Suppose someone forges a masterwork butchering axe (or any colossal melee weapon really, but the butchering axe is interesting) of colossal size, enhances it to +1 and applies the Impact special ability to it.
What damage does it deal? A colossal Butchering Axe deals 12d6 damage, in case this helps you figuring out an answer.
If you need some excuse for how this might be happen, consider a gish casting Greater Object Possession on a colossal statue and grabbing the axe.
Just to get you started, I've ruminated a bit on the subject. Extending the progression yields 16d6, up from 12d6.
Of course, it's entirely possible that the fact that Colossal is the largest size around means that a weapon cannot be bigger than colossal for the purpose of dealing damage. This is my main problem.
Discuss. I'd be glad to see arguments founded in RAW, but I acknowledge that such RAW is scarce and tangential at best, which is why I come to you.
The Strangler Brawler archetype gets this ability:
Strangle (Ex) wrote:
At 1st level, a strangler deals +1d6 sneak attack damage whenever she succeeds at a grapple check to damage or pin an opponent. The strangler is always considered flanking her target for the purpose of using this ability. This damage increases by +1d6 at 2nd, 8th and 15th levels.
This ability replaces unarmed strike and brawler’s flurry.
The bolded part is important. My question is this: Does a Strangler Brawler get to add the +2 bonus for flanking to his CMB roll, which is per definition also an attack roll?
Does the character get to add other abilities that rely on flanking to the attack?
This includes, but is of course not limited to sneak attack from other sources, such as the snakebite brawler archetype.
We're looking for two more people to join our game as replacements for a pair that dropped out. We've a pretty good group going, and I really appreciate that there's some rythm to our posts. In light of that, I'd prefer people who can post once per day or so.
The story: our adventurers are just beginning to learn that what seemed to be a series of hobgoblin raids might be something greater than it initially seemed. You'll join them in protecting the Elsir Vale from the growing hobgoblin threat. Practically speaking, your characters should have some sort of reason to be in or near the Witchwood, which is situated in the south-eastern part of the Elsir Vale. You might be travelers from Cheliax or Andoran, people native to the region, or simply passing through in either direction. I believe you will start out as having been captured by hobgoblin raiders - that'll probably be the easiest way for me to fit you into the story.
The Setting: It's set in Golarion, with the Elsir Vale plugging in for the country of Isger. It is in much the same political situation as Isger is, which is to say that it pays taxes to Cheliax, and the Hellknights keep an active hand in defending the trade route to the north, while the south-eastern part of the Vale is more or less allowed to fend for itself, having become a patchwork of Baronies and semi-sovereign towns and city councils. It also serves as a military buffer between Cheliax and Andoran.
The party: The current group consists of
Bran O'Dimm, human unholy martial multiclass, he's a former slave gladiator from Cheliax, upstanding guy, fond of grappling things.
Iris, "The blue fox", halfling rogue and trickster. She's fond of misdirecting her enemies, and was raised by foxes.
Tal'Ariel, disillusioned elven rogue/wizard, wields an elven curve blade. (Is a lot more of a front-liner than you'd think)
Zelligar the Mystic, halfling cleric of Nethys, and lover of magic. (Is a lot more of a wizard than you'd think)
Character Creation
House rules: We use the E6 variant. This means that, once you reach level six, you will no longer gain levels. Instead, you'll gain a feat for every 5000xp you attain.
Starting level: 5. You're fairly experienced adventurers, or otherwise skilled individuals, but you're not yet at your peak of ability.
Starting Wealth: WBL for 5th.
Ability Scores: Choose one of the following sets before applying bonuses and penalties.
17/16/14/13/10/8
16/16/15/14/13/8
Hp: Max at all HD. This goes for companions too, but not summoned creatures.
Traits: 2.
Variant Rules: "Extra options" presented as variant rules (i.e. variant multiclassing or Wordcasting) are allowed; changes to how the game functions (i.e. revised action economy) are not. No race builder.
Sources: Generally speaking, all paizo content is allowed. Keep it sane with the races please, though.
We're mainly looking for consistent posters to replace the two that flaked out - build concerns are secondary. That said, the party recently found out that they have trouble handle flying creatures, and that they might need some more crowd control. There's also been some few comments to the effect that I'm going hard at them with difficult encounters and such, which might be true.
So, I've been looking at prestige classes lately, and it seems like to be an agent of most organizations on Golarion, you have to be level 6+, or at least that a significant number of the membership is level 6+, and are prone to having certain talents.
This of course got me wondering about the average level and class of NPCs.
Take the hellknights, for example. All the ranking members have slain a bearded devil in single combat. If someone got serious about invading or rebelling against Cheliax, presumably they'd send the hellknights to drive them back. Now, I know that there's also the Armigers, but even those have been statted up as 3rd level fighters.
I dunno, I just think it's interesting to think about. Are there a bunch of Wizard 3/Cleric 3/Hellknight Signifer 3/MT 7's running around in Cheliax? Hell, are there entire legions of sixth-to-sixteenth level NPCs around?
And yet, this all seems contrary to the various APs that deal with civilization. A certain amount of fitting levels to the story you're telling is expected, of course, but it still seems a little wierd.
I'm strength based, juts hit level 7. We're playing skull's and shackles, and wealth by level is out the window due to a combination of perhaps excessive treasure hunting/extensive crafting.
As for race, I'm a human, reincarnated as an Aasimar.
