Doctor M.E. Scalawag's page

I am sorry to call this out; I don't want it to go unremarked upon here and so I am posting in the thread rather than through a PM... I am grateful for all the games you run here and respectfully ask, GM to GM, that you take care to ensure everyone feels welcome to participate.

Thank you. I'm glad you did it publicly, and not via PM.

Kudos and thanks to the others who voiced their support of your message. Apologies to all.

(EDITED TO ADD: In addition, it seems I need a personal, public apology to Dien. I greatly appreciate the lengthy, thoughtful response.)

We are still looking for one more seat for "City of Strangers, Part II." (Tier 3-4, CORE). Scalawag won't be making an appearance there.

A dashing gnome walks in and looks up at the sign above the bar. "Flaxseed, huh? Most of my seeds are called 'wild oats', if you know what I mean."

He climbs up on the bar after an "accidental" fondle ("Sorry 'bout that. My fault."), and waves his arms to get everyone's attention.

It doesn't seem to work, and he shoots off a flare and raises his voice.

"Ahem!"

"That's better."

"I was just up by Kaer Maga, and heard a group of Pathfinders needs some help against 'fake' Pathfinders. Shadow Lodge, something-something-er-other. Not clear on the details. But one or two of you should go help."

After a brief hiatus, GM Crucible is moving to Part Two of City of Strangers (#52).

We've lost a player after Part I (real life work), and have a seat to fill. Tier 3–4 CORE. If you're interested, add your name to the sign up sheet, and Crucible will pick or roll for someone when he gets around to it (the next day or so).

"Hah! I found them!"

A small monkey familiar joins Scalawag, chittering excitedly. The gnome continues, "I was playing with my monkey, and it just came to me. I know where to find them!"

"You should go here," (at this, the gnome points to a cloud in the sky), "and I'll tell you how I'm feeling."

"[...] Why I just escorted a small group of Pathfinders there myself... I wonder how they're doing?"

"Why must you be so sizeist, green one? Just because they're small doesn't mean they're not experienced!"

"I myself have a great deal of experience, if you know what I mean." The small gnome waggles his eyebrows at the ladies as he says this last bit.

Did our chronicles ever get posted?

"From that useless avatar of fate? Hah!"

"Sleeping on the job, that one." The gnome makes 'air quotes' with his tiny hands. "And not the kind of 'sleeping' that is a good deal of fun, if you know what I mean."

"That useless lout is so awful he makes experienced bards flee from his storytelling and chroniclers despair that history will ever be properly recorded."

"Oh, hey! Fancy meeting you here. Just passing through visiting a merchant's daughter, if you know what I mean."

The gnome eyes Doodle. "Aren't you a nice fresh slice of pie! I've got a room nearby if you have some time later this evening."

"Anyways, I hear you've been asking about Besel Ardoc. I saw him this morning down by that disgusting troll Augur temple—called Augur’s Entrails, I think. Nothing wrong with trolls, mind, if you can get past the smell. The women have ... well, let's just say that description isn't fit for polite company."

"Finding Augur's Entrails is easy enough. There’s a troll on the sign pullin’ his own damn entrails out on the sign. You won’t catch me drinking there, but I saw Besel and his iron monsters there this morning.”

"Wish I could tell you more, but I have a liaison to get to, if you catch my meaning. And don't forget, dear gnome," (he winks again at Doodle), "I'm just down the street if you're interested."

A dashing-looking gnome opens the door of Flaxssed and wanders in proudly. His expensive clothes suggest an eye for fashion and wealth, even if they are a bit frayed at the edges. He sidles up to the first female he can find, and when she turns away, unperturbedly moves to the next one.

"So, my dear, are you new here?"

"I heard someone say something about 'joining', 'interest', and 'first time', so naturally my curiosity was piqued, if you know what I mean."

"I can be a fighter and a lover, ... I'll be whatever you want me to be, honey buns."

This Gameplay thread is more interesting (to some of us, anyway) when it's kept *in character*. A special thanks to those GMs that do so.

Can I suggest that instead of "I'm in" type posts, players simply utilize each GM's spreadsheet instead?

As a courtesy to the rest of us, may I suggest party planning (and stuff not of interest to those not at the table) should happen in that table's discussion thread?

The halfling pulls his wand, and heads south with the group. "I told you I was trained as a witch, right?"

Well, if you encounter anything that you can't handle, I can teach you what to say. Open your mouth wide, and call, 'Ooo eee, ooo ah ah ting tang walla walla——'"

"Hurry, we must help defend the Lodge!" Doctor Scalawag cries. He tries to show a brave face, but his monkey retreats inside his vest in fear.

"There are three main areas: northeast, northwest, and south. South has the most civilians, but I'm sure all areas could benefit from our might! Let's not worry about Skyreach for now. I'm sure the guards have it sealed tight."

"I'm sure you mentioned something about Role Playing in your discussion back in the lecture hall.." muses Prisim to Gailen.

Doctor Scalawag considers that for a moment, and then belatedly laughs into his sleeve. "You can always pretend to be you, my dear."

