Still interested and character redone! So re-read the (longer) background.
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Will be submitting this character, though don't take it as a complete submission (in fact don't click through) because I'm planning some major refactoring. Just want my name on the board.
Ilya pops his head up to check on the others, and then quickly falls back down into his hiding place. As he does so Sevastjan eases out of his satchel and gives the sylph an accusing look. "Oh? You would like to go out there?" Ilya asks, "There are three undead and seven people not called Ilya out there; we will only get in way." He stuffs Sevastjan's head back into the bag, and and peeks once more.
For those of us that took day jobs in the beginning, are those ever going to come back up?
Ilya sits for a moment with a satisfied smile on his face. "Still got it!" he says, turning to his comrades. It happens slowly but he remembers that he's surrounded by more than just undead in the carriage. He nearly comes out of his boots as he hears the zombies crash around behind him, and almost loses his snow shoes trying to run away. Finding the other carriage, the sylph tries to hop over it but catches his knee on the side and flips head first into the cabin with the dead.
The sylph pops his head back out of the carriage with a somber look on his face. The hair on his head tightens and white slithers begin snaking their way from his scalp, giving him highlights. "They are dead in there." he says, passing Vanya who was standing over his own dead discovery. "We should move on if we want to find-" before he finishes his sentence he hears the doctor's cry. Focusing his eyes on the doctor, he sees him fire one off toward Kyrianna. It is then that he notices the undead. Fidgeting some, he shakes away his fear and runs toward Kyrianna, chanting while his hand begins to glow with a dark flame. He moves past her and attempts to discharge his spell right into the next zombie's rotting sternum before it shambles out of the carriage. "If it works undead will panic and clog doorway for other undead." he says, biting his lip as he reaches up to touch the zombie, surprisingly unafraid.
An interesting solution would be to up the DC of finding traps, that way if someone specialized in trap spotting they would have a better chance of seeing the trap than most. That being said I believe there should be a passive roll to notice traps. If you'd like, you could roll for us to notice that the thing we're about to pick up seems like its booby trapped and put it in your reply to our actions; roll our perception and continue describing what happens accordingly.
What a dick.
So I remember you saying that I could mess with the mechanics right up until the first battle, so I decided to change Ilya's focus around and he's now a Winter Witch. He'll keep the non lethal damage taken so far but from here on out he has endure elements (cold) and hexes (thank god). No more changes and thanks for being flexible.
Ilya finds himself walking head down and face scrunched against the wind. "Thought I'd be used to this again by now." he jokes weakly as they come up on the caravan. His mood changes though as he catches sight of the caravan. He walks forward to investigate.
Ilya bites his lip as he refolds the cloth. “This was very thoughtful thank you.” He bows and stuffs the cloth into his backpack. “You shouldn’t worry, it will be short trip. Thing that should worry you is who will step on grapes while I’m…” he finds gone hard to get out, feeling the weight of their words at last. The sylph turns around and hugs them both, kissing each in turn. “You have been so very good to me...” he says, pulling away and placing his hands on his hips. He sighs and looks at the two of them somberly, “Lets go to bar. Tavern is empty and glasses need cleaning and we have a lot to discuss.” Ilya spills everything, going into great detail about his life in Irrisen, or lack thereof, and his escape after his mistress died. He told them about a childhood spent cutting short the childhood of others, the long treks in the snow. He told them why his hair was unruly and seemed to change on a whim. He also told them, quite to their surprise, that he was probably a decade or so older than either of them. Then finally, though he had not meant to, he told them the nature of his journey into the border wood. The sylph knew it was a bad idea, but if he were to meet his doom at the hands of winter fey, he would like to think the last conversation he had with his parents was an honest one. That night he slept like a baby, the worry of traveling to the woods becoming as foreign to him as he was to these lands. Just before he laid his head down to rest he murmured “Thank you Desna for starting my journey as a good one”.
So besides Kyrianna, who all is planning on being melee in the medium to long term?
Ilya yelps and hops to his feet, clasping his hands to his lower back. Turning, he sees Sevastjan gloating. "Pochemu ty eto sdelal?!" he cries in a shrill whisper to the crab. He turns around to the others, pretending his altercation with the little bastard had not happened. "I want to go too." he says, "Winter this far south this far into year with fey appearing as well worries me. Winter fey travel to winter lands; winter lands do not travel to winter fey." He stands for a moment in thought, thinking his words through before nodding and repeating himself, "Yes, I want to go to." Skald: Why did you do that?!
