Hi customer service people,
Thank you very much for your assistance in this matter,
I sent an email a while back, but it got no reply and my subscription tags seem to be still up , so I figured I'd post it here.
I need to put all of my subscriptions on hold. Nothing you guys did, just cruel economics. I just moved, I payed two rents in September . Now to top it off my dog has taken very ill, and I need to conserve my cash.
As an aside, anyone who'd like to help a long-time customer with some serious vet bills I have a GoFundMe started. I love you guys, and I do hope my life improves so that I can visit you all next PaizoCon. -Patrick
I know you goblins are working hard on
Taking an idea from my PbP pal Storyteller Shadow, I am concentrating my recruitment threads in one spot. There will be several openings soon, and I want to have a hub to look at prospective applicants.
Bribes always welcome
The days stretch out like winter festival toffees in the pink mouths of fat farmer children. How long had you been in the Black Tower? Days? weeks? months? Time was a malleable concept when there was no sun or moons to mark its passage.
The bars of your cage disturb you with their whispers. Forged of exotic magical alloys the Royal Arcanum had devised to contain your power, they are imbued with a malevolent half-sentience. They giggled and mocked you endlessly.
sss.. hee ...hee ..never will you leave... you will die and be one with usssss......
Such petty fetches are beneath your concern, but their constant whispering is an irritant, like a fly one can't seem to catch.
The guards do not whisper, nor do they talk. They arrive at uncertain intervals, bearing gruel in wooden bowls. Their faces are hidden behind mirror-bright visors, their bodies hulking and armed to the teeth.
One day, down the long corridor of days there is a change. Instead of three guards there is a dozen. The bars are angry. They hiss and mutter, upset about something. After the dozen guards set up in a half circle by your never-opened door another man arrives, robed in the scarlet and blue of the Arcanum. He gestures to you and you stand, curious to hear anything new after all this time.
"Someone wishes to meet with you, prisoner. Do you accept the invitation?"
The question is so incongruous, so bizarre you involuntarily laugh
The guards approach the door and command you kneel. They enter and secure you with the smaller cousins of your hateful bars. The metal bites at your legs and arms like angry ferrets, growling maledictions. They lead you out of your cage.
You depart the Black Tower for the first time since your capture. Outside it is winter. Snow lies thick on the land and your thin prison clothes leave you scant protection from the elements. You care not, you marvel at the ice-blue sky and golden winter sun.
You are led to a hall, with benches receding back into the shadows. A law place, though you saw no trial, no judge. No one questioned your guilt. The hall is thronged with guards and officals of various stripes. You are led to a dock, one of several lined up in front of the judge's bench. There you are chained fast by arm and leg to solid ring bolts in the floor. You note others are chained next to you.
As you await this passion play to unfold you test your strength against the chains, but all your powers are muted. The metal saps you, you are no more powerful than a mouth-breathing dirt-eating peasant. This awakens a smoldering anger in you. You swear one day to avenge this humiliation.
A man arrives and climbs into the judge's chair, surrounded by a phalanx of armed guards. He is armed and armored as well, with heraldic tokens that bespeak his prominence in the royal Argoanian court. His squire holds a Gladius Judicus across open palms, signalling this noble has the right of summary justice throughout Argoan. He looks at you and those chained next to you, a solemn expression bolted to his high-cheekboned features.
DO NOT STICK FINGERS IN CAGE
Ok. Here is our basic out of character discussion page. I figured I'd go over a few ground rules:
Bribes always welcome
Once upon a time, there was an impossible city. This city sat at the top of an infinite spire, at the center of the infinite Outer Planes. It was known by many names: The Cage, The City of Doors, Portalheim, Crossroads, The Ring, The City of Dreams, The City of Fog. Its proper name was Sigil.
