Jylan Kynslayer's page

I am considering running a cthulhu game for maybe 3 players. I want a really small tight nit group. Probably will be 1920s set in and around Arkham. Ideally you should be familiar with Cthulhu but not have played in the Arkham area adventures. The system will be Chosium. Let me know your opinions.

We will use this thread to discuss any topics that may arise during the adventure.

After several weary days travel North from Bards Gate, the Coast road finally throws up a change in its endless monotony. A stone bridge, about 20 feet wide crosses a deep chasm, that bisects the road. Beyond the bridge, the land rises slowly into low hills. The map you carry seems to indicate that you are on the right road for the infamous 'Dungeon of Graves', although so far there have been no indications as to its location. All the map seems to show is that it lies somewhere in the vicinity of the Coast Road, close to the Forest of Hope.

Off to the East you can make out the start of the Southern edge of the Forest of Hope, whilst to the West can be heard the distant call of gulls.
The stone bridge has a narrow, low wall along each side. It shows signs of fire damage, as a lot of the stones are blackened with soot.

A unseasonably warm wind is beginning to blow in from the coast and the first signs of a storm front can be seen on the horizon.

As you stand before the bridge, you notice a lone figure making its way down the road from the hills. It seems to be pulling some sort of cart behind itself.

Decided! Its gonna be Rappan Athukk. All pc's will start at 4th level.

"Spire Ahoy! Spire Ahoy!"

The cry goes up from the spotter atop the tower on the lead caravan wagon.

Looking toward where he points, you can see the black impossibly tall needle of rock that marks Ptolus, jutting above the horizon. The grass plain stretches before the wagons of the merchant caravan, but you know that over that horizon awaits your destination.

The caravan master, Batrass, rides back and forth amongst the massive wooden wagons pulled by tame giant lizards.

"We will make the South Gate by Duskfall", he shouts. "We stop at Tent City where everyone gets off. Make sure you have your papers and coin ready!"

You reckon you have around three hours utill Ptolus is reached.

INTRODUCTION TO THE CITY
You are a native of a port city called Ptolus, or you have recently arrived there. Native or not, you know a few things about this city—it is not without a reputation, to say the least. To call Ptolus a dynamic place with a strange and varied identity is to understate the situation greatly. Only now are explorers truly discovering
how ancient the city really is and unearthing details of its varied history. Ptolus is where that strange breed that calls itself “adventurers” congregates. It’s a place where people are as
concerned with what lies below the ground as they are with what’s above. This is like no place else in the world.

Ptolus lies in the world of Praemal within the bounds of a very old Empire unsure of whether or not it has toppled. Three different emperors claim the throne, and portions of the once great realm cleave off like icy shards from a melting glacier. This decaying society looks upon previous centuries and sees grander, more civilized, and
certainly better days. Progress seems on the decline—skills and lore that people possessed just a few hundred years ago are lost now.

But this is not a time to lose hope altogether. This civilization, older than our own real-world cultures, is more sophisticated than our own in some ways, but less so in others. A myriad of races and peoples have come and gone, creating an intricate (and sometimes confusing) amalgam.

Good struggles against evil, and law against chaos. But the shadows only threaten the light— they do not yet consume it.

Not so long ago, the first men and women who would one day be called “delvers” returned from exploring the catacombs below the city of Ptolus laden with gold and magical treasures. Today, hundreds of new would-be delvers pour into the city each month, hoping to strike it rich like others before them. Most never crawl up from the realms below, but adventurers keep arriving with dreams of gold and fame. Those who do emerge back into the light bring with them tales of surprisingly vast reaches of natural caverns and ancient hewn passages, perhaps dating back to the dark days when this area lay in
the thrall of the terrible Skull-King, Ghul, and the region was pocked with winding warrens and subterranean chambers created by his dark
armies.

They also tell of the horrors that dwell outside the life-giving reaches of the sun: unknown monsters and devious demon-minded
things with a cunning unknown to human-, elf-,or dwarfkind. In the city, entire industries have evolved quickly to service the needs of these adventurers. In the shadow of an unnaturally tall, ancient spire with a very dark past, a whole new form of economics, politics, and social structure struggles to be born.

Creatures and individuals (good, evil, and otherwise) that normally remain in the shadows are drawn to this large gathering of adventurers and magic. The needs of the delvers prompt renewed devotion to magic, science, and religion. As the Empire of Tarsis dies, Ptolus—for years a backwater town on the edge of civilization—is quickly becoming the center of something much larger than itself. Omens and prophecies of children born with strange birthmarks surface in the city with increasing frequency. No one yet knows exactly what, but something is happening in Ptolus.

Something new stirs in this city . . . and that something is very, very old.

I will now mostly be known as Jack, the Salty Sea Dog! Dr Dark is Dead!

I'm currently running Ruins of the Dragon Lord but need a couple of fighters. There is another thread onhere that deals with it and their are a couple of possible players on their. But just in case they dont reply, I need either traditional fights or paladins, barbarians etc. A Paladin will fit in great as the adventure hasnt really got going yet and its an ideal time to slot pcs in.

Located 100 miles south of Mount Moru, at the
beginning of the trail known as Moru Road, the village
of Meadowvale is known for its peace and quiet, the
quality of its wine and the friendly demeanour of
its inhabitants. Meadowvale is an obligatory stop
for any explorer wishing to cross Moru Country, as
it offers food, rest, equipment and most specially
support and understanding. Meadowvale folks know
well the cruel lands that lie beyond their town; what
is more, many of them experienced firsthand the
hardships of an adventurer’s life before retreating
here to live in peace, so they are all sympathetic
to adventurers, never trying to dissuade them from
their quests or take advantage of their needs. Here,
adventurers are always welcome and well treated.

Another bonus is that Meadowvale has the best travellers’ inn
for several miles around, The Old Stone. Any traveller visiting
Meadowvale is well advised to come by and stretch
his feet at The Old Stone, if only for a couple of ales.
Besides food and drink, a patron of The Old Stone
is guaranteed to obtain all the information he seeks
about where to get supplies in town, what dangers
await him in the Morudhain Lands and how to get to
said dangers as quickly as possible.

