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DM's Guild has a lot of really good NPC books (if you can find them). There's even ONE with pre-maade entire adventuring parties to oppose the PC's.
HawaiiSteveO's advice about the guides, both of them, are precisely what I was going to offer. But when I started reading the guide I too decided SKT was a great toolbox of setting lore and encounters I can lift out and mix and match with my own adventures. But just thinking of running it as it-is gives me a headache, sadly.
Table of contents doesn't truly show a total number because it has a single entry for "dragons" for example, but there are actually six dragons under that heading. TOC: A Aboleth, Nihileth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 What is Void Speech?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Abominable Beauty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Accursed Defiler. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Ala . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Algorith. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Alseid. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Amphiptere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Andrenjinyi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Angatra. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Angel, Chained . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .20 Angel, Fidele . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Angler Worm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .22 Ant, Giant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Anubian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24 Arboreal Grappler . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Aridni . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .26 Asanbosam. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Azza Gremlin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 B Baba Yaga’s Horsemen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .29 Bagiennik. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Bastet Temple Cat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 What is Nurian?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Bearfolk. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .33 Behtu. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Beli. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Bereginyas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 Blemmyes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Boloti. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 Bone Collective. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Bone Crab. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Bone Swarm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Boreas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .42 Bouda . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .44 Broodiken. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 Bucca. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .46 Bukavac. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Buraq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .48 Burrowling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .49 C Cactid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 Cambium. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 Carrion Beetle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Cavelight Moss. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 Chelicerae. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 Chernomoi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 Child of the Briar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56 Chronalmental. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 Cikavak. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58 Clockwork Abomination . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 Clockwork Beetle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .60 Clockwork Beetle Swarm. . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 Clockwork Hound. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .62 Clockwork Huntsman. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63 Clockwork Myrmidon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .64 Clockwork Watchman. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 Clockwork Weaving Spider. . . . . . . . . . . .66 Cobbleswarm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .68 Corpse Mound . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .69 D Dau. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .70 Death Butterfly Swarm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Deathwisp . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 Deep Ones . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 Demons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 Demon Lords . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Derro Fetal Savant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .92 Derro Shadow Antipaladin. . . . . . . . . . . . 93 Arch-Devils . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .94 Devils . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .102 Dinosaur, Mbielu. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114 Dinosaur, Ngobou. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115 Dinosaur, Spinosaurus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116 Dipsa. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 118 Dissimortuum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119 Dogmole. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .120 Dogmole Juggernaut. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121 Domovoi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .122 Doppelrat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123 Dorreq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .124 Dragons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125 Dragon Eel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .146 Dragonleaf Tree . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147 Drakes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .148 What is Umbral?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153 Drakon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157 Dream Eater . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158 Drowned Maiden. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159 Dryad, Duskthorn . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .160 Dullahan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161 Dune Mimic. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .162 E Eala . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163 Eater of Dust. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .164 Edimmu. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165 Eel Hound . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .166 Einherjar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167 Eleinomae . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168 Elemental Locus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .169 Elves, Shadow Fey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .170 Emerald Eye. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175 Empty Cloak. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176 Eonic Drifter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177 Erina . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178 F Far Darrig. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179 Fate Eater. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .180 Fear Smith (Fiarsídhe). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181 Fellforged. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182 Fext . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183 Fey Lords and Ladies. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .184 Feyward Tree. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200 Firebird. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .201 Firegeist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202 Flutterflesh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .203 Folk of Leng. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204 Forest Marauder. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .205 Fraughashar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 206 Frostveil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .207 G Garroter Crab. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208 Gbahali . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209 Gearforged Templar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .210 Genie, Al-Aeshma. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211 Gerridae . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .212 Ghouls. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213 Giants . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .222 Glass Gator . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .228 Gnarljak . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .229 Gnoll, Havoc Runner. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .230 Goat-Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231 Goblin, Dust . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .232 Golem, Eye. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233 Golem, Hoard. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .234 Golem, Salt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235 Golem, Smaragdine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .236 Golem, Steam. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237 Gray Thirster . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 238 Gremlin, Rum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .239 Grim Jester. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240 Gug . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .241 H Hag, Blood. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242 Hag, Mirror. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .243 Hag, Red. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 244 Hag, Sand . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .245 Harpy, Owl. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246 Haugbui . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .247 Herald of Blood. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .248 Herald of Darkness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249 Horakh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .250 Hound of the Night. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251 Hulking Whelp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .252 Hundun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253 I Ice Maiden. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .254 Idolic Deity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255 Imy-ut Ushabti . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .256 Isonade. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257 J Jaculus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 258 K Kalke. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .259 Kikimora. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .260 Kobolds. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .261 Kongamato . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .265 Koschei. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266 Kot Bayun. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .268 Krake Spawn. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269 L Lantern Dragonette. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .270 Lemurfolk (Kaguani). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271 Leshy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .272 Library Automaton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273 Lich Hound. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .274 Likho. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275 Lindwurm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .276 Liosalfar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277 Living Wick . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .278 Lorelei. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .279 Loxoda . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280 M Mahoru. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281 Mallqui. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .282 Malphas (Storm Crow). . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283 Mamura . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .284 Mask Wight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 285 Mavka. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .286 Mi-Go. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .287 Millitaur. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .288 Mimic, Map. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .289 Mindrot Thrall. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 290 Mirager. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .291 Miremal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .292 Mngwa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .293 Monolith Champion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 294 Monolith Footman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .295 Mordant Snare . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 296 Morphoi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .297 Moss Lurker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .298 Mummy, Venomous. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 299 Myconid, Deathcap. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 300 Myling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .301 N Naina. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .302 Nichny. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .303 Nightgarm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .304 Nkosi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .306 Noctiny. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .308 O Oculo Swarm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .309 Oozasis. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .310 Ooze, Corrupting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 311 Ostinato . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 312 P & Q Pombero. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 313 Possessed Pillar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 314 Putrid Haunt. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 315 Qwyllion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 316 R Ramag. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 317 Rat King . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 318 Ratatosk. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319 Ratfolk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .320 Ravenala. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 321 Ravenfolk. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .322 Redcap. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325 Rift Swine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .326 Rime Worm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327 Risen Reaver . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328 Roachling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .329 Rotting Wind. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .330 Rusalka. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 331 S Sand Silhouette. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 332 Sandman. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333 Sandwyrm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 334 Sap Demon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 335 Sarcophagus Slime. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336 Sathaq Worm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337 Savager . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 338 Scheznyki. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 339 Scorpion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 340 Selang . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341 Serpopard. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .342 Shabti. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 343 Shadhavar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .344 Shadow Beast. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345 Shellycoat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .346 Shoggoth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 347 Shroud. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .348 Skein Witch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .349 Skeleton, Sharkjaw. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 350 Skeleton, Vine Troll . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 351 Skitterhaunt. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 352 Slow Storm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 353 Snakes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 354 Son of Fenris . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355 Soul Eater. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 356 Spark. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 357 Spectral Guardian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 358 Sphinx, Gypsosphinx . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359 Spiders. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361 Spider of Leng. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 365 Spider Thief . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .366 Spire Walker. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 367 Star-Spawn of Cthulhu. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368 Stryx . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .369 Stuhac. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .370 Subek. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 371 Suturefly. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 372 Swarm, Fire Dancers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373 Swarm, Manabane Scarabs . . . . . . . . . . 374 Swarm, Prismatic Beetles. . . . . . . . . . . . 375 Swarm, Sluagh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 376 Swarm, Wolf Spirits. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377 T Temple Dog. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 378 Theullai. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 379 Titan, Ancient. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .380 Titan, Degenerate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 381 Titanoboa. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 382 Tophet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 383 Tosculi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .384 Treacle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 387 Treant, Weeping. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 388 Troll, Lake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .389 Trollkin Reaver. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .390 Tusked Skyfish. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 391 U Uraeus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .392 Urochar (Strangling Watcher). . . . . . . . 393 Ushabti. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .394 V Vættir. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 395 Valkyrie. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .396 Vampire, Umbral . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 397 Vapor Lynx. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .398 Vesiculosa. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .399 Vila. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400 Vile Barber . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .401 Vine Lord . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 402 Voidling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 404 W Wampus Cat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .405 Water Leaper. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 406 Wharfling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 407 White Ape. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 408 Witchlight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 409 Wormhearted Suffragan. . . . . . . . . . . . .410 X & Y Xanka . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 411 Xhkarsh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .412 Ychen Bannog. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413 Z Zaratan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .414 Zimwi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 415 Zmey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .416 Appendices Appendix A: Villain Codex. . . . . . . . . . .418 Appendix B: NPC Features. . . . . . . . . . .427 Appendix C: Monsters by Challenge Rating. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .428 Open Game License Version 1.0a. . . . .430
The biggest thing I discovered in my home conversions is that re-skinning is really your friend. The more I look at Pathfinder monsters these days, all the number-crunching stuff for 3/4 of the sta t block is generically interchangeable. It's the bizarre and nifty Powers at the bottom like exceptional and spell-like abilities. Take daemons. No real presence in 5E. So when I needed one, I took the numbers of a 5E demon and just grabbed the text of the special abilities of the Pathfinder version and translated it to 5E. Pretty easy to do. Then changed the alignment to NE and bam. From the PF Goezspall in Feast of Dust: Scalding Spray (Ex) As a standard action once every
"5E-ized": Scalding Spray (Recharge 4-6) A goezspall can spray a 60-foot line of scalding water at its enemies. Any who fail on a DC 16 Strength saving throw take 12d6 fire damage and are knocked prone. A successful save means half damage and the creature is not knocked prone.
Basics: Use a clear layout and font people can read.
:-)
In 36 years of playing this game I've had a share of disappointing players that had to get booted but nothing like I've read here. Humorously tragic was the two player parents who would bring their 2 & 3 year-old kids then let them run loose with no supervision. We found a peanut butter sandwich in the VCR, juice drinks poured into air vents, and the joy the kids had when they found "a little sandbox - WITH tootsie rolls inside"! When the parents found them there, it was classic. (For the Captain Obvious reference: yes, we have multiple cats.)
