, you ended up killing many. And for what? Because you hated the way they looked. What they stood for. What they did for a living. You killed them all... out of sheer wrath. Perhaps you have a place at my Lady’s side? Join me, and we’ll take this town in a direction those other fools would never have been capable of. Alaznist will be pleased to see you help me raise an army before she takes back what she has lost." And, for good measure, Mozamer laughs, "MWAHAHAHA!"
Lullaby winces as her vomit hits the floor of the Armory's underground hallway and, mixing with the puddles of blood, splashes back upwards into her eye. "Oh for f%*@'s sake, Lullaby! Get a grip!" says Siona, stepping around the pool of blood and now vomit. "So sorry if seeing Jerm's lifeless eyes staring up from his murdered body discomforts me. Yer heartless, Siona," the ascendant Roadkeeper lieutenant snaps back. "And look at Dolland, and Herv, and Sermant, and Mykal. My gods. Those f~~@ers up there really chopped their way through the entire family." Lullaby wipes her mouth on the back of her sleeve and rubs her eye clear of the splashed blood and her own stomach acid. Siona looks down the southern hallway while Lullaby mourns the ruthless massacre of all her friends (?). More like colleagues. Soldiers in her gang. Siona returns. "They destroyed Sharlise. Or whatever Sharlise was now. Gear parts are all over the hallways down that way," says Siona. "No bloody tracks up thattaway, though. I bet they came from there first. From the teleport room. And then slaughtered everybody who prevented them from stealing all of Dolland's stuff." "Looks like they robbed the corpses, too," says Lullaby. "Gods. Merciless." "You'd do it, too, Lullaby," shoots Siona back at the bard. "Shit, you HAVE done it. So don't act shocked that a better gang of murderers finally came through." Lullaby thinks for a bit. "If they came from the teleport room, they figured out how to get through the ambassador room's wall of force. Like the goblin witch did, earlier." "Yer cold, ya know?" says Siona. "Once you found that out from the gobbo, you shoulda told Dolland and Mother Nightthrush that it was possible. Look what happened. Dolland and Nightthrush got aced. Mission accomplished. But there ain't no gang for you to take over anymore!" "F+#*. Yeah. I made a mistake. C'mon. Let's go," says Lullaby, shaking her head. "They've probably left by now. No reason for them to come back down here. Unless they're going to steal the boots off Dolland here." The two women grab a few things and pack them in a spare backpack that the bloodthirsty adventurers missed. Siona moves up the stairs Lullaby slips into Dolland's lab, looking for any remaining items. Damn. They took everything, she thinks after examining the utterly cleared lab. She grabs takes some rations from Dolland's room and a wine sack. She starts towards the stairs with a final glance at the corpse of the dwarven alchemist. As she climbs the first flight of stairs she finds Siona racing back down, utterly quiet in her soft leather forester's moccasins. Siona has a worried look on her face. She points upwards and then shakes her head. "They're coming. Can't go that way," she whispers. The two quickly and quietly move back through the abattoir of their former friends, racing together to the teleport room. Lullaby goes through first, followed by Siona. Emerging in the Ambassador's Room, Lullably wants to tell Siona how helpful she is, but is instead compelled to be more honest, "If you hadn't tried to shoot them all to death, maybe they wouldn't have followed us. I blame you." Siona looks at her. "I was double-crossing you with Dolland. We planned on killing you first." F*@%ing Ambassador Room, thinks Siona. "I don't trust you to go through the wall of force first, so I'll kill you if you try it," says Lullaby, forced into honesty. "But if you push me through first, I'll help pull you through afterwards." Siona thinks, She can't lie in here. So, guess this is how it’s gonna go. "OK. Hurry. How does it work?" Lullaby wracks her brain. "The goblin witch said she zapped it with a lightning bolt and it was weakened enough to allow her through. I ain't got that