Aebliss's page

Welcome to the discussion thread. Take your shoes off; grab a chair; have a drink.

The day dawns. Somewhere. It is not visible here, in a dungeon cell buried deep in the stony womb that is Hive, adrift on the silver lake like a particularly ugly lilypad.
You awaken, feeling the inexorable turning of the hours, the urge to rise.
To be specific - and a little crude - you feel the need for a privvy or a convenient chamberpot.
Then you register the various pains: the hangover poubding your brain like an anvil; the rotgut drink setting your bowels on fire; the bruises the guards put on you when they beat you unconscious and tossed you in this cell like sacks of flour.
You register the rank stench of unwashed bodies, unwashed cell, and the privacy-less hole in the middle of the floor, which connects to the Maze below.

You see and hear the rats, walking freely through the corridor outside the cell. They're wearing particularly fine waistcoats today. One grey-whisker has set up a little chair and table and is alternately watching you and reading a rat-sized paper while he sips tea.

In other words, it's a perfectly normal day...

I've been away for over a year now; I felt pretty burned out with gaming.
Now, I'm starting to feel that old itch again, so I thought I'd see who wants to play.

Welcome to: Debt to Society.
Some of you may have met in a bar. But where you all meet, is in the dungeon cells beneath the Palace of Justice. Drunk and disorderly, is the charge.
You were drunk before you got here, but now you just have a hangover and assorted other aches from when the guards beat you unconscious and threw you in the cells. Disorderly, you are.

Something brought you here, some great failure or disappointment. It brought you low, to the point that you spent your last few coins on cheap hooch in the city's disreputable dive bars. And now, you are here. About to be tried and sentenced, about to start repaying your debt to society.

The name of the city is Hive.
It is a city of four levels, which floats in the great silver lake. Everyone knows the liquid in the lake isn't water; it's poisonous and it burns flesh. Also, it's thicker than water.
The highest level of the city is where the aristocrats, the high clergy and the philosophers live. The second highest level is for the army. The third highest is the general residential level, and also home to Hive's industries. And then there's the bottom-most level, which is submerged in the silver liquid of the lake; a wretched maze where the worst elements of the city are pitched in to die - the Maze.

If the world has a name, it was forgotten long ago. Now, it is simply the world. The world has changed since the days of your distant ancestors; it has grown strange, more cruel.
Where once proud and mighty nations contested one another command of precious resources, now the remaining settlements are inhabited by a sprawl of different species and creeds. What culture remains, is a hybrid of many histories and customs. Peoples who once loathed each other must now live cheek by yowl to survive, for - and listen well - the world has grown strange.

Ideally, I'm looking for players who don't mind a slow pace.
One to three posts a week is plenty.

Hello,

After a considerable hiatus, I am looking to resurrect my campaign, set in the Middle Nations.

You can find the original recruitment thread HERE.

As I'm restarting the game, I thought I might recruit one more player to join my band of heroes, off to re-open an adventurers' guildhouse, off in the farmland.
If you like the premise and think you can work with the character creation rules (please see the original recruitment thread), then please let me know. ^_^

The seven moons are still pale shadows in the sky when you make your way down to the docks district of La Grande, grand capitol (Ha!) of the Middle Nations.
Seven moons: one white, one black, one green, one pink, one blue, one red and one gold. Specific conjunctions are supposed to symbolize good luck for specific occasions. A Grand Conjunction, when all the moons line up together, is supposed to be the ultimate omen of black magic.
But on this day, the seven moons are hanging loose in the sky -- and they are all at waning gibbous. That's actually a fairly rare sight, but not a very auspicious one. In the Lunar Dictionary, that supposedly means the balance of good and bad luck is at a level best described as "Meh", with a growing inclination to bad.

Still, you head on down to the docks, keeping an eye out for footpads. It's an ungodly hour to be outside, but you pretty much have to be. The Guildmaster was very definite about you getting to the docks at the crack of dawn, so he can send you down the Wazoo, and on to your very important (Double hah!) job in the tiny village of Rameii. (He may have mentioned that if you weren't there to be sent down the river at the crack of dawn, he'd crack your skull and throw you into the river, instead.)
At least the air is still pleasantly cool. With the Middle Nations in the grip of high summer, it'll be baking before noon. And you, you lucky few, are going to be stuck out on a river-boat when the sun reaches zenith.
You messed up. You know you messed up. You know how you messed up. And now you have to pay the piper. A tiny flyspeck village's Adventurers' Guild branch office has fallen silent, and the local nobleman has complained about it. Nobody's manning the quest board, nobody's taking up quests, nobody is sending reports to the main office in La Grande. So it's up to you... down to you... it's you. You have to take a week-long trip down the big river to Rameii, re-open the Guild branch office and staff it until such time that the Council of Guildmasters relieves you of this oppressive duty.
Hooray.

The docks district is already in full swing in spite of the early hour. River-boats are being unloaded and re-loaded. Sailors and porters are bustling about. City officials with serious clipboards are shouting orders. Freshly-unloaded cattle from the farm country both upstream and downstream is making a ruckus. Carts both laden and empty are trundling about.
When you get to Pier 13 (Triple hah, such a coincidence...) you're almost pleasantly surprised to see this is an area of relative calm.
Almost.

