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Hello everyone! It’s been a while since I’ve gotten the urge to start a new campaign on the boards here—and this time around, I opted to pick an Adventure Path that isn’t nearly as popular as the others Paizo has released. I’m committed to completing at least the first book, and if the pace is good and our party comes together well, I hope to see the whole thing through to the end (which, considering it caps at level 13, should at least be easier on me). To that end, here are the following pieces of information you will need to create a character for this: Generation: 25 point buy
I’m hoping to recruit up to 5 players for this. Recruitment ends July 21st, 2023. 
Hello everyone! I’ve mostly been away from the boards in a GMing capacity, but I’m interested in running at least the first book of Council of Thieves. That being said, it won’t be run as written in the books—I’m planning on changing a few things about the story to try and strengthen what I see as weak points in the AP’s narrative (with all due respect to Sean K Reynolds, while it might be a decent idea to get the obligatory sewer level out of the way early, there was always the option of not having one to begin with). I think I will be running it under PF1E rules. Would anyone be interested in something like this? 
The discussion thread is open!
Hello everyone! Previously, I hoped to join a Final Fantasy campaign being proposed on the boards here. Alas, real life interfered and caused our would-be GM to disappear. So, not wanting my interest in trying a tabletop version of Final Fantasy to go unfulfilled, I decided that if I couldn’t play in one, I’ll run one of my own instead. To that end, I’m looking for five hardy souls to join me in a Jade Regent campaign run using Final Fantasy D20 rules. I’m also planning on making a few changes to the Adventure Path, so don’t expect me to run things as written. Character Generation Rules are as follows: Build: 20 point buy.
Recruitment ends March 20th.
Hello everyone! I recently offered up a character for a prospective Final Fantasy d20 campaign on the boards here, and unfortunately real life happened--our would-be GM disappeared. A shame, because I was looking forward to playing. That being said, it did get me thinking: "Well, if I can't play in a Final Fantasy game, I might as well run my own." I'm thinking of trying my hand at running Jade Regent again, but this time using Final Fantasy D20 rules. I'm wondering if there's anyone else here who'd be interested in such a campaign.
13th of Rova, 4708 AR The setting Rova sun bathes Riddleport in a brilliant crimson glow, its light casting long shadows across the port’s myriad of crooked alleys and narrow side streets. With the light comes a sharp chill on the wind, bearing the scent of brine and pungent smoke from the Gas Forges. It is a time when Riddleports predators begin to rouse themselves and hunt—thugs take up cudgels in search of a mark to beat and rob, while more furtively-inclined folk move quickly and through the shadows in search of wealthier prey. And others still prefer to let their prey come to them. Sitting on the western edge of Riddleport’s Wharf District, a scant few streets from the waterfront and even fewer steps from several convenient alleyways, the Gold Goblin Casino’s doors are open and ready for new customers. Within, the drab colours and filthy avenues of the City of Cyphers give way to a riot of gold, red and brown—well-tended carpets, immaculately polished wood paneling and silken banners hung from the ceiling serve to distract one from the harsh reality they left behind. Standing at the casino’s threshold is an 8-foot tall statue of a golden goblin, its manic grin turned upwards toward the evening sky… towards the cloud of inky blackness hanging over the town like an ill omen.
Beyond the registration table is the hall’s game floor. Dozens of gamblers, waitresses dressed as succubi, and bouncers mill about the room, wandering amid tables offering various games while dealers shuffle cards, roll dice, and spin wheels. Moving through this throng are a dozen more of the barely clad, bat-winged vixens serving drinks and batting coal-black eyelashes flirtatiously for tips. In the center of the chamber is a short podium atop which sits a massive gold chest affixed to the floor by similarly gaudy chains. On either side of it stands a barechested bouncer in the exotic garb of some foreign sultan’s court. Each stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and with a naked scimitar of prodigious size tucked through his waistband. High above them, from the hall’s cloth-draped ceiling, hangs a brass birdcage within which crouches a small, bat-winged, pointy-tailed devilish creature that sulks as it gazes over the room and occasionally rattles the bars threateningly. Through an archway to the north of the gambling floor is the casino’s bar, The Goblin’s Tankard. With two bartenders on duty and a whole bevy of different liqueurs and other intoxicants on offer, the Tankard is currently seeing brisk business as the evening begins.
Discussion thread is open!
Riddleport. A city of many things: of vice and cruelty, of opportunity and ambition. A city where everyone has eyes on the back of their head, watching for the inevitable betrayal coming for them. A city where if you strike at those in power, you’d best not miss, lest everything you’ve ever known and loved be burnt to cinders in retribution. For many, it is the city they’ve known and suffered in all their life—a place where survival means that you were cunning, nimble or strong enough to get everything you needed to eat and sleep in peace for one more night. For many others, it represents the ultimate triumph of determination and skill—if one can succeed here, with everything arrayed against them, then they can succeed anywhere. And others still see it for the cesspit of civilization that it is and move on. Of late, a couple of strange things have happened in the City of Cyphers—the foremost thing being the appearance of a curious black spot within the sky, unhindered by clouds or sunshine. The Order of Cyphers has cast many divinations in an attempt to discern the dark spot’s true nature, but nothing has come of them; every time one tries, stranger arcane phenomena occur in defiance of such an attempt. Crystal balls cloud and crack, never to scry again; blocks of incense instantly melt into ash; paper turns brittle and shatters into a thousand pieces, each smaller than the last. Most folk do not turn their gaze skyward, however, instead focusing on more comprehensible matters. Coinciding with the appearance of what the locals have dubbed the Blot, the former esteemed criminal Saul Vancaskerkin has returned to the pirate city after being exiled from it, leaving behind a hand and the ashes of his home. Over the course of several weeks he has purchased an old casino and breathed life anew into its aging timbers and rusting metal, renovating it and rechristening it The Gold Goblin. Now, in celebration of his fresh start (and perhaps to trumpet his return to those in power), he has opened the Gold Goblin’s doors with an inaugural gambling tournament… ”COME ONE AND ALL! STEP RIGHT UP! CHEAT THE DEVIL! AND TAKE HIS GOLD!”
Character Generation!
One thing before going further though: I’ve played through enough of Second Darkness to understand that the traits in the Player’s Guide for this AP don’t quite reflect its overarching themes of intrigue, betrayal, ambition and acting at cross-purposes. Admittedly, this is an AP that was originally designed in D&D 3.5E (so some jank is to be expected), but even so the traits (for the most part) connected PCs to a singular event in Riddleport—the ‘Cheat the Devil and Take His Gold’ Gambling Tournament—and didn’t offer much beyond that. With later developments in the AP in mind, here are Campaign Traits that I feel are more appropriate for this venture. Campaign Traits!:
Cromarcky’s Gendarme: You are part of Riddleport’s Gendarmes—they’re what passes for the law in the City of Cyphers. Whether you’re one of the vanishingly rare honest officers or one of the many content to take bribes and break legs in the name of maintaining order, you’re in a better position to tip the balance of local politics than most, even if your job doesn’t pay much. You’ve developed a healthy sense of paranoia (in Riddleport, it’s not a question of if you’ll be stabbed in the back, but when) and a good feel for the city—and you’re used to striking first once it’s clear hostilities are about to happen. Attending the Gold Goblin’s gambling tournament sounds like a good way to let off some steam; if the gambling doesn’t take your mind off your troubles, the drinks certainly will. And besides, Cromarcky’s bound to have questions as to why Saul Vancaskerkin was stupid enough to return. You gain a +1 trait bonus to Sense Motive and Knowledge (Local) checks, and one of these is always a class skill for you. You also gain a +1 trait bonus to Initiative rolls.
