The Vagrant Talespinner's page

This didn't really have the response or enthusiasm I was hoping for, so I don't think I'll go forward. Sorry.

Does the no-pets rule apply to familiars? If so I'd go with the Cartomancer variant, most likely.

Yeah, just because it's just one more thing to keep track of. Makes life simpler.

Seems I have enough people interested to settle on some more details.

Ok, I'm gonna go with a max of 6 players. That's always my max, and it allows a decent ensemble cast for the story. Further it allows for drop outs without the need to replace.

Let's call recruitment until June 1st. I usually don't do a long recruitment, but I could use some time to hammer a few details out.

No pets. 6 people are enough to track, so if you have a pet class, take a pet-less variant.

This sounds like a lot of fun. I adore Discworld so this looks great.

I'd love to play an Igor or possibly a Feegle/Gnome. The former would, obviously, be a Vivisectionist Alchemist while I'd look at something like a Hunter or, possibly even better, Wild Child Brawler for the latter.

There being no races close in size to a true Feegle besides the OP-as-PC sprite monster, the Igor is a better choice. You could reflavor any medium sized humanoid for it, but I would recommend hobgoblin, as the con and dex bonus fit them.

No problem. As a witch, I’d need a reason why I came to Ankh-Morpork instead of staying in the Ramtops, and what interactions if any to have with any named witches in Ankh-Morpork.

Since the events of Equal Rites, UU has guest witch lecturers and takes female students, and sends the Ramtops male witches, and so on. It was the big societal change. Either your character could've been in the circle of a witch who came to speak and liked the city enough to stay, or you are a solo witch who can't find a mentor that works the watch to afford to pay to see those guest lectures and learn magic on your own terms, or a witch discovered by the UU sent to apprentice in the Ramtops and recently returning home (Arch chancellor did say to Granny that if they found any students who know her type of magic he would send them that way IIRC) or ...all sorts of stuff.

This is an awesome idea. I think I'd have to throw my hat in the ring as a Witch of some kind. How close interactions would one be allowed/preferred to have with book characters?

"Possible reoccurring guest spot" is about the highest level I would say. So former mentor, sure, but secret bestie or future hubby, no.

I so plan on the intro being a sort of "Police Academy of the Disc" shenanigans, whereupon your characters are being trained...by Fred and Nobby.

I might have to figure out a were-dog using a reskinned Weretouched Wolf Shifter. Kind of like how trolls with skins of brick and cobblestone are showing up in the city, were-dogs are starting to crop up.

Alternately, the Constable Archetype for Cavalier is stupidly appropriate.

Sounds like it follows Disc logic to me.

I'm interested in playing a tourist.

The story? You're a group of fresh recruits to the Ankh-Morpork City Guard.

Foreigner? Sure. New to town and an easy to get well paying job. Agatean like Twoflower even, sure. But not a tourist, implying that you will be returning home.

I'll point out all classes are still available, but a wizard would for example be a recent graduate of OU picking up some seed money to eventually open his own business reading futures in some dink town, and the Watch is a simple path to that...or something like that.

So years ago I made a conversion of rules for PF to work in the Discworld and a campaign to go with it. I never got to use them.

To summarize things briefly, there's little mechanical changes, except that we'd be using E7, and a few story rules for certain classes and races. Like obviously nobody can play an elf, clerics get custom small gods they must spread the word of to get more powerful (or choose a well known pantheon like Offler or Io, but follow rules), wizards need to murder higher ranked wizards to get ranked up (not mechanically but in world) and other fun Pratchett-isms.

Rules? Thinking 25 point buy, races by approval only (trolls will use full orc stats for simplicity sake. Long ago I had a custom race but it was too complicated) and must be cited to exist somewhere in at least one book. Classes are any, including gunslinger, but know some are illegal, some are unheard of, and more. Societal reactions may occur. Two traits. Max GP per class.

The story? You're a group of fresh recruits to the Ankh-Morpork City Guard. It's semi-sandbox but I have an overall plot to work with. You'll run into known NPCs, and the timeline will be roughly ten years after the last published novel. You don't have to be lawful, but you do need a reason to have joined the Watch, even if it's just for the pay and benefits.

No PVP. 1/day minimum posts. You know the usual.

Not sure how long I'll recruit yet. Depends on how popular this idea is.

Guys I know we're not really in that far, but I'm just really lost my interest in PbP. I know I ran a couple in the past that went a while, but it just doesn't do it for me like it used to as an interface. I apologize for having gotten you hyped up for an idea that inevitably petered out, but it got to the point where it felt more like a chore than a game to update, and I just really can't keep going. Sorry again.

Not officially, but I have some holiday stress hurting me creatively.

Mayor Kirkwall scratches his chin at Kromdor's question. "Well, hm..." He disappears into his own room for a while and comes out with a small plain silver bracelet. "This was his mother's. It's nothing special, but he always liked to hold onto it and knows every little detail. Nobody would really steal it. It's only worth a couple gold. So if you tell him I gave this to you, he should believe you"

The party heads along following the trail again, and the wind pulls up blustery again, but not as bad as last night, and a few hours pass before you start to approach a river, nearly, but not-quite-frozen, with the waters pushing icy slush along. The river itself seems to be cut about four feet into the earth, so that there's a fall before the water; almost as if it used to be a shipping canal. The trail heads dead towards a rickety wooden bridge crossing the river, upon which stands a single halfling-sized humanoid, absolutely covered with furs, shivering in the cold, a primitive spear poking out clenched in one fur-covered fist.

He hasn't seemed to notice you. Yet.

Mayor Kriswall seems puzzled at this. "No, ma'am. No, my late wife was a human, same as me." He pauses and thinks a moment. "Oh, but the child playing with him did. A half-elf, to my knowledge. I thought him human at first...but you know, the ears and all are a dead giveaway. He had long hair and a hat covering it up when I saw him, but after they left Julius asked me why Thomas...yes, I believe that was his name...why Thomas had pointy ears."

His eyes widen at her questioning, as the gears start to move. "Oh no. Is there another child missing? That's awful! Oh...oh my...oh by Selune and Lathander's light, oh no...That means he didn't just run off."

