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So, a sail's been spotted, but how far away is the ship?
Can you see the whole ship or is it still hull down with just the sails showing?
What about that island the treasure map is pointing to?

Does it really matter? ;)

If it does, then I hope this spreadsheet will turn out helpful.

I've done it a bit hurriedly during boring parts of training, so it's a bit rough.

It does both simple and "complex" calculations for spotting land and ships. I've assumed Golarion has the same radius as Earth. I also assume the weather's fine and the lookout is eagle-eyed and sober.

An example: assuming a ship with a deck 10 feet above sea level and a lookout at the crosstrees 70 feet up. The ship is heading towards the White Cliffs of Dover (UK, not Golarion), they reach upwards of 350 feet above sea level.

That means that the lookout will be able to spot them at just over 33 miles. People on deck have an effective horizon of just under 4 miles. But since the cliffs are 350 feet tall, they'll be able to spot them when the ship gets to just under 27 miles.

They happen to be attempting to run the English Blockade. Unbeknownst to them, a British frigate is ahead. It's under full sail; it has somewhere to go, but won't mind turning to snatch up a blockade runner. Assuming the top of the frigate's sails are 120 feet above sea level, our blockade runner's lookout can spot the sails 23 miles out and it'll be hull up at 10 miles (the lookout's horizon).

If our lookout is hungover and is not paying attention, then the officer of the watch could spot the sails 17 miles out and it'd be hull up at under 4 miles.

Now the island. You might think you could spot it's location first from the vegetation or mountain peak (if it was a volcanic island). But no, you'd get a much earlier indication because of clouds that form above islands. An astute sailor could determine that there's something "thataway" due to a cloud bank on the horizon in an otherwise clear sky. So the ship might be able to spot it over 100 miles away.


My download didn't have it included. I've been on a bit of a siesta (yay overtime) so haven't been keeping up to date with the news. Are the maps still being included or have they been stripped out?


Has anybody looked into running Feast of Ravenmoor as a side adventure? My players just hit level 3, so they're appropriately leveled, the caravan will be passing within hailing distance and with the "renowned vineyards" there, I can see Sandru wanting to stop in to get a cargo unit or two of wine. It'd be just a bit of a change in the setup, the PCs happen into Ravenmoor rather than being sent. It's nearly the perfect setup.

However, I don't own it yet and before I lay down $10 for the PDF I'd like to see if anybody else has considered it and what their opinions are. :)


Unless I'm blind (well, without contacts I am ... but we'll ignore that), there's no mention of what month the AP starts in. I'm guessing an axial tilt causes the season and thus the Crown of the World will have extremely varying day lengths depending on the season.

The blurb for The Hungry Storm on the AP synopsis page mentions crossing in the off season; which I assume would be winter. So are we looking at maybe mid to late autumn in Brinewall Legacy and progressing to late autumn or early winter for The Hungry Storm, or even later depending on how long it takes to finish Night of Frozen Shadows?

I've been using a calendar handout for years and my players love it; they especially want to journal their JR experiences on it. Most of the time the season doesn't really matter for an adventure, but I think JR is different here. Along with weather considerations, there's a lot of overland travel, so the narrative will hinge on the season. (Rolling hills covered in the lush green of summer? The vibrant reds and oranges of autumn? The skeletal limbs of winter?) Plus it'll be just plain spooky for them to see the horizon light up, the sun rise above it, hesitate, and drop back down; all over the course of a few minutes.

Had a relative experience that his first day at a military base in Alaska. Heh, he claimed it was rigged so that they got off the plane just in time to watch it. The MPs almost had to drag him back off the plane after witnessing the "30 minute day."


On page 81 of Brinewall Legacy, it says encounter indicated with an asterisk can happen at night ... but there's no asterisks.

The Varisian Caravan entry has day/evening specific text so that pretty self explanatory.

I can make some guesses on the others. Bad Weather and Treacherous Road hamper movement, so they're day (bad weather sucks at night but the entry only talks about movement penalty). Bandit Ambush is likely day too, hard to ambush somebody that's not moving. I'm guessing the others (Goblin Raiders, and Ogre Assault) can happen either time.

So 3 day only and 3 day or night?


A coworker suggested this idea and I agreed to look into implementing it. The basic premise for it is that he dislikes characters being stagnant for a number of sessions and then suddenly getting a windfall of hit points, skill points, new feats, new abilities, etc.

His idea was to spread out the increases over the level. After some discussion, we decided upon a quarter system where each quarter level the character gets something, one or two hit points, a couple skill points, and/or a feat or class ability. We decided on, for lack of a better term, a leading progression where there character starts racking up the next level's abilities.* Things chosen by rolling, such as hp, would be determined before hand so that the progression could be laid out.