The river-boat lying at anchor here looks like it was freshly-painted and then lacquered with royal blue on the keel, sanguine red on the paddle-wheels, and creamy white detailing on the deck and castle.

You are far more definite about the two people waiting for you at the pier.

One of them is the La Grande Adventurers' Guild Main Branch Guildmaster. An impressive title for a man who was drummed out of the army on charges of "being unnecessarily nasty to recruits" and never misses an opportunity to say out loud that he wishes he was still in the army whenever he gets a drink in him. Any drink. Even the non-alcoholic ones.
That being said, you can't deny that Guildmaster Decker is incredibly fit for someone of his years and work experience, and he runs a tight ship. The middle-aged Vitor has a face only a mother could love, but he manages to cut a dignified figure anyway, and he's a stickler for taking good care of his equipment and for beating basic survival skills into rookie adventurers who sign up at the main branch. Under his tenure, corruption at the Guild's main branch has taken a nosedive, at the same time that corporeal punishment has shot way up. Some day, historians may find a connection between these two facts, but here and now, most people prefer not to upset the Guildmaster.
You prefer not to further upset the Guildmaster, who seemed on the verge of either a heart attack or subjecting you to bloody murder once he found out what you'd done. He almost bit through his cigar! Seeing you on the approach, you feel he might be inclined to bite through the one he's smoking right now.

The other person is known to you and very frightening in her own right. You've heard stories and seen her out and about at the main branch office, but fortunately she doesn't talk much to anyone beneath management level. You feel very fortunate that you haven't actually climbed the ranks whenever you see her.
Middle Priestess Helvenge is slender, beautiful in a cool sort of way, and wears robes of iron-coloured silk that somehow manage to flatter her Gelnet features. Her white mage's stole is of resplendent golden and iron-coloured thread, set with small beads of sparkling obsidian. She is also a ranking priestess in the Order of Athelgarde, goddess of cities and civilization. Athelgarde is not a patron of the Adventurers' Guild, so it seems odd that Helvenge would be appointed as the main branch office's official chaplain... until you remember that it's Athelgarde we're talking about here. Of course her faithful would try to get some form of control over the Guild. They try to get control over everything that they can get their hands on, especially in the big cities.
There are faint flecks of rust on the heavy mace that always hangs from Helvenge's belt, which are whispered to be all that remains of adventurers who got drunk and said something disparaging about Athelgarde, or violated Guild rules too egregiously... and she's still walking around instead of having been murdered in an alley by angry adventurers. Let that thought sink in for a moment, if you dare.
The fact that her hands are currently occupied by a big, fancy-looking mahogany box with a gilded clasp and edging, makes you feel slightly safer around the woman.

"Line up!" Decker barks as you come shuffling up to him and Priestess Helvenge.
He looks you up and down and growls like an angry dog, then puffs angrily on his cigar.
"At least you're here; I can call off the contract killers. Listen up! Your mission, in case you'd forgotten: take this here boat down to Rameii, re-open the branch office, staff it, get it back up and running, send reports. Do a good job, and in a year I'll see about getting you replaced there and reinstated here. Everything clear?"

Priestess Helvenge clears her throat, causing Decker to grimace.
In spite of this, he takes over the box the priestess had been carrying with something approaching good manners, flips up the lid and holds it out to you. On a layer of black velvet, you see seven holy symbols.

Decker closes the lid and brusquely pushes the box into your hands.
"As the Rameii branch office has fallen silent, we're assuming the staff is dead and the building looted," he says. "When you set the office to rights, hang up the seals to invoke our patrons' blessings. Oh."

The Guildmaster pulls a scroll from inside his breastplate and hands it over.
"The boat will be putting in stops at Fallingdowns and Proxissima, two minor cities, to pick up passengers and cargo. During the lay-over, visit the Adventurers' Guild branch offices in those cities. Get this scroll signed by the local Guildmasters, and blessed by the local chaplain. Put the scroll into the box when you've got all the signatures and blessings, then burn it after putting the seals up in the Rameii branch office. Don't lose the seals! If you don't have the proper seals when you get to Rameii, you can't formally re-open the branch office, and the loss of revenue will be coming out of your hides. Literally, I will tan you all for boot leather! Is that clear? Everything understood? Any questions?"

Decker looks downright murderous at the word 'questions', and you get the feeling that he really doesn't want to hear any. Still, you have this last opportunity to talk to him before you get on 'SHAmlegger's Prize'... Him and Middle Priestess Helvenge.

Reference documentation for character creation:

Custom Races

You've gone and done it now...

World History
This is what everyone knows about the world:
The High Kingdom of the Elves dominates the massively sprawling, primal forest to the west.
The Orcish Dominions dominate the sweeping, mountain fastness to the east, rich in both ore and beasts.
The Dwarven Kingdoms dominate the depths, tunnelling ever deeper into the world in search of wealth and knowledge.

These are the great nations of the world, the kings of the realm...!

You, however, live in the Middle Nations. The nicest thing anyone can say about the Middle Nations is that they are fertile. A landscape of rolling hills and verdant plains, the Middle Nations are pretty much the breadbox of the continent. Dominated by the mighty Wazoo, the great river that runs from the ice caps in the north to the ocean in the south, the Middle Nations are home to cities, towns, villages ... and lots and lots of farms.