Knocmar’s Mouse: Your childhood was spent in Riddleport’s filth-strewn alleyways and dark corners, stealing what you could and fighting or begging for what you couldn’t. It was not a dignified existence, but it was one you could claw out for yourself—and it was your tenacity that caught the attention of one of Riddleport’s crime lords, Varnal ‘Split Face’ Knocmar. The beggar king took you under his wing and taught you how to become a more successful criminal, sending you on more and more daring burglaries as you grew older and improved your skills. Now it’s time to strike out on your own before one of the jobs Knocmar sends you on gets you imprisoned or worse. The Gold Goblin’s tournament should be the perfect place to start making your name—even if you don’t strike it rich at the tables, there’s bound to be plenty of marks with purses ripe for the picking! You gain a +1 bonus to Sleight of Hand and Stealth rolls, and one of these is always a class skill for you. You also gain a +1 trait bonus to Reflex Saves. Lantern Informant: You’re one of the rarest breed of folk in Riddleport—you’re someone respectable. The ones in charge either ignore you or otherwise don’t see you as a threat, the smallfolk don’t mind so much when you pass them by and you know what to do to get the gangs to leave you alone. By all standards, you’re no one of importance: that was why you were contacted. A stranger in a dark green, leaf-embroidered cloak and bearing a fancy lantern tracked you to your home one night and offered you gold for information regarding Riddleport’s leaders. You told him what you knew, accepted your payment and thought you’d never see him again—but he came back the next week. And the week after that, and for many weeks afterward. Now, the stranger has made a bigger request of you—he wishes for you to attend the Gold Goblin’s opening tournament and find out everything you can about Saul Vancaskerkin and why he has returned to Riddleport. You gain a +1 trait bonus to Diplomacy and Perception rolls, and one of these is always a class skill for you. Out-of-Towner: You’re not from Riddleport originally. Whether it’s from your clothes, your mode of speech or how you carry yourself, that fact is very visible to any local who sees you. As a result, people tend to underestimate just how savvy and dangerous you can be. You’ve learned to use this tendency to your advantage, letting them think they have the upper hand until you prove otherwise in a suitably threatening display. Riddleport is said to be a city of opportunities, and you’re going to make the most of them—starting with the Gold Goblin casino’s opening gambling tournament. You gain a +1 trait bonus to one Craft or Profession skill of your choice, and a +1 trait bonus to Intimidate rolls. Intimidate is always a class skill for you. Pamodae’s Catspaw: Passion can loosen the lips of even the most private of people, and you have firsthand experience in that. You are a worker in the House of the Silken Veil—Riddleport’s biggest brothel and temple of Calistria. Your boss, High Priestess Shorafa Pamodae, is one of the city’s foremost information brokers thanks to her extensive clientele—and the skills of her employees in pumping them for secrets. Saul Vancaskerkin’s return to Riddleport is of particular interest to Pamodae, and you were chosen to go forth, insinuate yourself into Saul’s good graces and determine just what would compel Saul to return. You gain a +2 trait bonus to Bluff checks made against people who are attracted to you, and Bluff is always a class skill for you. Also, choose one spell of the enchantment school that you know. The Saving Throw DC of that spell is increased by one against any who are attracted to you. Saul’s Old Pal: You’ve always been at Saul Vancaskerkin’s side, even when he crossed the wrong crime lord and lost almost everything he had for it. The two of you go back a long way, with you frequently pulling him out of one jam or another and he occasionally doing the same for you. Many people have told you that your friendship with Saul is destined to end badly and that you should have cut him loose a long time ago; on bad days, some part of you is inclined to agree with them. But you’ve stuck with each other through thick and thin, and that’s not the sort of thing you could just throw away. Now that Saul’s making his grand comeback with the ‘Cheat the Devil and Take His Gold’ tournament, it’ll be just like the old days… right? Your stubbornness grants you a +1 trait bonus to Will Saves. Tammerhawk’s Agent: You are a junior member of the Cyphermages, formally known as the Order of Cyphers. The Order of Cyphers has a strange, aloof relationship with Riddleport’s politics; so long as their affairs and research are not interfered with, most Cyphermages are content to live and let live. Speaker Elias Tammerhawk, on the other hand, is much more ambitious and active in the pirate city’s local politics. As of late, he’s interested in the Blot that formed in the sky—the same one that came into being the day Saul Vancaskerkin came back to town. It could be a coincidence, or it could be that the two events are related somehow. Regardless, if you’re to advance in standing with the Order, you’ll need to ingratiate yourself with Tammerhawk—and you know that investigating the Blot will be the best way to do it. To that end, you’ve attended the Gold Goblin’s inaugural gambling tournament with hopes of turning up something regarding the Blot. You gain a +1 trait bonus to Knowledge (Arcana) or Spellcraft checks, and one of these skills is always a class skill for you. Whenever you use a library or similar storehouse of knowledge to make a Knowledge skill check, the time taken to complete the check is halved. Zincher’s Patsy: Somehow, you’ve gotten yourself indebted to Clegg Zincher, one of Riddleport’s major crime lords. You’ve been trying your damnedest to get out from under his thumb, but no matter how many jobs you do for the man (all of them taxing, physically and morally), he always finds some excuse to increase the debt you owe him that much more. It’s become clear to you that the only way he’ll be forced to call the debt paid is if you manage to repay it in one massive payout—and in order to accomplish that, you’ll have to take a few risks. The Gold Goblin’s ‘Cheat the Devil’ tournament sounds like it’ll be just what you need. And it’s not like you can get yourself into even deeper trouble with Zincher if this doesn’t pan out, right? You gain a +1 trait bonus to Fortitude Saves. Recruitment ends October 31st. 
Day 1: High Sun, Year of Priest’s Defiance, 170th King’s Age To the north of the Road of Legions, off the main trade route of Balic and nestled within a patch of overtaxed scrubland, sits a quiet hamlet with a pristine oasis. Originally little more than a collection of half-destroyed stonework buildings, hastily-constructed hide tents and a couple of patches of arable soil, this hamlet was thought to have little of interest to the outside world. Even the patrician who purchased a claim to the land forgot about the place as soon as she left, lingering long enough to bestow her name upon it—Athena’s Oasis. But things have greatly changed for this humble hamlet. Within the past six months, Lady Athena has returned from an expedition into the desert with a mysterious treasure and commissioned the construction of a great manor carved of sandstone. No one knows what’s driven Lady Athena to take a new interest in the Oasis, but when the first of many patricians began to arrive, rumours of just what it is Lady Athena found began to swirl about like a brewing dust storm. Some claim she has found jewels; others claim a trove of iron; others still claim she has struck gold. Whatever it is she found, it is slated to be unveiled at tonight’s soirée. Today, the retinues of several patricians—and a few odder sights—gather at the hamlet’s only inn, the Dancing Rasclinn (so named for the image of a dancing rasclinn carved upon the shingle over the inn’s door). The wine here is watered down, the floor is hastily thrown together from what feels like random planks of wood, and the accommodations could only charitably be called comfortable, but as the blazing red sun rises to the peak of noon, it provides much needed shade from its hateful eye.