Ilya folds his arms in front of his chest and turns slightly as the Northman calls his ancestry out. Though anyone here who knew him already knew that he was from the north he could not hide his disappointment at his own transparency.
As the man speaks, Ilya picks up that the man, for whatever good it did him, was a believer. "ведьма болонка" he whispers, leaning against the wall and set his eyes on others. He hopes that his body language will tell Yuln he is not interested in being friendly.
Once the icy fey are mentioned, Ilya perks up, remembering the annoying little creatures from his days in Irrisen. "Is first world problem." Ilya interrupts, siding with Ehren, though not necessarily against Neela. "Militia men in little village would not understand." Pensively, he starts to twirl a stray lock of hair resting on his arm. "I know fey creatures... And hate them. Would rather strangle them before letting them ruin this hometown." Ilya arms fold tighter around his chest. A little surprised by his own words his cheeks begin to turn a lovely shade of red. Skald: Witch lapdog.
While the rest of the town lightened up to the sunny day, one young man, at least in appearance, found himself marching toward the Doctor’s house, the very house that many others in town tried their best to avoid. Ilya was not going on his own accord however. He was instead going to fulfill the wishes of his surrogate mother. He carried on his back a basket full of bread of many different types; while on his front he carried strapped to his stomach a small keg filled with the Stoat’s good ale. Its weight caused him to lean forward, and his rapidly whitening hair gave him the look of an old, crooked spinster. Some might’ve even mistaken him for Old Theodora, a thought that Ilya shivered thinking about. He spoke to himself as he trekked to the Doctor’s, but his words were not his own. In mocking tones Kale’s convincing words hijacked Ilya’s voice. “He may not have eaten in many days.” she said. “The least you could do is take them some food.” she said. “What if we left you starving when you wandered into town you selfish boy?” she said. “Well, Я не приносил метель!” he yelled back, slippign back into his old tongue and attracting both a gust of wind and the curious eyes of everyone close enough to see him. Red cheeked, he continues. Once he approached the door, Ilya hesitated opening it, listening to the voices on the other side. He recognized a few: the scratchy squeak of Neela, the exceedingly polite voices of the Doctor and Marina, a couple of others. It was Theodora’s voice, though, that set him on edge; making the hair not just on his back, but on top of his head as well, stand up when she spoke. Luckily he had it tied up in a ponytail today. With a sigh he opens the door. Inside he moves quickly, seeing no one up front he goes to set down his gifts. He taps the keg and with little fanfare begins to cut the bread into edible chunks. “Kale sends best wishes to guest in form of food for him and ale for you!” he says loudly from the front of the modest home. “Stay there, I’ll bring to you.” He was glad to see his manners, however bad they were, surmount his nervousness. Within moments he was crowded in the back with the others, a small platter of bread and cheese in front of him. As he moves to the back he shrinks as he hears the Doctor. “Don’t apologize for surviving.” He slows down, tip-toeing, and sneaks in to setting the platter of bread and cheese he’d prepared on a stray tabletop in the room. Quietly he turns around and gives everyone a polite bow, but speaks not. Skald: I didn't bring a blizzard!
I have to put in some extra time for work over the weekend. I'll be posting again Sunday at the earliest. Sorry guys.
So half the people at the inn are ok with just moving the story forward? Vanya and myself for sure? Ehren? Kyrianna?
Depending on what people do I'll just come out tomorrow. Its not a big deal.
Well... Teaches me to assume we're done with a set.
Nah, not me. The -1 to AC (via -2 to dex) scares me and besides reach, I get no real benefits from it. I'm also going the 4 witch/ 1 rogue/ 1 sleepless detective route to get into the class so we won't hurt for arcane spell casting, even if its heavy on the debuff side. Any INT increasing items you make though please pass them my way :).