Oh, the Middle Nations aren't exactly as bucolic as they might sound. There's plenty of culture ... most of it built on the bones of failed empires.
In ages gone by, the Dread Empire covered most of the Middle Nations in darkness and tyranny, sponsored by fiends and dark gods ... until there was a huge slave rebellion. Now the 'Empire' is best known for being a rigidly traditional area that grows some of the best grapes and brews some of the finest wines on the continent. (Though the Elves disagree.)
After the Dread Empire, there was the Star Empire, as creatures from beyond the sky arrived in gleaming ships of metal and conquered the Middle Nations in the Night of Screaming Fire! Yes, the aliens ran roughshod over the Middle Nations, forcing the natives to labour towards their ends and laying siege on the Dwarves... until an Elf/Orc coalition ploughed into their flanks and crushed their hold.
Next, there was the human empire, better known as the Nameless Empire! Using the knowledge of their predecessors and having learned from their mistakes, the humans raised their productivity to new heights and improved the defenses of the Middle Nations bit by bit so as not to agitate their mighty neighbours. They advanced their knowledge of magic and science, they bred an army of servant-creatures to stand guard at the borders of their nation, and slowly they built up the Middle Nations to a force to be reckoned with... and their servant-creatures promptly turned on them, egged on and supported by the Elves and Orcs. Nowadays, humans are practically an endangered species, and...

Well. Here we are.

"The bards tell tales of heroics, grand love affairs and adventure on every street corner. The T.V. and movie theaters blast such tales right into your eyes. Books and magazines fill in the cracks with fiction.
And none of it matters in real life.

This is Simtore, the largest, oldest city in the world.
Including the crumbling necropolis on the west bank of the river, the equally decrept Old Town where the aristocracy and nobility gather, the bustling residential, industrial and entertainment districts, the schools and universities, the parks, the zoo and the harbour, Simtore is a testament to thousands of years of tradition and innovation.
Surrounded by the Great Forest on three sides and bordered by the Millennial Ocean to the east, Simtore is a hub for science, industry and trade. Magic mhas fallen out of fashion and the rule of the crown has been forced to make place before the political parties of Advancement, Acquisition and Tradition, but Simtore still holds mystery and treasure galore in its hidden corners.
The Gelnet may claim that it was their ancestors who founded Simtore, but the great city combines building styles from all the races, which have changed and blended over the centuries. Simtore is a glorious patchwork of architectural styles and colours.
And none of it matters in real life.

This is real life.
No matter whether you are an AI, a Baecken, a Gelnet, a Mite, a Ru or even a Zlapav, you need money to pay for the necessities of life! Food, shelter, taxes, entertainment! (Of course, some Baecken, Mites and even AIs prefer to just wander into the Great Forest, but every society has its losers.)
You need to find work. You need to save up money. You need to pay the bills.
These are good times to find work. The elections have just passed, and the Traditional party has won a sweeping victory. Any day now, the Advancement party will hand over the baton, and the festivities will produce a lot of job openings.
In Old Town, the royal jubilee is coming up, when the Gelnet king will demand his subjects to attend a royal celebration in honour of his glorious reign (the aristocracy still refuses to acknowledge they are no longer in absolute control of the city), and that is going to create work as well.
Every day, ships enter and leave the harbour, creating work.
Caravans move into and out of the Great Forest, creating work.
And the City Guild presents all those work opportunities for eager hands and minds to seize. All you need to do is enlist with the Guild, be there on time in the morning, and claim to any job for which you qualify. Then you need to work so you can collect your pay. What could be simpler?

This is real life, and you shouldn't worry about muttered rumours and random speculation.
So there are people who are nervous about the handover of political power from Advancement to Traditional. There are always fights and panic-mongering around election times, but it never gets any worse than that.
So people are grumbling in the bars that the old Gelnet aristocracy should be exterminated instead of venerated. People have been grumbling about the nobles for centuries, and who cares enough about them now to actually do anything to the arrogant relics?
So the papers and newscasts report that there have been random outbreaks of magic in the city. Let the conspiracy theorists babble on about how the Occulted Academy, the mythical school of magic, is making a play to take back the power arcane and occult spellcasters lost to science.
So the Tridiviate Temple has published prophecies which claim all five gods are going to choose new mortal champions. The temples are forever making predictions of this or that, and most of it never comes true.
So the Crown University tried to publish an article that their new computer has warned of 'inexplicable infractions of the laws of space/time'. The eggheads are forever spouting nonsense, and the world keeps turning just fine, right?
There are giant rats and roaches to kill, delivery jobs to run, tables to be waited, there is money to be made!

So if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your head down, your nose clean, and get to work."
-- Government broadcast

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This is the city of Simtore, on the world of Glem.
You are living in the big city for one reason or another, and yes, you need to make money to pay the bills.
Whether you're a homeless bum, struggling to save enough cash so you can start living in a motel room instead of a tent in the park; whether you're a student at either the Crown University or the New University trying to pick up some extra pocket money; whether you're a member of the Gelnet nobility desperate to earn enough money so you can keep up appearances when your family's coffers are nearly depleted; whether you're a pet Baecken trying to scrape up some cash to make your owner happy; whether you are an AI toiling because toil is all you have to give meaning to your life; whoever and whatever you are, you need the dough. And the Guild can give you work to earn it.
Of course, things are about to happen. Political upheaval, arcane eruptions, mayhem and mystery all await in the grand old city of Simtore. As you try to go about your daily life and complete missions for the Guild, you may just find yourself right in the middle of events about to unfold... Events which will rock the city and the world beyond.