The Old Stone Inn
The Old Stone Inn, a two-story building of wood and stone, is Meadowvale’s main attraction; it boasts excellent
food, good conversation, late parties, comfortable rooms and fair prices. Leah, the owner, is a red-haired, lively
woman in her late thirties; she runs the establishment with the help of two barmaids (Lianne and Baressa), three
domestic servants (Duannah, Old Jobe and Vitley) and three stable boys (Guillaume, Gall and Lubber).

And so it begins...

The pale flames at the fireplace dance as
fading white ghosts, their light and heat barely
needed or noticeable in this temperate summer
evening. The atmosphere is dry and empty, as
there are very few patrons at the inn; however,
their chatter is enough to give the place the
feel of a crowded hall. These days, it seems
everybody is talking about some thing or another
in Meadowvale…

Seallan the town minstrel is setting up his lute in a corner
of the inn, affably swapping good-natured jokes, tales and gossip.
Leah, the owner of the inn, walks around dispensing drinks, laughing
at the jokes, sitting on the laps of the most audacious
customers and adding her voice to a couple of song
choruses here and there.

Seallan, after completing a few well known ballads, promises to regail all
with the tale of the Dream of Aedhaine after he has had another drink or two...

OK, everyone has, for a variety of reasons, arrived in Meadowvale at the inn. Intoductions can now take place...

Located 100 miles south of Mount Moru, at the
beginning of the trail known as Moru Road, the village
of Meadowvale is known for its peace and quiet, the
quality of its wine and the friendly demeanour of
its inhabitants. Meadowvale is an obligatory stop
for any explorer wishing to cross Moru Country, as
it offers food, rest, equipment and most specially
support and understanding. Meadowvale folks know
well the cruel lands that lie beyond their town; what
is more, many of them experienced firsthand the
hardships of an adventurer’s life before retreating
here to live in peace, so they are all sympathetic
to adventurers, never trying to dissuade them from
their quests or take advantage of their needs. Here,
adventurers are always welcome and well treated.

Another bonus is that Meadowvale has the best travellers’ inn
for several miles around, The Old Stone. Any traveller visiting
Meadowvale is well advised to come by and stretch
his feet at The Old Stone, if only for a couple of ales.
Besides food and drink, a patron of The Old Stone
is guaranteed to obtain all the information he seeks
about where to get supplies in town, what dangers
await him in the Morudhain Lands and how to get to
said dangers as quickly as possible.

The Old Stone Inn
The Old Stone Inn, a two-story building of wood and stone, is Meadowvale’s main attraction; it boasts excellent
food, good conversation, late parties, comfortable rooms and fair prices. Leah, the owner, is a red-haired, lively
woman in her late thirties; she runs the establishment with the help of two barmaids (Lianne and Baressa), three
domestic servants (Duannah, Old Jobe and Vitley) and three stable boys (Guillaume, Gall and Lubber).

And so it begins...

The pale flames at the fireplace dance as
fading white ghosts, their light and heat barely
needed or noticeable in this temperate summer
evening. The atmosphere is dry and empty, as
there are very few patrons at the inn; however,
their chatter is enough to give the place the
feel of a crowded hall. These days, it seems
everybody is talking about some thing or another
in Meadowvale…

Seallan the town minstrel is setting up his lute in a corner
of the inn, affably swapping good-natured jokes, tales and gossip.
Leah, the owner of the inn, walks around dispensing drinks, laughing
at the jokes, sitting on the laps of the most audacious
customers and adding her voice to a couple of song
choruses here and there.

Seallan, after completing a few well known ballads, promises to regail all
with the tale of the Dream of Aedhaine after he has had another drink or two...

Everyone can now introduce themseves and engage in general 'inn type goings on'.

Heres the first part of the campaign background. Next part will follow in a day or two.

Located in the middle of the little known and justly
feared Morudhain lands, Mount Moru remains a
realm of terrible secrets and unfamiliar dangers.
For years, the dread crags around this mountain and
its unfathomable depths have remained unknown
by the civilised world. It is a well known fact, of
course, Mount Moru was the site of the ancient Athan
civilisation, of which no trace remains except a couple
of ruins. However, no living sage has explored the
depths of the mounts, or the natural caverns that
are known to lie below it. At least part of the reason
is the admittedly little aesthetic appeal posed by a
dangerous, craggy peak in the middle of a wasteland
when compared to an ancient elven city or an exotic faraway
jungle; even so, any explorer worth his salt will admit a
certain sense of frustration at not having yet explored that
darkly attractive summit.

Geography
The Moru Country is mainly a barren wasteland
of broken hills and uneven rocky plains, with the
notorious landmark of Mount Moru in the middle.
The climate is always temperate to cold, the weather
rainy and misty; despite the frequent rains, the land
remains dry, arid and desolate as though affected by
some curse.

Morudhain Borders
The terrain known as the Moru Country is a very
loosely defi ned region, without clear political
borders defi ning where it ends and the surrounding
regions begin. To the north and east there are vast
Country but far more pleasant. These lands are
unnamed and unclaimed, belonging neither to the
Morudhain region nor to the countries beyond them.
To the west and northwest the borders are somewhat
clearer, as the fresh and fertile northwest riverbanks
are a clear indication of where the Morudhain waste
ends; fi nally, the Moru Country has its best defi ned
border on the south march, marked by the start (or
end) of Moru Road at the non-Morudhain village of
Meadowvale and the Last Shrine of Iri.

Population
The Moru Country is mostly unpopulated, with
several Morudhain settlements scattered throughout,
with a total population of little more than 10,000.
Humans of non-Morudhain stock can also be found,
mainly in Meadowvale and the Last Shrine, which
total somewhere below 1,000 inhabitants. The
bulk of the Morudhain population, however, are
humanoids and intelligent monsters, including
dwarves, giants, goblinoids, orcs and subterranean
gnomes. Reports abound about dark elves and other,
more sinister folk, particularly near Mount Moru
itself.

