Hello everyone. I received a message from Amandine requesting that I return. I departed due to a lot of pressure from juggling too much d&d, and I'd be interested in returning now that that burden has lifted.
"Wonderous! No need to count them out now, I believe you. Just one moment, please." Says the disembodied voice of Ozi. A few moments later, a cozy cottage pops into existence, which looks quite out of place considering the... environment. However, This two-story cottage is surrounded by flower bushes of pinks and reds and soft purples, which help soften the limestone first floor. The second floor is made of white-washed wattle and dorb, but the purple-tinged, almost velvety thatched roof folds over the second floor like a cuddly blanket. Two chimneys made of brick rise from the cottage, and its beautiful stained glass windows glow from the inner fireplace light to depict dragons, knights, and prophets that seem to dance with the flickering firelight. The large oak door swings open with a creak to reveal a middle-aged man with tanned skin, a blue beard, and golden eyes, all under a turban woven from golden thread. He smiles warmly as he bids the group inside. "Come in, my friends. Let us forget the worries of life if just for a moment. Relax and be welcome."
The voice replies quite happily
Suddenly, each creature sees a magic item appear in front of them, which immediately fits itself over their previous equipment. After accepting these "temporary gifts", the group slice and dice the rest of their undead enemies with minimal injury, though there is some fatigue. The Trolls, who've had their spears enhanced, take a moment to regenerate and eat some food. They speak well of the small folk, and show genuine admiration before deciding that they will travel back into the depths of the forest, and start a new Troll family, who will do their best to be friendly with the short folk if one ever crosses their path. Aggah:
You are bestowed what is called the Otyugh Armor of Burps and Farts. It is a set of +1 Hide Armor made from hideous green otyugh hide with all sorts of blisters and tumours. It functions exactly the same as the Otyugh Hide, but the DCs are calculated using 10 + half your level + your Constitution modifier. Bacon:
You are bestowed two Tusk Rings made of solid iron, which are engraved with runes from Stone Giants. Your gore attacks are treated as magical for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction, and you can Bull Rush and Overrun without provoking attacks of opportunity. Whenever you charge to make a gore/bullrush/overrun attack, you do not take a penalty to your AC. Cleo:
You are bestowed the Bow of the White Stag, which looks like one massive white antler strung with a thread of pure moonlight. It functions as a +2 Merciful Shortbow. Since you are small, you can treat this as if it were a small-sized longbow, however, it has the range of a shortbow. The bow comes with the following 2 abilities: 1. When you cast a harmless divine spell, you can shoot a spiritual arrow as part of the casting to deliver the spell. You will have to make an attack roll, but the ally's AC is treated as 10 (not including things like range increments, prone condition, etc). A natural 1 does result in the wasting of the spell, but a natural 20 results in the spell gaining the Blissful Spell Metamagic. 2. You can focus your channel energy into a spiritual arrow and shoot it as part of your action. An ally's AC is still treated as 10 like before, but if you target an undead, it counts as a touch attack. The healing/damage is maximized, and does double on a natural 20. A natural 1 again does result in the wasting of the channel energy. Furnok:
You are bestowed a set of armor called Mithril Breastplate of the Silver Spike. The breastplate is covered in magical spikes that count as silver. You treat it exactly like a +1 Grinding Mithral Breastplate. Kemras:
You are bestowed a new rapier called the Rapier of Scrutinizing. Although it isn't a sentient item, it does occasionally make general snide remarks when someone fails in their attempt to do something. The Rapier functions as a +1 Keen Rapier, but has 2 special properties. 1. When you use Studied Combat on a target, you immediately learn the general fighting style and capabilities of the target. The GM will tell you what their combat feats are, what their BAB and physical abilities are, and what kinds of abilities they have (including a general overview of prepared spells). 2. If the target of your Studied Combat has been identified by you (such as if you succeeded on a Knowledge check), then you gain one of the following benefits (GM's choice) for as long as your studied combat bonus lasts.