Concerns:
My AC felt low-ish for the party (I'm joined on the frontlines by a swashbuckler), but this has been more or less resolved by the medium armor I can now wear. Probably. I also found a +1 insight to AC ioun stone, so that helped.
My main concern as far as my effectiveness goes is that I don't feel like I do a ton of damage - my shocking grasp is kind of a one-and-done, and my to hit is low compared to the ranger and . My main concern is my to hit, but my actual hits devoid of shocking grasp also feel a little light on the damage. I'm mainly doing damage these days by stacking elemental damage dice onto my cutlass via arcane pool.
And I'm out to see what I can do with that feat slot.
Also, if anyone have recommendations for magic items, ideally either wondrous ones or weapon/armor specials, I would much appreciate it. I'm looking at a Bane Baldric and +1 insight to hit Ioun Stone (5k) right now, as my next purchases.
As for the rest of the party, we've got an ogre with a minotaur double crossbow, a strix ranger, and a tengu swashbuckler (reincarnated halfling, getting him new gear was a b~$*% and a half), an extremely wierd human shipwreck/boot/sea turtle themed oracle, along with a druid, an unchained monk and an arcanist, but those last three are infrequent players to say the least.
The long and the short of it is that me and the swashbuckler holds the frontline, while the archers stand behind us.
It's been three days since your party left civilization behind. You've been headed north across the plains and rolling hills, following directions given by locals, and just last night, you reached what you're sure is the entrance to the Valley of Shrines. It's a narrow dirt path, weaving through the hills, its beginning marked by a pair of white marble obelisks, cracked and weathered with age.
Even derelict and long forgotten, the obelisks seemed to excude an aura of peace, and you decided to make camp beside them.
The next morning, you follow the trail into the hills.
It takes the better part of the day, but you eventually make it to the end of the trail. The valley floor opens up around you, stretching for miles ahead. To the north, you spot a lake, with a pair of white marble temples sitting on your side of the shore.
Much, much further to the northwest, you can just glimpse what has to be a fairly large forest.
All around, the hills rise above you, eventually giving way to the Stoneheart Mountains proper.
Map of the Valley of Shrines.You're at the end of the Ancient Path, just south of the Shrines and the Crystal Lake. You've travelled for six hours today, so you have two hours left before you start in on the Forced March checks.
Welcome to! I need to set up some stuff real quick. In the meantime, feel free to go over your sheets one last time. Some of you don't have darkvision, so make sure you bring a light source! Likewise, you should have some stuff for camping outdoors, like a tent and a bedroll.
Even discounting all travel times inside the Valley of Shrines itself, you're three days away from the nearest point of civilization, so you should be able to go a while without resupplying.
In ages past, two vast temples to Thyr and Muir were erected in Bard’s Gate at the founding of that great city that still stands today. The priestly followers of these noble gods erected smaller duplicates of the twin temples in a small, secluded valley to the north of the city, adjacent to a lake of crystalline clarity. This valley became known as the Valley of the Shrines. In the nearby hills they also carved burial halls to house their fallen heroes and worshipers. For years the worship of Thyr and Muir thrived, producing heroes and paladins of legend, some of whom are
entombed in the burial halls.
But new gods came, replacing the older gods. And the worship of Thyr and Muir in the secluded valley — both demanding deities — waned in favor of the more liberal gods of song, craft and commerce in the city of Bard’s Gate. Unable to maintain both the twin temples in Bard’s Gate and the complex in the Valley of the Shrines, the priests of Thyr and Muir sealed the northern shrines in the valley and returned their worship to the temples in the city. Abandoned, the burial halls still remained sacred places, and small groups of pilgrims continued to make treks to the sealed temples to pay respect to their fallen predecessors and to peer into the crystalline lake.
As the years passed, the shrines in the northern valley increasingly fell to disuse and ruin. Only a handful of devoted priests, led by the high priest Abysthor, were left to continue the elaborate rituals of their gods. Even the great twin temples in Bard’s Gate began to deteriorate. Despite Abysthor’s devotion, his temple and the worship of his gods in general waned. In his final years, Abysthor spent many hours in the main temple in Bard’s Gate in communion with his deity. Declaring he had received a great vision, he traveled alone — aged and infirm — to the Valley of the Shrines, claiming he would return soon and that the glory of Thyr and Muir would be restored. Abysthor never returned. Some said he had gone there to die and had done so alone because no other priest could cast the spells necessary to consecrate him properly. Many groups of priests followed after him, though none could brave the corruption that had infested the burial halls since they had been abandoned.
Abysthor’s failed quest was taken as a sign of decline. It has been some twenty years since Abysthor disappeared. Only a handful of priests remain in the temples in Bard’s Gate, their cavernous temples falling to disuse, bereft of worshipers.
Your group has come together to delve into the burial halls at the fabled Valley of Shrines.
Rough setting information.
The adventure takes place several weeks' travel north of the thriving metropolis of Bard's Gate, in the foothills of the Stoneheart Mountains.
Nearby lie several villages and towns, some of which are described below. In paranthesises is noted how long it takes to get there from the entrance to the Valley of Shrines.
Crimmor(3 days)
The closest village to the Valley, but a dreary place. It's an open secret that a prominent thieves guild in Bard's Gate use the village as a hideaway. Back in the day, it was a fishing village, but at this point, there are few fish left in lake Crimmormere, and the villagers are more or less at the mercy of the Guild's whims.
Still, an adventuring party can rest here, and there's an opportunity to sell at least inexpensive magic items.