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You
I am looking for no more than seven brave souls to plunge into a wholly custom-made world, with custom-made creatures and deities. Your mission: to make some money! ... And maybe save a city and a whole world. Who knows? It all depends on where your focus lies.
I will be using Pathfinder 1E. You start at level 1, with maximum hit points. On ensuing levels, you get half of maximum + Constitution modifier + 1 hit points. You start with medium wealth for your class. You get 2 traits at character creation; I may put up some new traits if this campaign pitch garners sufficient interest.

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Species
Instead of the standard species of Pathfinder 1E, you will be presented with a selection of six all-new player races from which to choose.

AI
Created by the dour goddess Vaal, the AI look like humanoids cast in metal and plastic. Which, to be fair, is mostly what they are. 'Blessed' by their goddess with the ability to make more of their own kind, the AI have persevered as a race since ancient times. Throughout history, AI have been enslaved and treated as objects made for the use of their 'betters' (i.e., the Gelnet), but in recent times they have received freedom (in no small part due to the overthrow of the Gelnet aristocracy).
Today, AI toil at jobs because ... well, because they have no other way to bring purpose to their existence. Uncertain whether their dour creator actually gave them souls or not and separated from their fellow intelligent species by their stark differences in biology, AI have no idea whether their existence serves a true purpose, or that it is simply a prolonged, cruel joke by their nihilistic goddess.

AI
- Half-construct (+2 to saves vs. disease, mind-affecting effects, poison, effects that cause exhaustion or fatigue; cannot be raised or resurrected; do not eat, breathe or sleep)
- Size: Medium
- Speed: Slow (20 ft.; this speed can not be reduced by encumbrance)
- Abilities: +2 Str., +2 Int., -2 Cha.
- Languages: Standard. AI start speaking the AI language of Ennor and Ishi. Baecken with high intelligence can choose bonus languages from among Babbel, Dula, Infernal, Morval, Sylvan, Terran and Ululo.
- Defense traits: Illusion resistance; Lifebound
- Feat & Skill traits: AI gain a racial +2 bonus to any one Craft, Perform or Profession skill

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Baecken
The creations of fickle Ulla, Baecken are humanoids which display animalistic traits such as the ears, tails, eyes, partial fur - and sharp teeth of beasts. Once the terror of the wild lands, Baecken were driven back by and finally forced to encroaching civilization, their formerly numberless tribes pared down to three. While the Mog- and Mut-tribes are now largely adapted to living in cities, with many even today serving as pets to Gelnet and Zlapav with the room and means to keep them, the Ursk are still proudly independent and only come to the city for what they want and need. Which, to be painfully honest, mostly means they raid the city dump and upend trash cans for food.
While Baecken are not exactly known for their intelligence, they have sharp senses, strong jaws, and are ferocious when faced with their traditional enemies, the AI and the Ru (which is more because they think these creatures unnatural than because the AI or the Ru ever did anything to them).

Baecken
- Monstrous humanoid
- Size: Medium
- Speed: Normal (30 ft.)
- Abilities:
Mog (feline) Baecken: +2 Dex., +2 Con., -2 Int.
Mut (canine) Baecken: +2 Str., +2 Dex., -2 Int.
Ursk (ursine) Baecken: +2 Str., +2 Con., -2 Int.
- Language: Xenophobic. Baecken start out speaking their own language, Ululo. Baecken with sufficiently high Intelligence scores can select bonus languages from among Aquan, Babbel, Dula and Ishi.
- Defense traits:
Mog Baecken: Mist child
Mut Baecken: Fearless
Ursk Baecken: Stability
- Offense traits: Bite; Hatred (AI, Ru)
- Sense traits: Carrion sense, Darkvision 60 ft., Low-light vision

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Gelnet
The one and only product of cooperation between the three origin goddesses, Chui, Ulla and Vaal, the Gelnet consider themselves to be the crown of creation.
Elegant, beautiful and blessed with forceful personalities, with radiant gemstones growing from their brow, the Gelnet once considered all other species their slaves and ruled as their feodal overlords - but the age of their supremacy has now passed. Wise Gelnet today try to get along with other species, if only to ensure their own wellbeing. And a Gelnet's own wellbeing is often foremost in their mind; vain, with a natural penchant for greed and obsessive behaviour towards their own interest, Gelnet are raised from the cradle to consider their own interests first, and to focus on what is concrete and real; what can be touched, claimed, seized and kept. Which is not to say there are no altruistic and generally benevolent Gelnet, but they may have some difficulty convincing members of other species of their character.