Wabbit:
You are bestowed with some funky feathered shoes. They have little hooks at the bottom. They're called Shoes of the Road Runner. As long as you don't wear medium or heavy armour, your land movespeed increases by 10 feet. You also gain the Run feat. Three times per day (as a swift action), you can grant yourself one of the following abilities. These abilities last for 1 minute, and you can't have more than one active at a time (though you can cancel one for another). - Blur - You can high jump 15 ft, and long jump 30 feet. Both of these can be extended with acrobatics checks. - Invisibility, which renews itself each time you move at least 20 feet) - Spider Climb - Water Walking - Surfaces you are on treat you as if you only weighed 1 pound The voice says "Well done! If you require accommodations for rest, I shall grant you one of my cosiest sanctuaries for a minor fee. Please note that if the Night Hag escapes during your rest, I may be able to teleport you to her for a substantially larger fee."
Hello peoples, I'm here and I'll get a post up shortly. Thank you for your extreme patience
Because the (brown) guard isn't wearing armour, Bazzle's lightning spear does devestating damage to the man and paralyses him long enough for Vandomir to put an arrow through his throat.
Vandomir fires three shots at the (purple) guard, with the last two impacting and nearly killing him. Bazzle nearly electrocutes himself with the magic spear, but Rexandi places a misfortune curse on the (negative) guard. The (purple) guard closes the door. On the other side, the (negative) guard takes a step back and draws his crossbow, while the (brown) guard takes his place. The (brown) guard makes a defensive strike against Aster, but there's just no way he could hit her without getting very lucky. When Tasha frees herself, the prison bursts to life. The prisoners start hollering that they want to be freed too. Even Octavio is paying attention, watching keenly to see what she does next. Unfortunately, as Tasha begins to celebrate, she sees two guards run into the prison, likely to deal with whatever noise is happening further down. They both see Tasha, and take up arms. One of the guards is the Warden, easily recognized by her mithral chain armour. It's Warden Sabo, the Spider.
Dice Rolls:
Troll Lore:
The average adventurer knows Trolls to be lean, rabid, terrifyingly powerful monsters. Kill it with fire or acid, most are told. This is all true, but more specifically for the lowly male Troll. Trolls grow up in family units, which is lead by a male and includes multiple females who are usually related. When a male troll is born, it is raised to puberty, at which point it is immediately expelled from the collective. Such young trolls must travel through hostile territory to find food and survive. Though a Troll may be able to regenerate their body, the toll on food is extremely high. Most Trolls are not slain, but rather starve to death. Should a young male Troll survive long enough, he may find a new family. The young male Troll challenges the older male, and if he successfully kills or ejects the older troll, he gets to mate with the females until a new challenger eventually evicts him in turn. However, female Trolls are no pushovers, and are more than happy to rip the new leader apart should his ambitions not fall in line with the desires of the women. While the male trolls hone their battle skills, the females work as hunters, crafters, and oracles. They often trade with other races, such as Giants and Orcs, and are even accepted by deep forest dwellers such as Fey and Dragons. Trolls and Ogres have a deep-seated hatred for one another, but often live far enough apart to not be in big competition over resources (normally food). The best way to defend oneself from a male Troll is to feed it. A male Troll is willing to eat anything, but prefers fatty animals (and humanoids). Baring that, using fire or acid is enough to dissuade most Trolls from attacking a human, who wouldn't normally be worth the food to regenerate after all that damage. To defend oneself from a female Troll, begging for one's life is the only advice beyond running from a significant headstart. Both are very unlikely to succeed.
Hi guys. I'm so very sorry about this major delay. I'm happy, I'm healthy, I'm so very overwhelmed. I have new friends, new romance, constant changing of my decisions for a professional life. I finally got sponsored for my disabilities through the government, which covers my expensive medication and more. It's just so much. I'm really trying to think hard about how this game will continue. I would like it to continue. I would like to finish some time this decade. I'm not sure how. I think I need to seriously re evaluate how to organise and run this game, and let got of previous beliefs around how to run in PBP. You guys are in my thoughts, and you're welcome to make suggestions and leave comments here. We will continue, in the very near future, but I don't feel confident on promising a time at this moment. I hope you're all doing well.
Vandomir absolutely annihilates the first guard entering from the Northern door with his three shots. Bazzle attempts to attack the guard behind the one that just fell, but his dagger doesn't seem to get through the guard's breastplate, and the lightning is blocked by his shield. Despite the shield being metal, it seems it doesn't conduct enough to cause any serious pain. Aster continues fighting the unarmoured guard, but he put himself into a defensive stance and thus blocks both attacks with his shield. Back in the cells, Tasha tries to use whatever she has to create a lever to bust down her cell door. It's a very difficult task, but Tasha might be able to figure it out. Octavio, seems to be watching Tasha, but doesn't make any effort of escape himself.