Flarghin shakes his head at Kromdor. "He's nobody to worry about. Ain't his weapon." He seems to remain brief on the subject, and brushes it off as you head into speak with Mayor Kriswall.

Kriswall shrugs and repeats his story to Scandy. He didn't wake normally, and in fact was surprised, as his son normally would bound into his room and jump on the bed to wake him up. As a single father they were very close, and he's not sure anything would cause the boy to run away. You're lead into the room, and it seems reasonably normal, though...

Just to move things along, based off your perceptions earlier, etc, gonna assume you all make this with a take 10, especially since you have clues from before

...you definitely notice the latch in the window of the second floor was forced open. It was a decent job of rigging it back up to look repaired, afterwards. As before, there are claw marks at the wall, though the floor outside has been far too covered from foot-travel to indicate much outside. The mayor's house seems to see a good amount of foot-travel. The security is obviously beefed up now, but from description, Mayor Kriswall only kept a couple guards posted at night.

"I'm just a politician. We're not poor, but we're not like a merchant family, and the city's wealth is kept in a secure vault near the mines. I didn't see why anyone would have cause to harm Julius. He's a sweet child, really. Gets along with everyone he meets. Even that quiet boy from the castle, when the Steward came to handle some paperwork about the surplus. I thought it was strange she'd bring a child, but she said he was a page boy who didn't usually play with other children often due to his duties, and when she heard I had a son his age, she brought him. Julius and him must've spent six or seven hours playing knight and barbarian." He pauses, his eyes open. "Oh no. He didn't hurt that child, did he? I told them not to play rough. I swear, my boy isn't seditious, ma'am! Please tell me you didn't take him! Oh, please..." His eyes start welling up with tears, and he's looking rather pitiful now.

Just showing the paper is more diplomatic than intimidating, especially the way it was phrased. Lucky for you it gives you a huge bonus to diplomacy in this particular situation.

The guard Scandy hands the paper to looks over the writ, and he smiles politely. "Just a moment, ma'am. I will go speak with him. If you all could wait here."

The other bounty hunters grumble and complain, and eventually the group of guards gets them to scatter by calling in more men and threatening to have people thrown in stocks.

During this exchange, Flarghin remains silent, glaring at a somewhat short elf with a shaved head among the bounty hunters with a strange weapon at his side most of you are unfamiliar with.

The elf returns the glare the entire time, unflinching, before walking away when the guards disperse the group.

A middle aged man with a moustache of nearly dwarven proportions walks out, and ushers you into his house. His lower floor of his home apparently functions as a makeshift city hall, and he gives a weak smile. "Emissaries of the king, I see. I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I...experienced a loss recently, so you see, I...well I'm not trying to say I am not doing my work, sirs and madams, but, well, you know, grief has it's way. Since Julius went missing, I'm just so flustered, and every bounty hunter wants to ask the same questions, and I don't know how many times I can answer 'I tucked him in, read him a story, I woke up, and the boy was gone with the note in his bed!' Making me relive the entire experience..." He sighs and shakes his head. His shoulders are hunched, and he looks just exhausted, with bags under his eyes. "But you said something about sedition? We're all loyal here. Paid our taxes and everything, even reported the surplus from the mine!"

Thanks for your patience. I didn't get locked up, but things got a bit overwhelming for a while, and I'm back.

Flarghin shrugs and digs in his belt pouch for the coin, and tosses half the amount to her. "Yer in this with us, lass. I've been payin' room, board, and for extra gear. Don't get too greedy on me." He smiles, winks, and laughs. "I'm sure you'll find the rest on the way, if not, give a receipt to that prissy Steward back at the castle."

He strokes his beard and looks at the rest of the group.

"A spellcaster, eh? Well, that makes more than a little sense. And two of them was somethin' I hadna considered. I mean, it's easier to do these kinds of things alone, if ya wanna get in, out, and keep quiet about it. Did a job, not a lethal one, just a quick little bounty, similar in and out style...much easier with a handful of scrolls alone while everyone's sleepin'."

Eventually you all retire to your rooms, and the next day comes. At the suggestion of multiple members of the group, you head towards the Mayor's house, but he has guards posted outside who don't seem to be allowing anyone in at the moment. There are multiple bounty hunters there with posters, trying to get details, but the guards seem to be turning everyone away who "Doesn't have the child with them."

I might not be able to post for a while. I'm not sure how long. I'm going to a crisis center to talk to someone. This has previously resulted in my being inpatient psychiatric lockup'd, which is usually about 72 hours, but can be more or less. This isn't something I actually want. Plastic beds are not comfortable. I know. I've been through that twice before.

Yes, I'm fine, physically. I preemptively appreciate your concern, believe it or not - I know you mean it when you say it. I don't really want to talk about it; I just have some severe long-term psychiatric issues that appear to be getting worse.

I apologize for any delay this has made the game. Yes, I know my health takes priority, etc, but I still do want you to know that it matters to me that I might be holding things up. Should I return without being locked up, I will resume the game swiftly. I have no designs to abandon this game, the forums, or anything like that.

Rius gathers his gear in the general store, wherein inquiries as to a barefoot man walking through town are met with general confusion. "You mean like a halfling? Yeah, we've plenty of those. What do you mean a barefoot human? In this weather? You've got to be kidding."

The shopkeep sells him his rope, clothes, pitons, etc, and just as he's leaving he stops the gnome. "Wait, there was a pair of folks...a woman and a man. The man kept complaining that his clothes didn't feel right. I offered to sell him a new set of boots, but the woman said to pay no mind, and they left. The man picked up some climbing gear, same as you, boy. The woman just seemed to keep an eye on him. Didn't get much of a look at them. The woman...I could tell it was a woman by her voice, you see...she wore a cloak, which I didn't think odd being so damn cold and all, but the man was dressed in light clothes that looked as if they could easily be disrobed. Damn near tear away, you know? Belt covered with more knives and daggers than he had actual clothes on his body. Strange as hell...I wanted to ask if he were okay, but the woman's look seemed to make me think asking questions was a bad idea."