The halfling follows the group like a lost puppy, and tries to get a seat between two of the ladies.

Mander Wildthorn nearly chokes at Gailen's passionate debate. He tries hard to keep from blushing and has difficulty looking her in the eye for several minutes afterward.

"Pau, my dear chap, those words might be misconstrued as a bit of sour grapes! Truly there is beauty in all good things, just some are more beautiful than others. It's also in the eye of the beholder! In your case, I'm sure someone will find you beautiful. Eventually. At least from a few dozen yards away." He tries to pat the much larger monk on the back, but can't quite reach, and pulls his hand back at the last minute.

"Oh, by the way," he says as he leans in conspiratorially. "Rumor has it that Mister Grumpypants himself, The Master of Scowls (I mean, er, Master of Spells), Aram Zey was to deliver the keynote address but begged out of the 'privilege.' I heard he thinks of the Grand Convocation as a colossal waste of time and money. Marcos Farabellus, Master of Swords, volunteered to take his place, so now we have to listen to him instead."

"I wonder what Zey is up to, instead of joining us for insightful lectures, feats of strength and gazing at beautiful women."

"Wow you girls are amazing. Especially you!" he says, nodding in the general direction of all of the ladies.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you two are useful," he adds, beckoning to Wyatt and Pau. "But you're clearly not adherents of the god of beauty, if you take my meaning."

His monkey chitters confirmation from under his vest.

The halfling looks down and whispers under his breath. "Yes, yes, I already told them they were pretty. ... What do you mean you like Apollyana better than me? Don't say such things or I'll stop showing you in public." He smiles wryly, a bit embarrassed.

"Good golly, there was a great bit of gossip following the six of you! I could hardly keep up, with you going in different directions. Sorry I was only able to see some of the performances." He doesn't look particularly sorry that he missed watching Wyatt and Pau, but there is a genuineness about him that is hard to discount.

"Anyway, let's see ...The Decemvirate has spent loads of money bringing in Pathfinders from as far away as everywhere (is that a real place?) to get as many people here as they could. Money covers many faults, as they say."

"Some of that money went to expand the menagerie for this event. Seeing all of it would probably take a full day. People are saying it's fantastic, although the scenery here is pretty good too." He winks at the girls.

"To top it off, Venture Captians from far away are vying for consideration from the Decemverate. Maybe we'll see changes soon? There are so many VCs visiting that Arliss Hall,—where they're boarded—is changing by the hour! (It gets bigger on the inside as it needs to, dontcha know.) I hear the halls are changing so much now that some of the VCs are still lost in there!"

"So, everyone who's anyone is talking about the Sky Key. I hear they put it in a strange chamber with no corners along the walls, floor, and ceiling to help shield it from strange otherworldly entities. (Maybe they task the novices to clean the corners as a joke?) Anyway, this year’s keynote speech is allegedly all about the Sky Key. So either it will be really interesting, or a bunch of codgers talking about old people things."

"That's enough from me, I think. Man, I'm talking more than my Auntie after a few glasses of dwarven brandy. And that's no way to treat a lady! Tell me more about you? Even better, tell me more about us!"

1d8 ⇒ 2

The Doctor watches Pau's feat with awe. "Wow! You like to look at things as much as I do!"

The halfling turns to speak to the rest of the party. "The Quadrandle is fuller than it's every been for this convocation! It's even fuller than my Auntie Bristlecomb's place during a family reunion."

"From what I hear, the Society did wonderfully at Nerosyan, and Jormurdun's feats at the sky citadel inspired newbies from all over to join. We have more green been novices than ever before in the Society! I guess everyone is starting to see us as a force for good, and not just stuffy scholarship."

He eyes the women. "Don't get me wrong, there are some things I like to study, but I prefer action, if you know what I mean."

"You should definitely try something!" the too-cheerful Doctor chimes in. "It's a great way to mingle and learn more about the Society. Not everyone is a stuffy as Farabellus. In fact, some of the members are downright fun to look at."

"And that is not a pet, my dear. My monkey is my pride and joy! A wizard has his staff, a fighter has his sword, and I have my monkey. Never go anywhere without him." He smiles innocently at Gailen. "But you should feel free to stop by and play with him any time."

"Oh, let the old codgers feel important, I always say." A dark-skinned halfling wanders up to you, smiling. "We'll have fun in spite of them and their speeches."

"I'm Mander Wildthorn, by the way. Most people just call me 'Doctor'."

He looks the group over. "Whooo-wee! This is definitely the group I want to hang with for a bit! We winks roguishly at the women. "I'm a student of beauty myself, just as I see you pictures of radiance are." He smirks and nods his head at Wyatt. "And clearly you fine ladies could benefit from some masculine eye-candy around these parts."

"So, have you delicious dishes tried any of the contests yet? My monkey and I would be happy to join you."

Before you can be offended at any innendo, you see a small monkey slip from under his Mander's vest and settle on his shoulder. You could swear the monkey winks at you.