Crack of Lightning rules: This +1 shocking shortspear is made entirely out of impure copper, beaten and sharpened into shape. It occasionally zaps small insects or parasites as it's carried around, and sometimes flashes symbols in druidic. Once per round, the wielder can target a creature within 50 feet to zap with the Crack of Lightning. The wielder makes a ranged attack as if throwing the spear, only for the spear to animate into a bolt of lightning and strike the target. It then appears in the hand of the wielder again. Such an attack deals 1d12+1 electricity damage and crits on a 20 x3. This shortspear has the brace property when used two-handed. If the wielder is struck by an electricity attack while bracing, they reduce the damage taken by 1d6+1, to a minimum of 0. Small sized creatures can wield the Crack of Lightning as a small sized spear. From <https://paizo.com/campaigns/HellsRebelsAdventurePath/gameplay&page= 104>
The group make a tactical retreat into the woodlands in order to rest and recuperate. It is only a few minutes before they hear the sound of hooves and a gentle musical effect, similar to chimes blowing in the wind. A white horse gracefully slows down and stops a few feet from the group, with a silky white mane and a pointy white horn. The unicorn nods respectfully, then turns around to escort the party further into the woods. It leaves no hoofprints as it walks.
The unicorn leads the group a long ways into the woods. Sounds of wildlife are abundant, as the creatures seem to show no fear of the humanoids around the unicorn. Deer walk right past the group, squirrels bicker in the trees, and a hedgehog searches for food nearby.
The unicorn leads the group to a small hill rising from the forest floor. Through the slight mist surrounding it, the group sees that standing upon the hill is the trunk of a large oak tree, which was cut or broken about 10 feet up. The tree itself is dead, but vines and flowers grow around and on top of it in abundance. One side of the tree has vines draping over an entryway, which is flanked by two giant roots. A small collection of skulls rest nearby, with topsoil scrapped off.
Furnok refuses and returns to the "secret" tunnel, fervently prioritizing his health and safety rather than progressing into yet more combat. If the rest of the party wishes for Furnok's aid, they will need to help alleviate his fears, likely with the promise of healing, protection from goblin soul bombs, and a long nap.
"Don't worry about me. Do what you need to do!" Olivia shouts. She moves away from the swarm, then stares at Telus with burning radiant eyes. "By the light of the Inheritor, I smite you!" She yells. Armed with only a torch and a shield, Olivia whips the torch up at the man-made-monster.
@GM, do you have a preference between rolling hp and taking 1/2+1?
The group decide to exit the Wasp Nest, funnelling out to the Villegre district. It's morning time, and people are getting ready for a long day of work.
Cleo drinks the potion of Commune with Birds. After tweeting out her intentions, she waits by the waterfall for any reply. It takes a moment, but she hears a rather aggressive "Hoo Hooooo!" before three snowy owls slip around the waterfall and into the cave. Perching on anything or anyone nearby, one of the large owls hoots "Hoo has a question? One of the hoomans?"
Let's open that list a bit. The themes are Moon, and Wererat. - Bat, Dire
Jakardros scrambles up the remainder of the cliffside. He drops his backpack in the cave, ready to retrieve a rope for his allies. "Rope comin down in just a moment!" He yells. Kaven crawls out of the water, but he seems quite nervous about the goblins nearby. With him emerges Wabbit, but his cousin Cleo can't even be seen in the water. Bacon leaps back in to find her. He swims almost the entire way back, before spotting Cleo's red hair at the bottom.
Kemras casts a spell on himself to become a talented climber, and sure enough, it makes the difference. That being said, the rabble of goblins gets closer, and continues raining down tons of sling stones, pelting almost everyone. Kemras gets smacked in the back, and even with his spell, fumbles with his grip. Fortunately, he was barely 5 feet up to begin with, and lands on his feet.
Just as Kaven's feet touch the group, Jakardros tosses down the end of a unknotted rope. "Climb up!" He yells.
Dice Rolls:
Climb positions: Cleo: Bottom of creek, 20/60ft, 20/24 breath Bacon: Underwater, 20/60ft, 35/36 breath Jakardros: In cave with rope Everyone else: Bottom of cliff
"That was the weirdest... thing... I've ever seen. Wait, why do these rats all have their tails tied together? What sick person would do that?" Being in the back, Kilarra takes out her crossbow and loads it. She puts her foot on her greatsword, careful not to leave it untouched.