I’d like to think so! My wife and I have entered into the foray of DM’s Guild. The lesson I learned as a DM long ago was 1) never underestimate the diviner, and 2) what awesome plot hooks they practically hand to you on a silver platter. Some may remember us as the ENnie-award winning authors for AEG’s Toolbox, and were active in writing, editing, and project management for a great number of other d20 era projects. This is Athanae’s Divinations, a sourcebook of spells and cool options for the Diviner Arcane Tradition. ENJOY!
WotC put this up on their website, what you are asking for: SPELL LISTS
I have the three boxed sets of dungeon tiles from WotC, City, Wilderness and Dungeon boxes. I also picked up a copy of each of the add-ons they produced so I have a lot of tiles. I love the tile sets, very worth it. You cannot write on them, even with their coating, and expect the marks to come off. Don't write on dungeon tiles! :-) Back in the 90's I used to use a lot more 3-d terrain and props, but after too many issues of minis getting lost in the mess or being forgotten or mistakes being made I moved almost exclusively to tiles. Now these days I do about 90% tiles with occasional 3d terrain. Like you I use some fish tank props, and over the years I've collected miniature props like furniture, boxes, chairs, etc. And to your other inquiry, yes I've duplicated some to make really custom shapes. I'd full-scan a full, plain large tile, then print it out on 8x11 label pages, then attach that to heavy cardboard or card-stock. Then, you're only limited by how many you can print off. :-) On Amazon to this day you can still type in "dungeon tiles" and they have lots of the add-ons from WotC I spoke of in stock at reasonable prices.
Invisibility Purge 4th-level abjurationCasting Time: 1 minute Range: 60 feet Components: V, S, M (a silver mirror 3 inches in diameter or smaller) Duration: 1 hour You pick a point within range and create an area 10 feet in radius. Any creature that enters this area invisibly, due to magic or natural ability, is instantly rendered visible. Someone went through his old Wizard and Priest's Spell Compendiums from 2nd Edition and reworked the spells to 5e. LINKY .
Excellent. Are you the developer? Any idea when more special abilities will be added? This is an extremely useful tool. I'm not the developer but in the weeks I've used it I noticed how it get little updates, recognizing more abilities and translating things better, so it still gets TLC from whoever did!
There is indeed! You copy the text from any Pathfinder monster from the System Reference Document and it spits out a pretty good conversion instantly. Some special abilities or spellcasting may need to be added depending on how weird but it gets you off to a very good start.
What I'm looking for is a product that's added a lot of pre-made army stat blocks for stuff NOT covered in Paizo's Ultimate Campaign. I have Ultimate War by Legendary Games, and while it's very good, doesn't have any new pre-made armies. I know I could make them but the work involved versus the simple game I want to run doesn't add up. So, I'm looking for pre-made armies of things like demons, devils, dragons, giants, etc. Does anyone know of such a resource?
Totally speculative mockup of the pawns is available here. Super! This project just went through the roof - 100% stoked!
When I was DM, by the time we ended Reign of Winter and everyone was wrapping up and turning in the magic item cards they collected over the campaign, each player turned in easily between 25-30+ cards, and a few in each case didn’t even know what some did or remembered they had them. When I played, that by playing smart to avoid or just ignore a bunch of xp-packed encounters meant to level us up and equip us with proper magic weather we wanted to or not (despite our characters and what they would do) we weren’t properly equipped or leveled at the end of Jade Regent to tackle the bad guys. So a heart-felt, passionate, role played speech by Ameiko’s player resulted in an opposed die-roll, followed by a TPK.
1) At the beginning of combat. It's just that if one side is surprised they wait out the first round, while those that aren't can take either an action or a move but not both. 2) The listed modifiers are predetermined calculations based on other stats, but when they come into play is when you are rolling a saving throw for the monster. For example: Fort +6, Ref +5, Will +1. If the monster is hit by a spell or effect requiring a saving throw, you roll a d20 and add that modifier, and comp[are it to the difficulty class (DC). 3) Actually you are right, the attack rolls and AC may use the bonuses of the ability scores but are pre-calculated for you. What the abilities are for basically fall into two categories. First, if the creature tries to use a skill that's not listed under its "Skills" designation use the modifier of the ability score to determine it. For example just because a creature doesn't have Perception listed under skills they can still try it, just roll a d20 and add or subtract the creature's wisdom modifier. Second, whenever you or the rules call for an "Ability Check" (like if you're kicking in the door with strength or catching a tossed object with Dexterity) roll a d20 and add that ability's modifier to get your total. I hoped that helped, any questions or clarifications needed please ask!
Reminds me of an email exchange I had with my fellow group DM's last year! GM: The first thing that catches your eye is a beautiful painting of the Ustalav countryside showing a carriage against a gothic castle. There’s a four poster bed in the corner, and a writing desk loaded with alchemical items to in the far corner. A carpet showing Osirion design lies across the floor.
What is the "Delve" format¿ Each of the encounter areas is described under its room number, as usual, but with only the basic of trappings. If there is a monster or threat present, you are directed to a 2-page spread in an appendix that has a close-up map of the immediate dungeon area, all trap and monster stats collected, and notes on lighting, terrain James is right, in general I liked this as it made running the adventure easier, but it was a drawback in the fun factor as far as reading the adventure.
Over 35 years my wife has painted about 500+ PC's and monsters, (characters always get metal minis) I must have thousands of WotC/Paizo/WizKids pre-painted plastic, and yet still use pawns for the creatures they haven't made a mini for yet, or larger groups of mooks on occasion. They're something I'm really glad Paizo came up with.
So while at GenCon I wanted to pick up a hard copy of the Assimilation Strain, but I knew the PDF was coming soon and I’d have the hardcover in time to play next year. A player of mine, not knowing I backed the Kickstarter saw it and got it for me as a gift because she hoped I’d run it. She even got it signed by Neil Spicer. I got around 15 books at GenCon but I tore into this the night I got it. I had hoped just because it was a wild and liberating campaign that the adventures themselves would treat it as a fulfilling, detailed story, and I was so satisfied to see how this turned out. (To put it in perspective, just because it’s got bizarre locations, creatures and toys they didn’t “toss a bunch of CGI at us and hoped it would carry the story”, Not in the slightest). What a GREAT start to an adventure path. I’m a huge fan of the PC’s starting off on a somewhat simple mission and getting dragged into something much more dark and sinister and this delivers big time. The NPCs are colorful and really have an interactive part in the story, not fire and forget types. The art is evocative and top-notch. The maps are clear and easy to read and the end encounter is excellent. Yeah, I got caught up in a couple of simple editing things that slipped through because of the rush to get it to Con, but I know LG will clean up the finished product. I also can’t stress enough how great it is for the team for make versions for both 5E and Pathfinder. In short I am so damn glad I backed the Kickstarter.
Assuming you are talking about scale maps for miniatures use. When they are 5 foot scale I usually blow up and print out the maps, yes. When they go to the 10 foot scale I either need to use dungeon tiles and try to get close, or sometimes if there are not a lot of features or props to give it away, just print it out and call it 5 feet per square to the players if it doesn't make a difference. Otherwise, I suggest the dungeon tiles idea.
Some 2nd Edition AD&D game at GenCon in the late 90's. Pregens. I was handed a Paladin of Honor that had a personal oath to always face an enemy head on and never use cowardly ranged attacks. The entire adventure was a seafaring one that involved distance combat ship to ship or ship to land. I don't know what nimrod came up with that character in such a scenario but after listing to everyone else do things while I sat around, at the halftime break I removed myself from the table and went to the dealer's hall. Annoyed me utterly to the point that the next time I joined a game a GenCon was two months back. That went swimmingly well, by comparison.
I picked this up at GenCon. It’s a beautiful book. It’s also very detailed and full of great, dynamic encounters. I can also sum up its writing and play style with the following: “The training wheels are off.” While a new DM might feel overloaded, I love it. I’ve read up to page 45 and it feels like it already covers a dozen sessions of play or more. Great locations, supurb NPCs and lots of roleplaying opportunities. Nice relaxed writing style too. And how it’s not so much mission-based, but there’s obvious goals to achieve, the book presents them, then lets the players determine how to go about tackling any of them making it feel like they are in a lot of control, no railroad here. I’m having too much fun reading it. I will certainly be running it, and once I do I must remember to write a full review. Great work on this guys!
1) GM Ease of Play: 7. Because there are so many places the PC's COULD visit there is some homework but with the Isles of the Shackles book it's actually fun. Naturally some islands you may need to create on your own. There's also a ship combat system to learn. 2) Synthesis of the Story: 9. With the exception of book 4 it does a great job of this. 3) Role-play Friendly: 10 Plenty of opportunities and interesting NPCs throughout. 4) Combat Design: 10 again. Danger quotient changes her and there obviously but we had very few cakewalks and only a couple close-calls on TPK. 5) Fun factor: I had a 10 time running it and the group easily ranks it their favorite, 10 again.