An Overview of the Morudhain Lands
The Moru Country is a very small region, no
more than 200 miles from west to east. However,
this relatively limited expanse contains several
geographical features and landmarks of interest.

Outer Morudhain
The territory known as Outer Morudhain comprises
the lands near the country’s borders, as opposed
to those closer to Mount Moru at its core. Outer
Morudhain includes most of the Morudhain tribes,
as well as its two non-Morudhain human settlements
– the village of Meadowvale and the Temple of Iri of
the Blessed Horn.

Meadowvale
Located 100 miles south of Mount Moru, at the
beginning of the trail known as Moru Road, the village
of Meadowvale is known for its peace and quiet, the
quality of its wine and the friendly demeanour of
its inhabitants. Meadowvale is an obligatory stop
for any explorer wishing to cross Moru Country, as
it offers food, rest, equipment and most specially
support and understanding. Meadowvale folks know
well the cruel lands that lie beyond their town; what
is more, many of them experienced fi rsthand the
hardships of an adventurer’s life before retreating
here to live in peace, so they are all sympathetic
to adventurers, never trying to dissuade them from
their quests or take advantage of their needs. Here,
adventurers are always welcome and well treated.
The main authority in Meadowvale is Carpenter, a
friendly, down-to-earth woman in her late summer
years, who treats all travellers as her children. Few
know her real name or the reason for her common,
yet unusual soubriquet; however, she is undoubtedly
a person of the best quality, with strong limbs, vast
knowledge and a stout heart, capable of identifying
what a tired traveller needs at a single glance and
provide it without a moment’s hesitation.
Meadowvale has the best travellers’ inn for several
miles around, The Old Stone. Any traveller visiting
Meadowvale is well advised to come by and stretch
his feet at The Old Stone, if only for a couple of ales.
Besides food and drink, a patron of The Old Stone
is guaranteed to obtain all the information he seeks
about where to get supplies in town, what dangers
await him in the Morudhain Lands and how to get to
said dangers as quickly as possible.

Morudhain Territories
More than three-quarters of the Morudhain lands
belong, quite logically, to the Morudhain themselves.
These lands are mostly vast tracts of uninhabited
terrain, scattered with Morudhain villages here
and there. The Morudhain are as unfriendly as
they can be with strangers without being openly
hostile. They actively hide their rites and customs
from visitors, going to extreme lengths to keep them
secret. Fiall Garnwynn was lucky enough to call the
bluff of a group of particularly drunk and aggressive
tribesmen, who threatened to scalp him should he
make further inquiries about their secret practices;
after a few words and challenges, it was proven yet
again that a display of bravery is usually enough to
earn the respect of the wildest of men.

b]The Sacred Stones[/b]
These great stones have been in place since the
oldest Morudhain and their most ancient legends
can remember. It is an arrangement of 14 standing
stones, each of them taller than 10 feet. Legend
has it the gods carved and put them there as a sign
that this was Morudhain territory. The Morudhain
see these stones as both their rightful blessing and
inescapable curse. The strange carvings and marks
on the stones bear some resemblance to current
Morudhain ritual symbols, though they have an
unmistakable unfamiliar quality, which accounts
for the belief that they were made by supernatural
beings. As it is, the Sacred Stones are a forbidden
site; no Morudhain will approach them under pain of
terrible curses from the spirits. The writer can attest
to the majesty of these stones, the strange appeal of
their mysterious marks and the fact grass grows near
their base, perhaps more so than anywhere else in
the barren, gloomy Moru Country.

The Temple of Iri
The Temple of Iri of the Blessed Horn, also known
as the Last Shrine, is indeed the very last outpost
of civilisation before entering the vast, dangerous
marches of the Morudhain Lands. The temple is
a plain white masonry building, located on a ridge
overlooking the outset of Moru Road. About a dozen
priests live there, performing ritual services for
adventurers and casual travellers, including the sale
of amulets, holy water and good luck trinkets, as well
as the application of healing and blessing rites in the
name of their god. I regret to confess I only visited
the place once, very quickly, and did not make any
insightful records about it, being naturally distrustful
of religion and its practitioners everywhere. The
interested traveller need only walk the northeastern
slope out of Meadowvale and follow it up for a little
more than one hour, after which he should reach a
crest overlooking the Morudhain Country and the
Last Shrine. The ascent is definitely worth it, at least
for the magnificent view.

I want to start running a pbp based on Mongoose publishings Ruins of the Dragon Lord. I am after a maximum of 5 players, NO MORE. The ideal players should be able to post at least once a day. We will be using Pathfinder Baeta rules. Idealy, the party should be quite traditional, with a mix of characters. (something like a fighter, a rogue, a wizard, a cleric and another martial type).

Character creation will be point buy (high fantasy) 20 point. Hit points are max plus con bonus plus racial bonus.

All dice rolls are by the player. I trust people. starting gold is max for the class.

I will post background on the campaign a bit later on.

Would anybody be interested in either running this campaign using Saga rules or playing in it. I would love to play in it but would be willing to run it at a push?

Riddleport.

Once a secret pirate haven, Riddleport has grown
over the last three centuries into a port city in
its own right.At first it served as a secure base
from which to conduct raids against Chelish merchant
vessels bound for Korvosa, but over time the city has
expanded into a true settlement, the frontier’s frontier,
the northernmost outpost on the lonely strip known as the
Lost Coast. Yet while Riddleport has grown into a proper
city, it remains true to its roots—you can get rich quick in
Riddleport if you’ve got skill and a bit of luck, though for
every Riddleport success story there are a dozen nameless
bodies buried in potters’ fields or tossed to the hungry
denizens of the sea.

Riddleport is located in a secluded, rocky harbor
situated at the easternmost reaches of the Calphiak
Mountains, where the meandering Velashu River meets
the sea. Although the site was partially chosen for ease of
defense (either from Chelish privateers or raiders from
the Lands of the Linnorm Kings), the original settlers
picked the site as much for its singular Thassilonian
monument: the mysterious and intriguing arch known
as the Cyphergate.