The Ogres throw javelins at the swimming group, but all of their power falls apart upon hitting the water. The look at Wabbit and Cleo, and one of them says
Giant:
"Aww, look at the little people! Look at his tiny swordy-stick, and she's got a iddy biddy suit of chainmail. Adorable! Hey! You two! How long have ya been together? You got any kids? I bet you got like a dozen little people little kids. I'm a mom of 3 meself!"
Dice Rolls:
Swim positions: Kemras: Underwater, 20/60ft, 19/20 breath Jakardros: Underwater, 5/60ft, 15/16 breath Kaven: Underwater, 5/60ft, 11/12 breath Aggah: Underwater, 20/60ft, 23/24 breath
The group decides to settle down and sleep some more to remove their fatigue. Kemras does a little scout of the area, and sees that the Kreegwoods gradually disperse into grassy hills to the North. Far in the distance, he sees Fort Rannick, a dreary-looking castle built into the mountainside. With the aid his elven heritage, he manages to hear a very faint, high-pitch clink every few seconds. It's almost rhythmic, but not quite. Being downwind, Kemras also smells all sorts of nasty scents, but the scent of death and decay are certainly part of it. At camp, despite the group's best efforts to remain hidden, something has managed to notice their arrival. A small white horse, only a few hands taller than the average pony walks at a slow and graceful pace, staring at the party with a sideways glance. The horse has a long ivory horn sprouting from the center of its head, and a short white goatee from its chin. Obvious to all, the unicorn approaches the group calmly and with supernatural grace. Aggah's knees wobble in fear of the spikey warhorse, but Cleo feels nothing but ease and serenity. Cleo:
Cleo doesn't exactly hear a voice, but rather simply gains an understanding of what the unicorn wants. Intuitively, she understands that the unicorn feels evil spreading across the woods and hillside. It wishes to cleanse the wood of evil, but cannot do so by itself. If Cleo is willing to champion the cause, the unicorn will aid Cleo by healing the sick and wounded, warning her of danger, and keeping her pony safe. Unicorns:
Skill Checks: Stealth (take 10) Furnok is 12 Bacon is 11 Cleo is 18 Aggah is 26 Kemras is 25 Wabbit is 22 Jakardros is 16 Kaven is 13
Don't worry, I'll bring the others with you.
"Horse meat's a... a deli... delicate. No. It's a yum." Kilarra tries to convey with as much dignity as she can. "Shut up. I know the word. I just can't say it right now." But as she looks at the spoiling carcass, she says "But not when it's raw. These red-eyes are like some sort of crazed cannibals or something." Kilarra suggests going upstairs, but not downstairs.
Cleo diligently sets about her work as the men wrap themselves in blankets. As Kaven puts wraps the blanket around his waist, Kemras and Wabbit notice that he's got the sihedron rune tattooed on his wrist. Furnok goes about making a fire, while Cleo gets to work scrubbing clothes. There's no magic available to make the job easier, and no tub either. The only thing that Cleo can find is soap. So she uses the balcony of the watchtower to wash and scrub at the clothes, making sure not to tear them any further. Though she doesn't have any tailoring skill, she does have enough leatherworking knowledge to patch up the rips and tears.
Most of the crates and containers of the watchtower have already been rooted through, leaving very little food. The group is able to find carrots, cabbage, and leeks. All the meat has been taken, and it seems the Ogres don't like their vegetables. There is also a basic tailor's kit, several whetstones, a handful of square nails, a cooking kit, carpenter's tools, three backpacks, a wooden holy symbol of Erastil, a book of amateur poetry, and half a dozen letters addressed to Kaven.
The Ogre hesitates and starts counting on his fingers. Giant: "Uhhhm, oh I got lots. I did all the killing here. Probably fourlimbs of hoommies, and most of em were fighters. That's just the last few days, y'know?" Kemras knows that the Ogre is lying and inflating the numbers to sound impressive. He certainly did not kill that many people by himself, and the likelihood that he did it fairly is even lower. Fourlimbs is the giant version of twenty. They count in fives, and there are five fingers/toes on a human or ogre's limb, so they call five a "limb". They might call twenty a "body", but generally if the number is larger than twenty, they just say "lots".