Switching isn’t the word for me. I’ll happily be playing both it seems. My weekly Sunday crew of 5 players have just finished our 9th consecutive Adventure Path. We’re all well into our 40’s and we’re all feeling a little burnt out with the magic item tracking we had at high levels and the gameplay in general once our characters hit the teens. We all participated in the 5E playtest and would like to give the system a fair try when we start our next campaign to give it a proper workout. My twice-a-month game on Saturdays of a rotating league of players numbering over 20 (ranging in ages from 15 to 52) play Pathfinder Society scenarios mostly and since the characters never pass 11th level there’s no burnout and everyone loves the gameplay so I’ll still be running Pathfinder as well. Good times indeed!
sigh Spoons
This is Qunnessaa again, with her character submission. :) I decided to go with an occultist rather than a wizard after all. I'm envisioning her party role largely as support: she'll eventually be able to cover some healing, ideally some utility spells, and maybe help out with traps and whatnot. I have an eye on wondrous item crafting for her, as soon as possible. I think I've managed to adjust her stats per the given character creation guidelines. Character background for Tsia in “Council of Thieves”:
It should have worked, absolutely. Under the circumstances, it was a most convenient moment to undertake a bit of travel, and Belenis had been considering a visit to the Library Without Light for some time, and – if one might be so bold – who else would her ladyship choose to travel with from among her companions? It was … interesting, and the collection priceless, after all, although diplomacy baulks at what one ought to say about Nidal, even if the shadows suited her ladyship’s particular interests and talents very well. Belenis usually kept to herself, so it was really quite unaccountable that she should have blundered so disastrously – but, regardless of what actually happened, there it was: the edge of panic, an unspoken apology, and a hasty parting of the ways with a promise of an explanation and assistance as soon as possible.
It must have been desperate, and only that exigency could have convinced Tsia to leave her lady’s side for Cheliax, of all places, though at least Westcrown was supposed to be comparatively civilized, all things considered. In the event, however, it seems to have been out of the frying pan and into the fire, if fire were whispers that followed too close and shadows that stretched too long, in a city under the heel of devil-worshippers. Complications are beginning to tangle up alarmingly, but it would be reckless to brave the sea, not least because Tsia told Belenis she would wait for further instructions, and so far it has been manageable. Westcrown is not so barbarous as to make it too difficult for a gentlewoman – even in straits – to make a go of it, especially if she is a woman of taste and refinement, and willing to ply her talents at the needle. (And at magic, but that is another matter altogether.) So far, Tsia has managed to stay out of further trouble, taking in commissions for embroidered work while exploring her temporary refuge, however dubious. Just recently, though, she’s heard murmurs that suggest it might not (only) be her that’s got the shadows stirring: it will doubtless be worth seeing if those whispers turn into anything like collective action. Even if she’s trying to keep a low profile, Tsia can’t just stand by while there’s more and more deviltry afoot. Self-indulgent nonsense: what’s a lady like her doing in the Rego Cader, anyway??:
So much for ‘a promising lead at the Dusk Market tomorrow,’ Tsia scoffs inwardly, on her way back to her lodgings. Oh, to be sure, some valuable contraband histories ducking the incendiary censors, but nothing to suit her particular interests, or her lady’s, for when they’re able to meet again. Before she can once more run through a list of titles to keep an eye out for, a mental flutter alerts her that the spirits that seem to have interested themselves in her want her attention.
brief response to the prompt proper: The click-clack of animal claws on the broken cobblestones and echo on the dilapidated, decaying section of the abandoned Rego Cader district precedes the wizened goblin’s arrival. He sits astride the ugliest, smelliest goblin dog you have ever encountered. Scraggly gray and white hairs jut out of the goblin’s face at odd, obscene angles. He raises his dogslicer at you and asks in heavily broken common, ”Who ye what wants be a corpse? Huh? Speak, longshanks!” “Surely no one wants to be a corpse,” the young elf woman quips, drawing herself up to her full height as she adds, with rising scorn, “But I am Silver Dawn.” She very much doubts this creature will deserve her proper name, the way he’s waving that knife around. She reaches discreetly for her own dagger with one hand as she raises the other cautiously, the stitching of her elaborately embroidered gloves flashing like so much intricate, conjured script. She reaches into the depths of herself to call forth a small conjuration in truth, summoning a body to clothe whichever spirit answers the call. In an instant and a beat of feathered wings, a snowy owl hovers over her hand, ready to stoop and strike at the eyes of goblin or dog at her urging.“Can we not be civil about this?” she asks, in a last, indirect warning and the hope of avoiding violence. If summons and dagger aren’t enough, her fingers itch for an evocation as icy as her distant home…
I wondered what she was planning to do with all that macaroni and glitter. He does go right on to say, ὃς δὲ γυναικὶ πέποιθε, πέποιθ᾽ ὅ γε φηλήτῃσιν ("He who trusts a woman, trusts cheats"), so the wily coaxing comes standard, I'm afraid. Hesiodic misogyny, the gift that keeps on giving! :/ The old-timey proverbs and superstitions are much more fun. (I say "old-timey" because I'm not sure that it's not a very deliberate part of the persona, even then. Hesiod's got a definite angle of his own, for all his concern with getting tricked.) He might have been a bitter old man who was angry that no silver-tongued vajazzled ho tried to take his granary. Both, probably. The double-bind is a real nuisance. Speaking as a schemer with, as gran says, other designs, on others. ;) My agenda for the day includes thinking about how one very odd manuscript claims the Egyptians gather herbs. ("I knew it! The fairy's a witch!") XD
I wondered what she was planning to do with all that macaroni and glitter. I hate to admit it, but it's been a while since I read the Works and Days. He has his moments, but my goodness is Hesiod ever a weirdo. I'm not sure what I'd make of πυγοστόλος, honestly. It sounds, as it were, something like "bum-skirt" to me, but I don't know enough about archaic fashion to guess if we're meant to imagine some sort of bustle (one can only hope!) or something altogether more scandalous. Which reminds me, unfortunately, of frosh week at the start of term, when I saw some sartorial choices that were ... oh, let's just leave it at decided, rather than turning it into an adverb and looking for the right adjective. Seeing roaming hordes of callow firsties is trial enough, without having to see oh! so very much of them. "Micro-shorts," I think? *Shudders.* A cut that offers neither comfort, flattery, nor plausible deniability for dress-code purposes. Just, why? Dear goddess, why? I guess they're not after my granary, then, but I am somehow both a timid and a cantankerous old maid, so.
It is nice when things work out ... surprisingly well? Last year, when I was travelling for a bit, my flight home got cancelled for Lovely, but I would have been happier with a basic sort of place and a deal cut with our rail folks so that I wouldn't be out of pocket for that last intermodal leg.
Just sugar? I only ever add sugar when I also add milk, so I can imagine just the plain sweetener - especially if it's not something with a bit more kick to it - would be a bit weird. Or maybe you're tasting the tea, and realizing just how disgusting tea tastes. *Considers her mental map of tea-drinking regions of the world.* On the one hand, if we make that a talking point, some long-standing tensions and conflicts could suddenly resolve themselves in unity to defend the noble beverage. On the other hand, the next world war starting because some barbarians don't know a good thing when they see it wouldn't be my choice for the end of the world. ;)
This really is very close to how we felt about it. It was a very controlled environment, with strictly-controlled employees who had to absolutely radiate friendliness and welcome. All with an underlying security system so overwhelming and invisible that most totalitarian nations would give their eyeteeth for it. Wonder? Check! Sense of belonging? Check! Everyone there was there for the experience, and you could strike up conversations with smiling strangers wherever you went. Hmm. Neat, thanks for sharing! That makes sense, even if the cheerfulness sounds too overwhelming for someone as introverted and morbid a kid as I was. (Apart from being a Captain Nemo fangirl, one of my favourite exhibits at the Science and Technology Museum up in Ottawa was the one about all the dangers / horrible ways astronauts could perish in space. I'd like to think it was just because the sound design was cleverly sinister and just struck a chord with me, but. (Also, the first movie whose age rating my parents didn't sweat for me was Apollo 13, so. :) ) Most of my idea of what Disney is didn't actually appeal to me, as opposed to being age-appropriate and culturally dominant, so just kind of inescapable.) I'll have to pick my cousin's brains next time I see her, because while I can see the formerly safe and wondrous place for families with kids angle, I think she's one of the true believers whose affection for the - ugh! - "House of Mouse" far exceeds that side of things. I'm not sure what would fill the equivalent role for me, in terms of formative influences from my childhood that probably still have
I imagine folks who weren't there for the glory years and who are, inexplicably, true believers must exist. One of my cousins is a Disney junkie on a level that I just can't wrap my head around, much - in all fairness - as I'm sure she wouldn't get my own obsessions. I'm a geriatric millennial, so I'm not sure where that puts us for what her Disneyland experience might have been like, but folks like her, but who weren't around for, or never got around to scheduling a trip during, the place's heyday must be in for a disappointment. Cost and value aside, I have to admit I'm curious about the idea of people who've stopped going, in terms of demographics. The idea of multiple visits boggles my mind. Maybe I'm just a weirdly non-amusement/theme park sort of girl, but I think I was more or less done with the things by the time I was ten or so. In terms of Disney specifically, my favourite was always 20 000 Leagues Under the Sea, which I should probably revisit, because it strikes me as rather subversive, all things considered. Or are we not meant to be cheering Captain Nemo on all the way? I wish I were musical enough for it to make sense to have a pipe organ built in to my secret, mobile villain lair. Or some other extravagant instrument. :)
But how many beer cans is the length of the cabbage?Are you trying to make Freehold do math? Could we throw in a non-decimal system, too? After all, "Multiplication is vexation,
What's that in shillings, then? ;)
What horrors might she have realized? Might it be possible that - Ahem. Rumours of CIA collaboration with teratogenic experiments by secret elven eco ... I may have fond memories of some dorky Shadowrun adventures.
On a memorable occasion of misplaced optimism, on that note, my mum and I once stopped at a greasy-spoon joint on an excursion downtown, and she was momentarily thrilled that they had malt vinegar on the table just waiting for everyone ... until she put some on her fries, only to discover that, for the all-day breakfast crowd, it was maple syrup inexplicably put into what civilized society would expect to be a vinegar bottle. :)
Maybe it's a subconscious concession of the implications? #Not
I'd be more worried about Nora Virus then having to be fished from overboard. Now I’m just curious as to what sort of boat one uses for a Sabaton cruise. The floating monstrosities are, I suppose, suitably brutalist, but the general idea doesn’t sound particularly metal to me (if we’re thinking of the same Sabaton), apart from the horrors that seem to ensue so reliably from cramming so many people in such tight quarters. I would guess a piratical flotilla (“Is this the face that launched a thousand ships?” &c.) might work, but that leads to other logistical issues, and still probably involves far too much more – how does it go again? – “rum, sodomy, and the lash” than is Qunnessaa’s thing. Whatever floats one’s boat, of course. And now I’ll have to think of a suitable tricolon for the sort of cruise or fleet that I would be interested in. :) I gather there are some folks running working cruises now with fussy, miniature-scale cargo deliveries by sail, which did strike me as potentially fun, and only involves a handful of people to possibly catch something terrible from.