Ilya’s reflection pouted at him, not at all masking its annoyance. The paint had been wiped from Ilya’s face only a few moments ago and his reflection had not yet forgiven him. It watched as he wet the cloth; then gazed sadly as the butterfly was squashed into streaks then nothing as Ilya finished removing the paint. At one point, he even promised that he would draw it again one day, but his reflection’s eyes showed only disbelief, and besides, Ilya found himself involuntarily flicking his eyes toward his reflection’s ever stranger hair. White streaks slivered in his reflection’s hair, weaving their way in and out of its windswept tangles, curling and bouncing with them. Ilya, feeling as exasperated as his reflection looked, watched as it moved to take a brush to the tangles, staring at him with thin determination for a moment before Ilya’s eyes averted to the strands of hair being worked by the brush. “No good.” he says, speaking deliberately in common. “Beast not show this much since we left Irris..AHHH!” Ilya groans as he finds himself caught, finally, in the clutches of the silent assassin, Sevastjan. The little crab had made a play for his side, and pinched Ilya where there was fat. It was within microseconds that the pest found himself victoriously flying across the room, bouncing off of the wall, and plunking unceremoniously into a bucket of water. Ilya’s hair was once again tangled and his reflection gave him a worried look through long white bangs. “We’re in trouble…” he says, watching the strands that tossed his crab retract back to a reasonable length. He winces as he touches his side and curses Sevastjan, who he knew was gloating in that little bucket. Sighing, he says a little incantation and watches his reflection’s hair straighten itself. The result was not as good as it would have been if he had done it by hand, but it was decent. He finds a ribbon and ties his hair up into a loose ponytail, finishing to find his reflection staring at him, hands on its hips, judging him silently. His reflection then stands and walks towards Ilya, pressing its chest against his as the sylph picks up the mirror and slides it behind his bed. He blows out the candle in his room, more of a pantry really, and goes to sleep.
I just looked at your character sheet and realized you're going the vivisectionist route to get it, lol. It may be a pretty sexy combination though. If you're going for blasty arcane trickster then my touch+debuff arcane trickster will be a pretty nice complement. There aren't a lot of blasts on the Witch's spell list, so I'm looking into actually doing touch based debuff attacks that also take extra sneak attack damage + trip or constrict. Maybe we should look into teamwork feats!
Unfortunately most threads I found conclude that the archetype a trap and I have not found any developer input on whether this were an error or not, though I've done quite a few searches. I posed the question in James Jacobs' thread earlier and he admitted that it looks like a mistake and that I should ask here. So I did.
Well I was thinking of taking the magical talent trait to get the mage hand cantrip and qualify for Arcane Trickster prestige class. Though since I've asked that question here I found the relevant FAQ that says doing that is legal. Also with the hair using int to hit, I asked James Jacobs and he thinks it was an error, but encouraged me to ask on the Dragon Empires product thread just to be sure; thanks for allowing me to use INT to hit though. As for pacing. I like how people are getting fleshed out, we've basically folded a tavern thread into our adventure. Though I'm looking forward to seeing where the story goes from here.
Hi. I have a question about the White-haired Witch archetype's hair. RAW says that the archetype gets INT to damage and CMB rolls, but not to attack rolls. This is weird because the prehensile hair hex does give INT to hit and damage. Was this on purpose? Did you mean for the WHW to not get INT to attack?
“Looks like he is with Doctor.” Ilya says, standing tip-toed on one foot. Keeping his cheek pressed against the window pressing his cheek against the window. Menander and Kale listen to his updates only half-heartedly, only asking questions sporadically. “I hope they help him.” “Looked in bad shape, yeah?” “You think they get Theodora to help?” Ilya asks, not waiting for answers. Around him people shuffle around, finding themselves places near the fire. He draws back from them to look for a moment, counting the heads of everyone he would most likely be serving bread in the morning. “Is funny.” he says, after counting. “Freaks from out of town are ones who rushed to help poor man on wounded horse. Guess they're all more sympathetic to strangers.” turning back to the window he glimpses himself, face painted and hair patterned with white curls so tight, they look like icicles. “All except freak in window.” he adds with a sigh. He then starts to pull the curls loose. Almost on cue, his gaze is broken as Theodora and a posse of townsfolk walk past his window. Reflexively he ducks when he sees the old crone, drawing his knees into his chest and hoping she did not see him. He looks up to see people staring, then looks away slightly embarrased. “You would not understand…” He says softly to everyone and no one. Leaning his head back agains the wall under he window he tries to listen in on what is being said outside, and only peeks his head back up to look after the pitter-patter of feet in snow grows distant. “Am not liking this one bit.”