The Grove of the Moon(4 days)
Not a settlement as such, this site nevertheless holds interest to adventurers. A circle of druids gather here, and although they're not particularly welcoming of outsiders, it's possible that they might be persuaded to provide healing, divination and the like.
Fairhill (6 days)
Another village, structured around a temple to the local deity Freya. The community leader is also their priest, a formidable half-elven cleric called Shandril.
Taverlan(2 weeks)
A fairly unremarkable village to the north, it's nevertheless notable for the fact that a powerful mage has settled his tower nearby. A fervent devotee of Nethys, he's only slightly more predictable than his deity, but can generally be relied on to perform spellcasting services to those with the coin to pay.
Bard's Gate(4½ weeks)
A thriving metropolis. At least one of anything and everything can be found here.
As for the Pantheon, we will use the standard pathfinder pantheon, and we're also cribbing their cosmology, not that it's particularly relevant to this game.
Two dead deities that are important to this game are Thyr and Muir:
Thyr was a god of justice. After his fall, his domain has largely been usurped by Abadar and Iomedae. Lawful Good, leaning Lawful.
Muir was a godess representing three virtues, Truth, Honor and Courage. She has largely been replaced by Iomedae. Lawful Good, leaning Good.
Both deities are dead, no longer ordaining paladins and clerics.
Character Creation. Stats: roll two sets of 4d6b3. If you dislike both, you may roll a third set, but then you're stuck with it. You may freely reroll any set that does not add up to a +3 modifier total, or which does not contain at least one score of 15 or higher.
HP: max at 1st level, roll for following levels. You may choose to reroll hit points, but you're stuck with the new result.
Traits: 2, no drawbacks.
Material: Any official Paizo.
Races: All races below 20 RP are good.
Potential hooks for your characters, for inspiration:
Grave Robbery Ancient burial halls sounds like a nice place to find treasure to you.
Pilgrimage Many a great hero lies interred in the burial halls in the valley, and perhaps greatest among them is Alaria the Wise. Praying at her tomb was a rite of passage for paladins of Muir, and while you're not yourself a follower of the goddess, you have learned of this tradition from elsewhere, and wish to make your own obedience.
Site of Power Where ley lines intersect, magical power bubbles to the surface. These sites are invaluable resources for anyone seeking to work magic on a grand scale. Whether it be from rumor or your own arcane research, you know that one such site of power lies within the valley. If you can confirm its prescence, and root out any competing cults, mages or dragons that might try to lay claim to it, you could sell its location to the archmage of the Bard's Gate college for an enormous sum. Alternatively, you may seek to possess the site for yourself.
Local Hero For years now, brutish, black-robed men have periodically been spotted travelling through the villages around the Valley of Shrines. Although they were unsavory types, they kept to themselves, until recently. Small raiding parties of these robed thugs have been kidnapping travellers for the last month or so, and you're going to set things right.
Divine Vision Your deity has sent you a vision of hideous monsters roving once-hallowed halls, in a temple cut from the mountains beyond a path marked with white obelisks. You feel called to bring an end to the corruption. Fervent study revealed that white obelisks were used to mark the pilgrimmage route through the wilderness north of Bard's Gate.
Or... You make up your own reason to have joined the group. If you make up a hook that needs something to be present in the dungeon, I'll most likely put it there to oblige you.
A final note: Your fluff is at least as important as your crunch. It doesn't have to be Shakespear, but dungeons and dragons without roleplaying, to me, is no dungeons and dragons at all. Your fluff (and full disclosure, potentially some light profile stalking on my part) is where I get to see that you can roleplay.
I happen to have copies of these sandboxy, old-school quality dungeon crawls from Frog God Games. I'd like to run them on the forums, if there's interest for it.
The first adventure is an excersize in spelunking and evil frogs, while the second features the adventurers delving into the ruins of evil Minas Tirith.
There's also fluff blurbs from both adventures here, which are longwinded as all getout.
Tomb of Abysthor Fluff:
In ages past, two vast temples to Thyr and Muir were erected in Bard’s
Gate at the founding of that great city that still stands today. The priestly
followers of these noble gods erected smaller duplicates of the twin
temples in a small, secluded valley to the north of the city, adjacent to a
lake of crystalline clarity. This valley became known as the Valley of the
Shrines. In the nearby hills they also carved burial halls to house their
fallen heroes and worshipers. For years the worship of Thyr and Muir
thrived, producing heroes and paladins of legend, some of whom are
entombed in the burial halls.
But new gods came, replacing the older gods. And the worship of Thyr
and Muir in the secluded valley — both demanding deities — waned in
favor of the more liberal gods of song, craft and commerce in the city of
Bard’s Gate. Unable to maintain both the twin temples in Bard’s Gate and
the complex in the Valley of the Shrines, the priests of Thyr and Muir
sealed the northern shrines in the valley and returned their worship to
the temples in the city. Abandoned, the burial halls still remained sacred
places, and small groups of pilgrims continued to make treks to the sealed
temples to pay respect to their fallen predecessors and to peer into the
crystalline lake.
As the years passed, the shrines in the northern valley increasingly fell
to disuse and ruin. Only a handful of devoted priests, led by the high priest
Abysthor, were left to continue the elaborate rituals of their gods. Even the
great twin temples in Bard’s Gate began to deteriorate. Despite Abysthor’s
devotion, his temple and the worship of his gods in general waned. In his
final years, Abysthor spent many hours in the main temple in Bard’s Gate
in communion with his deity. Declaring he had received a great vision, he
traveled alone — aged and infirm — to the Valley of the Shrines, claiming
he would return soon and that the glory of Thyr and Muir would be
restored. Abysthor never returned. Some said he had gone there to die and
had done so alone because no other priest could cast the spells necessary
to consecrate him properly. Many groups of priests followed after him,
though none could brave the corruption that had infested the burial halls
since they had been abandoned.