Hmm. I'm one of those lunatics who keeps putting off learning how to drive (mostly because I'm so anxious and with such poor proprioception that it would, at best, end in tears) and obsessively plans out her itineraries, so for the most part I'm used to a bit more friction while travelling. I would be miserable anywhere car-dependent, and I shudder to think about what transit options there are to get from Oakland to San Francisco. But I think I see what you mean: back home, they've just expanded another one of the local airports for regional use, and once more flights start routing through there, I can imagine that it will get confusing while folks get used to it, and it's also awkwardly across the water from our downtown. Not really a problem for me, but I knew someone once who's missed multiple flights across various expeditions (after the first, I would be all the more obsessive about getting to where I need to be on time, but different strokes, and all that), so a bit of nightmare fuel for folks like him, probably.
The mind boggles. On a happier, completely unrelated note, although more menacing to some, it looks like the powers of fashion - at least in my part of the world - have decided that this season will at long last include more greens than it has for a while. Which means that a bunch of shops have basically set up Qunnessaa traps in their windows, making skipping around town that much more perilous. Spring is arriving up here, and I'm starting to look forward to when the magnolias and hyacinths will start blooming.
Yep! I was just having fun teasing out some ideas for how the Stag Lord might make sense in a marginally less hand-wavy world, and also poking fun at Tsia. Something-something capital, dead labour, vampires. You know, the usual. ;) (I do wonder if there are any fun adventures set in Galt.) As you say, more realistically there would have to be a certain amount of either Robin Hood-ing or tacit acceptance among the locals, as with ancient pirates. It’s been a while, and I’ve never made the time to look into it as much as I would have liked, but on the terrestrial side of things, I gather in later antiquity there was sometimes trouble with bandits in (gestures vaguely towards) mountainous Balkan parts, which seems to have been driven by bored shepherds. Perfect storm of: stupidly large flocks technically belonging to an emperor very far away, many poor labourers, armed (to keep off wolves and whatnot), in obnoxiously inaccessible terrain that some luckless bastards would have to cross if they wanted to head north, and said suckers either not likely to be missed or stinking rich enough to make it worth the risk. The stereotypes about treacherous mountain bumpkins on the Continent, in the early (-iest?) novel and such, might have grown, I guess, out of pearl-clutching around broadly similar states of affairs. It’s mostly fine, until there’s a bad war, and/or a series of desperately lean years, and you’re a flash outsider that put the headman’s nose out of joint. (Or there’s a particularly wild party. I’ve seen reference to things like a dispute at a wedding about just how big / far away the stars are, that would be bad enough under ordinary circumstances, but then the disputants went home for their rifles…) Which is all a long-winded and ill-informed way of thinking through what the Narlmarches might look like when our PCs arrive. Probably pretty grim, if one starts working it out, whether as a desperately isolated, hardscrabble region in which it’s all too easy to turn against thems who don’t belong, or even if the Stag Lord is just absolutely unhinged and the PCs happen to be the ones to bring him down. Which is why, for everyone's sanity, it's probably best not to stare too long into that abyss. o.O
Eh. I don't make the rules. :)
*Hisses in sympathetic pedantry.* Indeed! I guess no one says "The die is cast!" anymore, either? Or is it that they forget why it became proverbial? Barbarians, quibbler, we are surrounded by barbarians. *Sigh.* ;)
Silver Dawn drifts serenely up to the ramparts to inspect the catapults, making sure she looks confident for the sake of Svetlana and Oleg’s worries. As Jack relayed of Oleg’s anxious rant about the trading post’s difficult position, the devices are in a sorry state. She gives a gentle rap to a beam here, a tug on a rope there, taking her time as she does a circuit of the towers. The catapults are larger devices than the sort she’s dabbled with, but the principles seem fairly straightforward, and after a few minutes, and double-checking with Jack for a second opinion, she reports back to the others. “Well, the good news is that all is not lost, and we should be able to salvage some of the catapults’ beams and suchlike,” the courtier announces drolly. “The bad news is that as my talents lie in the needle, not in lumber, I probably shouldn’t be assessing what’s still sound enough to be reused, given the strain it will be under. Between that and cutting any needed replacements, it will take quite some time before we can be lobbing any boulders about.” Short version, gleaned from the rules in Ultimate Combat, Wilderness, &c.:
Silver Dawn hesitates for a moment, clearly weighing her next words carefully. “I have a little magic,” she pronounces in due course. “I … am acquainted with a few spirits who might be induced to manifest for a moment to do battle alongside us. It would only be for a minute or so at most, and it wouldn’t be in a form more spectacular than an eagle, let us say, or an owl. I am no great summoner, and quite apart from that, they seem to be somewhat particular about what forms they might deign to assume.”
"An ambush has merits. Those of us on the gates can begin firing once they come through. Once they are distracted, you can engage with your blade." As the group offers their various talents and suggestions, Silver Dawn looks for the thread that might work through all of them. “Far be it from me not to trust Lady Candlemere’s confidence in her sword-arm, if she wishes to do justice by that means,” she says gravely, acknowledging Zsófia’s talents. “And if, as our host told Jack, these bandits are behaving ever more contemptuously, we might not wish to bar the gates and risk them offering insult and then returning in greater numbers. Although, depending on who arrives and in what mood on the morrow, we could split the difference: if they will not see reason, as the most reckless rush in, cut them off by closing the gates behind the screen of Ta Bayang’s spell? Divide, and conquer.”
"I have not studied such magic," she confesses, "in detail. But I think we could use it to steer their movements somewhat, since they wouldn't want to blunder onto our swordpoints either, nor to disappoint their leaders by balking outright. We might pick them off as they emerge?"
Silver Dawn’s lips purse tightly at Trillium’s enthusiasm. “It is not the custom of my people to mask in such a way. That is for our cousins far to the west, on the shores of the Arcadian Ocean. My lady Star Lace has mentioned the masks favoured by the nomads of the Grass Sea, closer to home, but then her curiosity and correspondence are impressive.” As she continues and her expression softens, it becomes clear that it’s not the masks as such that give her pause, but not being able to craft them to her own exacting standards on such short notice. “It could only be the very crudest first beginnings, but I would happily assist, if any of you would like and have particular images in mind. I have my own veil already, of course.” She does not pull up her hood and pin said garment in place to demonstrate, but as the lanky elven lady rises from her seat, it is not hard to imagine that with only a little show she could cut quite an uncanny figure on a snowy winter morning. “I’ll take a look at those catapults,” she adds vaguely, her thoughts already moving on, “though dismantling them safely would probably take too long, and I’m sure our hosts haven’t got the scrolls I would need to reassemble them from the salvage.”
More fashion nonsense:
Oh, exactly. If they at least accepted the horrible consequences of their ideas, it would be one thing. But it's like watching someone failing to manage even a very bad protean impression. The Speakers of the Depths do not approve. ;)
The thing I find perversely fascinating is the intersection with pseudo-legal (I think that's what the professionals call it?) "theory" that Sovereign Citizens often try to use to get out of the usual death and taxes stuff. Up here in our Vancouver, there was a fairly prominent case of a ludicrous, ugly dispute between neighbours in a condo, in which one of the parties went off the deep end into "freemen on the land" / "strawman theory" nonsense, basically - at least as far as I can recall and understand it - claiming to separate the enunciative "I" from the legal person it's attached to, so that Jane Doe is on the hook, but "I" (like everywhere else in a contract or whatever) is a completely different person, over whom the law/feds/Flying-Spaghetti-Monsters have no authority. Why anyone would think that would work is beyond me, and I'm a chaos faerie.