I'm glad there's a little interest for that campaign! I'll make sure to let you know when I plan to run it. On the topic of after the Cobbled Shield saves the world, I mean we'll cross that bridge when the end is actually in sight, but I do have ideas for how to continue the campaign past level... 16 I think? No, 18th. At this point in time it's not worth writing about, but it's lingering in the back of my head.
Cleo patches up most of Furnok's wound, while Aggah lets fly two arrows. Both arrows sink into the Ogre's belly, totalling now to four, but her little arrows seem to do relatively little to harm such a massive and corpulent creature. Its layers of fat, also known as flubber blubber, protect its vital organs, though its flesh still bleeds. Kemras' long rapier however manages to pierce through enough layers to make a lasting wound, while Wabbit easily weaves his way behind the Ogre to grab it by the belt. As he drives his elongated waveblade into the creature's ribs, the Ogre reactively lets out a nasty passing of gas, reminding the Halfling that Ogres probably don't understand the concept of soap.
The man stops for a second to think about what Bazzle just said. He relaxes, sitting back down, and replies "She's doing well, thanks for asking. Blossoming, so to say. I feel like she's the one, you know. She knows everything about me, and I trust her fully." To Bazzle's question, he says "Well for me, it was love at first sight. I saw the fire in her eyes, watched her hips turn my way, and her smile, that damned smile. I knew from that moment, I was her's." A nearby patron groans and says "You're f!&$in silk-wipes, bud." He moves away from the conversation, as do several others as they're grossed out by the man's gushing. The man in red doesn't even seem to notice. "She has exquisite fashion sense, but expensive tastes. She'd like me to find or commission some magical clothing for her, but I don't have the money, even if I sell all this." He gestures to all his equipment.
Furnok gets up close and personal, before bashing the remaining Ogre in the shoulder. It's a strong hit, but the Ogre's layers of fat help keep him going. He drops the bow to take hold of the billhook in both hands, then takes a small step back to use the polearm's reach. It swings with all its might and Furnok watches in slow motion how the wicked blade catches him by surprise, with the curved tip coming straight for his neck. However, as the blade comes in contact with Furnok's neck, Cleo's barkskin reacts. Furnok's lower face and neck suddenly sprout tangles of hardy roots, weaving around each other to provide protection. The blade sheers some of the roots, but it fails to cut through all of them. As Furnok breathes a sigh of relief, he's surprised when the Ogre deftly flips the billhook for a second strike. This time, it cuts into Furnok's armour with an ear-grating scrape, though Furnok's midsection is untouched.
Hello everyone, I have returned. I had a pretty good trip, but was happy to return home. I spent a significant amount of time plotting a campaign I've been meaning to create for years now. It's an all-Dwarf campaign centered around taking back the Sky Citadel located in the Hold of Belkzen, followed by a deep deep dive underground to the origins of the Dwarves. Looking at levels 7-20+. Not sure when I'll run it, but one day. Looks like no 5th. Not an issue at all
Hello everyone, I have returned. I had a pretty good trip, but was happy to return home. I spent a significant amount of time plotting a campaign I've been meaning to create for years now. It's an all-Dwarf campaign centered around taking back the Sky Citadel located in the Hold of Belkzen, followed by a deep deep dive underground to the origins of the Dwarves. Looking at levels 7-20+. Not sure when I'll run it, but one day. Anyways, I see we haven't had much happen while I was away. It seems this conversation isn't working out to anything of substance. I was hoping Bazzle had some sort of plan or question when he asked to meet up.
I've added Newt to the Allies Powerpoint
Excellent job you guys, keep it up. I'll take the opportunity to talk to Bazzle about how the bombs thing is going to work. So I know that you have a feature that allows you to make a certain number of bombs per day. Here's what I'm thinking: Since you don't have anything else to prepare per day (like wizard spells or something), we can have you prepare bombs. You plan out ahead of time which bombs are going to be frost bombs, acid bombs, etc. This could be done during the morning, or you could opt to spend say 15 mins doing it later in the day. Now you may be wondering "why's he giving me the equivalent of at least one discovery for free?" and the reason is because I like you, but, make no mistake, I'm still going to put a balance in here. If you learn to make a bomb that normally requires a discovery (such as frost bombs), they deal half damage (rounded down). I'll deal with other bomb types when we cross that bridge, but we'd be looking at balances like lower DCs, lower CL, etc. I still want you to get the discoveries, but I see a cool opportunity to give you variety.