Abysthor’s failed quest was taken as a sign of decline. It has been some
twenty years since Abysthor disappeared. Only a handful of priests remain
in the temples in Bard’s Gate, their cavernous temples falling to disuse,
bereft of worshipers.
Slumbering Tsar:
The northern wall of Bard’s Gate looks out over a vast river valley
disappearing into purple hills in the hazy distance. The mighty gates fi xed
in that wall rarely open anymore. On the few occasions when the north
gates do open to allow entrance to the occasional merchant caravan or
especially daring traveler, they reveal a wide road, paved with great stone
fl ags forming a smooth and level traveling surface striking due north
for the hills. However, closer inspection reveals the signs of a lack of
maintenance, and after a few miles the road deteriorates into little more
than a wide dirt track, overgrown with weeds and with only the occasional
stone paver visible in the hard soil. It obviously sees little travel and even
less care.
Few stand atop Bard’s Gate’s north wall and gaze out upon that hazy
vista or care to think about what lies beyond those distant highlands.
Fewer still are brave or foolish enough to make the journey in that
direction. Bard’s Gate relies on its commerce from other roads in other
directions and pays no mind to the north, for to the north, beyond the
village of Taverlan and the distant purple hills and across many leagues,
lies the reminder of one of the most tragic moments in the history of the
civilized kingdoms. To those who even care to remember, the north gate
leads only to bad memories or mournful legend. To the rest it leads to
where only madmen would dare to go—the ruined city of Tsar and the
great Desolation that surrounds it.
Tsar, the great temple-city to the Demon Prince of the Undead, stood for
centuries as a bastion of evil and hate. Foul beings of all kinds fl ocked to
its mighty walls and found succor and purpose within. At its heart stood
the great Citadel of Orcus, the black heart of Orcus worship on earth.
Countless evils were perpetuated in those corrupt precincts, and equally
countless wicked plots were hatched and carried out therein.
Finally the goodly kingdoms could stand the presence of this festering
boil in their midst no longer. The churches of Thyr and Muir led a
delegation of good and neutral faiths to Graeltor, the last overking. Only
with the backing of the nations’ secular armies would the holy churches
be able to erase such a blight. In his last major pronouncement before the
overthrow and fracturing of the kingdoms into the independent nations
they are today, Overking Graeltor called for a mighty crusade to tear down
the walls of Tsar and forever end the presence of Orcus worship in the
world.
This crusader army, raised from all nations and almost every nonevil
faith, became known as the Army of Light and marched for Tsar.
In command of this army Graeltor placed his most trusted advisor, the
archmage Zelkor. Supported by innumerable knight commanders,
wizards, church patriarchs and scores of heroes of renown, Zelkor quickly
advanced his army from its staging ground of Bard’s Gate, through Tsar’s
outermost defensive positions and into the great plain that surrounded
the temple-city itself. Flush with their many quick victories, the Army of
Light suddenly found arrayed against itself seemingly endless legions of
every sort of vile warrior-race and fell outsider imaginable called up from
all over the multiverse and lining the battlements and fields before their
redoubt—one of the greatest fortresses and citadels ever erected in that
time. The beginnings of doubt seeped into the ranks of the Army of Light.
However, hope was not lost as the heavens opened up and flight upon
flight of angels and celestial beings descended from on high to swell the
ranks of the Army of Light. With grim determination in both camps, battle
was joined on the plain before the gates of Tsar. The war raged for over a
year, the Army of Light advancing to the very foot of the walls and then
being pushed back by a new surge of demonic power. The disciples of
Orcus led by the Grand Cornu, Orcus’s single highest-ranking priest on
the mortal planes, threw every vile attack they could at the Army of Light
in defense of their city. Rains of horrific fire and acid fell from the skies
or belched from fissures in the ground, great constructs crushed their foes
before them, terrible clouds of poisonous gas choked entire regiments, and
heretofore unknown plagues swept through the troops causing thousands
of horrible deaths among the Army of Light. Nevertheless the forces of
good persevered and fought on.
Finally, though the battle seemed no closer to victory, the fates seemed
to smile on the Army of Light. Unexpectedly the city fell. In a single night
the entire city virtually emptied of defenders as they all were magically
transported to a point several miles outside the city’s walls, complete with
baggage train and mounts for many. The magical expenditure necessary
to complete this miraculous maneuver cost the Grand Cornu his very life
in sacrifice to Orcus, but the legions of the demon prince had broken free
from the Army of Light’s cordon. They immediately took flight before the
stunned Army of Light, heading south.
Zelkor and his fellow commanders were immediately suspicious of this
sudden retreat but could not afford to allow the combined followers of
Orcus concentrated in one place to escape and spread their insidious evil
again. A cursory sweep of the city by scouts proved that the withdrawal
was no ruse, so Zelkor left one of his most powerful knights, the paladin
Lord Bishu, with a company of knights to secure the citadel and hold it
until the Army of Light could return and properly destroy it. Then, still
with a seed of doubt niggling in his mind, Zelkor ordered the Army of
Light in pursuit of the fleeing legions.
The tale of that long pursuit is an epic in and of itself. Finally the Army
of Light cornered the forces of darkness in a forest near a rugged coastline.