Hello everyone! Thank you all for your interest, and welcome to my newest DARK SUN campaign. I hope we have a long and fun game together. For those of you who are newcomers to the setting, there are a few important characteristics of this world that set it apart from more conventional campaign settings. These facts are: 1. The World Is Dying. Athas is a planet in decline. Generations of environmental abuse, exploitation, conflict and greed have reduced the world to an almost-barren land of sand, sun and death. The sun burns the world with a blazing red fury that could only come from centuries upon centuries of pain. The harshness of this world is reflected in the sheer toughness, resilience and determination of its inhabitants—on Athas, you grow up sharp, or you don’t grow up at all. 2. The Ones Responsible Are In Charge. The remaining pockets of civilization are ruled by the Sorcerer-Monarchs—beings of unfathomable magical and psionic strength that are said to have existed since the beginning of the land’s decline. They rule their city-states with an iron fist, casting those who transgress against them into slavery and consigning them to death. They are all ambitious, corrupt, and utterly wicked—but some do manage to run a tighter ship than others. Those who reject their rule congregate in the wastes as hunter-gatherer tribes, roaming herdsmen or roving gangs of marauders. Some even manage to find an untouched corner of Athas where they may establish a village, with only their sword-arms and the examples of their leaders to protect them. 3. Resources Are Scarce. Though pockets of greenery, water and even metal remain, the majority of Athas has almost been bled dry of the necessities for survival. An oasis that would be nothing more than a pond on a world like Toril, Krynn or Golarion is a valuable rest stop for even the largest of caravans; an iron mine that yields little more than scraps of the stuff is a prize worthy of going to war for. What metalwork remains on Athas is either securely hoarded away by the Sorcerer-Monarchs and nobles, or languishing in many of the ruins of the past that dot the Athasian landscape. 4. Arcane Magic Is Reviled. Wizardly magic on Athas is not tied to a field of mana that permeates the world, but to the environment—the life force of plants (and in some cases, animals) provides mages with the power necessary to cast their spells. Mages who cast their spells with concern for the environment, taking only the bare minimum they need to work their magic and returning the rest are known as preservers; those who tear the life from the world around them with only concern for their well-being are known as defilers. This distinction is mostly lost on the general public, who (understandably) blame mages for Athas’ miserable state and will sooner see them dead than welcome them as friends or neighbours. 5. There Are No Gods. Athas is a world without gods. Perhaps, in an age gone by, the world once had a pantheon of its own that looked out for its inhabitants, but in the modern day no such deities remain. Paladins also do not exist on Athas—if any did, they succumbed to despair and death long ago, cut off from the deities they once raised their banners for. Now, clerics and druids of this land draw their power from their pacts with the Elemental Planes—the Planes of Earth, Air, Fire and Water. Rarer still are the champions of the paraelemental planes of Sun, Silt, Magma and Rain. Those who swear their faith and allegiance to the Sorcerer-Monarchs of the city-states are granted spells of their own, forming into bureaucratic legions known as templarates to carry out their master’s will—enforcing order, inspiring fear, and if any time is left over in their schedule, managing the city’s daily functions and affairs. 6. Psionics Are Everywhere. In stark contrast to the magic of wizards and priests, just about everyone on Athas has some measure of psionic ability—from the lowliest slave working on a noble plantation to the mightiest Sorcerer-Monarch. Some with the money, time and commitment choose to enroll in psionic academies within the city-states, refining their mental abilities in order to become psionicists. Others are lucky enough to find an independent master, beholden to no intrigues of the cities. Many of the monsters of Athas have evolved their own psionic abilities to better hunt and kill in the wastes. 7. The Races You Know Have Changed. Generations of brutality and struggle have caused the once-familiar races of other worlds to evolve. Dwarves are no longer mountain-dwelling, bearded warriors, but hairless brutes who utterly dedicate themselves to the completion of a single goal. Gone are the (supposedly) long-lived, wise and united elves of old, replaced with lanky, untrustworthy desert runners who race—literally and figuratively—to forever live in the moment with the only love between them reserved for their tribes. The halflings of this world are not shire-dwelling homebodies with only an appetite for the humbler pleasures of life—they are savage hunters and trackers with an appetite for the meat and flesh of those who blunder into their jungle homes. Half-elves rarely find acceptance in either human lands or elven tribes, forcing them to learn the harsh lessons of Athas alone. Gnomes, in their entirety, are extinct. In their place, stranger races have arisen: the slave-bred, enduring half-dwarves known as muls, the towering, mercurial-natured goliaths known as half-giants, and the alien, insectoid warriors known as thri-kreen. And yet… 8. Heroism Is Still Possible. By the time the campaign begins, something momentous has occurred: the Sorcerer-King, Kalak of Tyr, has been slain at the hands of a slave revolt, and his city of Tyr has thrown off the institution of slavery. For the first time in millennia, the illusion of invincibility the Sorcerer-Monarchs worked so hard to cultivate has been shattered—these tyrants can be felled. They can die. Character Generation Rules are as follows: Method: Roll 4d4+4 six times and arrange as you like.
The first adventure of the campaign begins in the southern reaches of the Tyr Region, in a hamlet north of the Road of Legions known as Athena’s Oasis. It was once little more than a nameless ex-slave village, one of many huddled around water sources like overprotective erdlu. That all changed when a half-elven noble of Balic known as Athena Vestang purchased the rights to the land—and, in true Nouveau Riche fashion, forgot about it until recently. In the past few months, the hamlet has grown into a burgeoning client village, and a sandstone manor in the Balician style has been constructed near the oasis that provided for the town’s denizens. Your characters have arrived in Athena’s Oasis on the eve of a celebration of sorts—Lady Athena has invited several of Balic’s patricians and even the hamlet’s citizens to her soirée, provided of course they’re properly dressed. Here, you can discuss how/if your characters know each other and why they’re at Athena’s Oasis. Perhaps some of you are in the service (willingly or otherwise) of one of Balic’s patricians, and have accompanied your master at their behest. Perhaps you’re an agent of a merchant house who seeks to make a beneficial partnership with Lady Athena—or perhaps a house rogue hired to either humiliate the hostess or ensure she doesn’t survive the party. Or whatever other reason you can come up with. ABOUT MATURE THEMES & CONTENT: The DARK SUN campaign setting is decidedly darker in tone and atmosphere than most other settings, and as such I wish for everyone here to establish their comfort levels on such topics. Personally, I draw the line at any depictions of sexual violence—especially under the duress of slavery. Any otherwise lewd content may be kept to private messaging or in-game spoiler tabs, depending on player consensus. Are there any topics you would not be comfortable dealing with in the context of this game?
Our story begins here, in the grimy and violent city of Riddleport. Built upon a foundation of vice and sin by a collective of pirates, Riddleport is said to be one of the ultimate cities of opportunity; with sharp eyes, keen ears, some skill and a little bit of luck, even the most destitute of fellows can earn themselves fame and fortune… often at the expense of the hundreds more like them. Of late, a strange, inky-black blot has appeared in the skies above the pirate city. Some claim it is a portent of doom—a sign of impending divine retribution against the town for its wickedness. Others of a more scholarly bent—especially those of the Order of Cyphers—claim that it is a new celestial phenomenon, though an explanation for its cause is not forthcoming. Regardless, the sight of the Blot has attracted the attention of researchers of all sorts, some from as far away as Magnimar—and with new faces in Riddleport, comes new opportunities for money to be made. One such opportunity has arisen amidst the buzz surrounding the Blot; after several years of middling profits, the Gold Goblin Gambling Hall has reopened its doors with a brand-new tournament. Its objective: to Cheat the Devil, and Take His Gold.
Beyond the registration table is the hall’s game floor. Dozens of gamblers, waitresses dressed as succubi, and bouncers mill about the room, wandering amid tables offering various games while dealers shuffle cards, roll dice, and spin wheels. Moving through this throng are a dozen more of the barely clad, bat-winged vixens serving drinks and batting coal-black eyelashes flirtatiously for tips. In the center of the chamber is a short podium atop which sits a massive gold chest affixed to the floor by similarly gaudy chains. On either side of it stands a barechested bouncer in the exotic garb of some foreign sultan’s court. Each stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and with a naked scimitar of prodigious size tucked through his waistband. High above them, from the hall’s cloth-draped ceiling, hangs a brass birdcage within which crouches a small, bat-winged, pointy-tailed devilish creature that sulks as it gazes over the room and occasionally rattles the bars threateningly.
The main floor of the Gold Goblin is already bustling with activity as you get set up at a nearby gaming table—specifically, the one with the ghoul head mounted on top of a roulette wheel. Several of the Goblin’s wait staff are already making the rounds with the ‘contracts’ for the tournament. Never mind the fact that you know succubi aren’t devils, and none of the contracts are really binding: your boss, Saul, understands that scantily-clad attractive women get more tips. It’s a crude, but effective way to squeeze more money out of customers. The floor manager, a well-dressed and groomed dwarf by the name of Larur Feldin, approaches your table with a stony look in his eye. He’s dressed in a fine red suit and freshly-pressed white undershirt, with the only concession he’s made to tonight’s Devil theme being a pair of fake red horns atop his balding head. ”Blaze. Everything in order at the Ghoulette table?” He asks, is sharp voice still managing to cut through the clamour of the casino.