I know you've said before that Dragon Empires will not be getting errata'd but I have a question about the White-haired Witch archetype. Was the white-haired witch not getting INT to hit intentional?
@GM Malefactor:I haven't disappeared. Unfortunately I sorta RP'd myself into a corner here. Will post something soon. Like later today soon. I also have a question, how do you feel about using spell-like abilities as pre-requisites for get getting into prestige classes? Another thing, I was going over the WHW archetype again and apparently the white hair only gives INT to CMB and damage, but NOT to hit. This is weird because the prehensile hair hex DOES give INT to both hit and damage. I'm not sure if this was an oversight or what but I was wondering if we could house rule that it provides INT to hit. Otherwise I'd like to move some stats around and exchange the cloud gazer feat for weapon finesse. Sorry I didn't catch this before the game started but we haven't seen any major battles yet so I may have time to make this work.
Can I buy a vowel? :p
Ilya frowns as Menander instructs him to stop bartending, downing what he had poured in the mug before him. As he makes his way from behind the bar, he pauses for a moment to say "thanks for drink" to some already forgotten customer and disappears again into the back. By the time he returns, holding sheets and blankets, he hears the unusual coordinated shuffling that's often associated with everyone's attention being brought to bear on the same thing. As he drops them near the fireplace he hears the warning the doctor gives about dying of exposure and pauses. Only now he realizes something terrible is going on. While everyone scrambles to either get in the thick of things or out of the way he shivers, for the first time this summer, and sighs as he notices his hair is now as white as snow.
“She is right?” Ilya asks while catching the door behind Neela, “If you want to relax come to Stoat. I give you vodka from potato like in old country and have a pickle to chase it down if you want!” he squints as the wind hits him, blowing his hair wild. “But close and come over. Neela is last person to want to buy anything from your shop I bet.” He gives Vanya an awkward wave and closes the door behind him, opening it again to free his hair from its clutches and closing it once more. Ilya arrives in the Stoat as determined as he’d arrived in Vanya’s shop. Breezily, he disappears into the back without greeting anyone, only to reemerge moments later barefoot and in a chemise that looks a tad too large for him. He straps on an apron and slings his cranky little friend into its front pocket. “Тихий, прежде чем я готовить вам ... снова.” he warns as the crab tries to catch his stomach through the apron. “Почему вы действовали так глупо в последнее время?” this question was playful, but he could tell Sevastjan was in no mood to be teased. Suddenly mindful that people were probably watching him talk to his front pocket he gets to work, stealing orphaned mugs from the counter and wiping clean the evidence that they were ever there. Skald: Quiet before I boil you... again. Why have you acted so stupid lately?
”Mister Gamiros is prepared like everyone else not from North.” he says flatly, ”I will return to help patch things but sounds not far from here that Stoat is full of people.”. As he prepares the scale a claw emerges from the basket of grapes, followed by a rather barbed leg. Ilya reaches into the basket and pulls a crab out by the leg. It snaps at him in a fit of annoyance but he smiles. ”Nap well, naughty boy?” he asks, and the creature’s efforts to maim him only intensify. As its set on the table it raises its claws in an open challenge to all present and Ilya watches it with dreamy eyes for a moment. He continues to put grapes in the bowl of the scale as he speaks. ”That is all for my portion…” he looks to Neela then back to Vanya, brushing his hair onto his ear and displaying the butterfly markings more clearly. ”Am religious now.” he says softly, ”A bard told me about Desna and we walked in your garden. Was too good.” he nods shyly then gets back to work, jumping as the crab on the table tries to catch his finger. Having had enough of it, he takes the creature by its leg and throws it into his satchel where it lands with a soft dunk. Gathering his basket once more, he starts toward the door. ”And you, Vanya and Neela? Will you be kept warm tonight?”
For a village that's supposed to be in an unusually cold winter it sure is steamy...
