The Dude With No Name's page

I get that man, but it could be argued (whether you agree with the validity of the argument or not) however, that by the rules, a lame oracle should not be "slowed" to "staggering around to a 5-foot move as a Full Round Action" when carrying up to double their max load. There doesn't really seem to be a line drawn between encumbrance and weight anywhere that I can find. The text seems to infer that encumbrance means both the weight and restrictiveness of bulky armor that one is wearing. In fact, one could argue that puny lame oracles should be able to move mountains that might be dropped upon them by angry gods. Sure they can't lift these things, but neither can they be slowed by them (assuming the mountain didn't kill them of course).

Again, it's not for me, man. I'm the abiding sort.

RAISE DEAD THREAD!

Okay now let's say that this lame, human (Strength score 7ish) oracle is wearing hideously heavy armor (he's not yet 10th Oracle level, but has access to the feats needed to be proficient in full-plate armor and tower shields). Because he's puny and the full plate and tower shield are crafted of dwarf star alloy they exceed his max load of 70 lbs (perhaps by a little bit (25 lbs), or perhaps by millions of tons per square inch--you decide). What would his speed be now? How about after 10th level when armor's natural restrictiveness is overcome by his curse?

I'm not asking for myself you see, it's for a friend, really.

"Hey man, you gonna get that?"

The Madcap Maelstrom wrote:

dangit, I kind of wanted to fail.

I'm pretty sure you can always choose to fail a check.

"Nice marmot, man." the Dude says of the gnoll.

"Thanks, but I'm gonna need another beer here."

"What did I say?" the strange man looks at the masked man with puzzled look on his face. Then he delves the pockets of the bathrobe he is wearing for a cigar. "Sorry man, sometimes I get these flash-forwards you see. You ever hear of the Seattle Seven? Never mind man. It's not important. Nah, keep it man, the name I mean. It's cool.... though Mod Cape does have a sort of, you know man, 'mode cape' vibe goin' on. And you've got a cape right there, man! It's like that guy with rose darts and nice suit and mask, man. You know the one. It's got style. Say you wouldn't happen to have a light, wouldja man? After-nacho smoke."

"Did somebody say 'high'? You gonna eat those nachos, 'Malestorm' was it? Kinda like a 'Sharknado' right, but made out of guys? That's a classic movie, man. It's sorta the secret backdoor sequel to Jaws II! So are you all part of the Legion of Laughter or something? Say man, you wouldn't mind buying me a beer would you? I'm a little parched because of all of the nachos."

Yeah man, it was real. Well, it was fantasy role-playing, but- you know man.

"Welcome back, Pathfinders! I want to congratulate you all on an amazing job thwarting the Aspis Consortium's operations on Kortos. You have dealt them a massive blow and at the same time prevented a great deal of suffering in the Inner Sea Region by stopping that shipment of drugs. From what I've been told, the Dark Archives will be examining the substance to determine its qualities, but I understand it to be quite awful."

"Um, ahem, I have some experience on the subject if you are looking to hire test subjects, man." The Dude says starting off all professorial before slowly sliding into 'bro'. "I mean I could describe the effects in real time succinctly. Not to brag, but I have a big f%!$ing vocabulary, man. And I can bowl too, if that helps."

"Sic 'em boy! Sic 'em!"

move action - handle Marmot (attack red, while wounded): 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 6 - 2 = 24

The Dude winces and turns to Luthic. "Man, I didn't think Marmot would bite him there, man. I mean once I got this spider bite in about the same spot, it was after this killer concert by the Portals, we got a little crazy and decided to go skinny dipping after the show, and...." He continues on seeming oblivious of the danger.

Bless Each ally gains a +1 morale bonus on attack rolls and on saving throws against fear effects.

"Say man, you wouldn't happen to have a light? Violence makes me nervous, you know?"

Sensing some tension in the air the Dude blesses everyone with his abiding presence. "Hey man, how's it goin'?"

"Anything I can do to help?" He asks actually hoping he doesn't get an answer.

"Cool man. I'll just stand here then."

Will save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

"Did you feel that, man? Like static electricity. You think it might rain today?" He reaches a hand out palm up to test the air outside.