The Gold Goblin is a lot busier than you were expecting, but that means it’s lively enough for a proper centennial. As the three of you make your way through the casino’s main doors, you’re greeted by two women dressed in bat wings, devil horns, tails and little else—one with brilliant red hair and a confident grin, the other with flowing blonde hair and a bright-eyed but nervous smile. ”Welcome to the Gold Goblin, mortals.” The redheaded ‘succubus’ smirks and reaches her hand into a stack of papers on a nearby table. ”Will you be partaking in tonight’s revelries? Then you’ll need to sign here.” She starts to distribute three contracts to you. Its contents are as follows:
DC 15 Knowledge (Arcana/Local): This contract doesn't look like a legally binding document. It's probably just a fancy way of keeping track of tournament participants.
Here's the discussion thread for the campaign. Post your level-ups here.
The discussion thread is open!
The year is 1197 AD. The ashes of the Third Crusade have settled over a Muslim-claimed Jerusalem, and in the wake of the death of Saladin the whispers of Christianity carry rumours of another quest to retake the Holy Land. Heedless of such rumours, the Holy Roman Emperor, Henry VI of the House of Hohenstaufen, has launched a Crusade of his own to avenge the ignoble death of his father, Frederick Barbarossa. But, as is the case with much of human history, a darker purpose guides his actions. By day, the Holy Roman Empire is a bastion of piety and zealotry within the Roman Catholic faith. By night, the darkened city streets and foreboding forests of the Empire’s many kingdoms play host to a society of monsters. Wretched and foreboding, these creatures survive off of the blood of humans and are said to have subtly guided the actions of all mortals, from beggars and thieves to clergy and kings. The monsters who make their homes in this Empire know the land by a different name… the Fiefdoms of the Black Cross. Whether you wanted it or not, you are part of this society now. Within the past five years, you have been Embraced and have found yourself within the city of Magdeburg. Perhaps you lived in this city for all of your mortal life, or perhaps you have come to this city for your own reasons. Whatever the circumstances of your arrival in Magdeburg, you know that you have to introduce yourself to the city’s Prince if you are to be permitted to stay here. The Prince’s court is being held in the Cathedral of Saint Maurice. Don’t be late.
Character Generation rules are as follows: Starting Generation: 12th.
Recruitment ends July 10th, 2020.
Hello everyone! I'm interested in running a Vampire game set in the Dark Ages using 20th Anniversary Edition rules. I'm planning to set it mainly within the Fiefdoms of the Black Cross (a.k.a. the Holy Roman Empire), following a mix of published stories and homebrewed content. Would anyone be interested in joining in?
I've been trying to select a new avatar image for one of my aliases, but every time I try results in an error message. I've tried it on Firefox, Safari and Google Chrome. Is this a problem for anyone else?
Day 1: High Sun, Year of Priest’s Defiance, 170th King’s Age The first indication that dawn has broken is the grumbling of the massive mekillots towing the argosy. Then comes the tell-tale creaking and groaning of the massive stone-and-wood rollers as the wagon-fortress begins to move. It’s the same routine as the past week, and perhaps the week before that. Once the wagon begins to move, an hour passes before the guards come around with a paltry meal of gruel and just enough water for their cargo to not go thirsty. Their arrival coincides with uncomfortable headaches—those in the cell with a greater command of psionics find that their efforts to manifest their powers become nigh-impossible. There’s only a single chamber pot in the centre of the cell for all the cargo to share. There’s no ventilation in the cell—the heat and stink within is almost unbearable. The argosy’s cargo is bound in heavy leather collars and manacles, closed with giant-hair rope and set in the cell’s walls through loops of bone. It’s a decidedly eclectic mix of slaves: a thri-kreen with burnished red chitin and jet black eyes; a towering half-giant who seems to barely fit into the cell; a mul bearing many scars from his time in bondage; a blond elf whose legs have been bound at the ankles; and a woman with orange eyes. Though they were each captured at different points in the trek, all five of them are bound for the same destination—the slave pits of the city-state of Tyr. Today, things are different. The cargo has been fed and watered this morning, but barely a half-hour has passed before the argosy comes to a sudden stop. The sounds of rapid footsteps outside and above the cargo cell fill the air. The headaches plaguing the psionically-inclined slaves suddenly end.
The discussion thread is open!
A harsh, red sun burns overhead. The wind picks up, blowing a gust of searing air through the endless desert wastes. As the wind blows, a gout of sand is caught up in its wake, flying at breakneck speed and scouring anyone—or anything—unfortunate enough to be in its path. Several grains of sand fly into the eyes of a pair of house-sized grey-scaled lizards, causing them to let out a harsh, grumbling noise and flinch. The beasts’ handler, a dark-skinned and well-dressed human, wraps a cloth around his mouth and focuses his will on the massive beasts’ minds, instructing them to continue onward through the desert wind. The enormous creatures huff and slowly march onward, towing the giant wooden fortress of a wagon behind them. Soldiers dressed in weather-beaten leathers and bearing swords carved of obsidian move to seek shelter within the wagon-fortress’ interior. As uncomfortable as the howling wind is, the wagon’s cargo would trade it for their predicament in a heartbeat. Stripped of all but their smallclothes and tied up inside a sweltering and stinking holding cell, the unlucky souls here sit in despair-filled silence, awaiting their fate—to be sold off as slaves to some petty tyrant, to work and sweat and bleed and die. You are part of this cargo. You’ve been trapped in this slave caravan for what feels like weeks now. Your captors give you barely enough food and water to stave off dehydration and starvation. You have no idea what fate awaits you at your destination, but you are utterly certain that you do not wish to find out. You must escape.
Character Generation rules are as follows: Method: 4d4+4, six times, arrange as you like.
Recruitment will end November 4th, 2019.
Hello folks! With my schoolwork starting to even out a bit and my current DARK SUN campaign progressing kinda slowly, I've gotten a hankering for some old-school campaigning. I'm curious to hear if there's any interest in a prospective DARK SUN campaign using AD&D 2e rules. It will be my first time using the old system, but I think I can come to grips with it.
The discussion thread is now open!
The discussion thread is open!
”Welcome to House Volatexia.” Those were the first words you heard after you were herded with what seemed to be dozens of other people into the great training yard. Slaves, volunteers, the condemned and the unfortunate—all are lined up in the yard as an imperious contralto voice booms from the roofed, ornate viewing box in the stands. Several drow guards stand nearby, their expressions stoic and their weapons readied. ”Today, on this most auspicious of days, your training shall begin.” A tall, ravishing drow woman emerges from the viewing box, her ethereal white gown flowing around her like water and offering glimpses of the dark blue sculpted flesh and muscle beneath. She walks slowly down the stairs in the stands, her pale white eyes taking in the motley crowd before her. She runs a hand through her luxurious white hair, pulling a lock of it behind her ear. ”You have chosen—“ A cruel half-smirk appears on her face. ”—or have *been* chosen—“ Her expression shifts back to its commanding glare. ”—to serve our great and wondrous city in the most glorious of professions—to learn the ways of the gladiator.” When she reaches the edge of the arena, she starts walking along the edge of the front-row seating. ”When you first arrived here, you were nothing more than scum. Wannabes. Slaves and worms. Barely even fit to lick the filth from my boots.” ”Here, in this crucible of blood and darkness, you will be reforged into something greater and grander than you ever imagined.” She stops and turns to face you, spreading her arms wide. ”Here, you will find your true calling—or oblivion.” ”You will undoubtedly seek to form teams. For the sake of your own survival if nothing else. This will be permitted, but you WILL understand that, in the end, a true gladiator must face their opponents on their own. You will stand on your own. You will fight on your own.” She narrows her eyes at the crowd. ”If you can do neither, then you will *die* on your own.” ”And only the very best will rise to true heights of greatness and glory—“ She looks down on the crowd with a sneer. ”—and, if it *really* pains you so much to be deprived of it—freedom.” She makes a gesture to the guards, and they fade back to the edges of the arena as more drow arrive, bringing behind them riding lizards burdened with racks of weapons and armour. ”See that you do not disappoint me. Your training begins *now.*”
Fair warning: I'm planning to have this be a bit more Mature-rated than my usual fare. Hope everyone's okay with that. Races: Core, Featured and Uncommon (within reason—ask me if you have a particularly exotic character idea in mind).
