"Older than Elvish, silly. It's Draconic, the language of magic." She looks the parchment over, and reads it aloud. "Hail Vapula! Deliver us from chaos so that we may serve you in eternity. Seize what you can, tear it apart, and savor its sweet bloody taste." The elf-blooded woman shakes her head. "Charming; a prayer of some sort. "Now what really has me worried is talk of Aeteperax. I've no idea what "summoning bats from the darkness" is all about, but that name is a Dragon's name or I'll be hexed. In fact, it's the name of a dead dragon - one slain by the very same Belhaim that the town is named after!" She turns to Nighttail. "Now come on dear, we're all on the same side here. You should let on to what sort of things this Dragon imposter is having you and yours doing. Holding secrets back hurts all of us here."
Davoliznakamushka quickly plunges his blade into the ground, diverting what electricity would have marred him seconds earlier. In the same motion, he ends his song, inspiring Tamerius to have a final twist out of the way of the dragon's breath.
Davo quickly takes a moment to restart his song, and adds to it a song of good hope for the Pathfinders.
Tektite didn't make that list, I did (it's my google doc) I have a lot of functionality built in so it isn't necessarily approachable to others. But yes, I can resume tracking it.
If it us helpful, technological gear (including batteries aka silver disks) are discussed in the prd here. Silver disks as coinage can't be recharged (barring DM fiat), while silver disks as batteries can (with 20% failure chance). So, you should track the two separately.
"Oh, they weren't that bad. Now dealing with Fahd when he's drunk and maudlin, ay that's a challenge. Lets see, now we need wood, to give to the carver, to give to the quartermaster... oh my, keeping track of all this is giving me a headache." Melina plays with her tail innocently, affecting airs of a simpleton.
I think the real division in my gaming group is "programmer/math nerds/engineers" and "liberal arts/story driven" types. Those categories tend to have much larger clashes and personality issues.
Rissi is quiet for a moment as she drifts along behind the others. "Fine, fine. Your puns are adwarfable. Satisfied?" Almost casually, she casts a heroism on herself as an afterthought.
Teos is resolute against the distraction of the snake, but succumbs to the poison!
At 1st level, an eldritch guardian gains a familiar, treating his fighter level as his effective wizard level
Does Eldritch Guardian (of sufficiently high level and the correct alignment) qualify for Improved Familiar. (Note, I think the two statements above apply it does, but there are folks suggesting (on reddit) that it does not - so an official ruling would be nice.
"Remind me to *squeak* avoid you when you are feeling jocular. I am sure I could devise a cantrip for incontinence, if you need assisstance Sealman. I must insist that the particulars of your questions are *chitter* private, dear."
"Humanoids and their peculiar fascination with their *squeak* bodies. I sure your kind would be much *chhh* happier if you simple learned to groom each other occasionally. A good licking does wonders for the state of the mind; I always enjoy one before engaging in any serious research." the ratfolk offers earnestly. "Perhaps we could investigate the discipline of abjuration next?"
I'm running Giantslayer for 6 people. In the spirit of the Kingmaker 6 player conversions, I'll be posting six player conversions here; other community conversions are welcome. Obviously fantastically spoiler heavy; GM eyes only.
Ik' Skull begins to unleash arrows, which fall among orcs like hawks among rabbits.
I'm preparing to run this right now. For book 1, I generated some stats for the key named NPCs in case dice rolls are needed to accompany interactions. Thought I would share.
Albern tries to strike the ettin with his flail as the giant holds him up by his head, but his flail simply swishes back and forth. It seems hopeless, held as he is a giant-arm's length away.
Albern swings but just misses as the giant grabs for him.
He gives out a small squeak as he is lifted off his feet. Uh, ok Mr Brethon. There you go., in response to the man's earlier request.
Albern screams "Your so mean!" He yells then to the other head. "And you're mean too! Stop hurting them!" Emotionally distraught, the little gnome misses his next swing.
95. A demonic figure emerges through the door, hissing and slobbering. A young boy is strapped to it's back. It glances across the room with fiery eyes and lopes over to the bar. The boy then speaks in half-whipser to the bartender "Watered wine, please." 96. A deal has just been struck, rescue the Sultana from the lair of the great wyrm blue dragon Deyrubrujan. The Sultana was kidnapped to exert political leverage over the Sultan. Naturally, he wishes her back. The heroes step outside the tavern door - and where once there was the bustling city of Duwwor, now stands a twisted, colorful and alien landscape of purple stone and green water.
Gamemastery Guide has some town rules, probably the most simple approach (there are more complicated rules in the Ultimate Campaign book for buildings under "downtime" activities). If you want a detailed rule option, go here:
Bit too much like work for my tastes, though :)
Albern steps directly east, summoning his courage to swing. You can't scare me with the dark! I haven't been been afraid of the dark since I was forty years old Despite the boast, his hammer only finds the empty air.
Should I say "I see no solutions given current set of input" criterion? Anyways, using special materials is all way over Albern's head, unless someone specifically tells him otherwise.
Negative energy from cleric significantly higher level, and a monster, when you're at first level... now that's exciting! ;) I'm all antsy pants to see how this plays out.
