My mistake, I just now noticed I did 2d10 instead of 3d10 for the first section of stats. Here's the remaining 1d10 for each:
Independent athlete, looks like.
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The description of the setting sounds like it can deepen into a wonderful campaign; I'd like to toss my hat in the ring. Though I don't have the text, I did use your link to get the quickplay guide, giving me a tangential understanding of things. If chosen, I'd need to get a lesson/some information from you though! Ranger there has provided a nice exemplar of the creation mechanics though, so I'll get that started:
I must've missed the table indicating which values matched with which items, but I'd be happy to develop things further once I know!
Please allow me to get my hat ready to toss into the ring. An antagonistic halfling sounds good to me, yet I will need to consider the method of provocation :)
Let's see what Desna holds in store for me:
In total: Set 1: 14
I'm feeling a wizard percolate. Story to be created & crunch to follow!
GM, your presentation is informative and enticing. I have a few questions for you: 1. You describe the campaign as somewhat sandbox while bounding it with published scenarios. I don't have a problem with this, for it gives the players a better idea of the world's status in which they are creating a character. However, it would be good to know to what extent we should check with you before making assumptions about backgrounds. For what it's worth, I've not played the scenarios after CotCT. 2. Are you looking for characters that adhere to the "agent" style or complements to that variety, willing to work for the crown? 3. Perhaps I missed it, but I'm not seeing an explicit "characters must be evil alignment" descriptor. As I understand it, the campaign is evil as a result of the various quests and non-good dispositions they'd promote. I am making this fine point as one of the forward possibilities in my mind at this point is a cultured former barrister who places precedence in civilization over the well-being of others, yet not explicitly at the hatred of them. In Cheliax, that just so happens to be the norm for society, so I believe that would put him closer to LN than LE. Looking forward to tossing my hat in the ring! This looks very promising.
Do you have any specifics on where our characters hail beyond the broad stroke of Scandinavia? Lappland, Gotland, etc. Considering a shaman.
Thanks for your response, Arctic! I made a typo I need to correct:
I meant Weapon Specialization (Ray) for the latter feat.
Good day! I've a few questions which have popped-up over time, yet their answers were either not discernible or of questionable resolution. If you're feeling up to it, please have these a go. Sources would be great!
1. I recall reading somewhere Weapon Focus (Ray) was a valid choice. In the case this is true, is Weapon Focus (Ray) also a valid choice? 2. As in #1, could the feats be applied to melee touch attack (MTA) spells? Such as Weapon Focus (Touch). It's a bit kinky, albeit confusing. 3. Not restrictive to the scenarios posed in #1 and #2, do abilities such as Inspire Courage boost the damage of ray/MTA spells? 4. Do boosts to damage (perhaps from sources as per #1 and #3) from rays/MTA spells include ability damage? 5. Specifically, when is a held MTA spell discharged? On a sleeve if your finger brushes by it? On the hilt of a two-handed weapon? On tangible "objects" such as aqueous orb/wall of force?
6. I saw numerous contradictory answers regarding the following question: Do half-elves (for example) fulfill the requirement of being "human" and/or "elven" for the purposes of taking feats that require one of those two races, traits that require one of the two races, or archetypes that require one of those two races? 7. As an extension of #6, would abilities/effects that target a race (not subtype) of partial ancestry to the target function as if that target were of that race? 8. Does the ability to cast spell-like abilities of a particular level qualify characters for certain prestige classes that require "Ability to cast spells of X level"? 9. Does proficiency in weapons such as "Longbow" or "Whip" extend to a more specific type, such as "Longbow, Composite" or "Whip, Scorpion"? Does the reverse apply? I ask mainly because while the inverted comma notation is used there, we do not have "Sword, Short", "Sword, Long", and "Sword, Bastard" 10. Is combining archetypes with "selective" alterations to abilities (such as a vivisectionist's choice to take a bleeding attack rogue talent instead of a discovery) and archetypes with "mandatory" alterations to abilities (such as the Preservationist's Bottled Ally VI replacing the discovery at 18th level) valid?