Sigil was not laid out on ground like most other cities. It was ring shaped. If you walked in one direction you would arrive back at your starting place in about eight hours time. There was no native soil, no quarries of stone. Underneath its streets were endless catacombs reaching down and down to places no sane sentient would go. The buildings were made of imported materials, for Sigil was a city dedicated to importing. The city was the nexus of a million portals: Some steady for Millenia, some as brief as a sigh. It was said you could travel anywhere in Creation from Sigil if you knew the proper place, time, and key.
Sigil had no sun, no moon, no stars. What it usually had was rain and fog. You could tell how long a cutter had lived there by the quality of their cloak and boots. There was light, and it would let things grow after a fashion, but it was weak, and it faded quickly. The city dwelt in a near-constant twilight.
An impossible city needed an impossible ruler. Thus the Lady of Pain claimed suzerainty over the Cage. Few saw her, few wanted to. Her word was law, and she could send anyone to the Mazes who defied her laws. Her very shadow would cut you like a knife should it fall upon you. Her minions the Dabus maintained the city: sweeping sidewalks, pruning the ever-growing Abyssal razorthorn, patching cobblestones. These strange servitors were silent, only conversing by a series of bright pictograms that appeared over their horned heads.
The city was divided into Wards: The Lady's Ward, The Lower Ward, The Guildhall Ward, The Hive, The Market Ward, and The Clerk's Ward. These wards were further divided into districts, which were then further divided into neighborhoods. The scale of the city was staggering: Some ten million sentients lived here by some accounts.
In The Market Ward sat the biggest open-air market in all the planes: The Great Bazaar. A huge district in its own right, almost 2/3 of the Market Ward's area, it was bigger than many Prime cities. It was the home turf of the Indep faction, a loose affiliation of liberty-minded cutters who valued trade above all else. Fortunes were made and lost daily among the canvas-topped stalls.
One feature of this massive market was a subculture of young beings of every description tasked with moving goods from point A to point B. Horses fared poorly in the acrid air of Sigil, and merchants needed strong backs and fleet feet to get their goods to their destinations. Many young folks without prospects elsewhere try their luck among the shouting throngs of the Great Bazaar
Just a quick curious question. At some point a year or three back, the code in the online game section was changed so that aliases that were frequently used to post in a PbP thread would appear at the top of the drop down box. I love that function, but it doesn't seem to work in games 'of a certain age'. I was wondering if there was any way of retrofitting this functionality to work with my ancient PbPs, or whether it is just too much trouble. Just thought I would ask. Thanks!
Have you ever fretted over making a rule call, sure you saw the proper passage somewhere, but can't remember where?
Are you hopeless with math and remembering acronyms?
Do adding together the myriad bonus stats and the like make you crazy?
Do you have great concepts for characters/NPCs/Monsters/scenarios but you just can't pull them off due to weak rules fu?
Well, welcome to the club! I have hung around here since Pathfinder was just a twinkle in Jason Bulmahn's eye and I still get crosseyed making a character. So, I am starting this page for all of us who can get confused with the simplest aspects of the game.
This is a no judgement zone. As I have mentioned, I suck at rules. I really do. I've been playing RPGs since 1979, and I do so by the seat of my pants. I am starting this thread to perhaps give myself and other folks with issues a place to post 'dumb' questions and have the more erudite among the Paizomind assist us.
So if you have a question that's bugging you, ask it. If you see a question you know the answer to, answer it. Thus we all help each other out.
Just a thread for a few friends to hang out. Nothing important going on here, just gaming stuff and idle chatter.
The golden rule:
Feel free to post, if you wish. We are rolling with OG FAWTL rules here. No politics or subjects that stray into that realm. You will be warned if you post something in that nature. Refusal to stop will result in flagging.
Hello customer service:
I was curious. I went to see if there was a timetable on my shipment of Iron Gods #1, and my subscriptions seem to have missed August. I am reading I am due for #2 in September, but no news on #1. I know I changed my email recently, I didn't know if this had perhaps messed something up.