Scandy's investigations into the alchemist's shop prove about as fruitful. Again, it comes to a woman and a man, but this time the alchemist can pointedly identify, "Yep, them two got some spell components. Nothing special, or out of the ordinary - anything I might sell a wizard or two. They bought a few other usual things as well - alchemist's fires, thunderstones, tindertwigs, tanglefoot bags you know...basic adventurer stuff. Can't say as either wasn't wearing shoes when they got in here, but the man sure didn't look comfortable wearing his. Kept itching one foot with the other. Oh....and...ahem..."

The alchemist coughs, nods towards a tip jar that seems half-full, and whistles congenially. There seems to be two bright platinum pieces on the top of the jar. "They were good tippers. And that's all I can remember right now. How well they tipped. It's amazing how well tips can affect one's memory."

When you get back to the inn, Flarghin is in the common room, writing a letter in his slow, deliberate, damn near illegible, but careful handwriting. When he sees you come in, he quickly folds the letter, slides it into an envelope, and slips it into his pocket. "Ain't nobody from out of town hit the inn since last night. Seems whoever it was slipped into town and out without bothering to rest fer the night. I've stabled the animals. Without proper training they're liable to be more of a problem than a help if we go climbin'."

He takes out five small packs and tosses them. "Full set of climbing gear for each of ya. Just in case. Got a potion of Endure Elements while I was at it. Only could afford one for each of us, though, so save it for when ya really need it." He pulls his hip flask and swigs at it until it's empty, then tosses it to the barkeep to fill up, along with a few silver.

"What'd you find out?"

Anyone else who went looking for information basic DC 10 diplomacy or knowledge local finds out that the mayor's son has gone missing just last night. He's a boy about the prince's age. There's wanted posters everywhere, but unlike a prince, the son of a mayor seems to only fetch a bounty of about 500gp, and there is no body left behind - simply a note that reads "Come Find Me - I know you're looking". This information plastered all over town, half of the town has already headed to the Vaasa gate, assuming the boy went fleeing into the dangerous frontier.

The group moves on to Bloodstone Village, a larger town than its name would suggest. Often a stopping point for adventurers crossing the double-gates into the Vaasa, Bloodstone Village has adequate supplies available, and a handful of decent inns.

You're able to stock up on any mundane gear you might need, and can take your time gathering information if you should so desire. You have just enough time before the sun sets to do one or the other before the shops close, per character. This is because you'll have to stop among multiple stores to find what you need, and traverse the bars and other gathering points to find your quarry, as the village itself has far too much foot traffic to determine exactly where he went in town.

Flarghin again has paid for your stay at the local inn, and has decided to pay to have the mounts and pack mules stabled while you are gone, since it appears mountain travel is in your near future.

You all knew you'd be starting in Damara. I even said "the cold lands" - figured that would give you a hint.

Rule of Two-ing to get us back to moving

Cassius, Rius, Scandy and Kromdor manage to cover their tracks, closing the hidden tunnel and re-lighting the fire behind them. Eventually, despite a bit of disagreement, they make it down to Flarghin and Lavinia. The halfling woman points out the details of the tracks, exemplifying slight unnatural bends in the nearby branches, barely noticable footsteps that an untrained eye would glaze over, and more.

The tracks lead away from the city, and generally towards the west , towards the Bloodstone Pass between Vaasa and Damara. You continue following the tracks through the bitter cold as the sun rises above you, the wind whipping at your face as a chill moves down from the north.

8 progressive Fortitude saves as the weather is about 20 degrees Fahrenheit - DC 15, 16, 17, etc., as per the Cold-Weather Environment rules

Hours pass, and you trudge on, before the tracks bend off the trail towards the mountains just before reaching Bloodstone Village. The sun is beginning to set, and the town is roughly an hour's travel west yet...meanwhile the tracks move onward to the northwest now. Again, strangely enough, Lavinia finds these tracks surprisingly easier to follow on the main roads, as you're looking at bare feet - not halfling, but human-sized and shaped by her guess.

Lavinia Tracking: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (13) + 15 = 28 +2 from Flarghin helping

She's sure that the tracks have gone into the village at least at some point for whatever reason, but that they doubled back to this point and headed northwest afterwards into the mountains. It's possible you may gain on your quarry if you continue north, cutting out a portion of his or her journey, but the cold looks to grow worse with the falling sun, and you might garner information about your target in the town.

Flarghin pulls a flask from his hip, lowers his scarf of his parka from his mouth and takes a swig, offering a mouthful to any of the party who wants some. "This is an elusive bastard, ain't it?" He mutters. He pulls out a journal and begins taking notes in it, trying to map out your journey thus far on some of the pages. "Well, looks we've got two options here, folks. Town, or the mountains?"

By all means gather up wherever you're meeting and discuss your next move. I got distracted by Thanksgiving and my Friday game, so I'll be out until...probably tomorrow afternoon. You have a trail, a mystery tunnel, and a few clues. The only consensus I see seems to meet up and share your information.

Scandy's magical enhancements help to illuminate each of the cobbles that is a trigger - the distinction is slight, but the trigger cobbles rest a bit higher than the rest. Following the gearing mechanism, she manages to point out where Kromdor can jam his hammer, preventing it's movement.

As the two head through the tunnels down to the main area, you come to a crossroads at the base of the castle. In soft white chalk, at about a halfling or human child's height, an arrow points to the right and has "BROTHER ROOM" written in large letters - the path you came from seems to be labeled "BACK TO ROOM", while the leftern tunnel seems to branch into further pathways - and the only label on this tunnel left seems to say "NO".

The guard contorts his face in disgust at Scandy's comment, and spits on the ground. "F&&$ you, b#!%@. We told the damn king, and he said not to worry about it. And you know what? I think he's calling us. Don't you?"

The other guard nods, looks at the orc, and shrugs. "Maybe you should keep your 'thinky' b!!~# in check, then? Or are you just her big meaty lover puppet to pull on strings and calm the 'simple' folk? Yep. Definitely the king calling us, and telling us to leave your annoying ungrateful asses alone."