The traditional gladiator’s outfit consists of a loincloth and sandals, with a gladiatrix getting a breast band for a measure of modesty and comfort. Their exposed skin is often oiled up so their physiques are highlighted during arena contests or display. Each PC has a choice of one of the following suits of armour: Gladiator’s Belt: A balteus (wide, thick leather belt), often reinforced with metal, bone or other hard materials. Uses the stats of a haramaki. Gladiator’s Leather Armour: A leather manica (an arm-guard that extends from shoulder to wrist) with a pair of leather greaves, in addition to the balteus. Uses the stats of a suit of leather armour. Gladiator’s Studded Leather Armour: A heavier leather manica and greaves reinforced with studs of metal, in addition to the balteus. Uses the stats of a suit of studded leather armour. Gladiator’s Chain Shirt: A balteus with metal greaves, a manica of banded metal and an enclosed helmet. Uses the stats for a chain shirt. You may also choose to go unarmoured. PCs are also given a dagger as a backup weapon. This dagger may be substituted for a kukri or quadrens if they are proficient with them.
Campaign Traits:
Always Ready: Your gladiatorial training has ingrained in you a constant tension—you’re always on edge, waiting for the next fight to break out. When the fight starts, you make a point of striking first and striking decisively. You gain a +1 trait bonus to Initiative checks and a +1 trait bonus to attack rolls made within the first round of combat. Auctoratus: Unlike most of the unfortunate souls in the ludus, you voluntarily gave up your freedom to join. Whatever your reasons for doing so, you understand that the crowd always appreciates a willing gladiator. You gain a +1 trait bonus to Performance Combat checks, and once per day you may reroll a failed Performance Combat check and take the higher result. Beast Tamer: You were brought into the pits because you have an affinity for the dangerous beasts that stalk the Darklands. In between combat drills and sparring, you were assigned to care for the many ravenous animals and monsters caught and bred for the arena. You gain a +1 bonus to Knowledge (Dungeoneering) and Knowledge (Nature) checks, and one of these is a class skill for you. You also gain a +2 trait bonus to Wild Empathy checks made against creatures native to the Darklands. Cheating Bastard: You’ll do anything to get an advantage, and you’ve gotten good at doing so discreetly. You gain a +2 trait bonus to Sleight of Hand checks made to conceal an item on your person or to use an item without anyone noticing. Also, once per day, you may make a Dirty Trick combat maneuver as an immediate action. Don’t expect this to endear you to the crowd. The Fixer: You were someone who knew how to get things discreetly, and this didn’t change when you were thrown into the pits. You have a talent for cultivating good relationships with guards and similar authority figures, and they allow you to bring in certain services for other gladiators. You gain a +1 trait bonus to Diplomacy checks made to influence lower-class citizens (like guards) and can smuggle non-magical items or services (including spellcasting) worth up to a total of 50 gp per month without cost to yourself. Furtive Faithful: Before you were captured and enslaved, you followed a religion that would have landed you on the wrong end of a drow sacrificial blade. You’ve lost your original holy symbol, but you were able to fashion a new one that’s stylized to resemble a demon lord’s while still retaining enough elements of your patron god that it still works for you. You’ve learned to lie remarkably well when confronted about possibly being a heretic. You gain a +2 trait bonus on Bluff checks, and Bluff is always a class skill for you. Pit-Born & Pit-Bred: You were born into slavery in Zirnakaynin’s gladiator pits. You’ve suffered greatly during your childhood as you were trained to fight and bleed for the entertainment of others, but that suffering has toughened your body to the point where you can withstand punishment that would lay others low. Your brutal upbringing has granted you a +1 trait bonus to Fortitude saving throws, as well as 1/- damage reduction. This damage reduction does not stack with any other type of damage reduction. Problem Slave: You were a living headache for your previous master. You back-sassed them, deliberately performed your tasks slowly, and otherwise went out of your way to be as defiant as you could without pushing them too far. You excelled at your assigned duties, so your master couldn’t simply have you killed or worse, but you got more than your share of lashings and torture. You endured them all just to see the look of frustration on your old master’s face when you didn’t break. Eventually, they became fed up with your antics and sent you to the gladiator pits. You gain a +2 bonus to one Craft, Perform or Profession skill of your choice, and that skill is a class skill for you. In addition, you gain a +1 trait bonus to Will saving throws. Sex Symbol: Your training has sculpted your body into the pinnacle of perfection, and you exude raw animal magnetism that draws others to you. Whenever you use Bluff or Diplomacy to interact with someone who is (or may become) attracted to you, you may use your Strength modifier instead of your Charisma modifier. Summoner’s Apprentice: Your magical talents have been noticed by Terrix Volatexia, the master summoner of the ludus, and he has claimed you as his apprentice. In addition to combat training, you have begun learning the secrets of summoning exotic monsters for arena combats—and how they may be killed. Whenever you summon a monster with a spell, spell-like ability or magic item, you add 1 additional round to the duration of their summoning. You also gain a +1 trait bonus to Knowledge (Arcana) and Knowledge (Planes) checks, and one of these skills is a class skill for you. Style Traits: Andabata: You fight with a closed helmet and a blindfold, armed with only a longsword. This style is normally intended to serve as comic relief, but you’ve learned to fight well with it. When rolling percentile dice to determine miss chance because of concealment, you reduce the miss chance granted by concealment by 10.
Cestus: You fight with a pair of cestus, focusing on an unarmed combat style that delivers punishing blows. If your base unarmed damage dice is higher than a cestus’ base damage dice, you use the higher of the two. In addition, you gain a +1 trait bonus to damage whenever you choose to inflict non-lethal damage while using your cestus. Diamachaerus: You fight with a gladius or sica in either hand. This is a crowd-pleasing style that requires a lot of skill to master. When you fight with a gladius, short sword or sica (or any combination of the three) in either hand, you reduce the penalty for fighting with two weapons by an additional point. Hoplomachus: You fight with a spear, gladius and light shield—a classic gladiatorial combat style. It’s not the flashiest or most memorable of styles, but you’ve learned to make the most of it nonetheless. You may use a spear one-handed with no penalties. Murmillo: This is a more defensive style, using a gladius and heavy steel shield. You’ve trained for so long with the shield that it no longer interferes with your movement. You do not take any armour check penalties when using a heavy shield. Peregrinus: You fight as ’a paragon of your race’, as seen through the eyes of the drow. Your armour is designed to reflect a stereotype of your people (such as being leaf patterned for a surface elf, painted with garish colours for a gnome, blood-coloured for a dhampir, etc.) and you fight with weapons familiar to your people. Choose one weapon mentioned in your race’s Weapon Familiarity racial trait: you fight with that weapon, and it is treated as if it has the Performance quality. You may choose to use a single weapon and shield, a two-handed weapon or to dual-wield two weapons. If your race has no associated Weapon Familiarity trait, choose a weapon associated with the region your ancestors hail from (such as a falcata & buckler of a rondelero duelist for Taldor, an axe and shield for an Ulfen character, a scythe for characters from Geb, etc.). Provocator: This fighting style is employed by volunteer gladiators who are smart enough to claim this in their contract or slave gladiators whose masters are keen on protecting their investments. You begin play with a masterwork agile breastplate, a masterwork gladius and a normal heavy shield or tower shield. This style is not a crowd favourite, as the gladiator is usually seen as entering the arena with an unfair advantage over their opponent—unless said opponent is similarly equipped or particularly powerful. You take a -4 penalty to Performance Combat checks while using this equipment set, unless you are facing someone similarly equipped or a creature whose Challenge Rating is 3 higher than your character level. Retiarius: You fight with a trident and net, employing a fighting style that emphasizes hampering your opponent’s mobility while maintaining your own. Whenever you move at least 10 feet in combat, you gain a +1 dodge bonus to AC until the start of your next turn. Sagittarius: You are trained in the use of the bow, a rather unorthodox style of gladiatorial combat. You fight with a short bow or a long bow, and the range increment of your chosen weapon is increased by 10 feet. Scizore: You fight with a weapon called a scizore, and you’ve trained with it for long enough that it feels like an extension of your own arm. Whenever you attack with a scizore, if you’re only wearing light armour and carrying no more than a light load, you don’t take the -1 penalty to attack rolls. Thraex: You fight with a light shield and sica. This fighting style is designed to counter fighters employing shields. You gain a +1 trait bonus made to confirm critical hits against opponents wielding bucklers, light shields or heavy shields.