It would be weighted so that most of the increases happened towards the actual level increase. So, if there's only 1 new class ability, then it happens at the actual leveling. A new spell slot of an already know spell level could happen during the incremental stages but gaining a slot for a new spell level would only happen at the actual level. (E.G. A 2nd level cleric would get his second level spell at the actual increase to 3rd level while a 6th level cleric might get her 4th 1st level spell at 1.5, but only get her new 4th level spell when truly hitting level 7.)

An example
One of the characters in my group is an inquisitor. Currently he's at level 1. So, before they start playing, the player would roll his hp earned for level 2. Let's say he rolled a 5. Due to his int, being a human, etc., he gets 10 skill points per level. At level two he also gets his BAB bumped up and three class abilities: cunning initiative, detect alignment, and track.

At level 1.25 (500 XP, medium progression), the inquisitor gets 1 hp and 2 skill points.
At level 1.5 (1000 XP), he gets 1 more hp, 2 skill points, and a choice of any of the three class abilities
At level 1.75 (1500 XP), he gets another hp), 3 more skill points, and another choice of class abilities.
Finally, at level 2 (2000 XP), he gets 2 hp, 3 skill points, a BAB increase, and his final class ability.

Advantages
- Cool stuff more often. Great for those players that get bored easily. (*Looks sideways at a particular player in his group.*)
- It helps to smooth out that sudden Ding! "Hey look, I is more powerful!"

disadvantages
- Bookkeeping. It's yet another layer of tracking that has to be done. If regulated to after the session ends, then that mollifies it somewhat.
- The characters will be increasing in power so that the GM will have pay closer attention to encounter balancing.
- It would have to be customized for each character for each level. Of course players could easily do it for their own characters with the GM signing off on it after a quick review.

It's still in a very rough idea stage. I've only thought about it for a little bit and thought I'd toss it out here to see if anybody has had experience with this sort of idea.
And if you made it this far, thank you for your time reading my rambles. :)

*It could also be a trailing progression if one wished. You level but only get some of that level's abilities, the rest are doled out over time. Personally I'd hate to level but have the GM giggling and holding back on all the stuff my character just earned; handing it out like a parent doles out Halloween candy as you stand there in your dinosaur costume crying, "but mom, I earned it."

[Edited to typo a correct.]


I’m working my group through RotR and thought I’d share the circus… adventures.

Characters:
Atticus: Elven ranger raised by gnolls, he collects “trophies” from all his kills and then uses his cooking skills to … uh, celebrate his victory.
Cinocard: Gnome sorcerer (read his name backwards and you get his bloodline) that wishes he could have been born a goblin and has somewhat of a gambling addiction. Desperately wants to fly. Has done that frequently so far … sort of as you’ll see.
CJ Deathpit: “A human shepherd kidnapped by wizards, experimented upon by mixing in troll blood so that he now has really slow regeneration, scent, a couple other ‘things’, and an affinity to use improvised weapons instead of his two-handed sword, especially if there’s farm implements nearby.”
Harper: A Varisian half-elf bard (wow, somebody normal!)
Una al Miran: An Absalomian (Half Garundi-Half Vudrani, “it’s a melting pot after all”) cleric of Sarenrae with over 20 pages of backstory and a tendency towards narcoleptic summoning.

So … yeah, quite the motley crew.

*ahem*

Session 1 - Beware of Flying Gnomes and Boiling Goblins
Una was asked by her order to travel to the town of Sandpoint to be their representative during the dedication of Sandpoint’s new cathedral. Having nothing better to do, her friends decided to accompany her. Reaching Sandpoint a few days before the autumnal equinox, the day of the dedication, the party settles in. The party decides upon the Rusty Dragon Inn, due to its cheap rates, good food, and for Cinocard, the exotically attractive proprietor Ameiko Kaijitsu. The party waits out the next couple days in relative relaxation. Cino finds the Hagfish and begins a momentous losing streak at cards, dice, guess-the-number, no-way-anybody-can-lose, holy-cow-the-gnome-can’t-even-win-this-game-against-himself, and other such games of chance.

Finally the day of the ceremony arrives. Joining the townsfolk and other out-of-town representatives, the party settles in for a long series of speeches by the mayor (fun), sheriff (boring, especially the warning about the bonfire), the owner of the local theatre (a long-winded and wandering commercial for his new play), and the new priest of the temple (who ups the fun factor by releasing a thousand swallowtail butterflies, perfect for the easily distracted gnome … Atticus eats one). The priest, Father Zantus, rings in noon and dismisses the crowd to dinner, supplied free of charge by the local taverns and inns. As the party suspected, Ameiko’s spicy curry wins the unofficial popularity contest. Even Atticus, no novice to a kitchen himself, is impressed.