In anticipation of a great victory, the forest was prematurely named the
Forest of Hope. The naming proved to be a cruel irony, for in the forest
the followers of Orcus had been preparing a great trap for years in case
just such an occasion ever arose. Both armies disappeared into the forest.
Neither ever emerged. The Army of Light was lost to a man.
The shock of the loss of so many heroes, nobles, and leaders of renown
reverberated throughout the kingdoms. The overking was overthrown in
the unrest that followed. Minor wars erupted as new factions took over
old power bases bereft of their leadership. When all was done and a
semblance of peace returned, the lands looked much more like they do
today. Some said the loss of so many was worth it for the eradication of
the foul cult of Orcus. Others said it had been a scheme concocted by the
demon prince all along to destroy his most powerful enemies and sow
hate and dissension throughout the civilized nations. Years later when a
terrible graveyard and thriving dungeon complex devoted to Orcus was
discovered in the Forest of Hope, popular opinion agreed with the latter
theory. It seemed Orcus had not been eradicated after all, just relocated,
and once again his insidious evil began to spread throughout the lands.
For the past century some attention has been turned to delving into the
so-called Dungeon of Graves and rooting out the evil now entrenched there.
However, what remained of the temple-city
of Tsar was a vast, abandoned ruin surrounded by miles and miles of
poisoned and scarred wasteland left behind by the battling armies. It was
all but forgotten as a bad memory of despair with no value save as an
eyesore and wilderness home for strange and fearsome beasts that moved
into the desolate area. The knights of Lord Bishu, left behind at Tsar, were
likewise forgotten as they, too, were never heard from again. In the wake
of the great tragedy at the Forest of Hope, no one thought to check into
the ruins themselves, and all who knew about this relatively small group
that had been sent to the city had perished in Orcus’s trap. The people of
the civilized nations went on with their lives with, perhaps, a little less
hope and optimism than before. Tsar was forgotten, and the land around it
shunned and remembered only as the Desolation.
While the rest of the world looked southwards for the future, some
few remembered the distant exotic markets of the far north. Those brave
or foolish enough to try reopened the trade road that passed through
the Desolation to once again reach those far lands. Those that survived
such treks and were able to trade the rare items they brought back made
fortunes, but most who attempted the dangerous passage died—lost to the
hazards of the Desolation. Eventually a small settlement of cutthroats and
the worst kind of profiteering entrepreneurs sprang up on the southern
fringe of the Desolation. This hole-in-the-wall known simply as the Camp
serves as a staging ground for travelers to hire mercenary guards or fast
mounts for the perilous run through the Desolation. Likewise it serves
as a point of relative safety for those few managing to make it through
from the north with or without goods in tow, often with denizens of the
Desolation in hot pursuit. There is little to this unruly, fringe settlement,
and many meet their fates on its dirty streets without ever making it to
the Desolation. Regardless, it manages to just barely eke out an existence
serving as a stopping point for those few travelers who dare to make the
run.
Now no one but these miscreants and fortune-seekers pay any attention
to the area and then only so they can pass through the Desolation as quickly
and safely as possible. The temple-city’s ruins are universally avoided
and little thought of. Why would anyone wish to go to almost certain
death? What could still exist in the unknown holes and broken towers
of Orcus’s greatest earthly bastion? What could lie undisturbed, awaiting
some possibly preordained time to awake in the ruins of slumbering Tsar?
I'll need at least six people to do this, and given the nature of the campaign, I need people who're cool with dying and making up new characters from time to time.
Hence the interest check. If people want to play this, I'll DM.
You've travelled to western Andoran, and are just now entering the smaller, wilder nation of the Elsir Vale, where adventure is sure to be abundant.
Perhaps you've joined on a whim, perhaps you were called by rumors of goblins on the warpath.
Either way, travel is boring. You're currently plodding along the road in the shadow of the Aspodell mountains, snaking along a small band of green vegetation, grasslands and copses of trees, before the landscape takes on a more savage nature to the east of you, grass giving way to brown, thorny steppes.
You're set to reach the first real town in the Elsir Vale today, a waystation called Drellin's Ferry.
Map - The orientation is wrong. North is east, if you want to place it into Golarion.
Benefit: Once per day as a move action, you can gain the benefit of a combat feat that you do not possess for 1 minute. You must otherwise meet the feat’s requirements.
If I had already taken Advanced Weapon Training(Abundant Weapon Tactics) as a feat, could I take Advanced Weapon Training(Warrior Spirit) with Barroom Brawler?
My gut instinct is no, but please do provide sources either way. The question could also be asked in a broader sense when it comes to combat feats like weapon focus and others that can be taken multiple times for different options.
So I've decided to type up a campaign log of our Skull's and Shackles campaign. There's going to be spoilers in here, of course, so if you plan on playing through the campaign beware. Our GM has probably also altered a bunch of stuff to account for there being more players at our table than a standard 4man party.
It's also written blurring IC and OOC language. Just how it goes.
The crew:
My character, Quaminiah, Human Hexcrafter Magus, a young sailor down on his luck, and native of Sargava. His mother was a witch, and he's picked up a few tricks of that nature. Character Art.
"The Necromancer 2.0", Cleric of Norboger. A charming fellow, handy in a brawl and always there for a crewmate in need of some healing.