Gelnet
- Humanoid
- Size: Medium
- Speed: Normal (30 ft.)
- Abilities: +4 Cha., -2 Str., -2 Wis.
- Language: Standard. A Gelnet begins play speaking Dulan and Ishi (coincidentally both languages created by ancestral Gelnet). Gelnet with sufficiently high Intelligence scores can learn bonus languages from among Aquan, Auran, Celestial, Demonic, Draconic, Infernal and Terran.
- Defense traits: Lucky. Blessed by three goddesses, Gelnet gain a +1 racial bonus to all saving throws.
- Feat & skill traits:
Greedy
Obsessive: Gelnet often pursue a single career or interest with manic zeal. They gain a +2 racial bonus to any one Craft, Knowledge, Perform or Profession skill.
Wealthy: Gelnet naturally produce gemstones, which grow upon their brow. At every level-up, starting with level 1, the gem 'ripens' and falls off, making room for a new gem to grow. The gem's value equals the Gelnet's current level x 100 gp, and they are freely bought and sold in the city. There are procedures to induce accelerated gem growth, many of which are highly hazardous to the Gelnet's health...
- Magic traits: A Gelnet can use Endure elements as a spell-like ability once a day.

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Mites
Faerie creatures born of a collaboration between Chui and Vaal, the Mites are diminutive guardians of the wild and agents of love and friendship between the races - or at least, that was Chui's hope for them. Far from being the world's diplomats and matchmakers, Mites nowadays exist in a tenuous balance with the rest of the world, for although they are gregarious of nature, they are also very small of stature...
Mites would love to integrate fully into the city, but often face problems when faced with life in a medium-sized society, such as having to pay for rooms that could fit dozens of them but are only allowed to house three, restrictions on gliding through airspace that could be occupied by flying vehicles, and above all the lamentable tendency of 'traditionally-minded' Gelnet to capture them and put them on display as though they were pet insects. The less said about the tendency of feral Baecken and animals to consider them food, the better.

Mite
- Fey
- Size: Tiny (+2 size bonus to AC; +2 size bonus to attack rolls; -2 size penalty to CMB and CMD; +8 size bonus to Stealth checks)
- Speed: Normal (30 ft.)
- Abilities: +2 Dex., +2 Ws., +2 Cha., -4 Str.
- Languages: Standard. Mites begin play speaking Sylvan and Ishi. Mites with sufficiently high Intelligence scores can select bonus languages from among Alakar, Babbel, Celestial, Draconic, Dula, Ennor and Ululo.
- Feat and skill traits: Diplomacy and Sense motive are always class skills for Mites.
- Movement traits: Gliding wings
- Sense traits: Low-light vision

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Ru
The product of a collaboration between Ulla and Vaal, the Ru know what the AI only suspect; their existence is a cruel joke. The difference, they are meant to be a joke on all other living beings. A perversion of the common understanding of life, Ru thrive on negative energy and shy away from positive, glorify in darkness and gloom and shrink from the light. As fond of the taste of blood as any vampire, though they do not require it to sustain themselves, Ru today prefer to dwell in the necropolis west of the river, where they are free to revel in the morbid atmosphere and pursue a nocturnal lifestyle. Here, they are seldom disturbed by the other races, and they are not tempted to sink their fangs into unsuspecting flesh.
Such Ru as enter the rest of the city tend to pursue careers as night watchmen or undertakers, as well as any other work that requires them to prowl around at night.

Ru
- Half-undead (+2 to saving throws vs. disease and mind-affecting effects; no penalties from level-draining effects, though they will die if they gain more negative levels than they have HD; any negative levels will disappear after 24 hours, with no save needed; Ru are harmed by positive energy and healed by negative energy)
- Size: Medium
- Speed: Normal (30 ft.)
- Abilities: +2 Str., +2 Cha., -2 Con.
- Languages: Linguist. Ru begin play speaking their native language of Morval and Ishi. A Ru with a high Intelligence score can select any language as a bonus language, except for secret languages like Druidic.
- Defense traits: Shadow resistance, Shadow blending
- Feat & skill traits: Bluff and Stealth are always class skills for a Ru.
- Movement traits: Ru have a Climb speed of 20 ft. and a racial +8 bonus to Climb checks.
- Offense traits: Bite
- Sense traits: Darkvision 60 ft.
- Weaknesses: Light blindness

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Zlapav
Considered by many to be the clowns of the sapient species, Zlapav are the sole creations of Chui. They are small, pasty-pale, hairless humanoids with lumpen features and chubby bodies. Zlapav look so alike that even they themselves often have trouble telling each other apart. Gender traits don't even come into it, as Zlapav are hermaphrodites. As a result, Zlapav have an extensive tradition of tattooing themselves and each other in order to set individuals apart. A Zlapav tattoo is typically placed on the back or the belly, and incorporates symbols that identify a Zlapav's family as well the individual.
Generally amiable and curious, Zlapav have a tendency to pursue an interest or career only until it ceases to be interesting, at which time they move on to something else. Romantic and familial relationships are the exception. Once a Zlapav is passionate about a person, they will move heaven and earth to make the object of their affection theirs and to keep them in a style they consider to be befitting of that person. Family is a primal thing for Zlapav; a toddling little 'doughboy' (as they are often called) who would not raise their voice to defend themselves, will turn into a fury to protect a relative.
Although they usually look inoffensive and more humorous than anything, Zlapav's adaptability and innate magics often give them a leg up, even in the big city of Simtore.

