Tsiron Ragmar's page

Organized Play Member. 320 posts (1,027 including aliases). No reviews. No lists. No wishlists. 13 aliases.

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Female Human Wordcaster Sorcerer (Sage) 1 | Init +4 | Perc -1 | AC: 12 Tch: 12 FF: 10 | Ref: +2 Fort: +0 Will: +1 | HP: 6/6 | quarterstaff +0 (1d6) | CMB +0 | CMD: 12
1st Level: 4/4

*Uses Paizo Boards magic to cast guidance, resistance, and bear's endurance upon Tactic's wife to boost her Fort save.*

Wishing you wife well also!

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Female Human Wordcaster Sorcerer (Sage) 1 | Init +4 | Perc -1 | AC: 12 Tch: 12 FF: 10 | Ref: +2 Fort: +0 Will: +1 | HP: 6/6 | quarterstaff +0 (1d6) | CMB +0 | CMD: 12
1st Level: 4/4

Hmmm... I wonder... I bet Wicket and Rav would love that!... Just need to find the parts...

DM, crazy idea. PM incoming.

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Female Human Wordcaster Sorcerer (Sage) 1 | Init +4 | Perc -1 | AC: 12 Tch: 12 FF: 10 | Ref: +2 Fort: +0 Will: +1 | HP: 6/6 | quarterstaff +0 (1d6) | CMB +0 | CMD: 12
1st Level: 4/4

Analise's face drops even further. "Then maybe we're in deeper #!^% than I thought we were. Oi." She rubs her face. "Okay, so if Zyphus' game is to cause accidental and pointless deaths, then his clerics probably have unluck magic of some sort to help manipulate fate to create more death. Which means that we're going to have to find Khonnir quickly, before something happens to him."

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Female Human Wordcaster Sorcerer (Sage) 1 | Init +4 | Perc -1 | AC: 12 Tch: 12 FF: 10 | Ref: +2 Fort: +0 Will: +1 | HP: 6/6 | quarterstaff +0 (1d6) | CMB +0 | CMD: 12
1st Level: 4/4

Analise attempts to climb the ledge as well.

Climb Check: 1d20 ⇒ 12

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Female Human Wordcaster Sorcerer (Sage) 1 | Init +4 | Perc -1 | AC: 12 Tch: 12 FF: 10 | Ref: +2 Fort: +0 Will: +1 | HP: 6/6 | quarterstaff +0 (1d6) | CMB +0 | CMD: 12
1st Level: 4/4

Analise sighs. "Yeah, Wicket, I 'spose you're right. It's just that Brian died nearly in the exact same way. I guess I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She cracks a brilliant smile. "Maybe I'm just not used to not having wild, raging hormones running free thrpughout my body. Once we get to Torch, you can ask Val: she knows about my explosive temper."

Once the captain mentions the Technic League, Analise cracks up. "The League?! Why didn't you say so sooner? I hate those pompous asses! If you had told me straight away, I would've thanked you for screwing them over!"[/b] Analise is back in good humor again.

She sits back down. "Kinda funny that so many of us know Khonnir, huh?"

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Hello, guys. I'll be starting an Iron Gods campaign shortly-well, I'll be GMing a game and playing in one. (I know that might ruin the experience, but I'm already about a week behind the GM I'm playing with, so chances are that I won't know things before they happen.)

Anyways, meet Analise Rodhire.

She's smart, sorcerous, sarcastic, and sassy.

Oh, and did I mention that she's from earth?

Prologue: Link START!:

I still remember the day.

That beautiful, terrible, wonderful, tear-jerking day.

Every detail is clear to me even now. The beige walls of my bedroom, the scattered technological gear, the massive, homemade computer on my desk that operated faster than any gaming pro's, the pizza boxes strewn across my shag carpet. The sounds of Brad and Kenny bickering downstairs-most likely their morning routine bickering and &!7$jng about the sides of their room... and oh, yes, ohhhhh yes, that heavenly smell of pancakes! Due to my late night partying, I was barely coherent enough to open my eyes, but the seductive smell wafted into my nostrils, tugging me downstairs.

After lumbering downstairs-nearly falling two times (thank all of the gods everywhere that the wooden stairs had rails)-I sagged into my beat up, badly-needing-reupholtering stuffed chair, groaning. “Fooooood,” I moaned, looking miserable.

Mom looked down at me, exasperated. “I'm guessing you were partying again, judging by the rings under your eyes. Thank the gods your responsible enough to know not to do drugs or drink alchohol, Analise. Anyways, I made pancakes.”