Bribes always welcome
The sleepy village of Heldren on the Taldor-Qadira border is usually a quiet place. Village life trundles on in its comfortable groove as it has for centuries, with only the occasional bandit raid or monster attack to disturb its rural peace.
However, a disturbing new occurrence has Heldren abuzz. In the heat of Taldorian summertime, a section of the Border Wood is mysteriously snow-cloaked. Whispers of fell magic and rumors of icy monsters can be heard buzzing amongst the patrons of Heldren's sole inn, the Silver Stoat. The whispers are turning to angry mutters, now that word of a large-scale bandit attack has reached the townsfolk.
The consensus is clear: Someone must go to investigate. But who?
This is actually a two-pronged question.
1) If a PC has killed a number of humanoids (let's say goblins for an example) what would the price on a goblin hide go? Would a goblin hide even be worth the trouble of skinning the corpse? Or would it be too thin? Do you think there would be a market for goblin-hide scabbards, armor, etc?
2) What would you imagine the scalp bounty on humanoids would be in border lands? I'm thinking maybe a gold per, as the marches wouldn't be very rich, but the PCs would be doing a service cleaning out the humanoids.
I don't know if this has been addressed, but I figured I'd tap the knowledge base to point me in the right direction :)
There has been talk about player-built structures, settlements and kingdoms. Could an enterprising player construct a dungeon? With all the talk about killing and levels of bounties, I would think perhaps a trap-filled maze with a well-publicized reward at the center would be fun for some to make and others to try and beat. Since the 'adventurers' were putting themselves in danger I assume they wouldn't have the normal bounty/death curse recourse, a dangerous dungeon could be a lucrative source of loot from unwary victims without resorting to banditry
In regards to denizens, could a dungeon-building player recruit monstrous allies? Perhaps a 'if you build it they will come' kind of situation? I was just thinking how the 'owner' could stay neutral to the denizens and maybe have a living complex at the heart of things.
Has there been any discussion of this?
Although about a month ago, I had publicly railed against the PvP architecture of PFO, I find myself still hoping against hope that I can find a niche in the game that doesn't involve PvP or the threat of same.
So, in that vein I am starting this thread to perhaps cross-pollinate ideas with others who find PvP a detestable exercise.
Note: If you like PvP, that's great. Post it somewhere else. You feel like trolling, I'll flag you and move on. I am not making a statement about your prefered method of play, please refrain from saying something about mine.
If you are interested in figuring out something non-PvP we can work together on as a team then by all means, drop a note.
I am leaning towards some sort of trading consortium. The only difficulty I see is protection, but I assume we will have to 'hire' PvPers to actually guard shipments/settlements. It's not a perfect solution, but it will have to do.
Dear Paizo customer support folks:
Due to an unfortunate unforseen financial happenstance, I am going to have to pare down my subscriptions. If you could, please unsubscribe me from the following subscriptions:
Thank you in advance and rest assured I will resume them if and when my troubles clear.
DO NOT STICK FINGERS IN CAGE
So, due to the vagaries of our Hectic lives, it seems our RL game will be a while off. Meanwhile, I figure we can have some fun exploring Sigil, maybe finding a few things out as we go and broadening your characters in ways we don't hAve time for in real life.
Give me some idea what kind of urban adventures you like and I will see what I can do.
Bribes always welcome
It was an impossible city, one spoken in whispers by greybeards in scriptoria and remote towers across the planes. It was a city reached not by land, sea or even air; but by magic alone. It sat at the very center of the multiverse, if such a geographical construct even had any true meaning. Few who heard of its wonders ever gazed upon its rain-soaked streets.
Despite these conundrums, the city was huge. The city collected peoples and cultures from everywhere, gathering them like a beach collects flotsam. It was a city of the defeated and the dispossesed, where even the most hunted and harrowed could find sanctuary. It housed neighborhoods that contained the last remnants of ancient cultures and peoples from places long destroyed or lost in the fastness of time.