It was Mardi Gras today, right? And the lunar new year, and Anthesterion (though the Anthestheria as such, the festival proper, start at the end of our month this year), and Ramadan starts tomorrow, so busy time of various calendars. :) So, pancakes this evening for me! Nothing fancy, though I did add a handful of frozen raspberries. And there are some left over for breakfast! (So, uh, I suppose one can guess which of the above occasions is most salient in my house. ;) )
Probably less pedantry and more just me being wrong, but this bugged me: I need to clean out my sock drawer and refresh my hosiery, so I started browsing online for something fun, only to be met with, among other things, "solid sheer" tights. Now, I understand that what they're getting at is "unpatterned, but including more exciting colours than flesh tones and black," but given the range of skin tones, let alone the desired diaphanous effect once one puts the damn things on, *I* would think anything sheer introduces too much variation in effect for "solid" to be quite the right word. If I wanted a solid colour, I would get opaque tights, and if I just wanted a particular hue, I would get a monochrome pair, I think? Or just "colourful" rather than "patterned." (:
In all fairness, I presume, since Aristotle complains about that sort of thing in the Poetics and how some of the writers in Athens were letting tragedy down, that it might be an age-old problem. *Glances at title of thread.* *Looks worriedly at her roll and double-checks her Will modifier.* XD
As a curious nerd who habitually plays characters who are also curious nerds, I like the idea of opening up little details through passive checks and/or taking 10! That lets polymath characters sink their teeth into odd, delicious factoids, which others can take or leave as they choose. :)
Silver Dawn has a lot to think about as the wagon rolls the last of the way to the trading post that seems to mark the limit of Rostland’s reach, as the motley group of adventurers sets out on their improbable expedition. The old fort is quaint, and she keeps an eye out for the likeliest perspective for a sketch, but the size of its enclosure gives her pause, in the unspoken implication for the stability of the region. Unspoken, that is, until their host’s alarming greeting. She’s not sure who he thinks they are, but she is sure that it isn’t the group he is welcoming with polite briskness, and between helping unpack the luggage and finding out where she’ll be bunking, Silver Dawn scarcely has a moment for a word in edgeways. She does take a minute to examine sightlines, which seems like it will be all too useful come the morning. At least it looks like there’s snow in the offing, which makes her think of home, without pining. In due course, Silver Dawn joins the others at table, though a bit stiffly, as a few points still need to be clarified. She glances between Malylev and Zsófia, who seem to be taking things in stride, while the young elf’s expression shows just a hint of ‘I thought you said the Stolen Lands aren’t a monster-infested no man's land!’’ She thinks she detects a bit of resignation in their hostess’ slightly forced levity, but if she wants to indulge a show of civilization, far be it from Silver Dawn to deny her. As promised, the party has scarcely had time to get unloaded before Svetlana has a humble feast laid out on a long wooden table. Bread, hearty stew, and even an unassuming bottle of wine grace the table with a place set for every member. "Tell us," says Svetlana, "what news do you bring from the city?" “Oh, well, let’s see,” if her distinctively decorated robes and hesitation in recalling the latest gossip weren’t enough to display her foreignness, the elven lady’s curiously accented Taldane would settle it. “Or, what would you like to know? The Academy is doing much as it always has, I gather, though – oh, yes! – milady Tieldlara has just written a new song with a very memorable catch. Other than that, something called ‘Sovai’ is very popular, but perhaps less fit for this table. Yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, are quite the thing just now in certain circles, too, although quite a different sort of thing, of course. As to matters of court, I hear from one of her cousins that Elanna Lebeda is being steered towards the king-regent, but that’s more of the city-city, as it were.” Fortunately (or not), as a courtier, Silver Dawn is perfectly happy to keep a stream of nonsense flowing for as long as it pleases her listeners. If nothing else, it keeps her from voicing her most cynical thoughts as directly as she otherwise might. "Bandits? Who told you when they're coming back?" Mm. I don’t see why not, out here. Give their chief thirty years, and he might well be the recognized headman, unfortunately. It’s a decidedly unpleasant thought, and she knows what Belenis would have to say about it. Bullies, and worse, probably. We may not be who the Levetons were expecting, but we’ll have to help them now.
Only somewhat the worse for wear after the group’s adventures, once their work in the marsh is done, Willow is finally able to relax and appreciate Nuwa’s upbeat assessment. “Indeed! Thanks, everyone! I think we can be proud of ourselves: Rosehaven’s been through a lot, but hopefully the river can carry away anything the ground can’t hold.” She’s actually able to enjoy the rest of the festival, after getting patched up, and with that something still zinging around her head since the night chasing lingering sorrows. At the riverside ceremony, she takes the time to think about regrets she’s been holding onto. There are a few. <“Bitterness. Lost tempers,”> she eventually concludes, summarizing in a murmur of Elven. <“Lost time.”> Fortunately, the villagers provide a model for letting go, and she does feel a weight removed amid their smiles as her whispers, and the garland buoying her candle up for its last few minutes, are swept off down the Sellen. That night, it finally becomes clear. The buzz in her head fizzing with inspiration, she leafs through her notes one last time, brimming with excitement, trims her pen and finds her best ink. She opens a heavy blank book that’s been sitting in her bag for a while now to its first page, and after taking a moment, sweeps a confident new beginning in flowing Elven letters: To read what is written in any magical script: Take a clear crystal found under a rising moon, and say…
With a hiss of indrawn breath, as she realizes what she’s looking at, Willow snatches her hand from the stones as if to avoid a burn, her fingers flickering through the sign of the Lady in the Room, as if to ward off bad luck – or worse. “I bet that might explain things,” she murmurs as she steps hastily back, happy to let Mizzie take over. Willow is, after all, an apprentice still, and the mysteries that call to her are decidedly more secular. Gods introduce variables that she’s not sure how to deal with, and she is fanciful enough that the events of this grim moonlit night spur on her imagination. She considers the winking cat’s-eye warily until Mizzie pockets it, considering the implications and the limits of reconsecration. What will it mean to reinter what’s left of the coven? Obviously - and most importantly, on a practical level - avoiding further reanimation, but beyond that? In the dark of the night, wounds still oozing from skeletal claws, Willow gazes quietly into the hollow that held the gem for so long, and wonders. Would you have seen me, in my lowest moment? And at what price? She tries to shake it off as Mizzie sketches new holy symbols onto the tumbled shrine, the apprentice’s lip curling, but it’s the snap of a twig from the trees in the direction of the river that calls Willow’s attention away (some careless owl settling to roost, perhaps), and then the moon, reappearing from behind a passing wisp of cloud. Somehow, the silver light sets something fizzling inside her, after all the horror of the night, and with work still to do. It will be alright: better than, even. She lets her subconscious hold on to that spark, or bloom, or whatever it is, as she turns back to the shrine and, after a moment’s thought, nestles her dagger among the topmost stones. It’s the best she can do, off the top of her head, but daggers have a connection to both Calistria and Yuelral, so. Eyeing up the group, she silently assesses that she, Vrire, and, above all, Bellisola will have the easiest time of it, but there’s a lot of digging to do, and a part of her can’t help but observe that she knows for a fact that there are spells that would help. Something to bear in mind. “Well, better get to it, then, I suppose?”
Once the last body's been buried, stretching out from bending over the graves, Willow is sure of it: this is right. And she'll be sure to thank Feather Seed profusely on the way back to Rosehaven, without whom they couldn't have done it.
Hmm. My go-to for flavour tends to be curry on the spicier side of things, so that might be tricky. Maybe General [Tso's]* Chicken, if you can find a decent prepared mix/sauce and are OK with westernized Chinese ? *Your General may vary. In my part of the world, it's Tao. Chicken Véronique? It's on my list for soon-ish, since I have the ingredients. Véro instructions: For two chicken breasts:
3 tbsp butter 1 tbsp marmalade 1/4 tsp tarragon, crumbled 1/4 c dry white wine 8 med mushrooms (chopped or sliced fine) 1/4 c whipping cream 1/2 tsp cornstarch 2 tsp water 3/4 c green grapes Melt 1 tbsp butter, cook chicken in pan 'til golden on either side. Stir in marmalade, tarragon, wine: simmer until cooked through. (~15 min.) Meanwhile, fry mushrooms in rest of butter, add cream to pan juices, quickly boil. Blend cornstarch with water, add to sauce, return to boil, add halved grapes, and (again) let it boil. Serve sauce over chicken.
Any luck? Or would we have to fall back on fanfiction and Mabel Maney’s parody? :) I think Maney does a very good job of channeling the feel of the revisions from the ‘60s through a very camp aesthetic. It’s much of a muchness, always. And affectionate, if ruthless. My mum was so disappointed in Nancy Drew that she more or less actively discouraged me from reading those, though I ended up a bit more of a sci-fi girlie in any case, so Tom Swift more than the Hardy Boys, to a certain extent. I stopped reading the lot quite a while before I was in a position to realize that Nancy/Deirdre would have clarified things for me so much sooner. (Though I think that might only have been possible after the adventure game series, anyway?) But all this is getting wildly off-topic from taking 10 on dinner checks! Unless anyone can recommend fannish cookbooks for sapphists? :) In much less exciting news! Three-Cup Chicken, and yes, it is Taiwanese, now that I checked my recipe. Soy sauce, black sesame oil and wine for a marinade, spiced up with a pinch of sugar, ginger, basil, and ideally Sichuan chili crisp to taste. I’m between batches of the last, and didn’t feel like faffing about with a bunch of jars, so I made do with some hot sauce powered by the more usual peppers for my part of the world. I probably should have done it properly, or been more generous with the spice (to compensate for the wine?), but it was fine, if not particularly exciting. I had it with rice and some steamed mixed veg.
Wow, didn't know I had fellow food history fans in here. I collect historic cookbooks. :) My brother's partner has a background in social history, including of food, so I can reliably get new recipes and facts when I have a chance to pop over to their place. :) I, on the other hand, despite hanging out here, don't actually care much about food, so when I change things up it's mostly out of Chaotic resentment towards the idea of order and stasis generally rather than a heartfelt interest in culinary experiments. I did see a copy of the official Nancy Drew Cookbook at a secondhand bookstore here a while ago, but they were asking an absurd sum for a record of historic low expectations of young readers. I'm not sure who the books were intended for, originally, since the level of the text and the reader's assumed interest in the emotional lives of teenagers seem to be at cross-purposes. (Who is this ... Ned(?) guy? It's been a minute.) Similarly, the Cookbook's idea of when kids might want to "entertain" and what they could hope to achieve don't seem to line up: leafing through it, its suggestion for "pizza" was particularly heart-breaking.
Anyway, about to try an approximation of Taiwanese (I think?) Three-Cup Chicken tonight. Will see how it turns out!
TL;DR: We were never allowed representation because the Boomers outnumbered us, yet now we're being blamed for ruining the world because somehow we had a hand in something we were never allowed to have a hand in. All the while being completely self-reliant from an early age and then being told we weren't responsible enough for any real responsibility.
"Did they tell you it was set in stone?
>:( The demographics are horrifying, aren't they? I'm not sure what it must be like to be a sociologist watching on, these days. Predictably, I gather - after some quick Googling - that while the Americas are roughly representative of the global average of parliamentary (broadly speaking) demographics, that's because Central and South (and the Caribbean) compensate for North America. And compared to here in the frozen north, looks like Congress is about 12 percentage points lower, for proportion of representatives under 45.
Isn't it great? ;) We do both (beef stock and tomatoes, about 1:3 ratio) and of course onions! Recently, inspired by xkcd, I have added trying out popular regionalisms from the land of my foremothers to my list of things to do eventually, speaking of horrifying the Italians, but I would need to plan a trip to the butcher's.