The city proper is tucked in between two rocky ridges,
the easternmost rising just over 300 feet in elevation
and blocking the city from a tidal swamp of hillocks and
mires that serves today as a dumping ground for refuse,
derelict ships, bodies, and undesirables. The western
ridge ascends swiftly into the Calphiak Mountains
themselves. To the north, the Velashu River threads its
way between these ridges, leading up into the Velashu
Uplands. While roads from the east and north exist, they
are not well-maintained—the most notable access to
the city is its harbor. No one who sails into Riddleport
by sea can avoid passing beneath the Cyphergate.

Many sailors have favorite private signs or rituals for good
luck they perform as their ships pass under the storied
arch, for one can never be too careful around Varisia’s
storied monuments.

Riddleport today bears an air of legitimacy that eluded
it in earlier times when it was little more than a haven
for those seeking shelter but not necessarily law. This
legitimacy arises from a growing influx of scholars and
experts, for of all Varisia’s monuments, the Cyphergate
may be the best preserved. It’s certainly one of the most
enigmatic. An entire tradition of arcane study has risen in
the Cyphergate’s shadow—the growing Order of Cyphers
has become one of Riddleport’s most powerful factions—
quite the feat in a settlement known for traditional
values of piracy and bullying. This newest faction of
Riddleport’s already complicated administration may
just be what it takes to force the growing city into a stable
government—or it may be the final load that causes it all
to come crumbling down!

It is to Riddleport that you have all come, for many different reasons.
Specifically, on this afternoon, you find yourselves in the Wharf district of the city.

This raucous district lies hard on the edge of the very docks
of the city and is where much of the city’s day-to-day action
of commerce and thievery occurs. Nearest the docks are a
series of warehouses and cheap grog shops where merchant
and pirate crews mingle in a haze of rum-soaked debauchery
and blood. Once the most commercially successful portion
of the city, its aged facade and Riddleport’s slow slide toward
legitimacy have seen much of the action move northward to
the Free-Coin District, leaving the Wharf District a tattered
shadow of its former self. Inns and shops have grimed
windows and peeling paint hinting at a prosperity that
no longer exists, which is just fine for the run-of-the-mill
pirate crew.

For whatever reason today you each find yourself drawn to the Golden Goblin gambling hall, where the grand gambling event “Cheat the Devil
and Take his Gold” looks to be poised to bring the game
hall back in business after a long decline.

Yet the gambling tournament is not the only thing going on in Riddleport, for a strange atmospheric phenomenon lately manifested
in the sky above the city. The strange blot has hung in the
air for several weeks, moving slowly in what appears to be
a random pattern in the sky. At first assumed to be a dark
cloud, it soon became evident that it often moved at odds
with the wind. The blot itself resembles nothing so much
as a shadow floating in the sky, almost as if some large but
unseen object were partially blocking the sun’s rays.

As you make your way through the wharf district you turn a corner of the street and finaly set eyes upon the Golden Goblin.

This grand establishment has seen better days. A wide
veranda runs along the front between two short wings of
the building. A massive, brass half-dome tops the building,
but it is now tarnished and marred by the impact of years
of weathering and bears a patina of greenish brown.

Standing before the main doors of the building is an
8-foot-tall statue cast in shining gold to resemble a largerthan-
life goblin. It balances a golden dogslicer on a pile of
gold as it smiles smugly down on all customers who pass
beneath its gaze.

The doors themselves are of a strong dark wood imported
from southern lands and are decorated with multiple panels
depicting signs of luck and good fortune (four-leaf clovers,
crossed fingers, and so on).

Upon entering you discover that just inside the main doors, two sultry beauties scantily clad and wearing faux bat wings, devil horns, and tails play the part of alluring succubi. Both appear to be employees of the Gold Goblin, and they cheerfully register you as contestants for the tournament and process your entry fee (1 gp). Armed guards stand nearby to either side of an immense treasure chest into which each patron’s entry fee is added. The guards are obviously on hand to not only protect the money, but to prevent any overzealous admirers from trying to dare the infamous touch of a succubus. They make no attempt to relieve you of any weapons that you may be carrying.

Beyond the registration table is the hall’s game floor. Dozens
of gamblers, waitresses dressed as succubi, and bouncers mill
about the room, wandering amid tables offering various games
while dealers shuffle cards, roll dice, and spin wheels. Moving
through this throng are a dozen more of the barely clad, batwinged
vixens serving drinks and batting coal-black eyelashes
flirtatiously for tips. In the center of the chamber is a short
podium atop which sits a massive gold chest affixed to the floor
by similarly gaudy chains. On either side of it stands a barechested
bouncer in the exotic garb of some foreign sultan’s
court. Each stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest
and with a naked scimitar of prodigious size tucked through
his waistband. High above them, from the hall’s cloth-draped
ceiling, hangs a brass birdcage within which crouches a small,
bat-winged, pointy-tailed devilish creature that sulks as it gazes
over the room and occasionally rattles the bars threateningly.

Silken banners hang from floor to ceiling along the
walls, and wide vertical blinds are drawn over the windows
when morning light begins to peer in from the east. The
chamber has a ceiling 20 feet above, draped in layers
of horizontally hung, gauzy beige curtains.

Light is provided by numerous chandeliers hanging
below the ceiling as well as several large copper
braziers spaced around the room with live coals to give
the chamber a more hellish light for the tournament. At
the back of the chamber between the kitchen doors is a
small dais bearing a bust of Desna, goddess of luck.

As you move though the crowded hall you bump into a buxom human woman , who can just about be described as being clothed.

"Welcome to the Gold Goblin, gorgeous, the hot spot for turning fortunes and winning wagers beneath the arch. I'm Mirri Salassa and I guess your looking for the squarest games, most honest dealers, and prettiest blamed barmaids anywhere in the port? Well, you found ’em, sugar! Ready to be rich ? Hope so, ’cause tonight’s your night. Belly up to a table and get to winnin’; we’ve got the gold to make your dreams glitter. Good drink, fine food, and warm company’s extra, but we’ve got all that too—at prices so cheap we might as well be giving it away. So find a spot, honey, order a pint, and leave it all to us, ’cause here, even a goblin could win his weight in gold! Just one thing first though sweetie; I need you to fill in this registration form for me..."