They head down the tower stairs after slamming the door shut in your face.

The minute Lavinia opens the window you can feel the cold breeze of the morning air. It's looking to be an even more brisk day than you previously supposed. When she climbs out of the window, instantly the alarm starts going off wildly. The guards, at this point, however, don't seem to be heeding the call, and you suppose the two annoyed with the party have told the others not to bother at this juncture. Eventually one of you shouts the password, as Lavinia seems focused on her work.

She notices two things...one, that the marks in the stone appear to be not of any tool she's ever seen. Almost clawlike. Two, she sees a confusion of footsteps at the bottom of the tower's outside in the snow. It seems like a battle, or a dance, or...something...was going on, and a single set of human footprints, barely perceptible leads off to the north.

Flarghin rounds the corner of the wall and proceeds to laugh heartily at the sight of Lavinia, and then smiles widely and assists her tracking, comparing notes. "Damnit girl, I told ye when I met ye that ye had a gift, dinnae? Now I can track a rat through a forest in a wind storm, but Lavie m'girl, I'm pretty sure ya could follow a mouse through a sewer in a s*@* storm!"

Scandy's exploration into the tunnel through the illusion leads to a squat, stone-lined chamber that seems to spiral down below the stairs of the tower. Oddly enough, unlike when Lavinia exited the window, entering the tunnel did not appear to trigger the alarm.

Scandy's Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18
Scandy's Fortitude: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Her foot appears to step on just the wrong block as she's walking, however, and a vent opens above her, releasing a white gas. It seems a pleasant, cloying scent, and she is suddenly reminded of just how tired she is. Fatigued for 1 hour

BTW Creed, fix your skills. Disable Device is NOT based off of Strength. Don't forget your trapfinding bonuses when you do use it for that, though.

Kromdor discovers that the fire is, in fact, very hot. It is, in fact, quite warm in the cold, lonely tower.

One of the guards scratches his chin thoughtfully at Kromdor's question. "Not often, to be honest, though he often would pretend to be sleepy. Usually he tried to sneak over to his brother's room, and play with the baby most nights. You should see how Master Byron would fuss over Master Clement. He absolutely loves..." He pauses, clears his throat, and corrects himself with a sadness in his voice. "Loved that baby. Not quite sure how he did it. Since that child was born, Master Byron must've snuck out of his room and into the baby's...half a dozen times or so! I swear, that child's got some kind of blessing from the gods or some such...or he did...well.." He pauses again and frowns. "Or so we thought. So we were used to him pretending to go to bed early."

In response to Kromdor, before the door is shut on them, the more talkative of the two guards shrugs. "Must've been a damn phantasm or something. It sure didn't get through the front door, whatever it was. I bet it's one of the Witch King's servants, jealous that King Gareth wiped the floor with his master!"

The second guard hushes him, and shakes his head. "You've got us, buddy. I remember our shift had just started, so you know, we hadn't gotten...talkative or bored." He shrugs. The orc seemed a fellow warrior, and guard duty was a tedious job for most.

When the door is shut and you begin your investigations, Lavinia notices the barely perceptible footprints, and begins to follow them. They lead to the barred window, and when you throw them open, her keen eyes look down the walls given her passive perception, and the fact she's found this far, I'm going to not bother with a roll here. There's no real climbing implements, like pitons, in the wall itself, but she can notice holes dug into the very stone of the tower's outside. Too much snow has fallen to see prints on the floor outside, especially from the top of the tower - and she can notice the sun is beginning to rise outside.

Flarghin listens to Rius and Scandy's explanations and theories, and begins to scratch his beard thoughtfully. "That'd explain why she's in all a huff to keep this quiet. King Gareth doesn't seem one to worry about people finding out too much. He's a warrior, not a politician. But an angry queen is nothing to cross. Hm...this job seems a bit bigger from the inside than it did the outside."

When Lavinia explains her findings, Flarghin nods. "Maybe we'll find something to follow closer to the ground...and get a good look at what them holes ye found are, girl." He nods, and heads out the door to find the tower's base outside the castle walls. You may investigate further in this room, or follow him.

Lady Quiren narrows her eyes pointedly at Scandalous's statement, gathering the information the young woman has bridged.

"Your swiftness in action is an attempt to help prevent any uncoverings that may happen from coming to light of the general public. It is the crown's wish that primarily the boy's assaultant come to light and justice, secondarily the reasons for this attempt and any plans related to said attempt are communicated to the crown, and tertiarily, that either of these facts or any subsequent information garnered in result to the investigation remain private between yourself and the crown, or in this case, his agent thereof."

She rolls her eyes and dumbs things down a bit at the sight of the orc and some of the others not keeping up with her phrasing.

"In other words, catch the killer, find out the why of it, and for Corellon's sake, shut your damn mouth about anything you find out to anyone but your employer. Do I make myself clear?"

Flarghin steps in and starts pushing scandy away, with an arm gathering the others. "Crystal, m'lady, crystal."

A pair of guards start leading them upstairs towards the northeast tower, while Flarghin grins at Scandy's getting the Steward riled up. "Not sure what bee ya let fly in her bonnet, lass, but I'm pretty sure he flew up and hit up her backside by the way she reacted." One of the guards just snickers at this, before the other shoves him back to proper decorum.

The key unlocks the room, and immediately you can hear the cacophony of sound as the alarm spell goes off. One guard mutters "Peanut butter" and the spell ends. You can see a well decorated room fit for a young man of about age 8. There's a large, four-poster canopy bed, a training dummy with mock weapons for learning, a closet full of armor sized for a child, some formal, some for training his body to be a warrior as an adult, a full-sized mirror, and a box with enough toy knights, dragons, warriors, and other militia to cover the entire floor with full-scale battles. There is no sign of a struggle. The body lies in the bed, seemingly placed there post-mortem, and as stated is missing it's head. There's a single window, but it seems barred from the inside with a strong set of oak shutters. A fireplace gently crackles giving an oddly peaceful scene.

The following get a +5 bonus if you passed any of Filuria's Sense Motive rolls or if such news was shared with your character.

Dont stress too much man, good luck with the interviews!