It was also a city of power. An emperor of an entire world would count as naught when set against the majesty of the city's merchant princes. Secrets uncounted resided in the libraries maintained by its inhabitants. Wonders of metal and stone poured forth from its many workshops. A river of arms and armor issued from the gigantic brooding foundries that belched soot and fire into the darkened skies of the city every moment of every day. Those who dreamed of fame and fortune often set their sights on its fog-filled boulevards.
The city was called Sigil. Some knew it as The Cage, some The Nexus, still others The Ring. It was ruled by The Lady of Pain, whose very shadow would cut those it touched to ribbons. Some said Sigil was the Lady, and She It. Most did not talk of the Lady long, for to attract her attention was a sure way to get penned in the dead book.
There are ten million stories told along the crooked alleyways of this impossible city. This is but one of them The story of The Mad Badger and The Crimson Masque.
Bribes always welcome
Game Session One: 4.21.12 Medieval Starship Games and Hobbies, Pembroke MA
The game opened in the Swordhold District, Lower Ward, Sigil. The two mercenaries, The Mad Badger and the Crimson Masque met with their boss Tug Stonecutter and a prospective client, Mr Malgrim. Malgrim, a rather frog-like fellow, claimed to be speaking for a group of necromancers who were natives of Acheron, specifically a cube on the first plane called Melreneth. They had recently come under attack by the forces of the Necromancer-king Boretti. Boretti desired the secrets the necromancers had, and was bent on conquering their cube.
Mr Malgrim wanted the two to infiltrate King Boretti's army and destroy his chief commanding officer, one Count Orlov. Orlov is a vampire. Upon his distruction, the two were to bring back any papers they could find to Malgrim's necromantic masters
After a agreeing to a 10,000 GP payment and a bonus 10,000 should they manage to capture Orlov, the two were given directions to a gate in the Great Foundry complex. They ported to Melreneth, and met with the mercenary goblins fighting Boretti's army.
After a rocky introduction (the Mad Badger being an Orc) the two were led to the edge of the goblin trenches by Sgt Mogwurm, a goblin tracker. They infiltrated the trenches and confronted the clockwork zombies Boretti used as soldiers.
After a pitched battle where the two heros dispatched a platoon of clockwork zombies and their captain, a ghoul named Prykos, the Crimson Masque deciphered a map locating Orlov's command bunker. Using fly potions, the two traveled in stealth to the location.
Rappelling into the trench before the bunker, the Crimson Masque made to open up the double metal doors. When he touched the door a loud voice began to scream 'INTRUDER!' over and over. The nearby zombies rushed in, and one managed to coldcock the Crimson Masque. The Mad Badger dragged him up their rope and hid as the bunker inhabitants sent out zombies to capture them. They retreated to try again on the morrow.
OK, Gruumash and DA. I am starting this thread to discuss our rendezvous in nine days. Gruumash is looking into our table arrangements.
I am thinking of setting up a merc situation. You folks will be a recovery team, set on a dangerous mission to recover a MacGuffin in a Bad Place. I love Planescape's flexibility, so we will be using Sigil as a base city.
I would like to see you make a 7th level character. Heroic stats and starting cash. Keep in mind you will likely be running into extreme environments. Plan accordingly. Questions, post them here. We can work on characters here as well if you need them vetted
I have noticed that recently the formatting of the text box has changed slightly. It used to be we could separate paragraphs by two or more lines if need be, but now when you post your post, the paragraphs become compressed together. This leads to an unfortunate 'wall of text' look to longer posts. Is there any way to return it to the previous way it worked? Thanks.
Cambridge at night is a study in contrasts. Brick buildings dating to the Revolution stand cheek-and-jown with three-deckers from the 19th century. MIT's odd buildings rear their rococo heads along the banks of the river Charles. There is a feeling of energy and youth mixed with quietness and decay.