Registration Form. PC must be literate to read it!

Riddleport.

Once a secret pirate haven, Riddleport has grown
over the last three centuries into a port city in
its own right.At first it served as a secure base
from which to conduct raids against Chelish merchant
vessels bound for Korvosa, but over time the city has
expanded into a true settlement, the frontier’s frontier,
the northernmost outpost on the lonely strip known as the
Lost Coast. Yet while Riddleport has grown into a proper
city, it remains true to its roots—you can get rich quick in
Riddleport if you’ve got skill and a bit of luck, though for
every Riddleport success story there are a dozen nameless
bodies buried in potters’ fields or tossed to the hungry
denizens of the sea.

Riddleport is located in a secluded, rocky harbor
situated at the easternmost reaches of the Calphiak
Mountains, where the meandering Velashu River meets
the sea. Although the site was partially chosen for ease of
defense (either from Chelish privateers or raiders from
the Lands of the Linnorm Kings), the original settlers
picked the site as much for its singular Thassilonian
monument: the mysterious and intriguing arch known
as the Cyphergate.

The city proper is tucked in between two rocky ridges,
the easternmost rising just over 300 feet in elevation
and blocking the city from a tidal swamp of hillocks and
mires that serves today as a dumping ground for refuse,
derelict ships, bodies, and undesirables. The western
ridge ascends swiftly into the Calphiak Mountains
themselves. To the north, the Velashu River threads its
way between these ridges, leading up into the Velashu
Uplands. While roads from the east and north exist, they
are not well-maintained—the most notable access to
the city is its harbor. No one who sails into Riddleport
by sea can avoid passing beneath the Cyphergate.

Many sailors have favorite private signs or rituals for good
luck they perform as their ships pass under the storied
arch, for one can never be too careful around Varisia’s
storied monuments.

Riddleport today bears an air of legitimacy that eluded
it in earlier times when it was little more than a haven
for those seeking shelter but not necessarily law. This
legitimacy arises from a growing influx of scholars and
experts, for of all Varisia’s monuments, the Cyphergate
may be the best preserved. It’s certainly one of the most
enigmatic. An entire tradition of arcane study has risen in
the Cyphergate’s shadow—the growing Order of Cyphers
has become one of Riddleport’s most powerful factions—
quite the feat in a settlement known for traditional
values of piracy and bullying. This newest faction of
Riddleport’s already complicated administration may
just be what it takes to force the growing city into a stable
government—or it may be the final load that causes it all
to come crumbling down!

It is to Riddleport that you have all come, for many different reasons.
Specifically, on this afternoon, you find yourselves in the Wharf district of the city.
This raucous district lies hard on the edge of the very docks
of the city and is where much of the city’s day-to-day action
of commerce and thievery occurs. Nearest the docks are a
series of warehouses and cheap grog shops where merchant
and pirate crews mingle in a haze of rum-soaked debauchery
and blood. Once the most commercially successful portion
of the city, its aged facade and Riddleport’s slow slide toward
legitimacy have seen much of the action move northward to
the Free-Coin District, leaving the Wharf District a tattered
shadow of its former self. Inns and shops have grimed
windows and peeling paint hinting at a prosperity that
no longer exists, which is just fine for the run-of-the-mill
pirate crew.

For whatever reason today each of you find yourself drawn to the Golden Goblin gambling hall, where the grand gambling event “Cheat the Devil and Take his Gold” looks set to be poised to bring the game
hall back in business after a long decline.

Yet the gambling tournament is not the only thing going on in Riddleport at the moment, for a strange atmospheric phenomenon lately manifested in the sky above the city. The strange blot has hung in the
air for several weeks, moving slowly in what appears to be
a random pattern in the sky. At first assumed to be a dark
cloud, it soon became evident that it often moved at odds
with the wind. The blot itself resembles nothing so much
as a shadow floating in the sky, almost as if some large but
unseen object were partially blocking the sun’s rays.

As you turn a corner of the street in this run down area you finaly set eyes upon the Golden Goblin.
This grand establishment has seen better days. A wide
veranda runs along the front between two short wings of
the building. A massive, brass half-dome tops the building,
but it is now tarnished and marred by the impact of years
of weathering and bears a patina of greenish brown.

Standing before the main doors of the building is an
8-foot-tall statue cast in shining gold to resemble a largerthan-
life goblin. It balances a golden dogslicer on a pile of
gold as it smiles smugly down on all customers who pass
beneath its gaze.

The doors themselves are of a strong dark wood imported
from southern lands and are decorated with multiple panels
depicting signs of luck and good fortune (four-leaf clovers,
crossed fingers, and so on).

Upon entering you discover that just inside the main doors, two sultry beauties scantily clad and wearing faux bat wings, devil horns, and tails play the part of alluring succubi. Both appear to be employees of the Gold Goblin, and they cheerfully register you as contestants for the tournament and process your entry fee (1 gp). Armed guards stand nearby to either side of an immense treasure chest into which each patron’s entry fee is added. The guards are obviously on hand to not only protect the money, but to prevent any overzealous admirers from trying to dare the infamous touch of a succubus. The make no attempt to relieve you of any weapons you may carry

Beyond the registration table is the hall’s game floor. Dozens
of gamblers, waitresses dressed as succubi, and bouncers mill
about the room, wandering amid tables offering various games
while dealers shuffle cards, roll dice, and spin wheels. Moving
through this throng are a dozen more of the barely clad, batwinged
vixens serving drinks and batting coal-black eyelashes
flirtatiously for tips. In the center of the chamber is a short
podium atop which sits a massive gold chest affixed to the floor
by similarly gaudy chains. On either side of it stands a barechested
bouncer in the exotic garb of some foreign sultan’s
court. Each stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest
and with a naked scimitar of prodigious size tucked through
his waistband. High above them, from the hall’s cloth-draped
ceiling, hangs a brass birdcage within which crouches a small,
bat-winged, pointy-tailed devilish creature that sulks as it gazes
over the room and occasionally rattles the bars threateningly.