Mostly barbarians. The vast majority outside of the Jadwiga in Irrisen are the Ulfen, and their common tongue was Skald before Baba Yaga. Once you get far enough north, and find yourself among the Kellid people that pepper the north of Golarion I think Hallit will become more common.
So... Mal. You ninja'd my post. Sorta.
Guilt gets the better of Ilya as he leaves the garden and he alters his route to head toward the shop. The dreamy after affects of his religious conversion play over him, and he finds himself sad that the few stars he sees are about about to be covered over by the approaching thunderhead. This distraction almost made him miss the light coming from Vanya's door as it opened, glimpsing the man but briefly as it closed again. "Ты избегаешь меня?" he asks quietly, brows furrowing. He swings the basket to one side and opens the door, launching into a friendly rant before even seeing Vanya. "Ваня, я собрал все хорошие винограда из вашего сада. Я не знаю, почему вы были на заднице а не делать это самостоятельно, но ... О, привет." he pauses and speaks again in common, having only seen Vanya's guest after he'd already began speaking"Oh! Hello Neela how are you." It wasn't a question so much as it was a practiced statement, meant to be no less polite. Thoroughly embarrassed and with his face almost matching of the butterfly markings on his cheek, he busies himself setting the basket on the table and finding a scale. He had not planned on Theodora's helper being there, and through his nervousness found himself preparing to weigh out the brewery's portion of grapes; something else he had not planned on when he opened the door. "Frost killed off most grapes. So portions will be small this season." he says not looking at them, "Continue talking! I will not interrupt much; lots to do over here." Skald: Are you avoiding me? Vanya, I gathered all the good grapes from your garden. I do not know why you were on your ass and not doing it yourself, but ... Oh, hi.
Not necessarily. The fact that Ilya's a brewer is common knowledge, and his accent blatantly suggests his northern ancestry; his time as a witch's apprentice, however, is not common knowledge.
Updated character sheet and also background. Somehow I missed that there was already a brewer in Heldren, so if its ok with you GM I'd like to say that Ilya was adopted into his family. I've made the small changes to his backstory to reflect this.
Aha. Don't want that. I'll fix the sheet and update it in my profile then.
”I had dream once.” Ilya says. ”Woke up and garden was dying. Its grapes were frosted over, and no good, and I had to explain why 4714 wine would be a bitter wine.” he snaps a few good grapes from a vine for his basket, then walks to the next, tiptoeing when he can to avoid touching the cold ground with the whole of his feet. As he picks the few grapes not killed off by the cold snap, the bard rattles off an interpretation of his dream. Its a hand wavy tale of destiny and stars, something typical of Desna’s faithful, told in a way that made any other way of thinking about the dream feel silly at best. ”Interesting…” Ilya replies. To a comment about how beautiful his garden must be, Ilya replies ”It’s not mine”. To the inevitable follow up question he replies, smiling ”Vanya’s, but we pay him to share”. As the day wears on and Ilya grows tired of hearing stories, or of walking around barefoot (both are equally exhausting by this point), he bids the bard farewell and happy journeys. The bard kisses both his cheeks and offers to paint his face. He refuses and offers her grapes. She insists and draws two brushes. He relents and takes one into his own hand. Through tickled, giggling fits they draw on each other. By evening his face and feet are covered in prints of butterflies, her cheek and neck are strewn with snowflakes. They share a long kiss and then an awkward moment as Ilya explains away the sudden silky bang that listlessly falls over his face. He bids her farewell again, this time wistfully as he tucks away several tiny scrolls that were gifted to him. ”Я люблю Десна.” he says to no one, trying out the faith in his native tongue. "Я люблю ее всей душой." He puts on his boots and starts one last sweep of the garden, hoping to save what grapes he can. He then sets off for the Stoat, thinking out loud "Probably should tell Vanya his good grapes are missing later." Skald(Using Russian): I love Desna. I love her with all my soul.
Just wanted to say I took the winter witch archetype as well, though hero lab may have made a mistake in letting them do so. Going to post soon.
Hi, I'm currently in this campaign, Only the Cold Remains - A Reign of Winter Rendition, and the gameplay thread eats our posts and won't show us previews. We'd like to get started soon. Could you take a look at it? We'd appreciate it greatly, thank you.
The site might still have some growing pains after the update? I hope you saved it before you tried to post.
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