Grag, Ogre gunslinger. He speaks softly and carries a crossbow the size of a small ballista. He has not spoken of his past, and no one else has cared to ask. "Character Art"
"Captain" Miro, halfling swashbuckler. Weak as a kitten and seemingly a bit of a coward. He's good with a rope though, and sings like an angel. Character art.
Ulf Henriksen, Human Monk. A cruel ulfen man, well versed in martial arts.
Polarius, a tower-shield specialist merman(it's as ridiculous as it sounds).
And his brother, the merman barbarian 1/druid x.
Session 1 (Shanghaied!)
We wake up in darkness, headaches pounding and the ground swaying below us. It soon becomes apparent that we're under deck on a ship, accompanied by our drinking companions from the night before. Someone stripped us of all but the clothes on our backs.
It's not long before we're greeted by one mr. Pålsbøl, the boatswain. He's rail-thin dressed in the clothes of a grander man than he, and makes the mistake of trying to kick Grag awake. We instantly dislike the fellow, and the feeling appears mutual. He takes us to meet the captain Barbados. We're not overly enthused, but most of the party respects the fact that he's a badass, and is clearly wearing multiple magic items.
The party is set to work under the direction of the first mate, mr. Plugg, and the players are introduced to the concept of nighttime and daytime 'ship actions', which seem to amount to stealing, looting or talking. Eh, whatever. Some NPC gets executed for stealing from the "shop", and the party resolves to leave the shop and the officers' stuff alone. Apparently, our gear has been stolen and is being kept in this shop of theirs.
They feed us crap on the Wormwood, but there's plenty of rum to go round. The Strix, Mina, turns up her nose at the drunk humans wallowing in their filth, and the boatswain is quick to make sure she downs it. Apparently not getting drunk is a punishable offence. There's also no nightshift on this ship, as far as we can tell.
We set about getting our gear back. Grag's crossbow has been stowed with the siege weaponry, and he's able to watch over and take it for himself without anyone stopping him or otherwise commenting. The rest of us is worse off.
In the morning, our attempt to muster on deck is interrupted by six never-do-wells, so we beat them up. It does wonders for group morale, and we present ourselves to mr. Plugg in good spirits, if sligthly worse for wear.
That night, mr. Pålsbøl gives Mina three lashes for not drinking her rum, and we encounter Sandra, resident cleric of Besmara. She comes bearing gifts, Quaminiah's spellbook for one thing, and information.
She clearly has an agenda. So long as that involves propping us up, Quaminiah has no trouble with it. The rest of the party seems to agree.
It turns out that the thugs who accosted us were cronies of Pålsbøls, and so he continues to fall in our appreciation.
A few of our number spend part of the night investigating the bilges, acquiring the first of much available loot from there.
All in all, we had fun. Pålsbøl seems to be a potential villain, although how we're supposed to be able to off him under the captain's watchful gaze is a bit of a puzzler.
Session 2
Neither the Necromancer 2.0 or the barbarian merman was present for this session, which also accounts for their lack of proper names in this writeup.
We were getting tired of the "ship actions" at this point. They felt fairly arbitrary, so we did our best to rush through them. Bright spots for the first few days included Polarius pledging his trident to Grok the Quartermaster in return for his gear, trading her various items for the return of our property, and the entire party fighting giant rats and spiders in the bilges. We barely fit in there.
Being a group of largely competent sailors, he never had much cause to punish us, but the boatswain continued to harry us nonetheless.
At this point, we had sped up "ship actions" as much as we could - at this point we were mainly focused on making diplomacy checks, reasoning that if we were going to get Pålsbøl kicked off the ship, we'd need as many allies as we could get. Quaminiah spent his time trying to get in good with the gentle giant they kept chained belowdecks, while the dashing Miro swept the crew away with his songs. Our new friends awarded us with many a sob story of their cruel fates. We helped some of them. Nothing wrong with making friends.
That said, the strix in particular did sneak off and steal things at times. Polarius replaced the other merman in the party as the cook's assistant, as the captain pulled the first one off the job to complete some mysterious task. We hardly saw the guy after that.
Pålsbøl arranged a pit-fight between Ulf and Hudson, the gentle giant. Ulf handled himself well against the halfwit, but when they threw him a club "to even the scales", the martial artist went out like a light.
Brawling against foes wielding superior weaponry was a theme - one night, all of the boatswain's cronies met us on the deck in what we thought were fisticuffs. Alas, they had armed themselves with nightsticks and we were narrowly defeated, the three winners standing beating the lot of us bloody.
We'd have been content to leave it at that, especially as the storm raged above us for two days, and all hands were needed to ride it out.
That was not to be. Pålsbøl had soured the first mate against us, and we rose from the storm met with all the worst duties, the officers arrayed against us. Even that we might have worked through in good spirits, where it not for one final incident.
Pålsbøl and Plugg cornered the Strix, and ordered her to leave her weapons, as she was to report to the bilges, and help a trio of men deal with the mounting rat infestation, pumping water besides.
They caught her there with their cutlasses, and cut her to an inch of her life.
I'm not sure how a 2nd level character is at all supposed to survive this encounter, especially as our GM revealed that he went soft on her - the pirates were supposed to attempt her entirely, according to the AP. Maybe our GM beefed up the stats of the individual pirate to account for our larger party, and failed to take that into account while keeping the 3 pirates down there? They carved her up in two rounds flat, despite the nice tactics she used. Strixes have darkvision, and there's quite a bit of water in the bilges, so she tried to dump the lanterns in the water. Had she succeed in dunking both of them, the trio would have been forced to fight her in the dark.