Zlapav
- Humanoid
- Size: Small. (+1 size bonus to AC, +1 size bonus to attack, -1 size penalty to CMB and CMD, +4 size bonus to Stealth checks)
- Speed: Slow (20 ft.)
- Abilities: +2 Con., +2 Cha., -4 Dex.
- Language: Linguist. Zlapav begin play speaking their native language of Babbel and Ishi. A Zlapav with a sufficiently high Intelligence score can select any language as a bonus language, except for secret languages like Druidic.
- Feat and skill traits: Skilled. A Zlapav gains one bonus skill rank at every level.
- Magic traits: Three-faced. Once a day, a Zlapav can assume the static guise of a Medium-sized female humanoid; the same Zlapav can also assume the static guise of a male humanoid once a day. This functions as Alter self, with the Zlapav's caster level being equal to their character level.

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Sourcebooks: The allowed sourcebooks are: Core rulebook, Advanced player guide, Ultimate combat, Ultimate magic, Ultimate intrigue, Advanced class guide, Occult adventures, Inner sea magic, Technology guide.

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Classes: The following classes and archetypes are allowed. If it's not on the list, don't ask. Please keep in mind that in Simtore, arcane and occult magic has very much faded into obscurity. It still exists, but practitioners don't advertise their abilities unless they are in special enclaves such as the Occulted Academy. Divine magic is still very much in swing, but is mostly practised in temples (in theory; in the post-feodal age, divine spellcasters need to be more circumspect in how they use their magic).

Alchemist - Beastmorph, Chirurgeon, Internal alchemist, Promethean disciple, Psychonaut, Vivisectonist
Barbarian - Savage barbarian, Scarred rager, True primitive, Urban barbarian
Bard - Celebrity, Court bard, Geisha, Magician, Street performer
Brawler - Steel-breaker, Wild child
Cleric - Cloistered cleric, Evangelist, Theologian
Druid - Animal shaman (Bear, Lion or Wolf), Nature fang, Urban druid
Fighter - Archer, Gladiator, Tactician, Two-handed fighter
Gunslinger - Bolt ace, Musket master, Mysterious stranger, Pistolero
Inquisitor - Exorcist, Heretic, Preacher, Relic hunter, Sanctified slayer, Spellbreaker, Witch hunter
Investigator - Empiricist, Psychic detective, Sleuth
Magus - Bladebound, Kensai, Mindblade, Staff magus
Medium - Kami medium, Relic channeler, Spirit dancer, Storyteller
Mesmerist - Cult master, Spirit walker, Toxitician
Monk - Kata master, Master of many styles, Monk of the Lotus, Qinggong monk, Sensei
Ninja
Occultist - Necroccultist, Sha'ir, Tome eater
Psychic - Amnesiac, Formless adept
Ranger - Beast master, Falconer, Hooded champion, Urban ranger, Warden
Rogue - Acrobat, Burglar, Chameleon, Charlatan, Cutpurse, Escapologist, False medium, Roof runner
Slayer - Bounty hunter, Cleaner, Grave warden, Sniper
Sorcerer - Crossblooded, Mongrel mage
Spiritualist - Fractured mind, Hauntedm Onmyoji
Summoner - Broodmaster, Master summoner, Naturalist, Synthesist
Swashbuckler - Inspired blade, Mouser
Vigilante - Brute, Cabalist, Magical child, Warlock
Witch - Gravewalker, Hedge witch, Mountain witch
Wizard - Primalist, Shadowcaster, Spell sage

---

Patrons: Simtore, and the world of Glem in general, has a pantheon of five gods. First are the three goddesses of origin, who are said to have created the world and all the living creatures upon it. There are also two younger deities, who ascended from among the races placed on Glem by the goddesses of origin.

-- The three goddesses of origin are:

- Chui
Sylvan Chui is the most benevolent of the three goddesses of origin. She is the Queen of Origins, the Queen of Light. She champions love and joy, light and goodness, and encourages mortals to be their best selves and bring each other joy. She is the sole creator of the Zlapav, and the co-creator of the Gelnet, the Mites and the Ru. For generations, Chui was the only shield mortals had against the selfishness of her sister Ulla, and the growing despair and nihilism of her sister Vaal.
One thousand years ago, Chui actively sponsored the mortal Zlapav Ohiro during its adventures, and supported both its ascension to the pantheon and its sealing of her sisters by means of seduction and trickery. She was surprised - though not displeased - when her pupil added her to its list of conquests at the time, but has grown increasingly worried in the following centuries. Ohiro was the only tool she had to stop her sisters, given that her ethos did not allow her to fight them directly, but Ohiro is himself a chaotic and erratic being, and its existence gave rise to the younger goddess Laaken. Not to mention, her sisters know Ohiro was once her tool, and she fears that they will either destroy her or force her to inflict violence on them once they return. After all, Ohiro's wards and enforced promises cannot hold forever...