Dinner tonight was pizza soup. Mostly because I had suitable ingredients (including overripe tomatoes that had to be dealt with) and it's been a while, but also, sometimes chopping the heck out of a pile of vegetables is pleasantly cathartic. Got a middling baguette to go with it at one of the supermarkets I rarely stop at because it was actually more or less on my way this evening, and of the usual places I might go A) the one was, conversely, inconvenient, and B) the other, though pleasingly more diverse/international in its stock, regrettably does not do fancier European bread. Great paranthas, though. (Oooh, maybe next time!) I do also need 1) to get my knives sharpened and 2) to learn how to do it myself.
"Yeah...I don't speak 'mental breakdown' so you're gonna have to translate that for me." Ha! It is my mother tongue, and I figure I might be able to muddle through a dozen dialects, including that odd one based on wallpaper designs. :/
Prologue:
Ah, Issia. Of course. It occurs to Silver Dawn that it might be well to get a better sense of the great families of Brevoy, if Varn’s vague hint was meant to suggest that she has indeed been favoured with an opportunity to join in an expedition to the hinterlands abutting the nation’s southern border. Back home there were enough others around that keeping track of such things wasn’t part of her duties, but here she’ll have to fend for herself, and it’s becoming clear that while it may be early days, others are interesting themselves in the Stolen Lands rather beyond just letting any old adventurers go haring off. In any case, she makes a mental note to try to place House Dobós on her map of current affairs later. She smiles with playful mock dismay at Zsófia’s question. “Oh dear, I’m sure he’d be heartbroken not to be recognized, though it is good of him to be so earnest in making sure nothing’s amiss. And he is, I understand, rather a creature of Rostland, here. Maegar Varn.” “I gather,” she stretches the syllables out quietly, conspiratorially, “if certain parties are to be trusted, that the Stolen Lands are to be divided, for practical purposes, and he’s been offered a charter to explore the Nomen in particular. He seems decent enough, but much more practical than I can manage.” Silver Dawn’s eyes flicker, perhaps unfortunately, to Jack at just that moment. A cousin who uses a soubriquet, even beyond our lands and customs. Interesting. She continues, cheerfully, “Very much a swordsman, rather than a needle. Which is nonetheless perhaps a relief to some of us: there are so many duelists here today! I would ask if we all have an eye, or a hope, on a particular turn of events today, but I would hate to pry. I’m sure the heralds are about to call for all our attention momentarily, in any case.”
Silver Dawn considers Zsófia’s clarification, which poses quite a needle to thread. Fortunately, the young embroiderer is very much in the habit of keeping several ready at all times. Interesting projects always call for it, after all. She nods thoughtfully. “Thank you telling us. For what it’s worth, which is unlikely to be much, if ever it seems desirable to reach out in that direction, in the most distant, at-one-remove sort of way, and you think I might help, please let me know. As I’m sure Miss Anstarza will agree, students of history are all too well-placed to see what trouble even a slender hope might avoid.” She ends quietly, her thoughts clearly on losses distant in both space and time, striking realms and single, humble hearts. After a moment, she laughs, picking up from Jack’s unexpected loquacity, such as it is, and Ta Bayang’s redirection of the conversation with Malylev, “I hope that, if we can, you will ask us for help too, Jack. It certainly seems that we have our share of thorny problems ahead of us.” “What say you, Malylev? Apart from herbs thorny or tasty, might we inquire of colourful? I only dabble in dyeing, but I suspect a regular supply of silks in all the colours one might wish is not to be relied upon where we’re going. And it might be a start towards more practical alchemy, in which, it has been brought to my attention, I am sorely lacking.”
Thanks to both you and Ambrosia Slaad! Good to know! :) Nothing particularly traditional has been in the offing recently on my end: too isolated to feel inclined to do a full Ukrainian Christmas, in terms of both effort and quantity. Might do belated bits and pieces if I find the energy. DeathQuaker's mentioning gołąbki a few posts back offers an idea of what to do with the other half of a cabbage if I decide to make borshch. Instead, this weekend's been a batch of Ants Climbing up a Tree, in a Taking 10, casual sort of way: some sort of packaged Sichuan stir-fry mix (close enough to the "chili crisp" that I gather was big a while back), proper doubanjiang, onion, ginger, cumin (not-a-vampire aversion to garlic), generous splash of soy, fried up with ground pork and noodles finished in a bit of broth, served over rice and with indifferent frozen mixed veg, which helps turn down the heat. Also baked a batch of hybrid ginger snap / oatmeal raisin cookies that turned out fine, but a bit less zingy than I would have liked. Next time I'll have to use lighter molasses or add more spice, bearing in mind that the recipe is from the Prairies and a person who's probably about my age (?) but has an inexplicable fondness for the sorts of stuff that induces bemused reminiscences from my mum and her siblings and was already unfashionable in their youth.
Prologue:
The wintry young elf bobs slightly in courteous acknowledgement of Zsófia’s greeting, though compared to the grace of the duelist and the elven gentleman beside her, it’s just a bit wobbly as she combines the movement with peering in the direction the latter was heading, trying for a glimpse of the woman he spotted, all while choosing her words carefully. “Mostly everyone here calls me Silver Dawn. I wouldn’t dream of asking too many tongues to twist over my native,” she says, her own accent pitching her Taldane with a bit more of a softly rolling range that betrays the influence of Iobarian on top of Elven. “Did anyone else see her, or should we let someone know?” Silver Dawn returns to the topic at hand, brow furrowed in concern. She’s obviously too innocent to rate the assembled quite at vipers, or perhaps too detached, as a foreigner. They could never! And that goes double for dragons, she thinks. “I’ll see to it,” Varn announces with a frown, abruptly taking his leave with a tight nod and tighter set to his jaw, leaving Silver Dawn and Jack to fend for themselves with the lady – Oh dear. Have I blundered into a swordlord / loyalist split? the thought flashes across the snowcaster’s mind. The morning has just gotten so much more interesting, even without mysterious lurkers behind curtains. Maegar is living up to his promises so far. “I would think,” Silver Dawn says guilelessly , “that the Aldori could have their people in plain sight, rather than stuffing someone behind the drapery. Lord Varn will inform the guards, I’m sure, so maybe the best we can do is … keep our eyes open?” Her own glance flickers across the hall to find Lady Aldori, as she tries to gauge whether everyone’s attention will shortly be called for. Could it be a distraction? If so, by whom? To what end?
From her shaky perch on the wagon as it bumps along the track, the improbable ilverani listens to Zsófia’s – revelation? announcement? It’s too much of a surprise, and too complicated, for Silver Dawn to even have to worry about schooling her expression. She knows what Zsófia means (she thinks), but the idea of being “somewhat” beholden to someone strikes her as an amusing way of putting it, as is the question of the regency. From what she’s been able to gather of Brevoy, even if she is an outsider, that’s giving far more credit to the Surtovas than anyone else she’s ever met. Is the king, or regent, or whatever, really that much more committed to the Baroness of Candlemere's success than are the Swordlords? Or are all their backers willing to wait quietly to see what advantage might come their way, without necessarily grieving if the adventurers come to an unfortunate end? The thought twists her stomach, so far from her own home. Surely Belenis would grieve. She would. In any case, Malylev’s forthright reservations cut across her thoughts, and she remembers that the outspoken hermit is an alienated aristocrat as he assesses the situation more candidly than she would dare, yet. She does wonder what she’s got herself into, as civilization – or Rostland, at least – recedes further over the horizon with each turn of the wagon’s wheels.
“So, nomads, small-holders, and a half-dozen of us? And bandits, I suppose, and river pirates? Monsters, deeper in the woods? As you have probably all gathered,” Silver Dawn says self-deprecatingly, the lilt of her accent underlining her foreignness as she shrugs with somewhat exaggerated casualness, “I have little interest in the affairs of western kings as such. At least, modern ones. But, in the interests of candour…” She hesitates for a moment, but continues, “My concerns are mostly with the forests much further to the west and south, and wherever else the relics of my people – of all elves –” (she strives to include Jack and Trillium) “and others’ from ages past are to be found. My fealty is to my liege in … Fangard, I think you would call it, and through her to our queen among the ilverani there, but they have no interests on this side of the mountains that they've deigned to share with me. I will probably return home long before the century is out, unless we find something truly remarkable beyond your lands, Lady Candlemere. Only, I will say, Lady Aldori and her friends received me kindly as a visiting scholar, and I would not wish to be ungrateful. Given our situation, as Malylev so aptly described it, might it be best not to burn any bridges before we have to?”
Prologue: Prodding back at whatever’s poking at her subconscious, Silver Dawn sets aside her work too, for a moment, to go find Maegar Varn. She promises the page an unfilched cup of something nice to keep an eye on her project while she has that word, knowing that she’s adding one more thing for the young person to worry about as the folk keeping the gathering on track try to handle the crowd. Threading her way through the press of people, the elven lady finds Varn in a lull in conversation with a cluster of comparatively rough-looking men. Himself cleans up more nicely, but if she remembers the gossip in the circles she moves in, the word is mercenary. As the group adjusts itself to make room for her, the two exchange an open-minded but overtly assessing glance. In what is politely referred to as ‘his prime,’ she concludes, though it’s so hard to tell with humans, isn’t it? Turn away for a moment, and the years have blasted them, if not buried. What Varn thinks of the young elf is suggested as he acknowledges her briefly and, if politely, inaccurately, “Dame Silver. I am glad that we were able to find a moment.” After only a few of the usual formalities, he gets briskly to the point, “I understand you have some ideas about what’s to be found in the Nomen Heights. About some of the ruins, and the reports of poisonous stones.” She nods. “From what I’ve heard, I’m sure they’re Koloran. Although, to be perfectly honest, I sailed down from the Nyvyrd, rather than struggle over the mountains, and it was Lady Tess-Iubharr who wrote to me about the interesting ores to be found there. If any inscriptions have turned up from –” “Let me be equally frank, Silver,” Varn interrupts, his gaze travelling over her again. “It’s fascinating, I’m sure, but right now, I need a proper alchemist, and I’ve found tailors and weavers already. It’s not spoiling things this morning to let you know that I don’t need a lady specializing in history and fancy work.” He must sense his own audacity, because he does try to soften the blow. “That said, while it’s not my place to say more, I think you won’t find today entirely disappointing. I should introduce you –” The pair’s stroll through the hall during their conversation has obviously not been without direction, but before Silver Dawn can take in much more than elegant court dress and a daring hairstyle, she narrowly avoids a collision with another person, who dodges around the other lady, muttering an apologetic, "She... She stomped my foot. Did you see her?" “See who?” Silver Dawn asks, responding to a hint of an Elven accent and sympathizing with the outrage.
