Spwack's page

Finally managed to get the Paizo page to load. One of my other games on here kinda collapsed, and this was the last one. It was a really good run guys, but I'm sorry to say I need to pull out. Thanks Volsung!

Just dropping another vote for Monsterhearts. I need my fix reeeeal bad.

I think the campaign has been set to inactive... is it?

Sorry for being flaky! I've just started university, and, well, life seems to have gotten in the way of hobbies a bit. I'll contribute as much as I can, thank you for waiting up a little for me.

Krenin has a task for each of the Nameless (once, of course, he learns their names):

For the gnomette trapper, to take a few other villagers and procure supplies, with an emphasis on coming back in one piece rather than successful.

For the eleven beggar, a short synopsis of his former lifestyle would be appreciated, followed by his ingratiating himself into the other villagers in a subtle, shrewd manner, pending further instructions. (Re: ferreting out dissent)

For the satyress prostitute: a back rub. To begin with.

I do indeed. Not saying it wasn't hardcore, because the amount of insects involved was slightly insane. As was the amount of rum-induced pirate impressions.

Going camping, shall return in three days time

Going camping, shall return in three days time

Bonds:

Murikhom is my ideological rival

Phraanz would make an ideal ally, plenty of muscle, few scruples

[open, suggestions wanted]

[open, suggestions wanted]

Questions:

New and Important: How reality fits together, or rather, how it doesn't

Memorable treasure: Definitely LASaROS.

'orrible Death: Technically I saved Gul from that one. Zing! Take that heathens.

Motivation: Thirst for Recognition – Be recognized for your actions. Your friends recognition is nice but not enough of what you're after.

I'll be taking +1 Con (lord knows I need it) and The Ol' Charm, food providing. The religious gigolo route is tempting, but I think that's better explained by the Punks third upbringing choice: Organized Crime – You are owed a favor by someone in high places. Name them. After you call in your favor, they owe you nothing, but you get +1 ongoing to dealing with them socially in the future, as good will is everything in the Family.

No place is higher than heaven, and no swindle is more profitable than religion.

If anyone is interested I'm just starting to get together a Monsterhearts game over on Discord, send me a message if you'd like to join in.

I beseech thee, Lord, protect my friends that they may come to see your truth in time.: 1d8 ⇒ 8

I'm pretty sure that means everyone is full health. Miracles are fun.

Krenin arises from the floor, newly emboldened by his contact with the otherworldly, and takes centre stage before the nearest group of villagers. Something deep inside his brain clicks, and his drow heritage rises like a toothy predator from the spine-crushing depths.

"Friends, peons, countrymen, lend me your tears! Witness how our eight-legged gods protect us from those who wouldst doest us harmeth! Can you not see how your children would be safe from illness and misfortune? All you must do is... kneel. Kneel, and become one with the truth."

As he does so, he scans the area for his next move. Surely there must be some clue, some hint of how to escape this torrid, endlessly shifting nightmare. Or bend it to his will.

Spout Lore: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (1, 5) + 1 = 7

If anyone is interested I'm just starting to get together a Monsterhearts game over on Discord, send me a message if you'd like to join in.

Indeed, the sheer number of posts is indeed a little intimidating.

Krenin observes rather passively events thus far. Secreted away in his corner, LASaROS draped over himself, he croons softly to the cephalopodic creature, and asks only what he can do to obey his new lord and saviour.

Rolling something, Cha or Int? Maybe this is a Spout Lore? Interpret as needed: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 1) = 3

Krenin scoops up his new deity. Sure, a bit of slime may end up on his tweeds, but it's blessed, holy slime. So that's alright. LASaROS is now draped across Krenin's back and shoulders, various appendages curling softly around his neck and under his armpits.

"I... I don't know how to feel about this."

Krenin blinks for a moment. Then he faceplants with startling ferocity. From his position facedown, he's a little muffled, but you can still clearly hear a "Praise be to Lasaros, may his tentacly blessing be moist upon your brow and firm betw- actually never mind the second part of that prayer."

If it's ok, and Krenin survives, I'm looking at The Punk as a potential route. Otherwise, a Bard should suffice.