I just wanted to thank you guys for giving me the chance to play, I'm really enjoying this so far. I'm having a little bit of trouble keeping pace with the conversation in game, I'm still trying to figure out how to frame my responses appropriately. I love everyone's characters so far though, I think this is going to be great.

I've been there. Someone's got to give a first shot so people have experience that GMs can use to evaluate them for future gane attempts, so I make it a point to try and let at least one newbie in any game I'm running. I remember it was many failed attempts at getting in a PbP before I got in one...

Wednesday we may do a bonus live game. If so I'll give you one mega post the next day to make up for it.

The elven woman raises an eyebrow at Rius and furrows her expression at his comment. "Her highness is away in Corymyr, attending to duties of state. I am the Steward of the castle, Filuria Quiren. Please do not make the error again in her presence. She tends to..."

She returns to her paperwork, before looking up at further comments from the party. Scandalous and Kromdor's words seem to shock her. "You know, when I saw you brought an orc into the throne room, I thought you common mercenaries, but this one speaks with more intricacy than grunts and points, and you take time to research before rushing in blindly. Hmph."

She takes her paperwork, puts it to the side, and only now seems to be giving you more than half of her attention. "Very well. The guards were all questioned under a Zone of Truth spell. The Prince requested to go to bed early. He seemed to be tired, but it was only an hour earlier than his usual bedtime. His room has an alarm spell, of which the code word changes weekly with guard changes, chosen by Byron, which he tells the king and queen of immediately, as well as myself. None other than his week's personal guard are otherwise informed of the passcode. It was roughly half an hour later that the guards heard the alarm spell go off - they, and most of the guards within the surrounding area immediately roused to the boy's room. His body was found. He..."

She pauses, and wipes a tear from her eye, holding her stoicism. "...the child was missing his head for Corellon's sake! We've torn the room apart and simply cannot find it, and we assume the assassin took it as some sort of morbid proof of his work to whomever hired him. Which, honestly, when you're talking the eldest son of the king, could be anyone. Bloodstone Kingdom (I forgot THAT is the united name of Vaasa/Damara - the Cold lands also includes two neighboring countries) has no official enemies of yet - to be honest, our relations with neighbors are cordial at worst, pledged alliances in some cases. King Gareth is a very charismatic leader, and the Queen...Well, the queen has been working non-stop to establish diplomatic ties to every nation she can."

"The castle chaplain has had no success in bringing the child back. He's the most powerful priest in the city, but we've sent to Sossal, of whom we're in the process of cementing a strong alliance to bring them into the United Cold Lands with us, the Bloodstone Lands, for one of their more powerful shamans to assist us. Unfortunately, the route is not without danger, and so they are sending a retinue - which, sadly, slows down progress." Filura sighs.

"Now have you any further questions? Or can I count on you to get swiftly to work to catch this ruffian? I am going to have to make the bounty more public to get more avenues to catch our subject soon - the longer the trail goes cold, the more desperate we need to get, though as I said - I would be grateful if you returned without the general public aware of the situation."

Rius and Scandalous, taking turns looking over the paperwork, and occasionally helping each other with the translations, manage to figure out that the bounty offers an outlined team, of no more than six members, power of executing immediate justice, i.e. death, upon just cause as defined by the group itself. Essentially, you're legally allowed to kill your target, and you only need to prove yourself after the fact. If you are found to be abusing your power, it's stated that the crown will deal with you "accordingly" - with no further explanation.

This extends through Damara and Vaasa, and the language seems to indicate that other nations might honor it for pursuit of your subject into their lands. One thing their intense research discovered - It seems to require a dating upon signature, as the deed is only good for three months - something Flarghin seemed to miss.

Upon having this corrected for him, the dwarf dates his signature, and assuming the rest of you do the same, the night passes uneventfully. Unfortunately short of a complete rest, nothing bad enough to mess with your stats you feel robbed as the older dwarf rouses you from bed one at a time.

It isn't long before you're lead to the castle, where after reading your paperwork, two guards escort you through the hallways. The presence of guards seems greater than usual, and you notice almost every door has two guards posted, in addition to those traveling the halls. Apparently, the news may not have reached the surrounding town, but the castle itself has reacted to the loss.

The grand reception hall is impressive, to be sure, but the castle itself was clearly built as a fortress first, and a center of adornment a distant second. There are two thrones, the larger of the two center-forth, clearly for the king, a smaller, less decorated throne for the queen at the king's right hand.

Both thrones sit vacant. A comfortable, functionally impressive, and ultimately plain wooden chair sits to the left hand of the king's throne, and in it an elven woman. Her hair is short, white, functionally cut but still feminine, and her outfit a robe, plain white in color, but clearly magic to the eyes of anyone bold enough to cast a spell in front of the Steward of The Cold Lands. Her eyes are a sky blue, and she looks up from some paperwork being handed to her, clearly annoyed, and sighs. "And you are...?"

Flarghin coughs, bows, and gives a smile. "Ma'am, I'm Ironstone. Your nephew an' I..."

"Oh. Yes." She pauses. "The child. A tragedy. One I don't want the people hearing about. If we can get all of this settled, as soon as possible, that would be best. Heirs...and all..."

"...King Dragonsbane is a new king, and we can't have this kind of tragedy being written into the history books before he's had a chance to show the world whom he is." He stands up, and pulls a small key out of her robes, and offers it out to any from the group who will take it. "This will take you to the boy's room. It's at the top of the northwest tower. A guard will escort you, should you need assistance."

Unfortunately, Scandy knows little about the king's steward other than that she is an elven woman, and known to have little patience - surprisingly uncommon for her kind.

The rest of the group continues on their meals, as Flarghin sets out to his stable to prepare the horses for the ride ahead. Maggie runs up stairs and comes down with a backpack for her husband, and the rest of his gear, including a belt with the dwarf's infamous throwing hammers. Including proper donning of armor, and Maggie's goodbyes to her husband, the lot of you have an hour to prepare anything you need.