Silken banners hang from floor to ceiling along the
walls, and wide vertical blinds are drawn over the windows
when morning light begins to peer in from the east. The
chamber has a ceiling 20 feet above, draped in layers
of horizontally hung, gauzy beige curtains.

Light is provided by numerous chandeliers hanging
below the ceiling as well as several large copper
braziers spaced around the room with live coals to give
the chamber a more hellish light for the tournament. At
the back of the chamber between the kitchen doors is a
small dais bearing a bust of Desna, goddess of luck.

As you move though the crowded hall you bump into a buxom human woman , who can just about be described as being clothed.

"Welcome to the Gold Goblin, gorgeous, the hot spot for turning fortunes and winning wagers
beneath the arch. I'm Mirri Salassa and I guess your looking for the squarest games, most honest dealers, and prettiest blamed
barmaids anywhere in the port? Well, you found ’em, sugar! Ready to be rich ? Hope so,
’cause tonight’s your night. Belly up to a table and get to winnin’; we’ve got the gold to make
your dreams glitter. Good drink, fine food, and warm company’s extra, but we’ve got all that
too—at prices so cheap we might as well be giving it away. So find a spot, honey, order a pint,
and leave it all to us, ’cause here, even a goblin could win his weight in gold! Just one thing first though sweetie; I need you to fill in this registration form for me..."
Registration Form. PC must be literate to read it!

Once upon a time...
High there. We can use this to discuss things out of game etc. I will tell you bits of background info as i think of them etc. A bit about me though. I have been running games for over 20 years but am quite new to pbp. In table games i tend to be more for story and narative over combat...dont realy use miniatures or floorplans any more, preffering to describe things. So pbp does reflect this in how i run a game. If I can, i will post a map, but most of the time you will be going off descriptions.

I will shortly be starting a Second Darkness PBP . I will be using the Beta rules. Prefferably I'd like players from Britain so that we are all on the same time zone.

Ok people. Please feel free to post any queeries, irks, ideas or whatever here.

Right here we are. Awaiting arrivals...

Hi. I will hopefuly soon be starting a campaign based on Necromancer Games adventures. It will begin with Wizards Amulet and continue with Crucible of Freya, Tomb of Abysthor and also include visits to Bards Gate and eventually even Rappan Athuk.
I need between 4-6 players. No psionics. Idealy I would like players to play standard classes- i.e. nothing thats not in the players handbook. This just keeps things simpler on my part. I will also be tying a bit of back story into pcs (from the pre gens supplied by Necromancer).

Campaign will be set in Necromancers campaign world so gods etc will be from there.

Does anyone have any suggestions on where might be the best place to locate Necromancer Games adventures in Golarion - specifically Crucible of Freya, Tomb of Abysthor, Bards Gate and Rappan Athuk.

Sorry for this everyone but wasn't to sure where else to post. We regularly visit Orlando for vacations and I was wondering if anyone has any tips for a good game store there where i can purchase Paizo stuff whilst i.m relaxing. I'd prefer to read about Golarion than Mr Disney's Kingdom of Magic. (Idea... distant country in Golarion ruled by talking animals nd wicked witches!)

To Quote the Guide to Korvosa:-
"Long before the first Chelaxian stepped foot in Varisia,
the native Shoanti lived in relative peace throughout the
southeastern area of the region. They centered their lives
around the Grand Mastaba (which they call Mashka-saht-puyuhoke) near the mouth of the sacred Jeggare River (which
they call Mashkapikki). Their oral history spoke of a thing
of great power somewhere beneath the sacred pyramid—
something they could never again allow to see the light of day.
Thus, the Shoanti consider the Grand Mastaba on Citadel
Hill one of the most important sites below the Storval Rise."

Does anyone have any idea what this 'something' might be.
I know that the idea of the Crimson Throne being a Spelljammer helm has been mntioned in passing, and the pyramid did used to have a flat top (landing pad anyone?). Or maybe one of the peers of the Tarasque was imprisoned there? I would be interested to hear any thories.

In preperation for resuming our ROTRL campaign I have been E mailing further setting details to my players. On player in particular, who we will refer t as 'The Chocolate Man' is a DMs dream. he will bounce ideas back and really go with a character. His pc is a young man called Blake Beacon. I wont go into details right now but heres what he sent me as background info on Blakes homeland, known simply as Far Miramar...
"Far Mirarmar, a peninsula nation of low beaches and gently rolling hills where the Ilam people live. Where the Ilam people have allways lived in small villages clustered around the odd black menhirs that dot the landscape. Due to its location and easy ship landing and access to the Cheliax heartlands hostile armies allways choose to land here, they allways have and they allways will. They come in fleets drawn by dreams of conquest and tales of fabulous riches. The Ilam are a peaceful and pleasant people to look upon, even tempered and patient wanting for very little in the strangley fertile soil of their homeland. The strangers come for a day and kill and rape and steal the silk robes and gold platters that the very least of the Ilam eat from and the Ilam tell them welcome but please to camp within sight of the menhirs or they will not see the dawn. The strangers allways laugh at the superstitions of weak and cowardly men who do not even have armies. The next morning after the screams have finally stopped and the sun is high in the sky the Ilam do as they have allways done, leave their dead on the hillsides naked and gather to collect the weapons and goods of the invaders to sell to neighbouring countries, but never to gather the bodies of the invaders for their bodies have already gone.The duty done they collect the gifts from the rulers under Far Miramar, fresh silk burial robes freshly washed and gold funereal platters, rainbow cascades of gems and odd shaped coins, all grave goods from the tombs of Emperors and Gods.Sometimes if the rulers favour a family the dead slain by the invaders come in the night and stand out of sight of the menhirs and call for their families to say their final goodbyes. For the dead love the Ilam. All things die, men, Kings, Emperors, Gods, Concepts and stranger things must die and whilst their spiritual destinations are uncertain and for some species death may only be just another state of being they bring their final remains to rest in Far Miramar where the Ilam perform the appropriate rites perfectly as they have allways done. At one time the Ilam tell of 2 suns, of home being inland far from the sea, of the world being ice or desert, of suns dying and new ones awakening, of the patterns of stars in the sky changing, for this is Far Miramar where the Ilam have allways lived.