11. Can a snag net be used to trip an entangled "flying" creature if the creature is plummeting (perhaps due to an effect such as entanglement)? 12. For exactly which d20 rolls is a natural 1/20 considered automatic failure/success? 13. Can abilities such as the versatile evocation power of the admixture subschool be applied to spells not of their parent class? 14. How many rerolls can a creature under the influence of a cackled fortune hex chose to take? In essence, what does "benefited" mean? 15. As full plate encases nearly a humanoid's entire body, does it grant improved cover? 16. How large does an object need to be to grant partial cover? If it is with respect a creature's size, is this comparison made with only the surface area of the creature visible to the target? 17. Could an internal alchemist "sleep" for 1000 years via breath mastery? 18. Is it possible to have a caster level higher than a character level under certain circumstances, such as the Sorcerer's Arial bloodline? 19. How good (or evil) of an act is using a merciful (as per metamagic) disintegrate spell to "incapacitate" a foe? The last one is a doozy: 19. Suppose the following centaur-like creature possesses the following: 2 arms wielding a greatsword
With a BAB of +8 (with other melee modifiers totaling +0), multiattack, TWF, improved TWF, and under the effects of haste (whose bonus to ATK is negated by other modifiers), what are: A. The maximum # of total attacks able to be performed in a round?
Many thanks!
I post about my posting addiction.
I appreciate your well-written post for a game, GM. Allow me to endeavor a well-written submission. Editing over the next hour or so.
GM: I was thinking of making a character with the following concept: a monk, raised on the archipelago in the Varisian gulf uprooted from his home by pirates looking to stash their illigitimate wares on the area which he resided. Beginning to become "civilized" in the town of Beacon, the monk harbors a grudge towards the ever-increasing emphasis on machinery and is nostalgia for the simplicity of his home. He hopes to be able to reclaim it one day in an affidavit the local governments will obey. Until then, he must accrue enough power to make that happen. Such is his motive for these ventures.
I've not done the setting before, and I am intrigued by it, so I will have a go myself: Set 1: Spoiler:
Set 2: Spoiler:
No complaints, Shano - your rolls beat the pants off of mine! Even with 2d6+6, both sets are worse than 20 point buy.
I posted on the connection thread with the basics of my character concept. What are Arnama's feeling towards outsiders and Orcs?
I would also like to try my hand in this endeavor! Spoiler: Usul Rockbender
Half-Orc Druid True Neutral Judgmental, stand-offish, blunt The large, coarse mixed breed concerns himself little with the affairs of individuals but rather a community as a whole. The tinkering of man is recognized by him as a paradoxical part of nature, but occasionally the tinkering can go too far. To this end, Usul keeps himself relatively isolated from large bodies of people lest he become assimilated into an extremist body without knowing it; this isolation makes him seem curt and brash to many others, though he means nothing personal by his comments most of the time. As far as geography: Kassen of Nirmanthas? I'm thinking it would make sense if Usul then came from the Hold of Beltzen then as an orphaned child, though perhaps raised not right in Kassen itself; he is a druid, after all.
If there is room, I would brink my big green friend along. Krek is currently a warrior-priest of Gorum. Though his faith has not been shifted in the slightest, is experience with a few of the people from Edge of Anarchy has opened his views to alternate styles of combat; he now realizes bigger isn't always better .... though he still likes to be big. Mechanically, this means while he prefers combat with a sword now, he will probably begin to delve into spells as the story progresses. Story-wise, he will become more curious and inquisitive to see if there are more situations beyond his prejudices which would otherwise escape him. With the escape of the city, he is very excited, and no strings bind him. It's just how he would have it!
Unlike Gern, Krek did not think to conceal his appearance. Instead, he counted on his stamina and speed to get him to safety quickly. That is, until Alandra was to go with him. He paced the girl to their destination though - there was no time to waste.