The ride to Heliopolas is only a few hours, and though the weather is getting quite cold, the wagon blocks most of the wind as your stout dwarven friend takes the reins. It's not long before you make it to town, and Flarghin stops the wagon. "Alright, our appointment's in the mornin' ta see the body. I'll go get the horses and wagon stabled up, and rooms at the inn while I'm at it. You lot figure out what the plan is." He takes out a waterproof tube, and very carefully unravels a piece of paper. You see it's the bounty, along with the appointment for tomorrow morning, one hour before sunrise - about six hours from now. [b]"That's a writ of bounty. Need yer names on it, and we're proper legal investigators in the Cold Lands and...other stuff."

Requires a linguistics roll to decipher legalese.

Eventually Flarghin takes you to a local inn, the Fair Inne True, and begins negotiating price with the innkeeper, another dwarf, this one with a shock of black hair and beard. Eventually, looking smug, Flarghin reaches into his backpack, takes out a small bag of coins, and announces to the party that they each have private rooms - albeit small ones.

Two job interviews today. Posting will be slow. I'll still get one in at least, but you've seen I like to average more.

Flarghin nods at the others, but stiffens up when Scandy mentions his family. "My eldest, Bank, is out...on an errand...and due to return soon enough. That damn fool is good for little, but he wouldn't let a fly hurt his brothers and sisters. And we shant be talkin' more of that subject." He slams his tankard on the table with a loud thud, shaking the sturdy oak, and fierce eyes challenge any other of the group to change his mind on the subject.

"It's a bit late to catch a carriage out of town, but I suppose if one of you knew the area well enough knowledge local or diplomacy to go out and gather information you might find someone leaving last minute. If not, I've got a couple horses and a covered wagon we can take to Helioglabus. It's not more than a few hours ride by daylight; can't imagine it would be more by night. I ain't never been one to run no dictatorship, you all know that. What say you to how we head to the castle?

To keep things progressing I use Rule of 2 - first two people to reply with the same answer, I assume the others follow. It makes PbP flow faster. If the first two disagree, it's obviously the first person to have someone else back up their opinion.

Rius knows that Byron is the oldest male child of Gareth Dragonsbane, a paladin who cleared the Vaasa of the Witch King and united Damara and Vassa under the banner of The Cold Lands. Gareth's an extremely popular ruler. Gareth has but one other heir of yet, a newborn son named Clement. Very few people know Byron was born before Gareth was crowned king, and whom his mother is remains a mystery to most. Clement is not yet a year old, and many nobles were present for his birth.

Gareth had yet to officially name his successor.

Flarghin nods to Scandy's questioning. "Sharp as a rapier, girl. That's why I arranged fer us to see the body. Mayhaps Lavie can pick up the tracks, n' you smarties can figure the why as to it all. I spend so much time on the road, politics at home ain't m'strong suit. Hope'fly the Steward kin answer yer questions. Careful with her. She ain't exactly mean, but she's a sour one and wit' no time fer foolishness."

He glances at the empty seat at that statement and lets out an audible grunt.

Maggie smiles at Scandy and starts to dole out food for everyone, whispering to Flarghin in dwarven.

The children, save the three babies who were already fed, dig into the meal like ravenous beasts, getting nearly as much ON them as IN them. Eventually Maggie gathers them all up, but not before a few try to get attention from the adults...but Maggie's wooden spoon terrorizes them mote than any potential curiousity, and soon she and the children are upstairs, and you can hear them being read a story in Dwarven.

Once Lavinia and Rius have entered the room, he nods at them. "Don't mind Lavinia, folks. She's a woman of few words - but she can track and hunt better than me in my prime."

Flarghin stands from his chair, and waves an arm, gesturing at his home. "Friends, you know me. You know I've done well for myself over the years. I've a nice home, a beautiful wife, and enough children, both of blood and of law, to carry on the Ironstone name for a long, long time. Money isn't a problem, but...well..."

He pauses, and strokes his beard, and leans back against the wall. "Well, money passes, and sure, what I've kept will keep one or two of the kids set for life - or the lot of them until they're adults, but friends, this bounty....the prize..." he steps forward, and reaches out a hand into the air, like he's grasping for some intangible subject. "You see...Byron Dragonsbane, son of Gareth, our king, and heir to the throne of both Damara and the Vaasa...has been slain!"

He pauses yet again to let this sink in. "I told you it was only by luck, circumstance, and my reputation that I was able to get the rights to hunt down the criminal that killed the poor boy, as the throne is trying to keep it quiet, and frankly, figure out if it was political or not. They don't want to amass suspicion by sending an army out after the assassin, but the day after tomorrow it becomes open season, as the bounty goes public. My friends, the head of the culprit - to be verified via speaking with dead magics, of course - brings with it the title of Baron in some unclaimed land in the Vaasa just outside of Palischuck. Since the Witch King was defeated, there's just tons of it for the taking out there, and you can bet the king is using that as a carrot to motivate catching the fiend what killed his oldest son. Baron, folks! Me! But don't think I've left you out, you see...it's a knighthood for any I bring with me, and a purse of 100,000 gold to divide among our crew! King Gareth is very motivated, but stuck in that damn throne 'cause politics. You can keep yourselves the money - as I said, I'm well off enough, but land, and peasants working that land - that will set my family up for generations to come."

The excitement has worked the dwarf up, and he's now pacing the den, wringing his fingers together. "We have an appointment, an hour before sunrise to examine the boy's room and the body, and hopefully start tracking the fiend down right then. So, what do the lot of you think?"

It's at this moment that Maggie chooses to start glazing the meat with the stew, and then spooning the leftovers into the bowls, as Flarghin awaits the team's response. She calls the boys back from upstairs and has them and the girls set the long table while Flarghin awaits their response.

Flarghin hugs Scandy back, but sours up his face when she gives him kisses on the face, muttering something about not getting Maggie jealous.

"Me, jealous of that skinny little thing? Shut yer trap, ye daft old dwarf, if'n I didn't have one in me already you'd be haltin' yer little adventure to put in ten more." She chuckles and pats Scanalous's shoulder to show there's no animosity to her.

