Mercy's page

My DM duties are going to done in few weeks, can you please cancel my Patherfinder subscription

thanks

In Burnt Offerings in room E8 (Communication Room) my players comprehended languages on the message the projected image of Karzoug is saying and it mentions the name Alaznist. Who is Alaznist? Is he/she the Runelord of Bakrakhan, the domain that shared one of its borders with Shalast?

Sorry if this question has been asked, but a search on Alaznist didn't turn up any posts?

Mercy

Older group looking for players. Currently playing the Rise of the Runelords AP. We usually play about 2 to 3 times a month mostly Sunday, but some Saturday games. We currently have 4 players looking for 1 or 2 more.

email me sfarmer4 (at) kc.rr.com if interested

Journal of Brindle Bristlethistle
(Written in Brindles unique cipher)

It was a typical evening inside the Rusty Dragon, a bustling crowd has gathered for good conversation over a warm meal and a few pints. I was seated at my usual place, upon a stool at a small table in the corner. I casually sipped my port while watching the crowd, occasionally picking at a plate of smoked sausages, spiced potatoes, and roasted peppers. A budding young musician strumed his lute and sang a Varisian sailing song. The young man had a good voice and was a capable lutist, but his star was soon eclipsed by something far more entertaining. The door parted and in walked a nondescript gnome in traveling clothes. It was what followed him that tickled me the most… Enter the jester. A scruffy-looking halfling leading an ass followed next. Ameiko was immediately on him, chewing on his ear and pointing at his ass. The poor fellow just stood there dumbfounded for a minute before acquiescing to the proprietor’s demands and taking the beast outside to the stables where it belonged. Any animal that isn’t smart enough to not s&&@ where it sleeps does not belong indoors. They had the appearance of persons who had been traveling for some time, and neither appeared to be profitable marks, especially the halfling. I bet that he carries chicken bones inside his coin-purse and tells the future by reading tea leafs. The gnome produced a handful of coins and handed them to Ameiko, who then gave him a pair of keys. Together the two went up stairs, and returned minutes later, wearing the same traveling clothes and looking just as dirty as they did when they walked in. They stood there atop the landing of the stairway and scanned the crowd for a seat, an unfortunate habit that ones of diminutive stature must employ and that I myself am afflicted with. As their eyes began to drift my way I became acutely aware that I might be mistaken for a kindred soul and quickly began to sink as low as I could in my seat, but the halfling saw me regardless. Curse our incredibly keen eyes! The pulled up stools and introduced themselves as Mathias and Kestac. Mathias seemed personable enough, and he had a marvelously mischievous sense of humor that I appreciated. Kestac was somewhat dour, especially when he started a tirade about the reclamation of stolen lands and what not. I wanted to slap him and scream, get a grip man, we’re halflings for Desna’s sake! We have no land! But instead I faded out and nodded occasionally. It wasn’t long before the subject of professions came up. I chose to perform the role of an import/export merchant from Magnimar searching for an adequate building to establish trade. I bored them with diminishing profit margins due to the rising costs of transportation and the increased taxation of marketable goods. I smiled as their eyes began to glaze over. Ask me about my business… I think not! Mathias professed to occasionally tinker in the arcane arts while Kestac spoke of being an attendant of nature’s divinity, a tree hugger if ever I saw one.
My second surprise came later that evening when a bald, robed man, with a full beard arrived. He was a giant of a man, his head nearly touching the lentil of the doorway as he entered. A scimitar hung at his side and a falchion was strapped across his back that screams, “Look at me… I’m dangerous!”… Enter the buffoon. You have to love the predictability of a brute; with them you always know where the boundaries lie. Don’t make personal insults about their appearance or question their courage or strength, and be sure to compliment them on their scars, which inevitably leads to them telling tales of their heroic deeds and killing of things, which is what makes them happiest, killing and then bragging about it. The Bedouin noticed Kestac and the two exchanged greetings in the barking language of the Shoanti and pulled up a chair. The man introduced himself as Kormet. He to had a sob story about lost lands, but with him I was forced to pay closer attention. The night continued with Kormet and Kestac monopolizing the conversation about the virtues of their tribes and blah, blah, blah… I’m not sure if it’s a trait of most Shoanti, but they seem to mistake similarity with kinship. Or it could be that my profession and city life has left me jaded and cynical.
I hope that they have not mistaken my cordiality with true friendship and attempt to accompany me to tomorrow’s dedication ceremony and following party. So many marks crowded together, what a perfect opportunity for the Night Spider to pay a visit to some of the wealthier residences before departing this quaint town. I’ve compiled a short but distinguished list. These bumpkins had better not spoil this opportunity for me.

P.S. I was later corrected that Kestac’s ass is in fact a pony named Cinderhoof.

What's going to be the nature of evil in the Patherfinder world? Will it be as black and white as it is in the "generic" D&D world?

Later

Hello All

It’s my turn to DM for my crew, and I’m looking for some suggestions.

First some background: Our group has a death mechanic whereby our
characters are allowed to “die” a number of times equal to their Con
modifier +1. This allows us a little more continuity as we progress
through the adventures. Currently, it’s a little awkward and that’s
were I’d like to make some changes, by giving our group’s “Death” rule
an “in-game” reason for the mechanic.

I’m going to rip off the Matrix for my deep mega-plot where the
“in-game” action is a virtual reality scheme ran by Mind-Flayers, most
likely. When a character “dies” he’ll have a Will save to get hints and
depending by how much he beats the DC he’ll get progressively better
clues on what is going on. The party will also get a Will save (slightly
higher) to clues that something is wrong when a character “dies” in
their presence.

Eventually they will “break” out the of the Matrix and start
playing their “True” selves to overthrow the Mind-Flayer’s kingdom.

I’m thinking of going to a different system then 3.5 when the overthrow
portion of the campaign starts, but I’m not sure what. If I did go to
another system I’d like to keep it d20, but with a more futuristic slant.
Do you have any suggestions on what system I should look into?

If I decide to keep going 3.5, do you have any suggestion for published
adventures that feature Mind-Flayers as the main antagonists?

Later