It's definitely frustrating, both as a player or a GM, to have a player just disappear without a trace. That being said, I brought in an extra player just in case someone left, so it didn't hurt the game. I try to keep some compassion for the player who leaves. We don't know what's going on in their world. Sure they might have bailed because they gave up, and didn't want to tell the groups, but they also might have died. We have no way of knowing.
There are also players who return. Sometimes they do fade in and out until I have to kick them, but there are others who actually stay dedicated. I would like to acknowledge those rare few who come back and stay. I'm just happy to have people play these games with me. The ones who stick around are awesome, and I genuinely cherish them. I tell stories about them to my family (who do not care at all, and I know they do not care, and I tell them anyways).
"That's the b$!**!" Kilarra exclaims. "Alright. We got enough time to go to the hill?"
The woman packs the strudles in a little box for Rexandi. When she hands the box to her, her hands (albeit with gloves) touch Rexandi's. She smiles and appologizes, but it seems she has no qualms at all about Tieflings.
Hello, this is Skender son of Garridan. He's a NG human of mixed Varisian and Shoanti heritage. He's a druid (restorer) who might multiclass into the Green Faith prestige class. He's got a small cat animal companion (a red lynx named Chase). He's got the Worm Chaser campaign trait. I've left him fairly versatile at the moment, and once I get a sense of where everyone in the party is going I'll refine him as he levels up. For now, I'm expecting him to be a primary healer with spontaneous cure spells and goodberry, but he's not a squishy healer. This backstory is first draft, but I'd like to pitch it to you. Character stats will follow tomorrow. Thank you for your consideration Skender's Father, Garridan (warnings: sexual abuse, suicide, addiction. Non-graphic):
Skender's father's name was Garridan. Garridan was born and raised in Korvosan society. He was raised in an orphanage, with no exposure to his people's culture. He moved to Diamond Lake during the mining boom, and worked as a miner. He first saw Iolana dancing in a tavern, and developed an unhealthy fascination with her. One night, he snuck to her room through a window, and took advantage of her. Her neighbors heard the commotion, and drove him out to the guards. He spent three months in an oubliette before his trial came. It was decided, since Iolana was with child, that he'd marry Iolana and raise the child. Iolana tried to oppose the decision, but the town used this technique to create workers who are desperate for coin. Garridan and Iolana were hastily married the next day, and Garridan was sent back to the mines the day after. It was a brutal marriage bound by debt and child-rearing. Garridan would work six days straight, then return home on the seventh. For the first four years, he went through life in a complete daze. He knew next to nothing about his wife or his son. He drank whiskey and chewed pesh to keep some semblance of sanity. One day, while working in the mines, there was a collapse. Garridan was badly hurt and starved, but he was found alive. After the chance with Death, Garridan tried to turn his life around. He took a position as a labourer, which paid less but was safer. Now with his family every night, he tried learning more. He spent little bits of time taking care of his son while Iolana cooked, and taught him how to play pigskin. Over many years, his relationship with his son, and later his wife, drastically improved. He sired twin girls when Skender was eight, and got a promotion as a manager. He resolved to stop drinking, and chewing pesh when Skender was eleven, but he never managed. On nights where he caved, he would binge on anything he could find, and later come home angry and violent. He lost his job, though he never told his family. Garridan resorted to armed robbery, but he hung himself the morning after. The note he left only said "I'm sorry". Skender's Mother, Iolana:
Skender's Mother's name is Iolana. She was born in Sandpoint and raised by her mother and father. Her father was a retired adventurer, and her mother was a young settled Varisian. She was only around the age of 5 before her parents divorced, and her father left town. She never saw or heard from him again, and lived with her mother who was kind of like an older sister. She lived a very poor life with her mother as they worked for coppers doing anything they could. When Iolana was 15, she was given a chance to join a caravan, and she jumped at the opportunity. She lived on the caravan for three years with a boyfriend, but things turned sour. She hopped off after a fight, and lived on her own in Diamond Lake. She had met Garridan a few times at a tavern she danced at frequently, but paid little attention to him due to his poor social skills and stench. She was used to dealing with guys like him, but she never expected him to climb in through her window. Iolana was in shock for a couple months after the attack. She decided to stay because she figured the town would make Garridan pay her in some form. Before the third month, she received a letter informing her that her mother had passed away in an ill-fortuned goblin raid. Devastated and alone, Iolana wept and awaited the trial. The sentence was the exact opposite of what she was hoping for, and she sunk into depression. The birth of her baby boy, whom she named Skender, required a midwife to see through. The cost of a Pharasmin priest was too much, so they sent a plea for help from a druid. The druid was a half-elf man from the nearby Circle of Rebirth, who asked for nothing more than a handful of berries. Iolana and Garridan would fight constantly at home, so she was much calmer once he started working six days a week. At least there was money coming in, and