When she comes back and sees the orc chopping vegetables, she furrows her brow. "Ye best not be puttin' those in too early, or they'll turn to mush. This ain't no campfire slop! Hm..." Eyeing the orc's deft chopping she shrugs, puts the dwarf girl in a high chair and goes back to feeding the baby goblins along with her birth child.

Flarghin pulls his last chair by the fire and sits down, carefully, showing his age just a bit as he eases down. "Well, now we just have to hope that Lavinia and Rius aren't up to their armpits in snow or something. Soon as they arrive, I'll tell you the whole of the situation. But I need you to know, what information I've got here...it ain't common knowledge, see? I done a favor fer a guard in the palace, helped him find his boy when he done wandered off a bit too far near The Vaasa...ain't much, tracked him down, took down an ogre with the guard, what was gonna have the boy for a snack. Well he was just a young spit of a kid, I weren't gonna take money for helpin' save no boy whose father was just a boy himself, you know?" He sighs and smiles a bit at the memory.

"So wouldn't you know, something big happens at the palace. I mean big, right? I gets a messenger here, real private like. An audience with the Steward herself! Ain't that somethin'? I done a few jobs in my life but ain't had no audience with a steward. Apparently that guard was her nephew, and that boy, well, you get the picture. So knowin' I'm a bounty hunter, I get a three day head start on a major bounty, folks. M-A-G-E-R." he spells out crudely and obviously incorrectly...as Maggie facepalms and shakes her head.

Flarghin starts twisting the hem of his tunic, looking at the front door. "I wanna wait for the last of this crew. Them two's useful as any of the lot of you. An' I know yer a sharp lot. I worked with each of you. I know great things is comin' from ya. I can see it. N' I don't wanna explain it again..."

The wind blows cold outside the windows and he chews the bottom of his lip. "Just hopin' them two arrive safe," he mutters, awaiting the rest of his team to explain the entirety of the situation.

He looks at Kromdor and a twinkle appears in his eye. "Uproot? Boy, if this works out for us, I expect it will turn the whole damn plant upside down."

Flarghin takes the offered tankard and nods, a little more stern and a little less relaxed than usual. "Five letters did I send, my boy. Five friends I expect tonight, before the light steals away for the night." He gulps a mouthful and wipes the foam from his beard.

"Ah. Been savin' that keg fer a special night. She's from Citadel Felbar, 'afore that damn Many-Arrows drove m'kin away and ruined the ale comin' out of there. Obould may have civ'lized them tribal bastards, but it don't mean they can make a decent drink. An' a special night this is, boy."

In the background the three boys continue to play fight, until one of the two dwarves climbs a barstool, leaping from it with his wooden axe in both hands, screaming like a wild barbarian...before the barstool clatters back and he lands face first on the wooden floor, five feet short of striking his brother. The orc boy laughs hysterically at this scene, and Maggie leaves her food in play and grabs each of the to dwarf boys by their ear and starts leading them upstairs, swearing at them in Dwarven. The orc just follows morosely, muttering in dwarven as well.

Flarghin shakes his head and smiles a bit. "Hmph, boys. Frankly, I'm surprised he didn't try from the top of the bar itself. Now, where are the rest of them?"

It would certainly make life easier for all of us when it comes to combat. AC, Touch, Flat Foot, your 3 Saves, HP...hell, sometimes I throw skills in a spoiler below that, just because when you need to know a roll to dice out, it saves you from opening a new window.

Also, for your own sanity, copy the entire of your posts before you hit submit. Paizo gives that "you backtracked too far" b$$##!@@ message far too much when you forget to do that, and you end up wanting to tear your hair out.

And yeah the opening is huge. Don't worry. I was setting a tone. I don't plan on remaining so long winded. I just feel a GMs first post really matters...really sets the stage as it were.

Seems good so far. I encourage Lavinia and Castor as the other non-casters to use those shortcuts as well. The game is meant for you all to get pretty powerful.

The gameplay tab is open. You all might note when you read the opening post, Flarghin has a place in his heart for orphans. It was a factor in choosing many of your characters - Rius, Scandalous, and Cassius fell into that category. Kromdor and Lavinia are up in the air, but the idea I figured was if for no other reason you can appreciate each other for Flarghin acting like a surrogate father in many ways.

He doesn't judge race in individuals, but might as a group. Like if ambushed by orcs, he would say "f++&ing orcs" in front of Kromdor, but he'd then look at Kromdor and be like "I meant real orcs. Bastards. Not you. You're Kromdor, not a f*#$ing orc." This will be abundantly clear when you all enter his house and meet his family.

Anyway you're welcome to post in the main thread folks. Let me know if you have questions here.

I would say Nethys's obedience works for her but with two caveats:

1) Alignment requirements obviously change to within one of her, rather than him. As a result you can't choose a sacred or profane bonus - it's only sacred.

2) The effects are reflavored as minor spellfire. So the eyeball is a white ball of fire, and your eyes would turn into sockets filled with white-blue fire while the ability takes full effect. Cause Mystra.

HP is max for 1st level, 1/2+1+ConMod for level after.

So a 10 con barbarian gets 12HP for level 1, 7HP per level after.
a d10 with no con mod 10HP and then 6 after
d8 gets 8 and then 5 after
and d6, 6 and then 4 after.

Sorry guys - there just wasn't enough interest drummed up for this game. I liked the idea, but it seems it wasn't popular. I'm going to cancel this for now. Maybe I'll try it again in the future.

This was a tough decision. Making decisions for games always is. I mean, it's not like there were particularly bad submissions at any point, you know?

I WAS going to stick to four players to start, but damnit, it's hard to keep to that, so I let a fifth squeeze in. I apologize if you didn't make it, and if someone drops, or if we get going a bit and feel like we can handle more players, I will probably re-open recruitment (with anyone who applied initially here getting preferential treatment). My initial choices:

Lavinia Snowbeard (goodwicki)
Cassius (Spardan)
Scandy (cucumbertree)
Rius Rainwater (Nathaniel Love)
Kromdor Rainhands (Zorblag)

If I didn't choose you, it's not that your idea was bad. I tried to go with what I thought would be a nice, cohesive mesh of a group for a good story-telling, with a mix of PbP experience, and a reasonably balanced party. Group selection is an art more than a science. There's at least two other players I almost squeezed in, but I'm not doing a 6 or 7 player group - I'd end up torturing myself.