Along Sumner Road, on the eastern marches of Harvard University, a small ancient building sits. The thronging crowds of college students pass it by with nary a glance. It doesn't invite strangers with its iron fence topped with Victorian spear finials. and darkened smoked glass windows.
Despite its formidible appearance, the building is part of the sprawl of Harvard. Two words are carved in the granite above the old-fashioned door, saying only 'Phillips Archives'.
The Drifter leaned on a bus shelter diagonally across from the building. He had been looking for this spot for a long time, or so it seemed, even to one who had seen much in his supernaturally-extended span.
Boston was a lively town to The Drifter's eyes, so much youth, so much vitae. Even in early September there was a feeling of autumn about the trees planted along the road. He had traveled this strange chimerical country since the rise of the Third Reich had made it difficult to remain hidden in Europe. Some Kindred throve in war, The Drifter had always tried to avoid it. Cambridge, this collegate addendum to Boston, reminded him somewhat of Europe, the brick buildings, the air of tradition.
The Drifter's flat grey eyes scanned the door lazily, a hand-rolled cigarette dangling from thin red lips. He had donned the guise of a homeless man tonight, something easy enough for one of his blood to accomplish. He had found over the centuries that the name might change, but the reaction never did. Few wanted to even acknowlege his presence, and that was just the way he wanted it. It didn't hurt that he was using a supernatural talent to enhance his anonymity.
Patiently, he waited. The ebb and flow of humanity passed him by, but none showed the sign of being Kindred. No one approached the Phillips Archives.
There seems to be a lot of buzz about steampunk, or re-imagining the 19th Century as more technological, or expanding on the science fiction dreams of the early masters like Verne or Welles. It's been about in various forms since the Seventies, but has only recently gained mainstream attention.
Does anyone enjoy this genre? I first came scross it in the writings of Michael Moorcook. There were three novels, now compiled into an omnibus called A Nomad of the Timestreams detailing the adventures of a 19th Century British Army officer, Oswald Bastable, who is shunted to various futures and alternate histories (and is later linked to the larger arc of stories dealing with the Eternal Champion concept.)
In the Nineties The Difference Engine was released, an excellent book co-authored by Bruce Sterling and William Gibson. It dealt with the ramifications of Charles Babbage succeeding in making his early computer.
So, does anyone have a favorite Steampunk novel? I have heard good things about Boneshaker but I have yet to peruse it (though it sits in my unread pile).
I started a thread rather badly the other day, which devolved rapidly into yet another (sigh) discussion of what was The One True Game. I would like to try again, hopefully without the flames:
I found a post >here< where someone claiming to have worked on developing World of Warcraft materials for the TTRPG market was going to do some in a Pathfinder vein.
In a like fashion, I am a casual devotee of several MMORPGs. I have a few of the TTRPG conversions, but I was hoping mayhap we could have a discussion or a post up of what elements of the MMORPG 'fluff' would be good for conversion into Pathfinder.
So my question is: What would you like to see Pathfinderized? A monster, an item, an NPC? Does anyone have any homebrew stuff they'd like to share?
In today's Internet world it seems the fine art of insult has devolved into unimaginative snark and banal expletives. I thought it would be nice to reflect back on the days when folks took the time to hone their sarcasm to a razor's edge. So, without further ado, here are a few classic insults (and some scathing replies) from past days:
The exchange between Churchill & Lady Astor: She said, "If you were my husband I'd give you poison," and he said, "If you were my wife,
A member of Parliament to Disraeli: "Sir, you will either die on the gallows or of some unspeakable disease." "That depends, Sir,"
"He had delusions of adequacy." - Walter Kerr
"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire." Winston Churchill
"A modest little person, with much to be modest about." - Winston Churchill
"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure." - Clarence Darrow
"He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary."
"Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?"
"Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I'll waste no time reading it."
"He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know."
"I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it."
"He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends."
"I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend.... if you have one."
"Cannot possibly attend first night, will attend second... if there is one."
"I feel so miserable without you; it's almost like having you> here."