power, but let's just whack at it." The two begin attacking the glowing wall. Eventually they seem to weaken it. "OK, here I go," Lullaby says. She takes a running start and points her arms together like she's about to dive into a river. <BLUBB> Lullaby's arms go through, as do her shoulders. When she gets to her hips she has a harder time. "F#*$! I'm stuck! Push me through." "Ha! It's your fat ass, Lullaby! If you didn't eat so many of the blackberry tarts, you wouldn't be stuck," quips Siona, staring. If vicious killers weren't about to kill them both, she'd laugh at the scene: Lullaby, halfway through the glowing wall, suspended. Her ass sticking out of the blue wall and her feet wiggling around as she tries to squeeze all the way through. Siona grimaces and rushes into Lullaby's posterior, throwing her shoulder into the bard's buttocks, shoving as hard as she can. BO-WOOP! Suddenly, the Bloodthirsty Keleshite is in the room. Siona looks back. A grin seems to crease his evil face when he sees the situation. Siona isn't sure if it’s his inborn Keleshite love of murder or just amusement at what is, admittedly, a hilarious scene. Either way... She shoves and Lullaby pops through to the other side. Siona turns and grabs her longsword. "DIE, F~$!ER!" she screams as she attacks one last, desperate time.
Happy New Year, to all! Wishing everybody a successful year with no TPKs in the vault room. Oh, errr— did I say that out loud? Ignore.
We are working on it. I found out about this myself only yesterday, but I checked with folks above me in the chain and they already knew and were working on solutions. I know this is a hassle, but I really appreciate your patience. We got you fam. OMG! This is good to hear. My group wants to play it via VTT and... it is unusable on Roll20, as is. @Jason How will it be announced? Email to all owners? DM? This thread?
What on earth is going on with the PDF maps in this volume? I'm supposed to knit them all together in a graphics program before putting them on Roll20? WTH!
"Well, hello mah fellow Pathfinders," cries the man, as he raises his mug of ale high in greeting. Despite the sudden movement, he does not spill a drop. Not that any ale would stand out on his completely black ensemble. A sheathed blade (a rapier, it appears) hangs from the back of his chair and a red cloak is thrown over the adjacent chair. The blackhaired, black clad man gestures at the table, inviting you to sit. "Eye am zuh Black, as you can see by mah beautiful hair and breathtaking fashion choices, honh honh," he laughs in an Andoren accent. He points to the nearby red cloak. "Do you like mah latest wardrobe addition? She was <ahem> not wearing eet, and ah had to hastily put zumtheeng on and make a kweek exit when her beau returned unexpectedly!" He laughs and winks as he says this. "Perhaps ah will call mahself zuh 'Black and Red' from now on!"
As the airlock shuts again and begins to cycle, The Analog Affair looks at DuQuesne. "It appears that our fellow Starfinders are engaging Oshessa alone. From the sound of it, things are not going well." He frowns slightly. "I believe this is no longer an investigative affair and is now a more... analog affair. Hah. Must remember that for my next performative hilarity routine," he says, his affectless face looking at DuQuesne. "Perhaps it is time to engage my violence subroutines." /activate violence subroutines ...processing ...processing ... subroutines error error error anomaly anomaly subr%%%ines over%%ri%%e error err%% er%%r zkzhhhdhdsssssskdkdkd*&#^%#% Oh shut up, you machine t%~+. You wanted violence "subroutines", you got 'em! The Analog Affair's head tilts, his mechanical irises cycle, and his mouth twitches just slightly upward into... a grin? The underwater machine gun, hanging from his shoulder on its action sling, suddenly EXPLODES upwards, aimed at the halfling in the airlock. The Analog Affair opens his mouth and screams
He drops the muzzle of the machine gun slightly, perplexed. "BY ASMODEUS' TAINT, WHO THE F**& ARE YOU? YOU AIN'T ON THE LADY'S LIST! WHERE'S THE FISHY-SMELLING WALRUS PRIESTESS OF ZON-KUTHON? GOES BY THE NAME 'OSHESSA!" He looks around at the water cycling in the airlock.