Krek had little to say to Kroft before the day of the execution itself. He did not feel bad for the woman, nor did he much care about Trinia. He did, however, see the opportunity to cause trouble with the oppressive city, so he gladly took it. The clothes he'd been questioning Trep about were those he wore on the day of the event; they fit him better - though a little tight - and were fancier than what he was accustomed to. He looked good for a commoner, albeit a half-Orc, dressed in merchant's best. . His weapon of choice - too large for what they had planned - remained at Trep's place, who, while unknowing of Krek's plans for the day, would no doubt be attending the execution. He and Krek had seen a few together before. At dawn, Krek stopped by the Pantheon to bid farewell to the orphan under his own rescuee's care. While the priest was not available himself, Krek left him a note asking the man to not be disappointed in him - the lawful cleric would probably dislike his actions this day. He gathered half the money he'd accumulated over the past weeks, left the rest with the note, and went on his way. He appeared at the scene in his fine brown trousers and green shirt. Fortunately, along with the clothes had Krek brought a cloak - dark green. The tailors had not been used to making garbs for those of his size, so they erred on the size of it being a bit larger. It worked out for Krek as he could wear the cloak while having range to move with his hands (apart, though not with his greatsword). Like the rest of the group, he acquired a mask for the occasion the day before. Krek was completely oblivious to the nobility which were absent. As the spectacle began, Krek was more entertained than anything else. He did feel a pang of sadness for Trinia when she was dragged from her holding place, but the atmosphere was abuzz with anticipation. It wasn't until the queen herself began talking that his anger began to build. So clear to him it was her only concern was controlling the people in the city, he could barely contain his ire until they were to act. Fortunately, the wait was not long. "Gorum guide our fists!" yelled Krek as those of his party grew stronger. With the large strides of his steps, Krek keeps pace easily with Gern. The two of them were hearty enough to ward off attackers while Trinia escaped. As much as the cleric would have liked to strangle breath from the queen through, he knew the guards flanking her would give him an impossible time; he resigned himself to the escort. Blackjack's appearance only added to the ensuing chaos Krek was enjoying. While jealous HE couldn't level a bow at the queen, it was good someone was doing it. The suggestion to leave the city was something the rebel wouldn't miss, and he made haste to the boat at Lamm's end, trusting in the then-Field Marshal.
Forgive my absence; my computer had a fatal error, and it took me a few weeks to replace it. I wish I could have posted from elsewhere, but I am a teacher, and we are forbidden to use the computers for non-work use. I will make a post later tonight or tomorrow once I've gotten my email accounts back in order and have had some time to read the thread.
Krek, previously unworried with the visitor and more interested in the food on his plate, became very curious with the state of the blabbering military woman. Aside from being unheard of disposition for the guards, the field marshal was here, so something must be up. Unarmed, he went to see what was happening. Thinking along Gern's lines, he looked to see who'd followed her, but seeing as the smaller man had taken care of it, he fixed his eyes on Kroft.
Krek watched the people intently as they formed, sizing up the danger they may have to face. He was looking forward to it. A glance down to Gern reveled a face which was not agitated (for once) but rather calm instead. He blinked. "Fists? If you're not looking to put blood on our hands, words would be a better weapon." He looked to Zalen. "... for someone who is good with them, anyway." Krek got a message across just fine; he knew he wouldn't be the best herald of more delicate news though. "If they move against us though, I won't wait to cut those down. Fists won't win us a fight, but they will surely make it grow. At least with steel you can cull it." He breathed deeply once before saying to their escort: "The first part to proving your innocence is living long enough to defend it."
Krek resigns himself - barely - to keeping the guards at bay with Gern. He couldn't contest the young lady would probably be better in the hands of another, though he didn't much like to leave the scene of the on-going action. He kept his eyes sharp for the sable marine.
Krek follows Gern's lead to their target. If she is found still screaming and in very close proximity to Zalen, and if Zalen does not warn them of the situation quickly: Spoiler:
Krek will sprint over to the couple and roughly lift the lady up and away from Zalen, turn her over, and pin her to the ground forcefully - her arms clasped by his hands. "You thankless wretch! We're keeping you SAFE from the droves of people wanting your head!" Then,... In any case: Spoiler: He turns to Zalen. "She attacked you? Maybe it would be best just to leave her to the winds of chance." Looking at the broken woman made him jealous; no special treatment would ever be given for him, regardless of how unjust the circumstances, and here they were making extraordinary efforts to make sure she got the "fair" treatment the city wanted. It seemed the best way to dish out "justice" was to let each get it for themselves.
Krek sticks close behind the Dwarf, more incensed than not at the guards stopping him. Other than the rooftops, the only problems the party had so far stemmed from the guards - not the mob. If the guards don't buy Gern's story: Spoiler:
"You're stopping workers from your own city in doing their duty. We're trying to be safe and just with her, but keep delaying us, and it won't just be her head people are after!" In any case, Krek paces himself as best he can with Gern to reach the young lady. Unusual for him, his sword will stay sheathed as he has no reason to harm the lady - yet. Hopefully his occasional wresting matches would pay off.
Gritting his teeth as there seemed to be an exchange of the arcane ahead, Krek felt quite useless in his bulky body as he tried not to fall to serious injury or doom perusing the woman.