Sensing some tension in the air the Dude blesses everyone with his abiding presence. "Hey man, how's it goin'?"

"Anything I can do to help?" He asks actually hoping he doesn't get an answer.

The Dude doesn't have the time to directly control the dog this round so it continues attacking whomever it had attacked last round. I guess if it was the green one Marmot was attacking he stops and looks around.

"Somebody do something about that cleric."

The Dude scans about for a weapon he might use against the priest. He finds a loose tar shingle, after some consideration he discounts it.

"Hey man! Yeah you man! Just stop man! Just stop and think about it for a minute man. All this hostility, man, it really isn't getting us anywhere."

The Big Marmot's d20 Will save sans modifiers which I don't actually know: 1d20 ⇒ 9

The Dude winces in sympathetic pain as his fellows are lanced with destructive negative energy. "Whoa man. I'm glad I was part of that scene. Those are some seriously bad vibes you're putting out man!"

The closest 'not-us' person. Unless the dog really hates flute music. ;)

"Do you hear flute music?" The Dude moves to the middle of the aisle to see what all the hubbub is.

"Uh oh! Uhh.... Sic 'em Marmot!"

handle dog (attack): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

The Dude remains fascinated by the GM's icon's bowling ball.

"Oh hey man. What's up?" The Dude says stretching and getting up from his make-shift crate bed.

Well that went well - kind of.

"I think our ambush skills are somewhat lacking."

"Huh?"

"Who's a good doggie? Who's a good doggie? Yes you are. Yes you are." The Dude looks up surprised to see strangers in the warehouse. "Oh, hey man. You guys wanna pet the dog?"

diplomacy (aid): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

...And it tastes great, you just have to not spread it like peanut butter.

Hey. Thread allergies, man.

Looking for a pbp lvl 1-5 non core

I might have your game. I'll PM you.

I used to prefer Marmite. And my that I mean New Zealand Marmite, not that revolting stuff the poms call Marmite.

And for the record I do like a nice Marmot.

So terribly sorry folks about this dragging on and on. My wife got sick this week so I had to take care of her and the little man on top of all my normal duties! If you are wanting to play your PCs in different games for Gameday VI, then I can report this game as complete so that way you guys can still play these PCs while we wrap this up!

No worries, I'm pretry sure we've still got a week.

How's everyone doing? You diapered the right side of the little man I hope. ;)

"What's goin' on man?" the Dude asks, scratching his Marmot.

"Hey guys! Look what I found!" The Dude tosses a stick into the hands of one of his companions.

Suddenly, a huge, ferocious, black dog lunges forward. "Grrrr-RWOFF!!"

"I call him Marmot even though he's a dog."

Not wanting to look like he's not working, the Dude wanders the warehouse way from the others and comes upon a huge, vicious guard dog.

"Hey. Nice marmot."

Completely untrained, he attempts to befriend the savage brute, one wild beast to another.

Who's a good doggie?: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

The Dude leans on some boxes, and commiserates with Tyranthraxis about how hard it is to find good help nowadays.

"Hey man, do you smoke? Here take a drag on this man, it'll take the edge off."

Alright so, shove boxes in front of the big southern doors. Make sure the office windows are covered. Booby trap or pull up the ladder; if we pull it up the Dude--I mean all of us can use it as an escape route should we need it. That leaves us the western doors to worry about.

The map you want is the fourth one down. I do not see any spoilers, but let me know if you do see something. Also, what exactly is your plan folks? Which entrances do you wish to block?

I think Ling meant that there was a big gray block on top of the map until just now--a 'spoiler block' so to speak.

The Dude leans upon the dock post and chews on his fingernails.

*Nom nom nom nom.*

The Dude supervises.... Well, not really. He's too busy gnawing on a hangnail.

“I can stay here briefly, if you have questions or need assistance.”

"Nah man, I'm good." Says the Dude, seemingly not having listened to a thing. "Any of you guys ever see that play? Home Alone IV? It's like the sequel to Richard III. Anyway--spoilers--there's this scrappy, little kid you see...."

".... Anyway man, we should do something like that."

No one wants to take a second shower today, huh? The Dude is willing to let it slide though that goes against my natural completionist tendencies.