Hello everyone! About five years ago, I was in a campaign that was set in the drow metropolis of Zirnakaynin, where the PCs were gladiators destined to become embroiled in drow intrigues and politicking in between combats. It took several cues from the Spartacus: Blood and Sand TV series, and I felt that it was a cool idea for a campaign. Unfortunately, it didn’t last very long (real life got in the way and all that). So, I decided after a while that I’d love to give it another shot, and I wondered if anyone else on the boards would be up for it too.
Oathday, 10th of Arodus, 4710 AR The day begins as most days do, in the Mana Wastes—with a glaring sun creeping up over the horizon, turning the skies a rich, crimson hue. A wild, easterly wind blows along the streets of the Clockwork City, carrying bits of debris, sand and smoke along its path. Most such detritus will be blown into the murky, cloying and mutagenic waters of the Ustradi River as it flows, unceasingly, onward to the Hellfallen Cliffs and cascading down. The rest will fly errantly about until they catch on one of Alkenstar’s smokestacks. Alkenstar’s citizens begin to rise for the day, some with greater energy and enthusiasm than others. Mothers feed and dress their children for school; fathers, sisters and brothers go forth to face another day of exhausting labour in one of the city’s many factories. There, they will toil to produce works of mechanical engineering the likes of which the world beyond has never seen. Some of these things could even be put to civilian use—things such as clocks that need no water to function, or small boxes that can produce the gentlest of melodies. Or perhaps even little toys crafted in the shapes of monsters that lurk in the Wastes, and the brave souls who fight them. But every citizen knows that Alkenstar’s true triumphs of manufacturing are its weapons of war. Pistols, muskets, cannons, even the mighty airships of the Aeromantic Fleet are all produced, piece by piece, within the ringing halls of Skyside’s factories or the soot-stained workroom floors of Smokeside. But in these recent days, things have been different. A pall of worry has fallen upon the scribes of Smokeside, smothering their enthusiasm for their work as readily as Smokeside’s very nature smothers magic itself. Alkenstar’s newspaper, the Lone Star Gazette, has run an ominous headline today…
Alorea:
Today appears to be shaping up to be a slow day. As of late, the most pressing case the Whispering Wind Detective Agency has taken on has been a mere investigation into whether some Skyside aristocrat’s husband has been cheating on his wife—hardly a challenge for someone of your intellectual acumen. As you sit in your office, pondering what else to do for the day, there’s a knock at your door.
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* ”Hello? Detective Alorea?” It’s an anxious-sounding young man’s voice… is it perhaps a new client? Daerokh:
”Hmm… this is terrible news indeed.” Bahadur Jayakhumar sets the newspaper down on the table before you and scratches his chin through his impressive salt-and-pepper beard. The aged Vudrani merchant then picks up his porcelain teapot and begins to pour himself a cup of tea, its slight woody scent drifting across to you. ”A scribe can earn himself great wealth back home. How can one have such disrespect for the written word and those who pen it?”
The taproom of Skyside’s Drifter’s Rest inn is quiet this morning—aside from a waiter, a couple of other patrons and the bartender, you and Bahadur are the only people here. Faithe:
The newspaper doesn’t normally catch your eye more often than anything else does, but today the Lone Star Gazette’s headline drew your attention in a way it never did before. When you read the headline, you could swear you felt something stir in your memory… something about it seemed oddly familiar.
You set out to find Zariine’s home after seeing it—perhaps she would have some insight as to why it felt that way. It doesn’t take you long before you reach her home again: it’s situated on the northern end of Alkenstar’s Auburn District, two stories high and bearing an uncannily white façade with green shutters around its windows. A rather nondescript home for someone who claims to work for the city’s government. You attract a few stares and wary glances as you approach her house. That’s hardly anything new. Jase:
Today doesn’t appear to be shaping up to be a good day. Between the pounding headache and gnawing thirst you feel this morning, coupled with hazy memories of arguing with someone over how effective the Shieldmarshals are at policing Alkenstar, it’s a wonder you’ve even managed to roll out of bed. The details of your argument will undoubtedly return to you once you’ve had a chance to fully wake up and get something nourishing to drink.
As you reach your front door, you find today’s Lone Star Gazette pushed underneath your door. Its headline, all in capital letters and a bolded font, stares at you. Joie:
You rise early, as a good soldier would. Early enough to perhaps appreciate the blood-red sunrise characteristic of the Mana Wastes. The rest of your unit rises at about the same time you do in preparation for morning drills and meals. The barracks attached to the Nexian embassy in the eastern neighborhoods of Skyside are about as utilitarian and drab as the ones back in Quantium: cold, beige stone walls with several bunks covered in plain brown blankets.
There are whispers going around in the mess hall when you come in from your morning drills—the newspaper has a headline about scribes being murdered. And more importantly, that the authorities have nothing to go on. This may be of interest to your commanding officer… Tuco: Smokeside is no place for the timid, foolish or overly-reliant on magic. This lesson has been drilled into your head since the day you were born. When you first took up witchcraft, it was… an experience, having to adjust to Smokeside’s lack of magic. But you were born and raised here, under the smog-and-ash filled sky. You’ve learned well enough.
Today, one of your patients—a frequent visitor, Merrick Bullock—has visited you with several fresh cuts and what appears to be a gunshot wound to the left shoulder. The gun-smuggling business appears to have been treating him worse than the Oiled Musket has. ”Tailor! Been readin’ the news lately?” The wiry man says as he sits down. There’s a copy of the Lone Star Gazette in his hands—it looks to be today’s issue.
The discussion thread is open!
War. War never changes. When nations go to war, they can do so for any number of reasons, from the righteous, to the desperate, to the utterly foolish. Long ago, two great nations took up arms and mustered their armies to meet on the field of battle: the magocracy of Nex, and the eternal kingdom of Geb. Nex rallied its people with promises of resources they needed to live. Geb stirred its citizens to fight in the name of defending their way of life against foreign influence. But the true reason they went to war was the pettiest of all: the leaders of both nations refused to acknowledge each other as equals. Their wounded pride would culminate in a magical cataclysm that changed their borders forever, causing Nex to collapse into a thousand quarrelling factions and transforming Geb into a country ruled by the walking dead. No one knows who won the war. Far too many lives were lost on both sides for it to matter. But in a million small ways, the war never truly ended. In public, Nex and Geb smile and wave and exchange goods for the sake of their peoples. Behind closed doors, they plot against each other, using the land and societies between them as a chessboard, undermining each other in a cold war that has persisted to this very day. But a new civilization has emerged in recent centuries, rising from the magic-ravaged ashes of the Mana Wastes—the Grand Duchy of Alkenstar. It is a nation that embraces technology as their path to the future. It is a nation where magic is at best, nonexistent—and at worst, unpredictable. It is a nation that has drawn the eyes of its neighbors, seeking either to wield it against the other in their eternal rivalry, or to unmake it before it becomes a threat. Life in Alkenstar is about to change…
It begins with the investigation into a series of murders targeting Alkenstar’s scribes, and will spiral into a campaign of mystery solving and backroom dealing, of exploration of the Wastes, and perhaps even of changing the balance of power and politics in the region forever. Here are the Character Generation rules I’m going to use for this campaign: Method: 25-point buy.