Remember, please have a completely finished character sheet by tomorrow if you don't already. Posting officially starts Monday, but if you're ready before then, you can start RP and such earlier.

The discussion page is up!

Players who are chosen can feel free to dot in here, discuss backstories with one another, and if you're ready to go, by all means start RP in the Gameplay thread (which is open, and has an initial description post in it) whenever you're ready. We don't officially start until Monday, so I won't hold anyone to it if they're not in before then, but if you want to get a head start with the talky talk, help yourself.

Trailsend isn't quite like you expected it to be, but it does live up to its reputation: the advertisements for adventurers on every tavern wall, the booming marketplace, and the crowds bustling through the main thoroughfares are far more indicative of a larger city than this. It took you some time to find it, but you're almost certain you arrived at your destination. The house before you certainly matches the address in the letter you were sent.

You still have it on your person, and whether or not you choose to re-read it, it says exactly the same thing it did when the exhausted courier pressed it into your hands a couple of days ago. The handwriting is small and precise, written by a person clearly taking their time to carefully form the letters, as if they were not used to or comfortable with the written word. The ink is smudged, showing signs of a letter folded before it had sufficient time to dry, but you recognized the wax seal on the outside as matching the symbol of the signatory:

"My friend,
I write with an opurtinty opertoontie chance of a lifetime that just reached my ears today. A bounty has been placed with payout I haven't seen in all my years! The prize and job I will share when I meet you, for fear some other reads this letter than intinted I want. Meet me at my home in Trailsend. I will leave direkshuns derektuns the way there on the back. Time is of the essence! I paid great expense for eckscluseve to be the only one allowed to know of this hunt for three days, so I need to see you by the day after you read this letter, at the latest! Also, the trail may grow cold with time. Do hurry!
Flarghin Ironstone"

The home is not modest, but not overtly extravagant; a stout building of brick and mortar, two stories, with a large den from the look of it. You can see smoke billowing from the chimney, and the smell of hot venison is perceptible from the front door, as is that of footsteps running around inside. The building is shut up tight from the cold air that blows around you, it's solid oak shutters and door held tight. It's the tail end of fall, and in the Cold Lands of Damara, that might as well be the dead of winter for the rest of Faerun. The sun is still up in the sky, but it's surely on the decline, as the blues turn to purples and Selune begins her rise. The moon's thin crescent seems unusually bright and white, as if it's fighting with the sun for it's chance in the twilight sky.

When you knock on the door, you hear a call from inside, a voice that sounds like a child. "Maaammaaaa, summun's at the door again!" It sounds like a little girl, but with the windows boarded up, it's impossible to tell. It's a little more than a couple minutes before a hatch in the door slides open at about chest level for a human, and a pair of eyes peeks out briefly.

"Oh, it's you," a woman's voice exclaims, before the hatch slides shut, and the door opens. A young dwarven woman stands before you, and ushers you in, before shutting the door behind you. "Quickly, quickly, in in! You'll let all the heat out!". Her waddling stride and overtly swollen belly show she's clearly in the last stages of pregnancy, and she leads you into the den. You haven't met her before, but Flarghin did say he'd married some local girl a couple years back; you recall her name being Maggie. "Flarghin is in the den. I'm almost done with dinner. I hope you like venison with vegetable soup. If you don't, you can eat your hat for all I care. Watch out for the children on the way in there."

You pass by several kids on your way into the room. Two dwarven boys, seemingly around nine or ten years of age, swat at each other with toy axes, while a girl in diapers, you presume a dwarf as well, crawls across the stone floor. The others, however, are not dwarves. They are very clearly not dwarves. An orc boy, looking around seven, holds a toy spear and cheers on one of the two dwarven boys, while an elven girl braids the hair of a half-elven girl, both looking what on a human would be about twelve. Strangest of all, two goblin babies of indeterminate sex are sat in high chairs in the dining room being fed spoon-fulls of gruel by Maggie between rounds of adding ingredients to the soup and stirring the concoction.

You'd heard rumors that Flarghin had taken on a child or two when he'd found orphans on his adventures, but this...is a bit more than you'd expected.

As you make your way into the den, you find several wooden chairs in a semicircle facing the fire, with the old dwarf standing with his back to them. The years have been kind to him, though much of of his fiery red hair has turned white, and his beard has nearly none of its original color left. Still, judging by the happy step and swell in Maggie's belly, time had not stolen all of the male dwarf's vigor. Flarghin seems to be staring into the fire in the nearby fireplace, lost in thought, and your entry causes only a brief lapse in his attention. "Hmm? Yes...oh, good to see you. Yes...I'll...I'll begin when the others are here," he mutters distractedly.

Maggie is back at work in the kitchen, pouring miscellaneous gravy over what appears to be an entire deer roasting in yet another fire-pit, this one designed for cooking rather than the warmth the den provides. The smell is absolutely intoxicating. The dwarf woman smiles broadly and nods to the bar. "Help yourself to a pint or two..." She pauses as the two dwarf boys and the orc perk up and get excited. "...NO, not you three! You mind yourselves, Vault and Coin...set an example for your brother, Platinum." The two dwarf boys look absolutely morose, and the orc, slightly younger than the other two, looks at their reaction and copies it with great exaggeration. The girls braiding hair giggle to themselves, until Maggie shushes them.

I'm up. Aw man I linked the wrong gameplay to this. Holy shut I must've been out of it. Will fix. Recruitment is closed for now. I'll have decisions tonight, tomorrow at the latest. Thanks for all the great submissions.

Ugh. I was up until 4am playing a live game. I'm so f$%$ing tired.

You guys have more hours. 'cause I'm going back to sleep.

I am old school with paladins. They're, in my opinion, mechanically superior (in Pathfinder) to so many martial classes - and that's with a reason - they're harder to RP. Warpriest and Inquisitor both fill the role adequately otherwise.