Krenin nods wisely at the gnomes words "Yes, yes, Lassister did mention something of the sort. Unfortunately, without the assistance stout men and/or gnomes, or some sort of conjurers tricks, we poor villagers shan't be able to restrain such a creature. However...?" He wiggles an eyebrow. Not seductively, merely a hint of impropriety.

Attempting to Parley again, this time offering the assistance of the townsfolk in return for their assistance in capturing the elemental. Or something like that, I'll let the dice do the talking.

CHA: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (5, 1) + 2 = 8

While talking, Krenin is thinking furiously. In the old stories, it was water that killed the demons of flame, while earth bound them. Then again, in other stories water rendered them powerless while earth did nothing at all. If you knew their true name, one would be forced to obey you, and the plucky youth always managed to beat them at a game of riddles, the wager being exactly that: a name of power. But then there was those engravings, with the...

Spout Lore: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (3, 5) + 1 = 9

Oh, when I'm using my ability to command unnamed NPC's to do my bidding, you'll know about it.

Bow chicka wow wow.

Krenin slides his way over to the gnomes, doing his best to position himself in front of he body. "Hey dudes! Woah you brought food? Sweeeet. We've got like, a shit-ton of gold here so we can pay you and then you can leave and everything will be grand. Also, what's the uh... what's the weather like? Outside. Right now."

Parley and/or Defy Danger with Cha: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (4, 2) + 2 = 8

Bond: 1d20 + 1d4 ⇒ (7) + (4) = 11

"Uh... guys? Everyone? I think... I think shit's on fire, yo. We deeeefinitely shouldn't open that door. Like, any time soon. Who knows, it could be a..."

Spout Lore for what doesn't mind being on fire and can talk: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (5, 4) + 1 = 10

Krenin gags for a moment, then steels himself and springs to his feet, floppy hat flopping... floppily. He goes over to the southern barred exit and inspects it, maybe giving it an idle kick. Toes thus stubbed, he limps, cursing quietly over to the stained glass windows, and peers through, hands used to give his eyes cover.

It's barred from the inside... hence there must be something outside... que jumpscare?

2d6 - 1 ⇒ (2, 4) - 1 = 5

Subscribing

Feelsbadman. I dun wan Krenin to die.

To the next mistress, obviously. Or away from the large fists and stout cudgels of a number of irate husbands. Both really. Krenin has his priorities sorted.

And 1HP is all I need. Obviously. I didn't even see that Con roll. Wow.

Strength: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 2) = 6
Dexterity: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 3) = 10
Constitution: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 1, 1) = 3
Intelligence: 3d6 ⇒ (4, 3, 6) = 13
Wisdom: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 2) = 7
Charisma: 3d6 ⇒ (5, 6, 5) = 16
Occupation: 3d30 ⇒ (24, 12, 19) = 55
Race: 2d13 ⇒ (5, 7) = 12
Gender: 2d4 - 2 ⇒ (1, 2) - 2 = 1
Name, Quirk, Trait: 3d100 ⇒ (97, 89, 4) = 190

Dandy Drow Hitchhiker named Krenin (the Fabulous) who has a swan-like neck and is aloof.

... I think I'm in love.

Ooh me! Mememememe!

Nuuuuuu. Great sadness sweeps over me. We are witnessing the end of an era. That does sound acceptable, much as it pains me. Were it not for the number of games I am already (attempting) to run, I would volunteer, so it is with a heavy heart I bid you adieu, MCKhaos.

Poke poke

Most definitely fair enough. That being said, I'm planning on running an AW game over on discord in about a months time, spots are limited but if people drop out it would be nice to have spares. The setting is Heaven's Fall, an Underdarkesque cavern filled with creepy crawlies and worse, with the action taking place under the watchful eye of God up in his tower.

Am a fan of this idea, and have stolen it already.

Sounds awesome!

Zogentsetzt would be an appropriate German compound word. Google translate gives "attracted horrified" as zogen entsetzt which is just too good to pass up.

I'm liking how this conversation is going and it's good character stuff. If Alex replies soonish then that's gee, otherwise I'll make something... Exciting... Happen.