she was able to provide for her son. Iolana tried her best to make sure that Skender never learned about the dark truth of his family. Once Garridan passed, Iolana was in a mix of emotions. Money had already been getting tight, and now the primary earner is gone. She turned to Skender for help, but he was in absolute shock at his father's death and went into mourning. Thus, Iolana worked sharpening knives, mending clothes, and the like, with her daughters in tow. During her work, she came upon two orphans. First, a half-elf child placed on the edge of town, and a year later, a half-orc who's parents had passed away. Iolana decided to take in these children as her own, and taught her daughters how to help care for them. With her son all but disappeared, she nursed her grudge and kept herself busy with work. Skender: Skender grew up in Diamond Lake with his mother, father, and twin sisters. He remembers that his father used to be a miner, and his parents would fight anytime his dad was home. But that changed after an accident and his dad worked as a labourer. The family was never perfect, but they got by. Skender would play sports with his dad, and worked around the house with his mom. His parents never showed much affection with each other, but he did get twin sisters. He had a hard time being a big brother to the girls, as he showed too much aggression when playing. Most of the time when his chores were done, he'd rather go out with his friends to play, or hang out with his father. One day, Skender and his friends came upon an old monk or priest meditating on a mat under a tree, and wearing white robes. His friends got the idea to throw a bucket of mud on the monk, and Skender joined in due to peer pressure. They threw the bucket at him, and though they missed, a small amount of muck sprayed onto the monk. The monk calmly stood up, walked towards them, and smiled. He asked what he could do for them. The gang of kids ran away, but Skender was always curious about the old man. Skender knew his dad had drug and drinking problems, and in the later years things got really tense. He and his sisters bonded somewhat during that time, as they shared a room and hunkered down in the night. He never ended up in a fight with his dad, but he'd be cleaning up the mess the next morning. When his father committed suicide, Skender was the first to find him. He was devastated. He isolated himself in depression, refusing to do more than eat and sleep. About two weeks in, he suddenly walked out of the house and went to a random church. He asked to see a priest, and asked what became of his father's soul. The priest, who happened to know Garridan, said plainly that Garridan would be judged by Pharasma, and sent to Hell, or maybe some place similar. Skender bottled up his emotions, and walked out of the church. He didn't believe his dad could possibly end up in Hell, even though he wasn't a perfect man. Then he remembered the monk, now from years prior. He walked over to the edge of town where he first encountered the monk, and sure enough, there he sat. He walked over to the monk, who he noticed was actually a half-elf. There he asked what became of his father, and the monk replied that his spirit is being given another chance. Garridan will one day be reborn, naturally, without the use of magic. It may be centuries from now, or maybe tomorrow. His memories will be repressed, but his soul will be the same. The monk invited Skender for tea at his home, and explained that he was a druid who retreated from his life in the circle to become a hermit. After multiple pots of tea, the Druid, who's name was Willow, offered to introduce Skender to the Circle of Rebirth. Skender agreed, and set off the next morning with Willow to meet them. There he trained for 3 years in community, with only a few infrequent visits to his family. Each time he visited, he felt more and more guilty for not providing for them. One day, Willow asked Skender to care for an animal he found alone without its mother. It was abandoned, or perhaps the mother passed away, but the creature was too young to survive on its own. Skender agreed, and was given a red lynx, often called a bobcat. Skender figured raising a bobcat would be the same as a domestic cat, though he'd never done that either, and he was mostly right. The bobcat had many cat-like traits. It liked to play and hunt, chase, eat, take long naps, and refuse to listen. It was great at the last one. Skender watched in amazement as other druids showed their animal training abilities, but he really struggled. In the end, the other druids did combat training, and Skender kept to the regular commands. He named the bobcat Chase, for no other reason than because he loved to chase. Skender got to meet Nogwier upon his druidic trials, and was drilled in basic combat training to become a defender against the Age of Worms. Skender never really understood the worms part, but he was happy to train in combat, and his fellow circle were very against undeath. After his basic training was complete, Skender went to visit his family and tell them what he accomplished. He was met with loathing from his mother, and even his sisters were upset with him. They cared not about his magic, status, or abilities. They wanted money for all the years he abandoned them. He gave what little he had, but it was not enough. Ashamed, he left the family and returned to the druids. He worked with his circle to make some armour for him, and he purchased a few cheap items like a short spear and a shield. After slaying a few zombies, he learned that an adventuring group was preparing to set out in a desperate attempt to gain money. Figuring they were poor like his family, he decided to offer his services. But then it dawned on him that he could use some of that money to pay back his mother, and be rid of his guilt. Thus a druid, who was perfectly capable of living in nature, joined the party.