Cheliax views Far Miramar as an odd but loyal vassal state that chooses to pay its taxes in millitary equipment that seems to change style every few years. They have stopped sending ambassadors after they kept on vanishing and the Ilam people make no demands on the Cheliax state anyway. The wise note that there are no graveyards in far Miramar but an awful lot of the same sized gently rolling hills and the soil is ever so fertile.......... those that know the truth leave the Ilam be for it is ill to irk the dead for they have long memories and all things join them eventually.

Adventurers and others born without fear or common sense come to Far Miramar on occasion with grand plans for adventure.
A night spent shitting themselves watching the multitude of shapes outside the menhirs radius watching them soon puts paid to those plans. Of course should they chose to reject the hospitality of the Ilam and to camp outside in the forests and on the gently rolling hills, well that problem just takes care of itself...."

I'd be interested for any feedback or ideas as to what people think. I'm thinking of it as something not on most maps, maybe a bit of a 'Lost' island. (I did even think of it being on one of the other planets, hence the 'Far' Miramar tag. Perhaps Blake reached Golarion through an Elven Gate or some other mysterious means?)

Whilst doing the washing up this morning i thought of something that might be interesting to see. On page 3 of the Gazetteer it mentions about the Pathfinder Chronicles being published and adventurers flocking to a particular site for further exploration and adventure. Wouldnt it be a good idea for all the published Pathfinder Gamemastery adventures, i.e Into the Haunted Forest, etc, to have (maybe on the website as a download) a report from a Pathfinder in the field that could be given to players before an adventure, maybe using it as a lure to bring them into it. Just a thought and apologies if its already been mentioned before.

After many weeks of consideration I am seriously considering scrapping my plans to turn to 4th ed just yet. Something, (i dont know what yet) doesnt feel right. Dont get me wrong; i have all 3 core books on order and dont intend to cancel it. I just cant see me running a game with it in the forseeable future. I think i want to let the dust settle first and then see how the land lies.
Anyway, in the meantime i am thinking about running the Northern Journey fan written Forgotten Relms campaign. Its set in a time when things hadnt been done to the Realms by certain parties as far as i can tell. I was wondering if anyone has played or ran it and if so what were their thoughts on it?

Anyone got any news as to what this village might be. I have heard conflicting rumours including that it might be Hommlet?

After tackling the surface level of Thisteltop (coming straight from the glassworks -

One thing that is realy grabbing me with both hands with Pathfinder is the feeling of being in at the beginning of a new world. It's fantastic being able to see things growing and developing with Golarion. The fact that we can all chat about it and have tha Paizo staff answer or comment on things is wonderful. Greyhawk was old when I started playing twenty one years ago. The Realms were great but also seemed like playing in someone elses sandbox (as have so many other settings) and Ebberon always seemed to me to be just WOTC 'Great Experiment'. But Pathfinder is just hitting all the buttons first time out. Fantastic job guys. Keep it up!

"I will start with what I first set eyes on when i travelled to this land from far off Osirion. At first I thoght that the very Gods were playing tricks on

me, but as I came to know this land so I came to appreciate the wonders that i would encounter. Leaning precariously at the end of a rocky

spit, the Lady’s Light is a southern sailor’s first glimpse of Varisia. Nearly two hundred feet high, the enormous stone lighthouse is

shaped like a sensuous woman in a flowing dress that leaves one breast bare, her right hand pointing a staff that shines a brilliant

beam of light out to sea at regular intervals. At the statue’s base, I spied a gigantic, strangely hinged stone door that presumably leads into the

lighthouse’s interior. Wether any have ventured inside was not for me to know I would wager good coins that none have unlocked it in modern times."

Jylan finishes his drink with a far off look to his eyes. He waits until a refill is brought to the table by a young serving girl before continuing. All

those gathered round lean forward eagerly...

"We made land fall in Varisia’s most northernmost port, the infamous city of Riddleport. I was amazed by a wonderous site as we sailed into the

harbour, but more on that in a minute or two. To those not in the know, Riddleport is a renowned haven for scoundrels, outcasts, and worse. God's

know how many Cutthroats fill its harbor and dockside brothels. I was aware of my vulnerability and so made enquiries as to the local watch. I was

swiftly made aware that Riddleport’s officers of the law are just another gang of thieves (and hardly the most powerful ones at that). Yet even in

such a den of inequity and vice, scholars and historians abound, attempting to decipher the runes of the great arch known as the Cyphergate, which

spans the mouth of the harbor and looms over each vessel that passes into the city. Although any progress on the inscription has been kept quiet, i

did find out from one of my contacts that recent excavations hint that the massive arch might actually be just one segment of a ring that extends

into the cliffs surrounding the port."

Jylan stands and leans against the window, briefly looking out into the night, as if searching for someone before turning back to the growing

crowd.

" I left Riddleports seedy streets behind and headed South following the coast road. There i found Roderics Cove. Besieged by the goblins and

bandits of Churlwood on one side and pirates on the other, this port-town submitted to Riddleport 10 years ago. To everyone’s surprise, mine

included when I learnt of this, the pirates spared the community, employing it as a shipping and trading port for merchants without the stomach to

enter Riddleport; (something I wish I had learnt earlier). Captain Jess Gildersleeve serves as the port-governor,guaranteeing that the gangs of

Riddleport get their cut of the local trade while assuring her own sizable take. In the wake of a recent rash of mysteriously scuttled ships in the

harbor. According to local tavern talk, many citizens who remember life before the pirates’ rule have chalked the sabotage up to the ghost of Sir

Roderic, the town’s founder and a notorious privateer, while those in power blame rebellion and insurgents. With tensions rising, many believe it’s

only a matter of time before the battle lines are drawn and Roderic’s Cove erupts in flames of revolution...A shame realy because it has the makings

of quite a nice little retirement home."

Ameiko sits on the table next to Jylan and ushers him to continue saying,

" A lot of us have visited or heard of these places my old friend. Tell us of something wonderous and exotic!"