Krek tries to keep gain on the woman, but finds it next to impossible. He wasn't agile enough for the acrobatics needed! Canopies and rooftops... not something he'd tried to master. Catching his breath and watching his footing, he glanced to his target. Ahead of him, he say Alandra try to stop the woman in her tracks with a command - and she did for a time. "Well-done, priestess!" said the half-Orc, unusual for him to yield a compliment so readily. He was, however, genuinely impressed with her quick thinking. On the inside, he was realizing how useless his muscles were in the situation. That did not stop his drive though. He pressed on.
While a little voice inside Krek told him he wasn't agile enough for such a trip, it was easily trumped by adrenaline. Follow he did - though the voice did prevent him from trying to perform any more acrobatics than necessary. They'd probably result with him falling to the streets below.
Krek relays the success of the group's endeavor's to the man. "Gorum will be glad I'm not just sitting around anymore." He nods toward the dagger. "You must be up to something yourself. What's it for?" After they discuss their happenings a bit, Krek pulls some meat pies (he purchased on the way over) out of a sack to share. "Where's the little orphan? He's been taking to the place well, I'm guessing."
"Good day to you fellow. Do be a good man and direct us to the abode of the artist Trinia Sabor. My better half has sent me to hire the young lady to paint a portrait of my my wife and I for our anniversary. What with the city in the state it's been she insisted I bring these hirelings" he waves vaguely in the direction of his friends "for my protection. Not that I can't take care of myself mind you!" and he indignantly fumbles about for the hilt of his rapier. Krek bristles at the mention of being a "hireling" for protection, though he knew he fit the role well. Still, even knowing Zalen's illusion of a group was for a cause of which he was part, the large half-Orc had a difficult time keeping a straight face. Further, he was more distracted from seeing things he otherwise would've. Fortunately, Ayedah filled him in on what his eyes missed. His intuition missed little though. He detected not only the fear in the servant, but also the control in the nobleman. Disliking the wealthy much-so out of jealousy, he didn't care for the man the moment he saw him. The scuffling up the stairs only brought his feelings to a head. Taking after Ayedah, he was right behind her to see what happened.
Krek was rather amused at his friend's obsession with the drug, though he knew Trep's happy mood would only last as long as the vials. "Don't worry - I'll get you for a favor later" he said, letting the man know while the pleasure he got was fickle, Krek would not forget. He had a quick meal before heading to sleep.
Apologies for the lack of replies this week. I lost power the day I was to post before going out of town for a few.
I'll wait one more day for Krek to chime in re. the loot (as he sometimes seems to only be able to post sporadically) and then I'll divvy it up anyway and if he wants something we'll just fix it after. Krek didn't have much preference in the loot except for the drug vials he pocketed. In the future, it's safe to assume unless I make some note (including those in his thoughts) in the RP thread, Krek won't care much about items unless they are metallic weapons or armor.
1. After finishing their deeds down at the docks, Krek makes his way home. Though the hour was untimely for most in the city, it was about right for Krek - and Trep. More lightlife than daylife, Trep would not have been surprised to see Krek return. He was, however, surprised to see Krek withdraw (1) of the vials of the drug and hand it to him. It had been a while since the half-orc had done something for his friend, but he remembered this substance as being well-liked by him. He makes small talk with Trep before going to bed, avoiding pointed questions about his job - though letting himself brag about the large arachnids he sliced. 2. He made his way to the Pantheon. After buying some sweet bread at a bakery, he stopped in to see his rescuer and his rescuee whom he'd left in the place's care. He split the bread with them and was curious to how the boy was doing. 3. It was about time the large man had some new clothes. The rags he'd been using for the past many days had about seen the end of their time. He stopped in a tailor's shop to be fitted for some new garments - a set on the ornate end and one on the more functional side.
Krek, while not convinced of Zalen's speculation the woman was simply being used, does not care ot her actions much one way or the other. He nods to the man's call to speed. "Let us make haste."
Kroft was not the only one with intuition.
Krek saw right through her bait, but he didn't take it. Instead, like Gern, he was quite interested with why she'd hired a group to go after her. Even with the desire to prevent the lynching, he couldn't imagine just throwing the money at a bunch of ragtag task-doers not in her guard. Looking at the young lady's appearance, Krek was beginning to think they would go after anyone; Kroft on a mere feeling was dispatching them to capture her for a trial. After Kroft's response to Ayedah though, Krek didn't buy the woman's intentions entirely. "She must be deadly. Why else would you send a handful of people to fetch her when an escort of two would do it?"