Obvious and easy magic Hylos, no roll needed of course. Your forearm does itch abominably though. Mansterveld, the balls in your court, what do you do?

Hylos, you are in a dimly lit, cavernous hallway, with a sentient hamster on your tail.

What do you both do?

You duck around the corner and the... thing? Passes by you without remarking on your presence. What's this about a golden crown? Mansterveld, if you are serious in going after Hylos, he's going to either know you are coming unless you have a spell or want to do something nifty (i.e. dice related) to get a one up on him.

You 110% are in Buckingham palace. All the guards teeth are suddenly considerably worse, and they all say "wot" and "chap" a lot.

Mansterveld, how serious are you in catching up to Hylos. Hylos, how the f$&+ did you get in here? Want to Read a Sitch and take charge or let the MC have free reign, because you are pretty sure there's something coming down the ornate hallway. The padding footprints sound... Purple. And minty.

The Prince's name is Leopold the 1st. Sometimes known as "Prince Charming" by the Royalists, or "The Brat" by the rest of them.

Mansterveld, what do you think the name of the Crown Prince is? If I like it you get a free XP. Either way, they are staring at you as you walk past, but don't pursue. The face of the guard you heart-attack'd is starting to turn black and splotchy.

Hylos you are currently within one of the inner courtyards. The wall is stone covered with elaborately carved wooden panels. Do you recognise any of the carvings? What's on them? Either way, the entire wall absolutely reeks of expensive magic made by expensive magicians. What do you do?

The dice have spoken.

All the soldiers charge in and murder Mansterveld. 6 harm AP. Because reasons.

Just kidding, of course. But I haven't received anything from him for a while now. Not sure if it's an internet access thing or not. So, for now, his fate is undecided.

Hylos however, is scott-free. Where are you going? What are you looking for?

A patch of skin flakes off the back of your hand and is whisked away by the breeze. Probably.

That was a 7-9 roll on a move, which was the result of a tough choice or hard bargain. Rather than being suspicious of both of you (a 6) or neither (10 or more) they are only suspicious of one. Who's it going to be?

Let's see. You decide: Are they more suspicious of you or of Mansterveld?

Let's see a roll with Brute or Grit. You decide which.

Yes, about a dozen. Well, exactly a dozen. But now the corporal and one grunt is down, and they have no idea what's going on. A few of them look like they are about to charge, a few others look like advancing in reverse is an appropriate strategy. What do you do?

Post from Mansterveld:

The weakest, scrawniness member of the soldiers is located via the Entropy sphere. This particular poor sod would wake up twice a night with stabbing pains in his arm.

Fracture Reality: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (6, 5) + 2 = 13

Chosen: The spell achieves it's goal, the spell is cast correctly

The weakling seemingly faints at the sight of blood. Within a few minutes, the slight arrhythmia will instigate massive instabilities and cause a heart attack. And violent cancer, but we can ignore that for now.

The colonel staggers back, but it's too late. Him, his metal armor, and the very air around him let out a tortured shriek as their density increases dramatically. The forces release, and the twisted mess is thrown across the room.

The other soldiers can't believe their eyes.

Your skin starts itching.

What do you do?

Attempt? Sounds like a bunch of rolls.

Let's see, that's one mana down, a Fracture Reality roll (mastered) and Roll the Bones at +1 because reasons.

Steel with silver inlay, at first glance. For a second glance or more information, you'd need to roll.

The Private is speechless. Luckily for him, the colonel turns up. A corpulent colonel named Carl. He's fat. He's bald. His ceremonial armor makes him look like an entire pig stuffed into a can. He's looking to retire in a few years. He is not happy to see either of you.

"Hurrumph. What in the blazes... is that... is that Private Jenkins all over the floor?"

Mansterveld, if you press the edit button under your most recent post, you can resend it using your new Alias. This means your stats and such will be displayed next to your name. Ask Hylos for help if you need it. I'll do a full post later tonight

The private looks around, confused and disturbed.

"I-I-I-I don't... I don't know, who are you, what are you doing here? Why..."