Also, for circumstances where primal magic is in effect, we will be using the Primal Magic variant magic rules. Recruitment will end March 3rd.
Here's the discussion thread for the players! 
The township of Kassen sits in the northern reaches of the Southern Fangwood, a deep, uncharted forest in the heart of the country of Nirmanthas. This small town is home to many races and peoples, despite—or perhaps, because of—its isolation; it was established by the tiefling warrior-priest of Erastil, Ekat Kassen, as ‘a home for those without one to call their own’. For some, it’s a place to call home with pride—for others, it’s another stop on a journey elsewhere. The town has a particular festival that it celebrates every four years: one which involves a group of interested youths and travellers venturing out of Kassen on a journey to an elaborate crypt to the south of town. It’s considered a rite of passage for many—a chance to have a taste of the adventuring life of Kassen himself before settling down and building new lives for themselves. The return of these youths is a cause for celebration for the whole town as they mark the last great harvest of the year before the first weeks of winter. In this little town, five stories are converging. Five brave souls, touched by destiny & fortune, that have found themselves in Kassen for their own reasons. Some have lived here all their lives—and others are only recent arrivals. Life in Kassen is about to change… Moonday, 1st of Neth, 4700 AR The sun shines down on the sleepy little town, and a calm breeze drifts over the currents of the Tourandel River. The town square is busy today: the news on most people’s lips is that the Festival of the Everflame is coming in three days’ time. A pair of young half-orc men boast that they’re bound to be chosen for the journey to the crypt on one street corner, and that one of them will finally catch the eye of the dashing, charming town detective. On another, a young woman with skin of gravel and hair of quartz smiles a toothy, wistful grin as she daydreams about seeing the world outside Kassen for the first time. A pair of foxwife bakers titter and whisper sweet nothings in each others’ ears, wondering if their little girl will be asked to venture into the wilds for a chance at adventure. Others gossip about the newest arrivals in town, and a colourful bunch they are indeed. A woman touched by the elements themselves, having only been in town for a week but already causing a stir with her worldly demeanour, her devotion to Calistria and her appetite for beautiful women; a man built like a mountain, who bore talents for swordplay and for manipulating the very earth around him as though it were made of clay; and a small kobold whose green scales shone like the morning sun itself, bearing the strange gift of magic. Perhaps they will be the ones to journey to the crypt… Vixie:
Today starts like any other day—get out of bed, get dressed, have a little breakfast (albeit one that’s little by halfling standards). You hear the sound of Kasumi, one of your guardians, humming a merry little tune as the smell of baking cookies fills the home. The scent does much to spur your appetite, but not quite enough to distract you (for once) from your thoughts—the Festival of the Everflame is coming up soon… and you might get picked! Watch Captain Gregor would have to accept you into his ranks after that! Bertrand:
The Seven Silvers Inn is busy this morning, and it’s quite easy to tell who the true out-of-towners are: they’re the ones who can’t help but gawk at the many exotic-looking peoples going about their lives. Your mentor, Jocyn, is sitting at the inn’s stage, playing a jaunty tune with a smile on his tanned face. He finishes with a flourish, running a hand through his curly black hair to the applause of the crowd. The word on everyone’s lips is how the Festival of the Everflame is coming up soon. If you get picked, conquering the crypt might be a nice challenge for your deductive talents. Khalaban:
Today, Olmira has summoned you to her grove in the farmlands to the west of town, claiming that matters of great importance weigh on her mind. The note you received from the robin who dropped it in your lap read as such, anyway. Her grove isn’t too far away—you might still be able to catch the breakfast menu at the Seven Silvers by the time you get back.
Is she worried about this ‘Festival of the Everflame’? It’s what everyone seems to be talking about these days… Adriana:
You manage to extricate yourself from the arms of your comely, doe-eyed bedmate and start slipping into your clothes and gear for the day. Talia Tirson, the once-virginal waif of the Tirson family of woodcutters, hasn’t woken up yet, still languidly snoring away as you rise. Father Prasst would undoubtedly grind his teeth at the thought of you ‘despoiling’ such a maiden; the thought tickles you. Still, taking part in this ‘Festival of the Everflame’ would be a good distraction—and perhaps, a chance for cooler heads to settle the wound-up priest down. Maxilla: Your time spent in the Vargidan snarl has been remarkably enlightening! The gift of magic was so rare in your old tribe, but here it’s practically mundane. Hope has given you some lessons in how to channel your gift properly—no more accidentally opening doors in people’s faces or blinding them with sudden bursts of light for you. The servants of the Vargidan family have been very appreciative of your efforts to earn your keep here—the snarl goes through lots of these strange, oversized delicate disks they call ‘dishes’, and keeping them scrupulously clean has been no small task.
The children are all curious about who will volunteer to participate in this ceremony they call the ‘Festival of the Everflame’. Is it like a dragon’s flame?
Here's the discussion thread. This'll be where we sort out character backstories, stats, and ties to NPCs in town. Happy to have you all here!
Hello folks! This recruitment thread is for the lovely ladies, gentlemen & the beautiful spectrum in between over on Paizo's LGBT Gamer Community Thread. I'm planning on running 5 PCs through Crypt of the Everflame, all the way through to City of Golden Death. Here's the CharGen rules: Let’s do something offbeat. 25 point buy. Races: Any, as long as you give me a good enough justification.
It's a question that's been buzzing around my head for a bit. This thread is for exotic pets of all sorts in Pathfinder. Did your ranger decide that the little fungus leshy following them around would be a perfect mascot? Or perhaps that cacodaemon trying its best to bite the sorcerer is too (oddly) adorable to put down? Maybe that druid thought an owlbear cub would make for a perfectly trainable house pet. I'd love to hear 'em all! I'll go first--my Iron Gods party here on the boards has recently adopted a blindheim as a pet. It attacked them first, but after they reduced it to about 1 HP, it acted like any wounded animal would and cowered in the corner of its cave. They felt quite guilty about it, healed it, fed it, bandaged it up, and later decided to name it Waffles. 
"Word is travelling. Ambition is stirring in distant cities... we can use this."
Due to real life circumstances, one of our players had to leave the campaign. We're about two-fifths of the way through the first book of the AP, and we're looking for two new players to join our merry little band. CharGen Rules: 20 point buy. You will start at Level 2. Races: Core & the following: Changeling, Dhampir, Orc. Other races may be considered with a good enough background. Alignments: Any Non-Evil. Classes: No Antipaladin, Ninja, Samurai, or Vigilante. Occult classes are especially appropriate for this AP. Starting Wealth: Start at Level 2 Wealth. HP Rolls: Max for 1st level, then half + CON +1 upon levelling up. Traits: 2, with 1 being a Campaign Trait. You may take a Drawback for a 3rd trait. We look forward to meeting you! 
Toilday, 2nd of Neth, 4717 AR Located near the head of the Seven Tears River, the smelting town of Torch is normally a busy, and perhaps even vibrant, place to live. Home to smiths, traders, hard-working nobles and smallfolk alike, this industrious town’s claim to fame is the grand column of violet fire that periodically shoots far into the skies from the hill the town is built around. The locals call it the Black Hill—named for both the blackened soil and grass surrounding the great, gaping pit the violet flames come from, and the black sludge that congeals around the pit’s edge. Within the Black Hill, metalworkers use the intensely-burning fire to smelt even the hardest skymetals into shape for commercial use. Alas, such a discovery would not be without its drawbacks. Torch is a town subject to heavy taxation from the Technic League: a shady organization of technology-obsessed wizards who are said to be the true governors of the country of Numeria. A great deal of the gold that the town makes from creating and selling exceptionally-crafted skymetal tools goes straight into the League’s pockets—and in exchange, Torch remains independent… at least for now. The town’s wealth and very existence is dependent on the grand fire that gave the town its name. Unfortunately, eight days ago, the torch was snuffed out.