Chui
LG
Portfolio: Family, goodness, joy, light, love
Clerics: LG, LN, NG
Domains: Charm, Good, Law, Protection, Sun
Subdomains: Day, Defense, Friendship, Light, Love, Loyalty, Lust, Purity
Weapon: Longspear

- Ulla
Fickle Ulla is the Queen of the Senses, the Sea Queen and the Queen of Greed. Enthroned in the world's oceans, she is the sole creator of the Baecken, and the co-creator of the Gelnet and the Ru. She is a selfish hedonist who thrives on physical sensation and relishes the gathering of riches and power, no matter who she has to hurt to acquire them. While Vaal may want to destroy the world, Ulla is eager to despoil and corrupt it, to turn it into her private pleasure-palace where no other deity can hold power.
One thousand years ago, Ulla was all set to make her move and steal the world from her sisters, but she was thwarted by a coalition of Chui and the upstart godling called Ohiro, who first seduced and then sealed her. Currently, Ulla's powers and authority are strictly defined and her physical form is sealed at the very bottom of the deepest ocean trench of Glem. She seethes with rage at having been thwarted, and constantly thinks up plans to break free and resume her conquest.
Many Gelnet worship Ulla, seeing her selfish hedonism as an example to follow. Her Baecken children are more inclined to fear than venerate her, and the Ru dread attracting her attention. Many of her temples also serve as brothels, gambling halls and money changers.

Ulla
CE
Portfolio: Greed, lust, materialism, selfishness, water
Clerics: CE, CN, NE
Domains: Chaos, Charm, Evil, Luck, Water
Subdomains: Corruption, Curse, Imagination, Lust, Oceans, Revelry, Riot, Whimsy
Weapon: Greatclub

- Vaal
Vaal is known as the Queen of Tongues, the Queen of Secrets - and the Queen of Destruction. She is the sole creator of the AI, and the co-creator of the Gelnet, the Mites and the Ru. Enthroned in the darkness of night and the airless void of space, Vaal is said to hear every secret, every sin, and she has grown jaded and bored with the world she and her two sisters made. If she were given leave, she would tear it all down so she could create something new.
A thousand years ago, or so legend has it, Vaal did reach out her hand to snuff out the world -- only for the upstart godling Ohiro to seduce her and her sisters, and to extract a promise from her that she would leave the world of Glem in peace. Jaded as she is, Vaal has an eye for the novel and the unique. Many of those who worship her try to keep her entertained long enough that they might benefit from her power and favours; only complete nihilists support her desire to destroy creation and start over.
The AI rarely worship Vaal, given their doubt as to her reasons for creating them and their fear that she did not imbue them with souls. Vaal knows their fears - and has done nothing to assuage them, even though she did in fact give them souls; their fear and loathing grant her faint amusement. Ru are more inclined to worship their mother-goddess, often performing quite shocking ceremonies in hopes of entertaining her.

Vaal
NE
Portfolio: Darkness, destruction, ennui, the moon, night, secrets
Clerics: CE, LN, N, NE
Domains: Darkness, Destruction, Earth, Knowledge, Void
Subdomains: Catastrophe, Isolation, Loss, Memory, Metal, Moon, Night, Thought
Weapon: Scythe

-- The two younger deities are:

- Laaken
Laaken was once a mortal Gelnet woman. A cunning Ninja assassin and a skillful Rogue, she was known to steal lives and riches that no one one else could touch. A thousand years ago, when the dark goddesses Ulla and Vaal rose up to either taint or smite the world, much was lost - including the fortunes of Laaken's ninja clan. Furious at the loss of riches gathered by whole generations of theft and murder, not to mention the authority and favours those riches had bought, Laaken desired to find a wealth that could not be taken from her.
Having learned of the ascension of Ohiro, with whom she had been acquainted, Laaken made a desperate gamble. She petitioned the Zlapav deity and seduced it to a tryst -- and during the tryst, she stole the secret of ascension from her divine lover. Rather than being angry, Ohiro was amused by his old acquaintance's temerity, and sponsored her ascension.
Today, Laaken is the Grey, the Queen of Comforts and the Queen of Keeping. She is the patron of Ninjas, Rogues and Slayers, and every murder and theft committed for gain is a sacred act to her as they enrich those ambitious enough take what they want. On the other hand, she is also the sponsor of merchants and rulers, promoting farming, trade and civil order, which bring prosperity to large groups of people. To her, there is no contradiction, only a shifting balance.

Laaken
N
Portfolio: Civil order, contract killing, farming, money, ninjas, rulers, theft, trade
Clerics: CN, LN, N, NE, NG
Domains: Animal, Death, Plant, Travel, Trickery
Subdomains: Deception, Exploration, Feather, Fur, Growth, Murder, Thievery, Trade
Weapon: Katana

- Ohiro
The first of the two ascended deities, Ohiro was once a mortal Zlapav who caught the attention of Chui, his people's mother-goddess. After living a hero's legend, creating numerous industries, developing new forms of magic, and acquiring a harem which has not been matched in all the centuries since, Ohiro was taught the secret of ascension and sponsored by Chui. In short order, the hero-deity seduced and defeated Ulla and Vaal, then turned around and sponsored the rise of Laaken. Even unto today, Ohiro is the King of Inspiration and the King of Arts, a sponsor of magic and science.
All arcane spellcasters on the world of Glem, regardless their alignment or species, respect Ohiro, who laid the foundations for the many different forms of magic practised today. Most Zlapav hold it in high esteem, and many Baecken, Mites and Ru do as well. AI are largely indifferent to Ohiro's boundless energy and creativity. Gelnet are not adverse to worshipping Ohiro, given that it also created so many of the industries that have enriched the world of Glem, but many of them prefer to deny Ohiro was ever a Zlapav, and instead picture it as a male or female Gelnet.