Following lunch comes a long afternoon of conversations and watching children chase butterflies through the courtyard. Finally, as the sun sinks towards the horizon, Father Zantus again mounts the stage and approaches the podium. Unable to get the square’s attendees’ attention, he grins and smacks a thunderstone down upon the podium. The thunderclap startles Atticus who spins about and considers fleeing down an alley.

Laughing at Atticus’ reaction, Father Zantus opens his mouth to start the dedication ceremony, and a woman’s scream slices through the gathers. Another and another scream echo around the square, joined by a high-pitched not quite human chanting. Half the party recognize it: goblins. Making out the song, they realize that things are about to get interesting.

Chaos erupts!

A small, dark shape darts through the crowd and a stray dog under a nearby wagon yelps once. Casting about for what’s going on, some of the party notes the dog lying in a spreading pool of blood with a goblin hiding in the shadow of the wagon, licking blood off of a wickedly shaped weapon that the ranger recognizes as a dogslicer. Suddenly another goblin leaps atop the buffet table behind them. Snarling, it raises its dogslicer … and sudden gets distracted by some nearby salmon. Dropping its weapon, it grabs the salmon and starts chowing down, stuffing pieces into its pockets for later.

Being good little boy, and girl, scouts, the party is prepared for battle – fully armed and armored (gotta watch out for those dangerous butterflies after all). Atticus spins off his bow and starts firing at the distant goblin while CJ makes a grab at the one on the table; who dances away, now with a ham hock in its hand. Said goblin, suddenly remembering why it’s there, smacks Una upside the head with the ham, leaving a greasy smear on the side of her face. Another goblin darts under the table, coming at CJ’s knees while Cinocard pops the distant goblin with a magic missile.

CJ finally manages to grab the table dancing goblin and promptly dunks it head first into a large, boiling pot of lobster chowder (supplied by the Hagfish tavern). Cino jumps to the top of the table to get a better view of the fight and gets completely distracted by the sight of goblin feet kicking above the rim of the large pot. The goblin under the table darts out, and meets its end while Atticus pops an arrow through the distant goblin as it charges at the party and CJ finally feels the stewing goblin jerk one last time.

The party looks about, assessing the situation. Goblins gambol about, slashing anything and everything. Many goblin bodies lay strewn about. As one plunges from a roof to lie motionless on the street below, they realize that the goblins are doing as much damage to themselves as the party, and the town’s guard, are. Unfortunately, a few non-goblin bodies like scattered about too.

Atticus grabs a spoon and tries the goblin lobster stew. Wrinkling his nose up in disgust, he finds some salt and stirs it in. Now happy with the taste, he dishes out a bowl to munch on while looking about.

Suddenly a nearby wagon full of fuel for the night’s bonfire explodes into flame. Four goblins come from behind it staring gleefully at the fire. One of them looks at the house next to it and grins, using its torch to try to set it ablaze too. They notice the party and charge. A grizzled fifth goblin comes out from behind the wagon. Whereas the rest of the goblins have been screeching their song off-key, this one maintains a steady and well-performed variant.

The goblins reach the party before they can react and stab out with their torches. CJ suddenly realizes the hard way that one of the alchemy fire flasks on his bandolier has a leak. He strips the whole bandolier off and tosses it at the chanting goblin. The vials fall out of the bandolier as they fly, immolating the chanting goblin and the straggler who had tried to set the house on fire. The remaining goblins, staring mouths agape at the instantly charred remains, flee. Two are instantly cut down while the third manages to duck under the table to escape. Cinocard, seeing his chance, extend his claws and leaps off the table. He intended to spring upon the fleeing goblin’s back. Instead he lands face-first on the hard-packed ground of the square.

Pausing to catch their breaths, the party notes that the square is now empty save for them and the bodies. The fighting, however, is still a general din rising up throughout town. Suddenly the sound of growls and a call for help comes from the north. Racing down the street around the cathedral, they see a nobleman cowering behind a rain barrel favoring a bloody leg while a large mastiff stands protectively nearby, snarling at a goblin mounted upon a large, mostly hairless, dog-looking thing. A couple other goblins cower nearby, obviously frightened by the nobleman’s dog.