I nodded in gratitude, and I wolfed down a massive stack of the things in 49.12 seconds. I staggered up from the chair and tumbled my way over to the threadbare couch, letting my brain cells atrophy by staring at the TV for a while. After enough express to kill a person of lesser coffee-swilling skills, my tired brain finally remembered it was Launch Day. I burst out of the couch and ran up the stairs with a sound that would've been described in Saturday-morning cartoons as binka-binka-binka.

Bursting through my room door-nearly slipping on three pizza boxes, accidentally spying my portly physique in the mirror that I keep putting off taking down, and crash into my bed, snagging the Riftgear laying on my charred desk, and pulled the bulky helmet on. I had arrived 61.85 seconds before the game went online.

The time slowly went down. As soon as the amazingly accurate clock in my head hit 3, I began the startup process. “3...2...1...SNAP!”

All was nothing for a moment, then white flashed into existence and streams of color raced by. Suddenly, a horrible wrenching began in my gut, and all was nothing again.

That was when I left Earth.

The first thing I felt was pain. And when I say pain, I mean horrible, unrelenting agony that would normally accompany being riddled with bullets, blown up by dynamite thirteen times, and being run through with a sword all at once. Thirty four times in a row. With nerves running at ten times capacity and sensitivity. I will neither confirm nor deny I screamed like a little girl during that time. After what seemed like untold aeons, the pain finally faded away, and I was able to open my eyes. The first thing I noticed that there was no HUD. No health bar, no mana meter, no quickbar... nothing. The second thing I noticed was that I was in a burning laboratory, with men shouting in a strange language, running around, and generally panicking. In a moment of absurdity, I thought Wow. These guys have obviously never read the Hitchhiker's Guide. There was wrecked equipment everywhere-reminescent of my room, actually-and what appeared to have once been sterile white walls were now charred black and grey. A big, strong man picked me up and rushed me out of the lab, out into a hallway. We took quite a dizzying array of twists, turns, and loops that I'm not able to remember what exactly the hallway looked like.

The Hulk-I'm calling him that, since he was that massive-rushed me into a lab, one that wasn't burninating. A harried-looking, greying man in a coat stood their, then attached a strange device to my head. “Can you understand me?”

I nodded dumbly.

“You are part of an experiment to abduct sentients from other planes to learn about their cultures, and add the information to our database. After we are done with our information gathering, we would release you to your home plane, but since you are our first experiment, the equipment had not been properly tested, and now the technology is rendered inoperable. Now, what is your name?”

I wasn't thinking about how this was completely impossible. I wasn't thinking about this had to be some crazy, in-game introduction. I knew in my heart that I was really on another world. What I was thinking about, however, was that I was angry. Very, very angry. How DARE these [bleeping] [bleeps] kidnap me! I was going to escape ASAP, but I didn't want to make the Hulk angry. I had I feeling that I wouldn't like him when he was angry. So, I complied. For now, at least.

“Analise Rodhire. May I ask a question?”

The old man looked at me dubiously-I think I'm going to call him Evil Gandalf-and said flatly “Yes.”

“What is the name of your organization?”

“The Technic League. Now, is your planet capable of interplanetary travel?”

“We're on the brink of it. What is your position within the Technic League?”

At the second question, Evil Gandalf looked slightly annoyed. “Prime Scientist. Does your plane have magic?”

Now this question surprised me. Did this place seriously have magic?!? I tried to retain my composure, and cooly answered. “No. Does your plane have magic?”

“Yes. In fact, I am led to believe that our technological advances our stymied due to intense reliance on it. Now, on to the next question.”

The drilling continued to for hours. I gained information about his world-called Golarion- exchanged for information about mine. Apparently, I was in a country called Numeria, a land of deep contrasts. Due to a starship that fell here long ago, Numeria was extremely advanced compared to the rest of Golarion. Howver, the Technic League tightly controlled the flow of the tech, and so a lot of the place was relatively primitive. Finally, Evil Gandalf said “That was satisfactory. Targon, restrain Analise and take her into the experimentation rooms. I want to see the genetic variances between humans of this plane and hers.”

The Hulk advanced menacingly upon me, and picked me up like a baby. I struggled, squelead, and again, I will neither confirm nor deny I screamed. I was hyperaware when he took me out of the room, looking around at my surroundings. I was in a hall made out of metal, kept scrupulously clean, with blinking lights everywhere. Then, I noticed that the Hulk was... clanking, for lack of a better word. He was a robot. He was a [bleeping] robot. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I started laughing hysterically. A [bleeping] robot. There seemed to be an access panel in his back. I then had an absurd idea. Something that would very likely get me killed. I tried to get to it, but the panel was just barely too far away. Then, I sort of... reached.