"Alright. Let see. One, two, three...? Where's Vi- Vii-? Ah, by the time I say her name she'll be dead. Let's go!" By which he means the smoke-filled tavern, and everyone but him.

"Gang way!"

escape artist: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

The Dude moves with amazing poise and alacrity for such a big, avalanche of a man.

Cutting through the noise of the crowd and his own free finger food stupor the Dude hears Ling shouting for his attention from the roof.

"Huh?" He looks up in the general direction of the voice while pointing to himself dully.

"Do you hear that?" He asks the stranger next to him. He sticks his pinky in his ear and works it around.

Shrugging he rises and steps into the path of the woman.

"Excuse me I was just--say, have we met?"

bluff (pick-up line): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16 Diplomacy would be a total of 15.

"Zzzz...*snort* Huh? What? Ling" The Dude pulls his face off the bar. He'd fallen asleep after his last set and bowl of free peanuts. He had thought he heard Ling. He looks around. Doesn't see the man and then sets his head back down.

Sad trombone. :-(

"Hey! Do that again."

playful mwk 12-string (Perform): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

The Dude takes pity upon Lings poor social skills and nearly getting himself thrown out for whatever he just inferred. The Dude summons up whatever guidance he can to do so.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 8 + 1 = 17

Instead he asks: "You going to eat those?"

"'Preparation'? Is that like a salve, or an unguent?"

Once Dude is in position, Luthic discreetly asks the bartender if there is anyone here who is not a regular.

Once the Dude is in a position he likes he rarely leaves it, though he does take a breaks between sets, sidling up to the bar next to the freshest bowl of free nuts.

That sounds suspiciously like work....

The Dude eats all the free peanuts out of a bowl on the bar then puts the bowl on the floor asks one of the party members for a coin or two to "start him off". Puts those coins in the bowl. Takes a moment to meditate for guidance. Pulls out his 12-string guitar and begins to croon.

I'm guessing this could be considered disruptive.

[dice=masterwork 12-string guitar music (guidance)]1d20+8+1[/dice]

My oyster runneth over.

What day is it? Is it near noon? How about lunch at the Overflowing Oyster?

"Yeah man, it's called F&%# You, man. It has its own specialized sign language too. See? You know man, sometimes I don't know why I hang out in the sewers with you two." The Dude sulkily stalks off to the next mission.

Bowling in Antiquity

The earliest known forms of bowling date to ancient Egypt. Remnants of balls used at the time were found among artifacts in ancient Egypt going back to 3200 BC. Balls were made using the husks of grains, covered in material such as leather, and bound with string. Other balls made of porcelain have also been found, indicating that these were rolled along the ground rather than thrown due to their size and weight. Some of these resemble the modern day jack used in target bowl games. Bowling games of different forms are also noted by Herodotus as an invention of the Lydians in Asia Minor.

About 2,000 years ago, in the Roman Empire, a similar game evolved between Roman legionaries entailing the tossing of stone objects as close as possible to other stone objects, which eventually evolved into Italian Bocce, or outdoor bowling.

About 400 AD, bowling began in Germany as a religious ritual to cleanse oneself from sin by rolling a rock into a club (kegel) representing the heathen, causing bowlers to be called keglers.

Like hand-rolled cigars, koff koff, bowling's been around a long time, predating the Middle and Dark Ages (the approximate temporal milieu of most RPG worlds) by millennia. So Golarion could reasonably be assumed to have bowling in some form as well. So grab your kegler shoes and lets go!

"Or bowling?"

"You know man, bowling. It's only been around since the advent of nearly round rocks."

"Who's for bowling?"

"Oo! Oo!" The Dude raises his hand. "Wasn't there a shifty-looking alchemist that got left behind on the docks of Absalom?"

Int check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

"Right." Pulling his pants up higher and cinching them off with thedraw string, the Dude takes the vial and strides toward the addicts with all the resolute authority of a town sheriff. Then he stops suddenly and comes back.

"Which thing was that exactly?" He asks in whisper.

"My master taught me well."

"Don't worry about it man. I was glad to help." The Dude says clasping Ling's shoulders with pride.