Prologue:
It does not require a vastly inquisitive spirit to recognize that the sort of gathering currently being held at Lady Aldori’s mansion always attracts an interesting range of persons: bored or (perhaps and) scheming aristocrats keeping a wary eye on rivals’ doings, the poor functionaries who actually have to try to see their way to everything going smoothly, preening bravos or loutish thugs angling for attention or carried in the wake of their betters, and a smattering of surprises. One of the last, in a slender cascade of silks the colour of an afternoon sky in midwinter, sits quietly on one of the chairs lining either side of the hall, after having taken a turn about the room to inspect the tapestries with an expert eye. Apparently satisfied, while waiting for things to begin, she keeps herself busy with a bundle of somewhat less extravagant stuff (midnight blue, almost black) arranged for her to work at some careful silver embroidery on the bodice of a set of robes, pointed ears alert to the conversations around her and gaze lifting occasionally to follow movements around the room. She is fairly confident, after having made herself useful and spent time enough dropping increasingly brazen hints in the right ears, that she will not be disappointed today. Nonetheless, neither Lady Aldori nor Lord Varn has said anything. She can’t blame them: she wouldn’t either, in their place. Something else needles at her instead, tugging at her attention like a kink in her thread. She doesn’t grudge the need to acknowledge acquaintances as they pass by, nor her few friends that are in attendance (some have allegiances that strongly encourage their absence, but she’s spotted Seraph this morning at least, representing the Lebedas from a cadet branch), and she’s used to some tittering behind her back about her accented Taldane and whispers that the local eminences tolerate her because it allows them to boast that they’ve caught the attention of the elves, but this is different. She can’t quite put her finger on it yet, but while it’s unnerving, she doubts that there’s imminent danger of a scene, or worse. The only thing to do is to keep one’s eyes open, especially as… “Madame Silver Dawn?” A page interrupts her thoughts and stitches. The young person’s brow is furrowed with the awareness that it is an odd locution in the common tongue, but it is as close to correct as it’s going to get, and her addressee appreciates it. “Milord Varn has a moment, if you would like that word.”
As she has for the duration of the journey so far, Silver Dawn perches primly on the wagon winding its way to the expedition’s point of entry to the “Stolen Lands,” occupying herself with her stitching when the weather permits, and a book – for reading, or for sketching the passing scenery – when it is too cold to curl fingers around anything much smaller than a pencil. The unspoken but unmistakeable message is that she will ride a horse of her own when she has to and not a moment before. She is, at least, in what passes for practical travelling garb with her, and past misadventures aside, it seems as if she needn’t have expected to be ambushed by bandits at any moment. Still, with every jolt from the rough track, that sends her bobbing like a ship’s figurehead, she does wonder if there might not have been a river route, even as she knows that skirting the edge of Rostland proper has its advantages for their patrons. Nonsense, really, but that only shows how much need there is for someone to keep an eye on it. Silver Dawn looks up as the murmur of conversation pitches higher to include the whole group. Zsófia seems a bit nervous, and the ilverani wonders what might be worrying her, remembering, with sympathy, how the young Brevic noblewoman showed up rather the worse for wear on the day everyone set off. That thought reminds her of how she spent the Feast of Vigour herself, a fortnight ago: evidently, with much more restraint, she recalls, a bit smugly. But that’s by the by, and Silver Dawn nods at Zsófia’s reference to her titulature. She’s about to confess that Candlemere is little more than a name to her – there’s a ruin, isn’t there? – when Ta Bayang chimes in with a remark that raises Silver Dawn’s brow archly. Surely not. They can’t possibly be suggesting what I think they are. Unless I’ve missed some hints that I should certainly like to think that I would not, the elf muses. The only sensible thing to do is to let Zsófia deal with that, and one thing at a time. Mal chuckled, not really understanding what Ta Bayang was talking about. He nodded at Zsófia, though, indicating he wasn't laughing at her. "I did hear that, Lady. I thought it was someone making a joke in poor taste, the Stolen Lands being wild and all." She smiles encouragingly, “I have heard that too, now that you mention it. Pray continue, Lady Candlemere.”
It is regularly pasta night in my house, as tonight, though over the weekend I had made a batch of vegetarian chili, with my favourite yuppie lentils. Dessert was Australian lumberjack cake. (Apple and dates, with a broiled brown-sugar coconut topping. Needs to be watched more carefully than I did (alas!), at least with my oven that runs hot, but will probably add it to my recipe collection.) I also made a batch of varenyky/pierogies for the next few days. I must roll out the dough thicker than my grandmother did, because I always end up with leftover filling, but this year I left it late enough that it will go into the pot for the stargazy pie that is on the verge of becoming my solstitial tradition. Doing a full Christmas Eve thing on my own is too much, but I do try to keep it meatless, and I can work in some of the other traditional things over the twelve days.
Good Yule and happy solstice, everyone! I went for my first årsgång / year walk this morning:
I'm really not a sauna person. Designated switch-girl? Well, maybe, but I'd be a bit worried about having to deal with someone too happy to be on the receiving end. Which reminds me that a while ago I saw folks looking for volunteers to help with research for designing better hockey helmets, but they weren't looking to fill what might be my ideal role:
Anyway, the rest of my solstice is probably going to be more meditative, and most of my family celebrates Christmas instead, so I might get a start on some of what's traditional for our holiday dinner that can be prepared ahead.
Nothing fancy here for dinner tonight: pasta with a sauce of chopped tomatoes, splash of wine, pinch or two of various herbs. (Need to get more cumin, or just grind it myself, since I have an improbable amount whole, from restocking at the nearby supermarket which at least gestures to a more diverse / international clientele, and so stocks reasonable spices in larger quantities than yer typical Anglo dealers.) I also had an absurdly small scrap of pastry dough left over from the last pie I baked, so I made myself a single butter tart using a drastically scaled-down version of the Kitchen Magpie's recipe for the filling. She suggests using maple rather than corn/golden syrup, of which I theoretically approve, but it ended up runnier than ideal. Next time I might see if another couple of minutes' baking would do the trick, but I think it's just the nature of the beast, especially if one leaves out the raisins, as I did.
I wonder if Tsia (being an occultist) will start to associate her different items of clothing with her different names? E.g. "Today I'm doing lots of Evocation, so I'm specifically wearing my 'Tsia The Burninator' hat." :) o.o o.O>:))) Oh no. What have you done? XD I hadn’t thought all that far ahead, but I guess something like that must be inevitable, mustn’t it? It would be great if I could think of technical terms for particular motifs / styles in embroidery that I could press into service, but I’m blanking on suitable at the moment, unlike, say, quilting. (“Good heavens, no! With Dove in the Window? Evocation calls for Grandmother’s Flower Garden, to be sure.”) But at least now we can guess what it might look like if Tsia gives in to evil. Will it take a few hundred years for “ready-mades” to catch on in Avistan? Maybe, but flash-forward to: Lights go off. Paparazzi shout awkward, but eminently inconsequential questions about that one model and accusations of encouraging unhealthy body image. This one sticks to the script ("I'm grateful for the opportunity to show off so many designers for great lines, of course. But "Silver Dawn" always makes me feel more ... evocative."), smiles, flips her hair, and sashays down the red carpet for the opening night of the Oppara Fashion Show. A forest of wands of minor image waves to capture the scene for the papers and the plebs. Herself is already in her VIP seat, unruffled, as always. Impeccable. After all, everyone knows, Demons wear Troian. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Fortunately, quite apart from other considerations keeping her on the side of the angels, Tsia’s reasonably devout, and Findeladlara seems like a deity that would strongly favour craft traditions over mass production and … wait, have I rolled up an elven May Morris?
It's probably a good thing that the constable checks in just as Mizzie's spell reveals the fascinating magic that still clings to the remains of the pumpkins. As it is, quite apart from what goodies might lurk in the ruins Bertinard mentioned, it's almost enough to shamefully distract the elven apprentice from the horrors of the night. Instead, she merely ruminates as she follows the other Pathfinders. (Doubtless to be surprised when she eventually notices which direction they've taken.)
Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope the two of you get the time to work through it in whatever way works best for you. I can only imagine. Maybe we'll get to share a game some other time. Folks shared some really neat characters here.