As far as NPCs, if they go into the background, just please don't forget about them. Krek plans to tend to the orphans he took to the Pantheon from time to time.
Taken aback by the deceitful appearance, it wasn't so much the duplicity as the revelation which occurred to Krek: I'm through with these whorehouses. Dwarves in disguise! The momentary revolt fading, Krek was more than content at the money thrown their way, though he could only wonder at the value of what Halvarra kept. Though he kept his hand on his hilt, he made no action to oppose Halvarra's claim. He was, however, increasingly worried about the guards' discovery of them at this scene. Even with the tacit blessing from the marshal, they had made a deal with this mistress, and he doubted they would talk their way out of it lightly. Backing up to the door, he kept an eye on the intoxicated members of their group as the poison ran its course.
Trailing behind Gern, Krek becomes agitated at the deal with the box. There must be something VERY worthwhile in there. Biting his tongue, he contented himself to see just what it was Halvara desired when she opened the chest. Not surprised at the numbers of people there - people always flock to a scene - he looked over the heads of them for any he may have known/thought as dangerous. Seeing none, he kept on his way. In short time, the agitation faded, and satisfaction emerged. The battle was won, and the group was no weaker for it - the young barbarian had earned his respect, and none his dislike, which was usually quite a tall order.
Krek inspects the vials and immediately recognizes the drug - one of Trep's favorites. Knowing how much he liked it (and how expensive it was), he pocketed what he could of the completed stuff. Also, knowing the effects of the drug on his friend well, he keeps an eye on the intoxicated women for any sudden erratic action. A little upset at seeing the production come to an end, Krek knew the man had overstepped the line, even the grace of the vice taxes not being enough for the city to ignore him. Still though - the drug would only become rarer now, and Trep would have to look elsewhere. He then turned to reflect on the potency of Ayedah, impressed with the young warrior.
As he enters the room, Krek takes a moment to understand his surroundings, but the women's movements make it clear. "Drugs. Lots of them." He watched the ladies drone around for a short bit before taking a curious stance on the drugs themselves. Itching for a look, he moved in closer, barely restraining himself from taking a vial and looking.
Lowering his weapon in disappointment, Krek approaches the cleric and grabs his arm straight. "We'll see what the problem is and if we can fix it. What are you doing here though?" The Half-Orc wasn't one for coincidence - he wondered as to the young man's motives.
Krek steps into the room and stands to the right side of the table, his weapon at the ready.
Krek raises his sword at the closed door. "I can hear one of them yelling about something. We aren't alone yet." Feeling the positive energy channeled by Alandra rush through him, he had even less reason to be worried - not that he would be anyway. "Quickly, before they have a chance to plan an attack."
After helping Gern to his feet, the Half-Orc's confidence is too much for him to handle after the defeat of their enemies; he brazenly walks over to the wooden door with his sword in hand ready for whatever may come from it. "Maybe it's that box the wench kept talking about." Were it not for the party being separated currently, he would've opened the door right then. However, he felt it best to wait for them - though he was impatient. The pain from his wounds did not bother him much; in fact, he came to relish the feeling a little.
Krek keeps his eyes on his enemies as he tries to help Gern out of the webbing with one hand, the other on his sword.
Krek is furious at his failed swing, not seeing the beneficial side-affect of it. He rails again against the spiders, his temper aiding his energy.
However, it doesn't aid his precision.
Cursing his ankle, Krek moves to the front of where Gern lays, his sword drawn and his temper ready. "Come fight us, insects!"
Though Krek would love to turn around and see the freed creature for himself, he didn't dare; since apparently, by Ayedah's question, only he could see the entirety of what lay below, nobody else could keep a trace on the spiders. "A few have webbed themselves into a corner," he said to the barbarian next to him. Though his eyes told him getting to them would be difficult, his ego was louder. "Zalen is right - the three of us should be able to handle them. Not if you can't see down there though." His eyes kept rapt on the enemies, though his ears wandered. This dragon-esque creature they'd freed sounded very grateful to Krek. Perhaps too grateful. It was exceedingly difficult for him to tell though, not having known the creature for long and not even being able to look upon it as it communicated. Krek did his best to ignore the stench below.
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