It was as if some door in my unconscious was thrown open, and a massive well of energy was in there, just waiting to be used. Somehow, I knew-barely-how to use it, and slowly, excruciatingly, I used the strange telekinetic force I had summoned slide open the access panel and cut wires. It’s “nervous system” went down, I squirmed away, and ran like the wind.

I scurried away through the twisting and turning hallways. Distantly, there was the sound of something exploding, then yelling. The place was a veritable labyrinth, and I had no doubt that would find me before long. Desperate, I made a few turns... then found myself at an apparent back door. I heard metallic clanking behind me that reminded me waaay too much of Cybermen from Doctor Who. I ran at full tilt-surprisingly fast, given my rather chubby frame-threw open the door, and pressed a random combination of buttons that happened to lock the door.

From there, everything was a blur. I had absolutely NO idea how I managed to outrun the Cybermen-was it my imagination, or was I hearing “DELETE. DELETE. DELETE.”?-but I eventually managed to run far away enough-well, more like wobble-to find a small grove of oak trees. Twisted, mutant oak trees who looked like they wanted to eat me, but it was getting dark, and I was willing to hide anywhere.

I wobbled (yeah, in my early days in Golarion constituted of wobbling, thank the gods that casting spells burns a lot more calories than you think) into it, and promptly collapsed.

When I awoke, I was distinctly aware of what appeared to be a living tumbleweed on my chest, sucking out my blood. Screaming-okay, I admit it, I screamed-I drew upon that power again and blasted the damn thing with something that looked like it came out of a flamethrower. Perhaps due to my panic, the spell was extremely effective, and it was incinerated the damn thing. Will the horrors never cease?

I meandered my way through the countryside for the next few weeks, incinerating any who dare come near me. Okay, so maybe it took all of my castings for the day sometimes, but it proved generally effective. As I learned at Torch when I got there, I was, quite simply put, absurdly lucky while I was traveling through the Hills. Wrong turn there, a couple steps over that way, and I would’ve fallen play to numerous mutants, bloodthirsty Sunder Horns, and hungry mutants. Really, the only thing I did of note was to scream like a little girl when a cute-ish junkyard robot lumbered at me. It probably didn’t even want to hurt me, although I turned on the heat anyways. I sprayed fire at it for a solid forty seconds. It was a pile of molten slag by the time I got through with it.

So, I eventually wandered into the plains, where I found Torch. A small-time local wizard helped train me there. Eventually, the fire went out. Bad, bad, very bad, badbadbadbadbadbadbad news. For some reason, I could smell the League all over it. The scent of evil: machine grease, burning, and Numerian fluids. So, I decided I might as well help out with my newly honed powers.

That was a mistake.

A big one.

More like a Godzilla-sized one.

That’s when everything went cuckoo.

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Female Human Wordcaster Sorcerer (Sage) 1 | Init +4 | Perc -1 | AC: 12 Tch: 12 FF: 10 | Ref: +2 Fort: +0 Will: +1 | HP: 6/6 | quarterstaff +0 (1d6) | CMB +0 | CMD: 12
1st Level: 4/4

Analise makes an exclamation as many of the passengers on the boat suddenly disappear, then shrugs and turns the page. "Damn. Never seen a random arcane fluctuation like that. Going to have to scan for residual magic in the area..."

Couldn't resist :P

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Actually, there's a very famous Samurai Jack episode that the main character is an android who got an emotion-simulating chip implanted at the time of his creation.

Episode fifty, I believe.

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I HATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! being so far away from Paizo HQ.

The fact that I separated from it by a massive mountain range also may factor in. Also, I ordered it just last week.

I blame Cosmo.


Reference Check DC 10:


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Male Human Barbarian 3 | HP 16/42(36/51) | Init +1 | Perc +6 | AC: 16(14) Tch: 11 FF: 15 | Fort +5(+7) Ref +2 Will +2(+4) |
Rage 9/10 Powerful Blow 1/1

For classified reasons, I will be gone for a week. [REDACTED] is calling me over to his [REDACTED] even now, so I must go. Hey, stop doing that with your [REDACTED]! If any Daleks come to your door, it has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH ME!

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DC: Mark's not gonna make it perception check: There is a strange, out of place shadow in your office.

"Hello, Mark. How are you doing?"

Couldn't resist ;P

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2d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 5) + 6 = 14
2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 2) + 6 = 12
2d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 6) + 6 = 18
2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 6) + 6 = 16
2d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 1) + 6 = 9
2d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 5) + 6 = 17
2d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 5) + 6 = 13
1d4 ⇒ 3

I can work with this... I can definitely work with this...