This is Qunnessaa's final submission. The crunchy bits and background are in Tsia's profile, but just for fun, since I saw some folks have done similar, I tossed some more words around trying to start finding a character and narrative voice for her, which I figured I might as well add in a spoiler here, just because. Feel free to ignore it, GM, since it's frightfully self-indulgent. A morning in milady's workroom:
The parlour is almost silent this morning, apart from the soft bite and hiss of needle and thread through fabric as Tsia Troian sits calmly at her work, taking advantage of the best light of the day, though her books are not far from her hand either. As always, regret that it is impossible to focus on both at once flits briefly across her thoughts, even as she reminds herself that she is keeping busy, and can at least consider what is to be done about… That thought is interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by an unceremonious entrance that doesn’t wait for an invitation. The young elf’s brow unfurrows as the impertinence is revealed as belonging to friends, though she does send a mild look expressive of the sense of intrusion. It is largely wasted on –
“Darka, and Seraph. Good morning,” she says coolly. “By all means, make yourselves comfortable.” “I beg your pardon, ma’am. You know what this one’s like,” Seraph offers. The young Lebeda has always been the more correct of the two, in Tsia’s dealings with them, as might be expected of someone whose house has a flair for the dramatics and touchiness of duelists. “Oh, hush, Ser. At least make it Mam’zelle, you know Needleberry hates being ‘ma’amed.’ Makes her feel old,” the irrepressible Darka Vetrovna says, flopping onto one of the other chairs around the table, before taking in Tsia’s work and bending closer to take a look. “Oh! But you’re not working on your dress today! What is it this time? Go on, let’s see!” “For the doll for Lady Surtova’s youngest. The poor thing’s been feeling a bit neglected what with her mama’s confinement in the offing. I should be able to get this blouse done by today, and the whole thing should be ready before all the fuss, which I’m sure both mother and daughter will appreciate, whether as distraction or acknowledgement, as the case may be.” “This is Lenor, right, and not another Surtova? Her time must be very near, and I can’t think one would take the trouble for any of the others we know,” Seraph confirms as she settles herself in turn, a slight wrinkle still between her brows at her friend’s familiarity, as if to say, Needleberry? Must be a nickname. “Mm,” Tsia nods, still stitching away happily. “And how are you two today? I notice your Satiya’s not with you, Darka.” “She’s not mine,” Darka huffs, skipping directly to the point in Tsia’s mild observation. “And you know her house and milord Orlovsky’s don’t get on, so I’ll thank you not to go bandying such gossip about quite everywhere. But we’re fine, thank you. As a matter of fact, though-” There’s a pause as the Vetrovna scion catches the smiles between the Lebeda and the elf and rolls her eyes before continuing, “All three of us are fine. But, as I was going to say, before I was interrupted by certain insinuations-” “We are, but I don’t know what you mean, darling.” “-what’s this about you, Needleberry? Are you really leaving us for the wilds of the Stolen Lands, at the call of those lunatic swordslingers that Seraph loves so much?” “And we have something else for you, if you don’t mind. Well, I do. Or, we both do, but I’ll go first, because it’s embarrassing enough, and then we can go back to teasing Darka with … insinuations.” “I’m afraid needs must. It’s much too good an opportunity to let slip: so much to explore, so very long since my people were last there, safer than going alone, and between barbarians, bandits, and things-that-go-bump-in-the-night, some careful someone needs to keep an eye on things.” Tsia sets down her needle for a moment with a smile soft enough to take the sting out of her announcement, and, just as she’s about to continue with what she’s heard about the coming expedition, finally notices the small casket that Seraph must have had in her lap this whole time. With a reflexive smoothing of her skirt, Seraph lifts the box onto the table and scoots it over. “Lovely! Sarkorian, isn’t it? I’m afraid I can’t tell you much more than that. Some of the poor things did cross the mountains after the Wound opened, to take refuge among their kin, but I’m afraid that’s a bit further than I’ve spent much time in at all, and I’ve no meaningful Hallit.” “Winged-eye Tribe, Father tells me. But … um, what I was going to ask was if you could open it, please?” The hand raised to her mouth does nothing to stifle Darka’s giggle, earning a mock glare from Seraph, to whom Tsia returns a quizzical eye for an explanation. Seraph sighs, bowing to the inevitable. “I use it for some of my baubles, that’s all. Or it would be, except this morning, just when I was putting in my earrings, I got distracted, and so, when I was putting everything else away…” Oh, no. There’s only one way this tale could be tending, so Tsia rises to find the case holding several other tools beyond more needles and silks as Darka exclaims, with a not unsympathetic titter, “She scooped up the key along with bangles and rings and brooches, and locked herself out! I’m sorry, Ser, but you have to admit it’s a bit funny. Annoying little sisters can be a disaster even when they don’t mean to be. I should know, since I am one.” The lanky elven woman nods her acknowledgement of this piece of sagacity, as she unrolls her new case while examining the lock on Seraph’s casket, assessing the quality of its steel and the likely intricacy of its mechanism. As she chooses her tools, she asks, with a show of asperity belied by the evident good humour in her tone, “And you, Darka? I understand that my morning just got busier.” “I actually am here for Sati, in a manner of speaking. You do read Dragontongue, right? Well, her brother – older, in case you’re wondering – is being particularly obnoxious now that their parents have decided to try to get some poor devil to drill some magic into him and he can swan about showing off his big, mysterious books and be all smug about the ‘secrets of the Art,’ and all that. Of course, the sisters have to make do with keeping up their Skald, and your own lovely language, Needleberry – don’t get me wrong! – but they’re not encouraged to preen about it, without mastering so much as a … as a cantrip yet. Ridiculous. The dragons are gone, and the Rogarvias are gone. Who are they trying to impress, or to take in?” It does sound like there’s quite a bit of acrimony brewing among the rising generation of Lodovkas, with their parents’ having a clear favourite, and quite apart from the possible implications for the balance of power within one of Brevoy’s great houses and thus, by extension, among them all, the delight of gossip is enough to hold a significant part of Tsia’s attention even as she patiently feels out Seraph’s lock with one of her stranger “needles.” It’s rather comfortingly like wiggling room for another thread in a spot where the back of one’s work is heavy with other colours running to and fro, although nowhere near as satisfyingly productive as the creative act of embroidery. Before too much longer, her communicative friend reveals, “Anyway, the strange thing is, he’s not boasting of anything in particular. Which, even if he’s a prat, wouldn’t it at least make sense to promise that we’ll all see, soon, and he’ll … gods, summon his own dragon, or whatever? Apparently not, which makes it that much more frustrating. So, Sati managed to, oh, let’s say, liberate a scroll that looked important, but not so much that it would be missed soon.” Tsia produces a hum that falls somewhere plausibly between noncommittal and affirmative, just as her hook releases the last pin and she’s able to spin around an opened jewelry box for Seraph. Inclining her head in thanks, the young Lebeda pokes around briefly among her trinkets until her hand closes around her key. “Wonderful! Abadar be praised for mysterious embroiderers and their odd bodkins! Thank you, Silver Dawn. Did you say you had dabbled in jewelry-making? How did you say you learned the trick?” Seraph is cleverer than some people give her credit for, and there’s a bit of weight behind her casual questions and the slightest, just barely perceptible narrowing of her curious eyes. There’s no malice that Tsia can detect, but still. Under circumstances I hope you never have to encounter, she muses. Aloud, she demurs with a slight shrug, “Something like that. It was some time ago, but now that I think of it, I think it must have been the hinge of, let’s see – yes, a particularly unfortunate locket. It’s surprising how often one’s pins and needles come in handy.” She must have said “locket.” Probably overcompensating on the last syllable to soften her Iobarian-accented Taldane. Hand resting on the back of the still-open lid of Seraph’s casket, though her fingers itch to take up her hoop and resume her work, Tsia turns a wide smile to both her friends even as she addresses Darka specifically. “I’m glad to help. Well, then, shall we see what’s so special about this scroll?” A bit more Austen (nay) than Radcliffe (yay!) so far, but something like a quietly social sage is starting to emerge, I hope. For now, the courtly, Game of Thrones side is at the forefront of my thoughts, but if Tsia ends up on the expedition I'm sure there will be ample opportunity to feel out how her weird, fey magic might work, in addition to gossip and "the best sweeteners of tea." :) Good luck, all!
Again, just for ease of reference, a tentative list of folks who have expressed interest: Critzible - Lady Ionnia Orlovsky, human cleric
I hope I haven't missed anyone! I'll think about getting bits and bobs together for a final submission for Tsia soonish. Good luck, everyone! :)
Still here (Qunnessaa, posting under her proposed character’s alias), enjoying dreaming up ways my character might fit into the campaign. Since, as a silksworn occultist, Tsia’s very much a “courtly intrigue” sort of character, I’d like to think part of her narrative arc might be just how quickly she gets her fingers into how many pies, even as she’s an outlandish creature from over the eastern mountains with her own distant past and somewhat mysterious motivations. That said, some more particular starting points would be natural for her. Spoilers in spirit of GM’s outline in opening post:
While Tsia is most interested in the Stolen Lands for their elven connections from before Earthfall, the most topical current issues for an Iobarian who likes to think of herself as reasonably well-informed are the civil war that’s brewing in Brevoy and the question of what all’s going on with Choral the Conqueror. Before the start of the campaign and looping back to Restov, I’ve imagined that she’s already caused/run into/got dragged into a spot of trouble in Pitax (which might come in handy for plot hooks later), and may have swung through Varnhold and the foothills of the Tors of Levenies, where she would still be foreign enough not to realize that the locals mightn’t appreciate that she meant “cyclopean” literally when joining discussions about huge, strange carvings higher (and deeper) in the mountains. (“The 'Lenyenko Dark?' Can’t say I know it well, dear heart, but surely the general idea is obvious?” ;) ) One way to nudge all of that closer to the “Overplot” and the “Shadow Plot,” perhaps, given Tsia’s eastern roots and concerns about dragons, might be that, in passing by Lake Silverstep, she heard rumours about a special sword from a dragon’s hoard (which isn’t Briar), and whose significance she is not yet in a position to understand. Since shadow magic offers ways of expanding one’s spell repertoire of interest to someone with limited spells known, if Tsia does start putting the pieces together and ends up visiting the Fellnight, she could conceivably be tempted to share what she knows with an offer she can’t refuse. (A certain staff is something she would be very interested in.) Anyway! Just to make it a bit easier to see who’s all here, maybe start idly thinking of possible connections, and because I’ve seen similar in other recruitments, here’s a very tentative list of names and ideas I think we’re seeing here? I’m sorry if I’ve missed anyone, and if this is a useful sort of thing for GM Hurley, I’m happy to post an updated list once or twice before new submissions close next week: Daniel Stewart – (possibly a gnome?)
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