A pall of desperation and uncertainty has settled on the once proud town. Near the back of the square, on a wooden podium, stands an aged dwarven lady dressed in fine grey silks. An odd device consisting of a black ball on the end of a bent piece of steel is before her mouth. She clears her throat, and the sound echoes through a curious-looking set of horns on a wooden pole high above the square. ”Folks, could I have your attention, please?” The dwarf says in an aged but commanding voice, her expression one of utmost seriousness. The people in the market square stop to listen as her voice is amplified by the horns on the pole. ”Thank you. Now, I know you all have been waiting for some good news, especially after the last expedition came back with some results.” The lady wrinkles her nose as a breeze blows by. ”Unfortunately, all I’ve got is worse news.” ”Councillor Baine has gone missing.” That bit of clearly unwelcome news sends a panicked murmur through the crowd. ”Yep, it's just as bad as it sounds. Councilor Baine was—excuse me, IS—one of the only folks in town to have come back from venturing under the Black Hill to see what's wrong. He didn't get very far in the first time around, but it was enough to give us a desperately needed spark of hope.” ”Unfortunately, the second expedition he led underneath the town has failed to report in. And what little time we have to fix our Torch is running out.” The dwarf sighs. ”If we don’t fix our Torch in two weeks’ time, we won’t have enough taxes to send to the League. And if we don’t have enough taxes to send…” She pauses for effect before clearing her throat again. ”…I have no idea what they’ll have planned for us if we don’t pay our dues, but I sure as the Hells don’t want to find out, and I’ll wager neither will any of you.” ”This town needs to mount another expedition under the Black Hill, this time with two objectives: finding Khonnir Baine, and fixing whatever the Hells has gone wrong with our Torch. Without either of them, this town might as well not be on the map anymore.” The lady folds her hands behind her back. Some of the crowd starts jeering as they disperse. “To hell with this town! I should've known it wouldn't last ten years!” “Maybe Hajoth Hakados will be a better place to live…” “What are we going to do now?” The dwarven lady says nothing as the crowd disperses.
Hello, players! This here's the discussion thread for what I hope will be a great Iron Gods PbP campaign here on the boards. :) I've run the first adventure of this AP before, but alas, we made it about 2/3rds of the way through before real life decided to kidnap many of my players. So, here's a rundown of what my CharGen rules are: Races: Any Core & Featured, plus Androids and Flaming Crab Games' Trius Vrai, better known as 'Murder Bunnies'. Classes: The following classes are disallowed: Antipaladin & Vigilante (mainly because I feel the Vigilante is ill-suited to this AP). Alignment: Any, but Non-Evils preferred. Starting Gold: Max for your class. Stat Generation!: Finally, the meat of the process. I'll let you have two options: 4d6 with dropping the lowest, or 20-point buy. You may use 20-point buy if your roll results have less than a 20-point buy. Traits!: One from the Iron Gods Player's Guide, one other Trait. You may take a 3rd trait in exchange for a Drawback. XP Track?: None. You'll level up at appropriate points in the campaign's story. HP on Level-Up?: You'll start with Max HP at 1st level, then take the best of 2 rolls on level-up. Let's try to have a minimum of skill overlap. I'm looking for about 4 players to join. 
Hello Paizo boards! My party has recently completed the first chapter of the Jade Regent adventure path, and is in need of a new party member: specifically, a dedicated Divine Caster! Our current roster is as follows: --Friday Daud: a human ranger (yojimbo; it's a 3rd-party archetype) (Campaign Trait: Childhood Crush *Ameiko*)
What are the character creation guidelines for this? --20 pt buy, and a 4th-level PC!
Recruitment will stay open until Saturday, Sep. 17th.
"And so our tale begins." "I wish I could tell you that it began in happier times--when the thought of one's mortality was not foremost in a man's mind. Perhaps, in another time, it would begin amid revelry and intoxication, and its protagonists bound together by bonds of friendship forged of steely resolve." "But, it was not to be. Instead, our would-be heroes have come together on the most somber of occasions: a funeral in a lonely, Ustalavic hamlet. A final, sorrowful remembrance of a man they once knew, as a friend, confidant, or employer."
The early morning sun does little to soothe the harsh Lamashan chill as the funeral procession gathers at the entrance to the Restlands of Ravengro. There are few people in attendance: mostly the town's councilors and the dearly departed professor's daughter. The black mourner's garb that everyone is dressed in keeps the cold at bay, however slightly. A large, masterfully-carved casket of fine rosewood sits upon the entrance to the Dreamwake, one of the paths that winds its way through the graveyard. No images are carved into the casket's sides or lid: it appears that the professor cared little for such extravagances. The professor's daughter, Kendra, leans over the casket and stares forlornly at it, her hands neatly folded, but trembling. Making their way up the dusty, windswept road is a band of four people, each of them markedly outlandish in bearing, if not dress. A young woman with a thrush perched on her shoulder, another older woman walking with a quiet, prideful stride, and two men, both with the countenances of beasts. One is dressed in patchwork, earth-stained hides and with a face that many would call monstrous--bald, with a fanged mouth and a corpselike pallor. The other man strides forward, standing tall and strong with the tusks and greenish skin of an orc. The councilors wrinkle their noses as they see the new arrivals, with some of the more skittish ones shying away from the two men as they step forward. Only Kendra walks up to greet them. "Thank you all for arriving here--I hoped we would meet under more pleasant circumstances."
Here's the Discussion Thread for my Carrion Crown game.
It is with great regret that I write you this letter, for the unthinkable has happened. My father, Petros Lorrimor, Professor Emeritus of the University of Lepidstadt, has suddenly & tragically passed away. As I was busy sorting out his final affairs, I discovered that he has named you as a beneficiary in his will. Please come to the village of Ravengro in Ustalav for the funeral. Sincerely,
Hello, Paizo Boards! I've got a hankering to run the Carrion Crown Adventure Path--or at least the first book. To that end, I'm looking for 4 PCs to play with. Without further ado, here are the Character Generation Rules I will be using for this: Method: 20-Point Buy Races: Core & the following: Changeling, Dhampir, Orc. Other races may be considered with a good enough background. Alignments: Any Non-Evil. Classes: No Antipaladin, Ninja, Samurai, or Vigilante. Occult classes are especially appropriate for this AP. Starting Wealth: Average for your class. HP Rolls: Max for 1st level, then half + CON +1 upon levelling up. Traits: 2, with 1 being a Campaign Trait. You may take a Drawback for a 3rd trait. XP Track: Medium Recruitment ends Saturday, July 9th, 9:00 PM Atlantic Standard Time.
Hello Paizo boards. :) I have a bit of a problem. One of my players was forced to drop from my campaign in the middle of Brinewall Castle. The party has slain Kikonu, befriended Zaiobe, and are now in the middle of clearing out the rest of the dungeon to discover the source of Ameiko's coma. I'm considering recruiting a replacement for him, but I'm pondering how to handle the point where End of Book 1 Spoilers:
the PCs find the Amatatsu Seal and open it. Does anyone have any suggestions? I'd very much like to hear them.
Hello Paizo boards! As the title of the thread says, my Iron Gods campaign is in need of new players. Two, to be exact--our barbarian has decided to bow out of the campaign and our cleric has gone AWOL. We need a strong sword-arm and a devout divine caster to see us through! Our current roster is as follows: --Dejah Simin: a Changeling Archaeologist with more than a passing interest in exploring Torch's ruins;
The party has recently reached 2nd level and entered the Habitat Module. The Character Creation rules are as follows:
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