The mounted goblin wields a weapon similar to the dogslicers but mounted on a shaft of wood like a halberd, a horsechopper. It stares at the dog, and as the party rounds corner, runs the dog through with the horsechopper. With the dog dead, the other goblins regain their courage and charge the nobleman.

Atticus and Harper stop and start firing arrows and crossbow bolts, and Harper additionally begins singing to help the party counter the goblins’ chanting. Cinocard turns to CJ and screams “throw me!” CJ barely pauses as he scoops up the gnome and tosses him overhanded at the pair of goblins. It’s a perfect toss and Cinocard, his claws extended again, crashes into them like a gnome bowling ball.

CJ then charges the mounted goblin and lines up a massive kick. The goblin goes flying, flips three times in the air, and lands on its feet with a stunned look on its face. With a maniacal gleam in its eye, it returns the charge as the goblin dog turns on CJ. Una rushes up to aid the nobleman as two more goblins charge him. One of the goblin leaps atop the rain barrel to attack him … forgetting that rain barrels can only be such if they have no tops. It disappears from view as water geysers up into the sky. It eventually springs back up into view, still chanting the goblin war song.

Baring her mace, Una keeps the goblins off the noble as Atticus begins to show the prowess of a ranger: one-shotting goblin after goblin. Cinocard dashes to assist CJ as he starts to suffer from the coordinated attacks of the goblin and the dog-thing.

Finally the party finishes off the goblins, leaving the rat-dog-thing. CJ roars and grabs it by the tail, flinging it into the rain barrel a few feet away. Well, he intended to at least. Mid-swing he realizes why the weight’s wrong. Cinocard had leveled a swipe at the goblin dog, causing it to leap aside. He jumps forward, pressing his attack only to feel extreme pain atop his head. He looks up to discover he’s actually looking down CJ’s arm; and that his feet are pointed straight up into the sky. CJ had missed the goblin dog and grabbed Cino by mistake. With a yelp and a thud, Cino finds himself wrapped around the rain barrel, out of the fight. Una manages to finish off the goblin dog while simultaneously staring aghast at the flying gnome.

With that, the fighting in town appears to be ending as goblins stream out any way they can, as long as it’s nowhere near the maniacs. Harper rushes up to the nobleman and heals him while Una attends to a delirious Cinocard. The noble immediately springs to his feet, thanking Harper profusely, she is as gentle with her healing as she is deadly with her crossbow; both of which pale to her beauty. He thanks the party for saving his life and invite them to seek him out at the Rusty Dragon Inn he’ll reward them properly, especially the group’s fine maidens, angels of mercy to the innocent and death to the enemy.

Tune in next time for Part Two: Wagons Full of Food!


My group just got into Pathfinder with me being an old 2ed hand drug kicking and screaming into the 3.5 era a few years ago and then I in turn dragging my players into Pathfinder this year. (With less screaming as the old hands had been interested since hearing about it and the newer players were in a sort of "meh" state.)

After getting frustrated with my own world (world building solo is hard when you're pedantic about geography, history, races, nations, politics, weather, etc. and there's a job taking up large chunks of the day and you're married with a kid, and on and on and on), I grabbed RotR and we've enjoyed it enough that I've recently gotten the Inner Sea guide and a player is buying race books as fast as they come out.

But, that leads me to trying to figure out how much of Thassilon to divulge, especially to a bard that has aggravating luck (to me at least) for rolling outstandingly high on her knowledge checks. How much is known about runelords? It's fairly apparent that runewells are unknown and the current accepted knowledge that the Old Light is a ruined lighthouse gives a good hint about the knowledge of their magical/technical advances. But what about the seven domains of the empire, the rune giants, etc.? (Ok, a quick peek at the Burnt Offerings Thassilon entry says that the word "runelord" has been lost, replaced, by the barbarians at least, by "azghat" and with a different meaning to them.) Is it little more than "that ancient empire that use to be here and created all these monuments"?

Obviously Brodert Quink knows something given his hypothesis about the Old Light. I'm betting he knows a bit more about the empire than most around there, but I don't want to give the players too much info. They're headed to him soon and so I'm trying to come with what I've going to tell them.

(Concerning how frightened they are of goblins at the moment, I don't want to tell them too much or they'll decide to flee. Seriously, they got ahold of Tsuto's journal and rather than stepping up like the brave heroes they're suppose to be, they immediately started working out how long it'll take them to pack and get out of Dodge. I've had to use the mayor like a +5 Guilt Stick way too often already.)


I recently got the Inner Sea World Guide and am looking at the map folio next, but I've got a question first. Are there any maps of the roads in, and between, the nations or is that something left up to the GM to devise?