Shanya skillfully cuts gaps in the magic tracery of runes festooning the door; as the final mystical connection is severed the door slides open. Once again, the party finds themselves in a spacious room resembling the interior of a wooden cottage. Two sets of stairs ascend from this level to a balcony, atop which rests a table; everything seems to be made of some manner of fresh pine. Beyond that balcony, another set of stairs rise to a small alcove and a door. Through the small window of the door streams the sunlight of the outside world. Upon the balcony sits a formidable looking Kellid human, a battleaxe in his right and kite shield strapped to his forearm. He is clad in thick mail coat. As the door slides open he whirls about and issues an exclamation followed by what sounds to be a harsh sounding invective. The well-muscled man quickly repeats his warnings in a hissing tongue. history DC 30:
This is the long dead warlord Ratibor the Bold. Almost 200 years ago, Ratibor the Bold stood among the most powerful barbarian warlords of central Iobaria. During this time, the lands from Okor’s Basin west to Fangard were a massive, bloody battleground for would be emperors. Ratibor commanded a vast army and held control over an expansive territory that stretched along the western border of Fangard from the Ardshrod River to the Syrzemyan highlands. His power and position placed him among the foremost contenders to take the throne of the remnants of New Iobaria. He is rumored, however, to have made a deal with Baba Yaga which he reneged upon, after which he disappeared linguistics DC 20 or Iobarian:
You can make out a few snippets of word; his surprise is obvious, and he seems to be warning you to leave this place. Draconic:
I know not how you came from inside this hut strangers, but you will leave now. I am bound by the crone to slay those who walk these halls without her. Leave and do not return or I will kill you. The man gestures towards the front door with his axe, indicating clearly his desire for the groups departure.
"Wispil is wonderful! I recommend a journey there. Um, you might want to duck though. We only have a few buildings built for giants." Albern breaks in at the mention of his home.
A subtle twang can be heard as Ramenhotep looses a crossbow bolt at the western spider (although he waits until Hralyk has stepped clear, so not to spoil the shot).
"Spiders? Spiders? In Osirion we have giant scorpions - now those are something to be scared of!"
I'm playing a gnome. Impatience is in character!
As Shanya moves closer to the hut and reaches up towards its door (which lies some 15' off the ground) the hut bends down with surprising speed - its beak comes alarming close to Shanya. Up close, she quickly realizes that the beak is larger then she is, and could easily swallow any of the group whole. However, the beak stops about a foot from Shanya and sits there for a moment. The changeling's hair flies in the breeze as the hut breathes in and out. It becomes clear that the hut is smelling Shanya, searching for some manner of scent. Whatever it seeks it seems to find. It clucks - rather loudly - and sits down. The motion is awkward with the hut still shackled by its magical chain. As Shanya's hand touches the door, it seems to swing open lightly and easily and she finds herself looking into a room. It is apparent that this room is larger then the exterior of the hut would suggest. Bundles of dried herbs hang from the rafters of this comfortable-looking room, and along the walls are numerous shelves holding a bewildering variety of glass jars, bottles, and vials containing all manner of strange magical components and alchemical ingredients. A massive cauldron sits in the middle of the room. No fire burns under the pot, but the liquid within it bubbles and churns, and white fumes rise and lap over the brim. Except and for the cauldron, the room strongly suggests a simple country cottage. A large stove, writing desk, bookcase, and fireplace complete the room, along with a number of crates, barrels, and sacks. On the desk sits a cracked bowl holding a chicken's egg. A short flight of steps leads up to a set of double doors in the far wall, and a small ladder climbs to a trap door in the ceiling in the nearby corner. Two windows flank a the entrance. A moment after the door opens, there is a quick flare of energy on the floor near the entryway. Though it quickly fades away, it is clear some manner of magical glyphs are set here.
The gnome looks up from his despair; green tears running down his cheek. "Sitting on river barge? Sir, I am a gnomish steersman of Wispil. It is our sworn duty to get our cargo - the finest logs used in constructing the Taldan fleet - to Cassomir. I have been up and down the Sellen River thousands of times. We fight off lizardfolk, river pirates and othes in our journey." He pats his oversized sword. "Just because our vessels are not masted or seaworthy does not mean that I cannot splice a line or climb rigging - I mean, I've practiced on nets I strung up in the trees hundreds of times. I can do it blindfolded! I was meant for the sea." "Sitting on a barge indeed." He pouts again, and his skin becomes a little paler.
An odd looking gnome - which is a stunning statement given the typical outlandish appearances of gnomes - appears to be on the edge of tears. "You don't understand; a sailor! The open ocean, salty seas. I have to have this!" He is amazingly tall for a gnome - 3'7"! Well-muscled - clearly a working gnome. His hair is rather tame for gnome (red - not purple, not green with polkadots - just red). However, that hint of mundanity is well offset by his reddish-purple skin, not to mention the enormously large exotic blade slung over his back. He is dressed in solid looking leather armor with his travel bag slung over his shoulder. "I can quote Admiral Kasaba's Stormy Seas word for word - well, at least the first two paragraphs. I can tie a sheet bend while hanging upside down from the yardarm singing the Lobster's Wife" As you look upon the gnome you can see his skin goes a little pale, and his hair goes a bit whiter - a bit of a salmon color really. The gnome paces up to the bar, purchases a stein as large as his head, and without invitation sits down next to the Professor and proceeds to engage in an awkward combination of crying and drinking. "This is it. The bleaching... I can feel it coming on. This is the end of everything!"
I really feel someone should do an article incorporating triskaidekaphobia - perhaps some sort of special numerically based "unluck" magic. It would be terribly issue appropriate.
Teamwork feats often fall into this category. Yes, highly specific builds that hand out teamwork feat are powerful, but still situational enough to at least qualify as "too complicated". The ones in the APG are particularly bad. You need the feet and you need to be adjacent. The UC feats are better - less of those have adjacency requirements. Of course, as bad guy feats, feats for hyperspecialized unrealistic I-exist-only-to-kill-heros, they are... Still only OK.
My (ex-)wife has a very high bluff modifier. (Oh no I didn't!) I will be traveling (and at a convention) from 11/6/14 to 11/11/14. I will probably actually be able to post more, but who knows :)
"Hmph. Food paste. Sometimes I think these men from the stars were bees - metal hives, now goo for food."
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