"He is a self-made man and worships his creator." - John Bright
"I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial."
"He is not only dull himself, he is the cause of dullness in others."
"He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up."
"There's nothing wrong with you that reincarnation won't cure."
"He has the attention span of a lightning bolt."
"They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge."
"In order to avoid being called a flirt, she always yielded easily."
"He loves nature in spite of what it did to him."
"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?"
"His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork."
"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go."
"He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts... for support rather than illumination."
"He has Van Gogh's ear for music."
"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it."
DO NOT STICK FINGERS IN CAGE
Greetings fellow refugees! Since I really want to stay away from the whole toxic area now known only as the Often Trollish Discussions (OTD), I figure that since this is ALSO a place to have discussions, we can move here. If you feel a need to chat, but you want to stay away from the OTD, we can try this.
It seems the OTD is kinda all over the place. You have the political/religious debates, more 'social' threads like the FAWTLY towers, funny threads like Untitled, etc. etc. Ever given any thought to splitting these up into different forums? That way if you really didn't want to watch the constant trainwreck/flamefest of the political/religious threads you could close it up without sacrificing the funnier side of the OTD. I would sort it into three broad categories:
Oh and I still think there should be a free-form RPG forum. Switching the last free-form game from OTD to PbP killed it deader than Factol Skall :P
... And truthfully, I am not all that sad. Back at the zenith of its power, Blockbuster earned my ire by their ridiculous terms. The clerks at my local one were nothing short of insufferable, unhelpful, and generally movie-geek versions of the Comic Book Guy character from The Simpsons. I hadn't rented a movie from them for about 15 years, since long before Netflix, Redbox, and OnDemand. I would rather BUY a DVD then rent from them. So it was with a certain amount of glee that I combed their shelves and bought three seasons of Battlestar Galactica for $40 yesterday.
Just an idle question. Is my experience with them a fluke or did others find this company really hard to deal with? And did their smug attitude towards their customers lead to their eventual downfall, or is it just an evolving paradigm of technology that makes the brick-and-mortar video store obsolete? There are several 'mom-and-pop' video stores still functioning that managed to eke out a living in the shadow of Blockbuster in my area, and I am curious if they can survive or even now thrive with Blockbuster folding up their tent. Any thoughts?
Stumbled across this Trailer and thought I'd share. Whoever mocked this up did a pretty good job.
I wonder if anyone could take the fluff of WoD and make a decent movie? I mean, you have all the backstory, it would almost write itself. I know that Aaron Spelling once had a WoD TV show that unfortunately 404ed when the lead died in a motorcycle crash. I would think with all the vampire mania out there now would be the time.
So I am trying to think up some ideas for a group of NPCs that would be a recurring theme in one of my games. The game is set in Sigil (Planescape), so there can literally be any race/class combo you can think of.
The purpose of said group would be to hunt fiends and undead for profit. I am leaning towards them being neutral-oriented with the usual variations. I figure the breakdown would be something like this:
A paladin type (but hopefully a more neutral version)
I have pretty much every WotC 3E book and all the relevant PF ones. Can anyone suggest good PrCs/classes for a party like this 8-10th level? And any good magic items dealing with it?
So after decades of bureaucratic shenanigans with NASA, it seems that technology is finally making private commercial space travel a reality.
This makes me happy, as it is about the only way that we can move on to the next phase of space travel. Hopefully the lure of zero-G manufacturing/ hard vacuum manufacturing/easily accesable solar energy/nigh-infinite raw materials will draw entrepeneurs into a real Space Race rather than the Plant the Flag game the US and USSR played in the Sixties.
So, anyone have a sense what will occur first? orbiting factories and living areas? Bases on the Moon/Mars? Mining colonies among the asteroids?
Will we be able to adjust to space as a species? Or will long-term survival in space require some sort of genetic modification?
Will nanotechnology make space travel redundant? Or will humanity's thirst for exploration lead us outward and upward?