Alright... Probably going to go with this stat array with a catfolk race...

Str: 16
Dex: 20 (17 base, +2 racial, +1 levels)
Con: 12
Int: 13
Wis: 7 (9 base, -2 racial. SQUIRREL!)
Cha: 20 (18 base, +2 racial)

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Female Catfolk Wilder (Student's Surge) 6/Soulknife 6 (Cutthroat)

As the glaive impales Eoko, she says nothing. Nobody sees the light fade from her eyes as she hangs there. Her heart stops. She is gone.

Dammit. I was really looking forward to playing her. Oh well. Should I make a new character?

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Male Grimspawn Daemonic Sorcerer 6/Warlock 16/Harrower 10
Spells Per Day:
1st: 9/9 2nd: 9/9 3rd: 8/8 4th: 8/8 5th: 8/8 6th: 7/7 7th: 7/7 8th: 4/4

School of Elanish Thought: "It's just there for dramatic tension. Don't worry about it."

Anyways, the problem will probably be solved by the Champions killing the Seed in the other reality (hence stopping the resonance, though Iolth would be put in a coma if that happens) (and, yes, it's a Horseman/Seed of Destruction combo out there). So, even if things do get that dire (which I will make sure they won't), there's a deus ex machina in the works to save your sorry asses.

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I really like Jack of Blades from Fable, and I want him to be a BBEG for a campaign I'm drafting up. I'm thinking a gestalted Magus/Antipaladin would be a good start, have him take the Familiar arcana, get improved familiar, and get a Spirit Oni as his familiar.

On top of that, statting out Minions would be helpful as well.

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Alright, alias is up!

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@Grimmy As far as PC death goes, well... Let me just put it this way: Although my characters have never died, I have a panic attack when one of them gets into the negatives. Oooh, yeah. That 2nd Ed homebrew with the ghouls... That got a little bit iffy. *Winces*

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Orthos wrote:
Tels wrote:

I blame Cosmo for M. Night Shyamalan's The Last Airbender.

Some things can't be forgiven Cosmo, you should never have crossed that line.

I... I can't blame Cosmo for this. I'm not that cruel.

I know that was WAY far back in time, but you mean the movie, right?

That thing should be killed with over 9000 nukes. Not even Cosmo could create something that horrible based off of such a good series.

Also, I blame Cosmo for the huge colony of sock gnomes that inhabit my house.

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Yeah. A couple PCs over would just mean adding some extra monsters and maybe adding a template or two.

Like, for example, Rich Burlew's legendary uber-snail. That thing should get Kaiju and get put in Beastmass.

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Hey all! For all who yearn to relive the glory days of Thundaria, here's your chance! Remember, this is an interest check only, want to make sure there is enough people who want to do this first.

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How would you think of this concept: a blackblade magus who has a crush on his sword?

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"All is quiet is the small mining town of Loch Ragmar. A small mining town, it has never really attracted attention from the outside world. It is generally only a rest stop for adventurers going to the Nadashaar Vale to the north, which is ripe for adventure. A perfect location for an artifact of unspeakable, profane power..."

This is a homebrew campaign I'm working on right now. It's Mythic, and as you can guess by the title, involves the Demon Lord of Minotaurs, Baphomet, being set loose on the Prime Material Plane.

Some caveats:
1. All races are allowed, though Uncommon races are under scrutiny.
2. 30 point buy, and you get 1 free 18 (only mortals worthy enough can house the power)
3. For classes, all Core and APG are allowed. No ninjas, samurai, gunslingers, or ACG classes though.
4. No evil characters.
5. Players are encouraged to create custom abilities for their character, though it has to be within reason. For example, a Fiend Flayer Bladebound Magus combining the Black Blade and his Fiendblade. It will be under minimal scrutiny, though there is one requirement-add some fluff to that crunch!
6. 6 characters maximum. However, your chances for entry are increased if you collaborate on your fluffah bahnnies.
7. Registration will be open for two weeks.
8. Instead of being a normal, casual PbP, all players are expected to be on and posting at 6 every Saturday, and play will cut off as soon as the first person has to leave. Exceptions can be made, and I will work with the players if this doesn't work for them. Please, for RP encounters, confer with other players about your course of action before doing it.
9. Bear with me! This is my first homebrew, AND my first PbP. If you have any tips, offer them.
10. Annnd rainbows, to round off the numbers.

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Two Questions:
1. Am I right in assuming playing a RotRL campaign is a rite of passage for Pathfinder Players?
2. If so, I am interested in playing an online one with somebody-preferably Gluttony.

Thanks ^_^