The rest of us went looking for her when she didn't return, and found her left for dead, but stable, in the bilges.
This would not stand. They'd broken the rules against lethal combat, crossed the line. It demanded an answer.
Our halfling friend in particular, the esteemed "captain" Miro, argued that we ought to shank the trio responsible in their sleep. The strix, once her wounds had been tended to by Sandra, was all for it, but the rest of us argued a mesure of caution. We wanted it public. Determined not to be caught blindsided again, we armed ourselves with nonlethal weaponry, and set out to give Pålsbøl's cronies a proper seeing to.
We meant to find them up on the deck that night, playing cards and drinking as they were wont after the evening meal, but we saw neither hide nor hair of the lot.
Turns out they knew they were in trouble. Upon investigating we found them camped before the stairs to the officers' cabin, certain that we would not dare start a fight while the officers where that close.
So we didn't. We camped out in front of them, figuring we'd pick off whoever got up to take a leak or make their way to their hammocks. No such luck, but Miro had an inspired idea. He set about taunting the cowards, and eventually goaded them into an ill-adviced charge.
Even drawing steel, they were not much match for us, and the only thing saving their hides was the captain coming to investigate the ruckus.
He had half a mind to see the lot of us keelhauled, including, and oh was this music to our ears, the boatswain and first mate, who where tasked to keep the crew under control.
None were punished, as the captain all hands ready for the morrow. Sails had been spotted, and we would be boarding at earliest opportunity.
We went to our hammocks in high spirits, vindicated in having finally struck a blow at the boatswain. It was a sip of the sweet wine of justice, and tomorrow, we feel certain that we will taste victory.
So I've decided to type up a campaign log of our Skull's and Shackles campaign. There's going to be spoilers in here, of course, so if you plan on playing through the campaign beware. Our GM has probably also altered a bunch of stuff to account for there being more players at our table than a standard 4man party.
It's also written blurring IC and OOC language. Just how it goes.
The crew:
My character, Quaminiah, Human Hexcrafter Magus, a young sailor down on his luck, and native of Sargava. His mother was a witch, and he's picked up a few tricks of that nature. Character Art.
"The Necromancer 2.0", Cleric of Norboger. A charming fellow, handy in a brawl and always there for a crewmate in need of some healing.
Grag, Ogre gunslinger. He speaks softly and carries a crossbow the size of a small ballista. He has not spoken of his past, and no one else has cared to ask. "Character Art"
"Captain" Miro, halfling swashbuckler. Weak as a kitten and seemingly a bit of a coward. He's good with a rope though, and sings like an angel. Character art.
Ulf Henriksen, Human Monk. A cruel ulfen man, well versed in martial arts.
Polarius, a tower-shield specialist merman(it's as ridiculous as it sounds).
And his brother, the merman barbarian 1/druid x.
Session 1 (Shanghaied!)
We wake up in darkness, headaches pounding and the ground swaying below us. It soon becomes apparent that we're under deck on a ship, accompanied by our drinking companions from the night before. Someone stripped us of all but the clothes on our backs.
It's not long before we're greeted by one mr. Pålsbøl, the boatswain. He's rail-thin dressed in the clothes of a grander man than he, and makes the mistake of trying to kick Grag awake. We instantly dislike the fellow, and the feeling appears mutual. He takes us to meet the captain Barbados. We're not overly enthused, but most of the party respects the fact that he's a badass, and is clearly wearing multiple magic items.
The party is set to work under the direction of the first mate, mr. Plugg, and the players are introduced to the concept of nighttime and daytime 'ship actions', which seem to amount to stealing, looting or talking. Eh, whatever. Some NPC gets executed for stealing from the "shop", and the party resolves to leave the shop and the officers' stuff alone. Apparently, our gear has been stolen and is being kept in this shop of theirs.
They feed us crap on the Wormwood, but there's plenty of rum to go round. The Strix, Mina, turns up her nose at the drunk humans wallowing in their filth, and the boatswain is quick to make sure she downs it. Apparently not getting drunk is a punishable offence. There's also no nightshift on this ship, as far as we can tell.
We set about getting our gear back. Grag's crossbow has been stowed with the siege weaponry, and he's able to watch over and take it for himself without anyone stopping him or otherwise commenting. The rest of us is worse off.
In the morning, our attempt to muster on deck is interrupted by six never-do-wells, so we beat them up. It does wonders for group morale, and we present ourselves to mr. Plugg in good spirits, if sligthly worse for wear.
That night, mr. Pålsbøl gives Mina three lashes for not drinking her rum, and we encounter Sandra, resident cleric of Besmara. She comes bearing gifts, Quaminiah's spellbook for one thing, and information.
She clearly has an agenda. So long as that involves propping us up, Quaminiah has no trouble with it. The rest of the party seems to agree.
It turns out that the thugs who accosted us were cronies of Pålsbøls, and so he continues to fall in our appreciation.
A few of our number spend part of the night investigating the bilges, acquiring the first of much available loot from there.
All in all, we had fun. Pålsbøl seems to be a potential villain, although how we're supposed to be able to off him under the captain's watchful gaze is a bit of a puzzler.
Session 2
Neither the Necromancer 2.0 or the barbarian merman was present for this session, which also accounts for their lack of proper names in this writeup.
We were getting tired of the "ship actions" at this point. They felt fairly arbitrary, so we did our best to rush through them. Bright spots for the first few days included Polarius pledging his trident to Grok the Quartermaster in return for his gear, trading her various items for the return of our property, and the entire party fighting giant rats and spiders in the bilges. We barely fit in there.