Thanks! I wanted to bring my animal companions with me, but... one's too old to play wolf and the other isn't quite the tiger she thinks she is. That gives me an idea for a PF2 character with a big, dangerous, brutish animal companion named... "Trixie."
I'm going horseback camping with the family in the Sierra Nevadas tomorrow (channeling my inner Ranger). Back Sunday. I'll check in on the road tomorrow. But after that... GM: Please 'bot Kelvor. His normal attacks are in his profile line. His Enlarged dice expressions are in the Bot instructions in his profile, as are dice expressions for Enlarged+Hasted attacks.
Interesting, but personally I tend to dislike books for a single character, especially to write in - seems like sacrilege to do so. Plus, a new character then requires a new book to be bought. I have to agree. A single book per character? I'd MUCH rather see a treatment of the APs.
Boosting my AC is always welcome. It is only AC25. Currently have +1 nat armor bonus. Enemy Insight sounds GREAT.
Guard Captain Freson's eyes roll. She is, after all, a small town's guard captain, not a big city police captain, well-versed in all of the laws of the city-state. "Well, clearly ya got more experience with the lawyerin' than I do. Here-bouts we simply give the dead persons stuff to their next a'kin." She grimaces grudgingly and says, "I know res-rekshuns are a thing. But, out here on the Lost Coast, The Grey Lady just wants us to be born, live, die, like most folks." "And lastly, Walfrenden of Axis, you been here long 'nough to know full well how we feel 'bout them pirates in Riddleport. Sir Roderic fought them off his entire life and he and his were killed 'fore the very eyes of the Covers by Riddleport pirates. The people here-bout learn you gave Sir Roderic's things to RIDDLEPORT? Well, Keela and I may be off fishin' when that bit of civic unrest happens, ya understand? Why, ten years ago a Cove mob ran the old Port-Governor, Jess Gildersleeves" <PTEW!> "outta town. She was skimmin' gold from the town's payments. Stealin' from us. She and her daughter were lucky to escape alive. An where'd they go? Back to RIDDLEPORT." <PTEW!> Keela clears her through and shifts uncomfortably. Captain Freson gets the hint and settles down. "He doesn't have any heirs. 'Finders keepers' we say. Thanks for askin'," say Freson. "Although... Larenza, the Port Governor, would 'preciate right of first refusal before ya sell anything."
Walf cannot think of any situation where "Honored Lady" would have some special religious connection, or even a planar connection.
The Analog Affair examines the efficient bandolier carefully. He dons it, loading his ammunition into it. He programs the things AI to interface with his own neural net and then prioritizes ammunition disbursement in line with his usage in normal (that is to say, violent) situations. He also grabs the underwater machine gun, temporarily slinging his own machine gun in favor of the more efficient Kalo model.
The locket is a small piece of golden jewelry, not the most delicate of things, nor the greatest work of craftsmanship EVER, but still lovely and precious, nonetheless. It opens to show a portrait of a young woman. Raven-haired, kind features, with a smile unusual in portraiture of the olden days. You imagine it is, therefore, of newer make. Within the last 20 years. Knowledge (local) DC15 (DC13 if you were raised in the Cove): The portrait looks a lot like Julit Freson, the guard captain of Roderic's Cove, but the features are gentler than hers. Perhaps a relative? For lifelong Covers, it reminds you of her mother, Caralee.
It once held a rapier. Whoever stored it in the case didn't want anybody scrying its location, or so he assumes from the lead lining. The painting of the vessel was not damaged by a rapier, nor by any sort of sword, he thinks. The damage is too jagged.
"Now that's just not true, Ms. Berrythwaite. I'm a very nice person. No anger issues, really. Well, I mean, not much. OK, just a bit. But THEY WERE DEMONS!" Kelvor turns to the barbarians, "Well met, fellows. I am Kelvor of the Shundar-Quah. I'm really a very nice guy. Very sorry about the T-rex. Shall we help you track it?"