Jylan smiles and replies,

"Well I could always tell that story about the time you and I found ourselves trapped in the bed chamber of the Lord Mayor of Magnimar..."

"NO! Just get on with your tale!"

Jylan smiles at the red faced tavern owner as she goes back behind the bar.

"Very well. Unfortunately the hour grows late now and I have a long journey ahead of me . I depart in the morning for Magnimar. in the company of a

young noble Lord who has generously asked me to acompany him to his home city." (Jylan nods to Aldern Foxglove who is seated at the rear of the

Rusty Dragon). "You have my thanks Aldern. But before I retire for the night let me tell you of two places I intend to visit on my travels. The first is a

lake Filling the entire valley between the Iron Peaks and the Wyvern Mountains. Known as the Storval Deep this massive lake is held back by an ancient

dam, called Skull’s Crossing, at its southern tip. What’s more, the banks of the lake themselves are said to seem curiously worked, as if carved from

the surrounding stone by something more than water. Although rumors abound of sunken cities, flooded mineshafts, and relics so powerful the

ancients created the lake just to hide them, few have ever ventured into the dark water’s unfathomed depths. Perhaps I may be one of the first. Now

before I leave you all I will regail you with one final tale that after hearing it may well prevent you from having as restful sleep as you normally

find.; for this I make no apologies.

What know any of you of the Mobhad Leigh? I can tell by the blank expressions that it means little. Well it is a Shoanti name meaning “steps into

hell,” the Mobhad Leigh has captivated imaginations for ages, mine included. It is A perfectly round pit in an otherwise nondescript field at the foot

of the Kodar Mountains. The Leigh has so far never been conclusively proved to have a bottom. Steps spiraling along the pit’s sheer walls

extend down for several hundred feet before collapsing, and those who have ventured farther have never returned to say whether or

not they begin again lower down. I am told that The local Shoanti generally avoid the Leigh, particularly after several of their magic-users

dropped dead while attempting to scout the pit with scrying magic. Yet on certain nights of the year, flickering orange lights can be seen

dancing deep within its depths. Depths which I intend to plumb!"

Jylan rises wearily from his seat.

"Thankyou for your hospitality Ameiko. I will go upstairs now. The usual room?"

The crowd in the Rusty Dragon are left to their own devices as the Pathfinder ascends the stairs. Ameiko looks to the door of the inn wistfully, as

several local farmers head home, perhaps a little world wiser than they were a few hours ago.

This was made a lot easier with the aid of the fantastic background material on Varisia by the Paizo staff.

Here's a question. We have finaly kicked off our ROTRL campaign withmy players running a bard, a fighter, a sorcerer and a warlock with necromancer leanings. We finished with the pc's returning from the boar hunt with Aldern, (who now has a facination with the warlock!). Now as we were driving home my player who runs the warlock states that he wants to approach the town council of Sandpoint with an option of moving into the Old Light. What are the connotations involved with this. What exactly lies under the old ruin. Will it cause upset with people i.e the sage. I would really enjoy reading a bit more about the background about this ancient structure and what secrets may be hidden below.
Any ideas?

In the chapter on the magic of Thassilon in Sins of the saviors, there is mention of a web supplement called Relics of Sin. Where can this be found?

i am toying with the idea of populating parts of Golarion with some of the adventures from Necromancer Games. Things like Tomb of Abysthor, Rappan Athuk, Demons and Devils / Vampires and Liches etc. And with the imminent release of Slumbering Tsar I dont want my players to miss out on some of these great products. Has any other gm adapted necromancer stuff to Pathfinder?

Is there any information, official or otherwise available on these two wizards who attained lichdom and so influenced Vorel Foxglove. If my PCs make their history checks and identify their images on the stained glass windows I was wondering what other bits of info, besides names, that I could throw at them. I can easily develop backgrounds for them, but just in case they should be 'cannon' and are tied to Golarions backstory... Where is Geb and Carrion Hill. Why was She a Harlot and what did He do to earn the name Butcher?

Has there been or is there any intention of detailing a prestige class for the Pathfinders? If I have missed it somewhere (such as elsewhere on the board i'm sorry, but I don't recall seeing one.) I've seen the details regarding the Wayfinder. Does a character follow a certain belief to be a Pathfinder, whilst continuing in their current class or is it something that must be worked for?

Has anyone created a list of the npc's found throughout the Pathfinder products which list there mannerisms, quirks and habbits, to use as a reference tool such as when a pc comes across an nps he/she has met several weeks ago. This would enable the DM to play the npc in exactly the same way as last time and so add continuity. This is something I did in the Shackled City and it was a really big game aid. I'm about to start one for Pathfinder and would welcome any suggestions. Or perhaps fellow gamers could start posting ther contributions here and we could get a library of detailed npc's going.

Exmple:- Brodert Quink (Sage - Area 8, Sandpoint)- human, male, early 70's. Speaks with clipped, sharp sentences. Not patient unless talking Varisian history, or in the presence of a Dwarf when his manner becomes almost friendly. Has tendency to pass hand over head as if self concious of baldness, even at his advanced years. Has habit of stopping conversations mid sentence to stare in the general direction of the Old Light with a far off look in his eyes, no matter where he is at the time.

It's just a quick example to show what I have in mind.

After gathering several of the Gamemastery modules as well as the first four Pathfinder adventures together it's now time to start my players off into the world of Golarion. I Have been e-mailing them with details of local background info for Varisia and the Sandpoint area but what I would like to do now is slowly (over a few days)drop hints at rumours, myths and legends that they may have picked up during their lives so far. Nothing to juicy, just enougth to wet their appetites for wanting more. I know there is a lot of background and I was just wondering if anyone had any ideas they might want to throw into the pot?

Also,has anyone ran any of the gamemastery modules in conjunction with ROTRL, and if so which ones, how were they worked in etc.

Thanks for any input and hopefully we can chat some more soon.

P.S For what its worth I will be sticking with Paizo, no matter what happens with 4th ed. Keep up the quality guys; you put a lot of the more 'established' companies to shame.