Being a group of largely competent sailors, he never had much cause to punish us, but the boatswain continued to harry us nonetheless.
At this point, we had sped up "ship actions" as much as we could - at this point we were mainly focused on making diplomacy checks, reasoning that if we were going to get Pålsbøl kicked off the ship, we'd need as many allies as we could get. Quaminiah spent his time trying to get in good with the gentle giant they kept chained belowdecks, while the dashing Miro swept the crew away with his songs. Our new friends awarded us with many a sob story of their cruel fates. We helped some of them. Nothing wrong with making friends.
That said, the strix in particular did sneak off and steal things at times. Polarius replaced the other merman in the party as the cook's assistant, as the captain pulled the first one off the job to complete some mysterious task. We hardly saw the guy after that.
Pålsbøl arranged a pit-fight between Ulf and Hudson, the gentle giant. Ulf handled himself well against the halfwit, but when they threw him a club "to even the scales", the martial artist went out like a light.
Brawling against foes wielding superior weaponry was a theme - one night, all of the boatswain's cronies met us on the deck in what we thought were fisticuffs. Alas, they had armed themselves with nightsticks and we were narrowly defeated, the three winners standing beating the lot of us bloody.
We'd have been content to leave it at that, especially as the storm raged above us for two days, and all hands were needed to ride it out.
That was not to be. Pålsbøl had soured the first mate against us, and we rose from the storm met with all the worst duties, the officers arrayed against us. Even that we might have worked through in good spirits, where it not for one final incident.
Pålsbøl and Plugg cornered the Strix, and ordered her to leave her weapons, as she was to report to the bilges, and help a trio of men deal with the mounting rat infestation, pumping water besides.
They caught her there with their cutlasses, and cut her to an inch of her life.
I'm not sure how a 2nd level character is at all supposed to survive this encounter, especially as our GM revealed that he went soft on her - the pirates were supposed to attempt her entirely, according to the AP. Maybe our GM beefed up the stats of the individual pirate to account for our larger party, and failed to take that into account while keeping the 3 pirates down there? They carved her up in two rounds flat, despite the nice tactics she used. Strixes have darkvision, and there's quite a bit of water in the bilges, so she tried to dump the lanterns in the water. Had she succeed in dunking both of them, the trio would have been forced to fight her in the dark.
The rest of us went looking for her when she didn't return, and found her left for dead, but stable, in the bilges.
This would not stand. They'd broken the rules against lethal combat, crossed the line. It demanded an answer.
Our halfling friend in particular, the esteemed "captain" Miro, argued that we ought to shank the trio responsible in their sleep. The strix, once her wounds had been tended to by Sandra, was all for it, but the rest of us argued a mesure of caution. We wanted it public. Determined not to be caught blindsided again, we armed ourselves with nonlethal weaponry, and set out to give Pålsbøl's cronies a proper seeing to.
We meant to find them up on the deck that night, playing cards and drinking as they were wont after the evening meal, but we saw neither hide nor hair of the lot.
Turns out they knew they were in trouble. Upon investigating we found them camped before the stairs to the officers' cabin, certain that we would not dare start a fight while the officers where that close.
So we didn't. We camped out in front of them, figuring we'd pick off whoever got up to take a leak or make their way to their hammocks. No such luck, but Miro had an inspired idea. He set about taunting the cowards, and eventually goaded them into an ill-adviced charge.
Even drawing steel, they were not much match for us, and the only thing saving their hides was the captain coming to investigate the ruckus.
He had half a mind to see the lot of us keelhauled, including, and oh was this music to our ears, the boatswain and first mate, who where tasked to keep the crew under control.
None were punished, as the captain all hands ready for the morrow. Sails had been spotted, and we would be boarding at earliest opportunity.
We went to our hammocks in high spirits, vindicated in having finally struck a blow at the boatswain. It was a sip of the sweet wine of justice, and tomorrow, we feel certain that we will taste victory.
It's a classic adventure. As travelling adventurers coming to the Elsir Vale, you soon stumble into a plot woven by the sinister Red Hand, aiming to forge a goblin nation from the fires of the Elsir Vale and unleash a long-bound evil. Basically business as usual.
But it's Golarion
For our purposes, the Elsir Vale replaces the country of Isger in Golarion. Cheliax and Andoran are the nearest countries to have been developed by pathfinder, so if you need some setting hooks, those are the main options to go for. You'll be travelling into the Elsir Vale from the Andoranian side.
I may throw a Chelian or Andoranian subplot in there, but eh. It's mostly to make writing backstories easier on you guys.
But it's E6
E6 is a variant rule where leveling stops once you reach level 6. No-one in this setting has more than 6 class levels. Once you hit level 6, you gain a bonus feat for every 5000xp you earn after that.
Character Creation
Starting level: 4. You're fairly experienced adventurers, or otherwise skilled individuals, but you're not yet at your peak of ability.
Starting Wealth: WBL for 4th.
Ability Scores: Choose one of the following sets before applying bonuses and penalties.
17/16/14/13/10/8
16/16/15/14/13/8
Hp: Max at all HD. This goes for companions too, but not summoned creatures.
Traits: 2.
Variant Rules: "Extra options" presented as variant rules (i.e. variant multiclassing or Wordcasting) are allowed; changes to how the game functions (i.e. revised action economy) are not. No race builder.
Sources: Generally speaking, all paizo content is allowed. Keep it sane with the races please, though.