The Analog Affair checks his kit, his ammunition store, the action on both his semi-automatic pistols, the firing mechanism on the squad machine gun, charge level on his jump jets, and his new swim fin augmentations. "All is in working order," he says to those around him. "Because we are waiting and my sensors indicate a level of tension 'in the air,' as they say, I will practice my Dispenser of Hilarity profession to lighten the mood for the team." The Analog Affair stands up (all good Dispensers of Hilarity do 'Stand Up') and begins in a terribly monotone, affectless voice, "An android walks into a bar. The human bartender says, 'We don't serve androids.' The android replies, 'Not yet.'" The Analog Affair ceases speaking. <silence> "Perhaps you did not understand the 'gag'. Let me explain. It is a Class-B5 (subcategory: AI domination/biologicals only) joke deriving it's humor potential from biologicals' fear of artificially-created life's potential to surpass and dominate non-artifically-created life." "Too soon since androids were given rights in the Pact Worlds?" "Perhaps another one..."
Another mission for the Starfinder Society... CONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE TRANSMITTED TO VENTURE CAPTAIN FITCH. The doors open with a soft susurration of servos and air and in walks an android wearing burned and scratched Vesk brigandine armor, two semi-auto pistols slung low on his hips in tanned animal skin holsters. A well-maintained squad machine gun is slung over his back. He scans the room, recognizing Hellih as another android, Dr. Duquesne, the halfling, and Zarg, the vesk. "Greetings. I assume Venture Captain Fitch is tardy. Is this the entire team?" Perhaps it is an Infiltration Mission, requiring a minimal team. "I am The Analog Affair-12. I am the twelfth iteration of this chassis. My role within the typical Starfinder Society mission is dispensing of violence. I am also capable of offering Hilarity upon command to lighten the mood. Please disregard the symbol of Besmara painted upon my right-side facial structure. The previous iteration of this chassis was a worshipper. I am not associated with that religion." "Please excuse any anomalous behavior during times of extreme violence. My violence subroutines are experiencing periodic glitches that do not impact overall function." "It. Is. A. Pleasure. To. Meet. You." I hope I did that correctly. The New Iteration Social Cue and Integration blog (Entry 444538jjdh87776X) was not specific on delivery style of said social greetings. Perhaps the addition of a smile... The Analog Affair's face warps into a rictus of a smile, horrible to behold, awkward and strange and too long. Too much teeth, lips pulled back like a startled felinoid, and cheeks lifted in a weird performance of happiness. Oh yes. That worked. Definitely.
Date: XX-XX-XXXX AG Chassis update: all chassis systems functioning at full capacity. Upgraded Mk 2 synaptic accelerator integrated and operating successfully. Jump jet upgrade moved to chassis from armor. Armor Loss/Removal risk factor now decreased by 32.567789%. OS update: Targeting functionality improved after last incremental upgrade. Increased damage potential from better aim confirmed by post-action data review. OS update (2) **CRITICAL**: Forty-seventh violence subroutine debugging NOT SUCCESSFUL. Anomalous behavior during high stress-violence still reported by third parties. Self-made memory stores unavailable for "black out" periods. Recommendation: seek mystical assessment (and possible debugging) of malfunctioning violence subroutines. NOTE: search terms upon reconnection with Absalom Station and PharasmNet datanets "exorcism," "haunt," "spirit," "possession," and "psychopomp." Seek faction assistance in accessing Lorespire Complex pre-Gap data archives: search terms "The Black," "Andoran." Also, "murderhobo." Miscellaneous Updates: Fifteenth quarry apprehended and returned for bounty. Comment: buy more medium and/or large-sized waste containment bags for catastrophically defunctioned targets. Consider purchasing extra-dimensional holding option for non-functional quarries. Also useful for still-functional quarries, although functional status non-relevant in majority of apprehension missions. Also, buy cleaning supplies to address reported post-action olfactory issues. Kit review: Squad machine gun functioning at full capacity. Burning weapon seal not useful, as of yet. Predicted purchase value to be reassessed. Grenadier bracket and grenade option not missed. Assessment: wisdom of grenade offensive capability downgrade - successful. Anticipated additional cost of grenades recovered and put towards future armor upgrades. Profession update: Known quality among Starfinder Acquisitive's faction resulting in more jobs and higher paying jobs within Bounty Hunter domain. Reputation accrual satisfactory. Profession update (2): Comedian-Dispenser of Hilarity Jobs rare. Professional strategy (version 4.5) to be reassessed and more open-mic nights in the Downlow planned. NOTE: jokes about biological reproductive habits difficult to master. Differences in joke acceptability ratios noted from one "gig" to another. Also, within each gig, from sentient to sentient. NOTE: job locations dispensing intoxicants have higher ratio of laughs/joke. New strategy: seek out drug dens, opiod bars, direct-VR stimulant shops for better results.