Kilarra uses her hoof to stomp once on each mound, as if she were 'knocking' at the grave. "Anyone else got a problem with me?" She says
wow is right. I looked up the stats for Laria that I first wrote... in December of 2014. Absolutely insane feeling. I was right there with the OG players. We were bright eyed and bushy tailed. I remember reading Hell's Rebels In Hell's Bright Shadow for the first time. I was absolutely ecstatic, and somewhat infuriated. I remember Kethaera hollering directly at Barzillai Thrune for the rights of Ratfolk (which evolved into Skritt when I started playing Guild Wars 2). I remember Pylos rallying to save Nisha from the Strix, only for Nisha to stand over his broken body and protect him with her life. I remember Philip collecting the scalps of his enemies, and that dreaded were-capybara fight. So many memories. Bittersweet. Most of them just up and left without a word. Some of them expressed disagreement with my GMing style or adjudication. Some tried their best, but their heart wasn't in it. 400 posts. 700 posts. 900 posts. We did things, we had fun. Many of their actions live on today. These ripples from old splashes.
An elf who's had too many human friends. But we forge ahead, with new heroes becoming the next seasoned veterans. New stories and adventures with wonderful and creative characters.
And I do enjoy it. I'm just taking a moment to remember, everyone that came before.
Kilarra sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "If you say so. Here's what I'll say."
By the end of it, it's clear that Kilarra's been holding it in for a long time, but she doesn't look happy. Instead she grimaces, and finishes by removing eye contact and stuffing an entire pancake into her mouth.
I haven't forgotten your question, Aster. I think it's time we talk about the Rat Catchers. The Rat Catchers were certainly a diverse group with various motives, but only two were non-evil. Very difficult to justify their actions, but to their point of view, it's probably little worse than doing a dungeon crawl.
I thought about if there were ways to peacefully deal with the situation.
Those are my thoughts around the Rat Catcher's decision to attack.
Theedor answers "Oh! I knows of him. Long brown hair, strong jawline, wears a red sash. Good lookin young man. He comes into town e'ery now an den fer supplies. Y'know, he's bound to show up here bout anyday I reckon." Evening shows many patrons entering the bar, making it fairly cramped. Mostly young men and women of mixed heritage down ales and two-step to the playing bards, who're not on pay or anything, just friendly folk who brought their instruments. A Gnome stands at the front to prestidigitate cloaks and clean ale spills. In the back room, a group of men play cards, gambling coppers and silvers while they drink and smoke.
Rain batters those outside as the thunderclouds roll over Turtleback Ferry. There are a few comments of how suddenly the storm appeared, but thankfully harvest was finished a month ago, so the fields are completely safe. Late into the night, Galt makes the last call. The remaining townsfolk finish their games, their drinks, and stumble into the night. There's a cute, but awkward scene of a young man trying to offer his date his cloak for the rain, but they're both so inebriated that they can barely get their point across. In the end they both drape the cloak over their heads, and stumble into the doorframe before getting outside.
Kilarra nods, pretending to understand, then goes back to hauling.
@Wabbit, I haven't forgotten about your climbing tattoo, I've just put it on the backburner for the moment.
I used to believe that everyone needed to be in the spotlight and take the lead in their moment. But in truth, there are plenty of people who prefer a more supportive playstyle, who don't want to be front and center. It's not just about posting rate, but about player personality and playstyle. We're not all leaders or thespians, and I believe that's totally fine.
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