the enraged Shoanti screams. He chases down the retreating villain, his anger and rage powering his legs as he follows. With a leap, almost as if he were in a computer simulation of life, where all badass scenes are in slow motion, he jumps and fliiiiiieeees through the air and brings his earthbreaker down on the skull of Vernisant!
Kelvor ducks the lion's grip, its claws carving bloody grooves in his face and shoulder. He WHIPS his head around, blood flying off his face as he looks at Vernisant. ”How DARE you!” shouts the Shoanti, his fury bubbling up. Cascading blood down his already burn-scarred face makes him look like a Nidalese nightmare, his mouth peeled back, opened in a ROAR! Bloody spittle flies across Vernisant and his lion mount.
With. One. Furious. Swing. After. Another, Kelvor of the Shundar-Quah brings his monstrous earthbreaker crashing down on Vernisant’s longsword. With each blow, he screams, ”HOW!”
”...DARE!”
Grab attempt: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (10) + 20 = 30 and the lion grapples Kelvor! I believe the grapple fails. The luck bonuses and the dodge bonus from haste increase my CMD to 34.
"Primrose Montajay, but most folks just call me Prim," she explains. "Nice to meetcha!" SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE "Nice to meet you, too!" says the man to the halfling. He looks at Ysh and Primrose. "You can call me whatever you want. Jay. Bob. Though I'm not really the silent type. Joe. Whatever. Normally, I'm just The Specialist." "Venture Captain Arvin has been calling me in when he needs... things done. I'm good at what I do. But what I do isn't always good. So long as it pays and the sun keeps shining on my face, it's allllll fine. Positive thoughts are the key, ya know?" He unslings his customized huchket rifle and checks the sights and its action. All good, he reslings it. If anybody's looking, they may notice the words "Positive Thinking" in Sarcesian burned into the stock of the weapon.
Walfrenden: Attack. You haveNOT posted for Round Four. That’s a mistake/legacy on my part from last round.
Kelvor watches, amazed, as his body grows and grows. Or is it that the others are shrinking? Regardless, he moves closer to Petra and swings his now very, VERY large earthbreaker at the golem! IMPROVED CRIT THREAT!
Crit effect: Weapon Material Master (cold iron):
When you score a critical hit against a target benefiting from spells that grant temporary hit points or bonuses to AC, ability scores, attack rolls, damage rolls, or saving throws, you must immediately attempt a special dispel check (1d20 + your base attack bonus) as a targeted dispel as per the dispel magic spell, but targeting only those spells. Once a creature has been the target of this effect, you can’t affect it in this way again for 24 hours. IS THE GOLEM BUFFED?
"I agree! Back up into one of the room, so only one can come at us, squeezing through a small door!" shouts Kelvor.
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