Ohiro
CG
Portfolio: Adventure, creativity, magic, romance, science
Domains: Air, Artifice, Charm, Magic, Strength
Subdomains: Arcane, Fist, Industry, Love, Lust, Resolve, Rites, Wind
Weapon: Longbow

---

Languages
The elemental languages, Celestial, Demonic, Infernal, Protean, Sylvan and Draconic all exist and can be selected. But Gelm also has other languages unique to it:

Alakar - technically a dead language, Alakar was the tongue of an ancient empire ruled by a coalition of Gelnet and Ru. After its fall, the empire was denounced as a dark tyranny by the Gelnet, who blamed all the excesses of their old empire on the Ru - but its language survives as an object of scholarly interest and the 'parent' of both Dula and Morval.

Babbel - the racial language of the Zlapav, Babbel is often denounced as 'not being a real language' by Gelnet. It is a patois of elements of all other modern languages, and thus forms a fine springboard to learning other languages.

Dula - One of the Gelnet languages, Dula is languid and musical to the ear, but has a straightforward, even rigid grammar. It was once the language of the Gelnet royal court and then trickled down to the merchant class that became the current ruling faction of wealthy oligarchs and politicians. It is the language of high society, of religious ceremonies and contracts.

Ennor - Ennor is the native tongue of the AI. It is rigid in grammar and vocabulary. A sentence in Ennor can have only one meaning, no more. There is no room for interpretation or mistake, and it is fiendishly difficult to lie in. To compensate for its rigidity, Ennor's vocabulary is as expansive as it is rigid, with a word for every single thing.

Ishi - Ishi is the second Gelnet language, and it is the language of both the working classes and the criminal underworld. It is basically the Common of the world of Gelm. Possessing an expansive and flexible vocabulary and grammar, Ishi readily absorbs new concepts and can be adapted to most subjects.

Morval - Related to the dead language Alakar, Morval shares the old tongue's grammar, but has a vocabulary all its own. Full of clicks, glottal stops and hisses, Morval is considered an 'ugly' language by most, even by the Ru themselves, but this may be a deliberate attempt by the ancestral Ru to stop others from learning their secrets.

Ululo - the native language of the Baecken, Ululo is a language of howls, barks and hisses. It is considered to be very difficult to learn by non-Baecken, as it is also a language of body postures, gestures and to a limited extent, scent. Ululo is admittedly primitive, having almost no past tense.

Welcome to the discussion...

The morning dawns cool and clear.
A breeze is blowing in off the Serene Sea as you make your way up the gangplank, to the rather grandiose ship lying at anchor. The ship's name is painted on the hull in gold leaf: Kaye's Folly.

And why not? After all, Baron Kaye is the ship's owner, he's the owner of the island - Kaye's Island, of course.

The Baron himself is standing on deck, overseeing the loading of luggage and some 'small essentials' from a comfortable distance. He's a tall man, running to fat and balding, but with a genial smile on his face... and a beautiful Drow girl in maid's livery hanging off him the whole time, cooing and stroking his face.

The Baron's other guests for the festive opening of the Island resort are already on deck; one a man who appears to be not older than the Baron, but who has clearly gone deeper to seed and is accompanied by a hard-faced thug in leather armour; the other, a handsome dandy of a man in fine, dark silk and velvet.

As the ship is getting ready for departure, dark-robed men with beards you could hide a badger in are convening on the dock. In a happier world, these might be thieves or members of some criminal consortium. Unfortunately, this is not such a world. This is Rue, and the men approaching the vessel are priests of Kebal, carrying their traditional aspergilliums full of unholy water.

Selann is the last of the guests to make his way onto the ship, and he is barely in time to avoid what comes next: the Kebalite priests raise their aspergilliums against Kaye's Folly
and such slaves as are still struggling to get aboard, and start splashing them all with unholy water while they bellow and bray, their voices a discordant chorus that sends sleepy seagulls screaming towards the horizon:

"DOOM awaits you! DOOM follows you! There is no hope anywhere, only DOOM! DOOM is everywhere, DOOM is within and without! Hope not for safe return, hope not for safe arrival, surrender to DOOM and know peace! DOOM AND KEBAL! DOOM AND KEBAL! DOOM AND KEBAL! DOOM AND KEBAL!"

The slaves hurry to finish preparations, and the gangplank is drawn up.
Rue rarely has strong winds anymore, but the sails are raised anyway, just in case. Belowdeck, there is a mighty groan and the sound of a steady drumbeat, as slaves take up the oars that will provide the majority of the ship's propulsion.
Baron Kay strikes a dramatic pose next to the steering wheel and raises a glass of wine to all ... three ... of his guests.
"Gentlemen! Welcome aboard my humble little ship. Pray let us ignore the talk of naysayers; ahead lie only the most delectable of good times. After a leisurely boat ride, we will arrive at Kaye's Island, where awaits the grandest pleasure-palace of our Age. Pray accept your glasses, and let us toast an interlude of soul-soothing excess, to wipe away the burdens and sorrows of hum-drum everyday life. Gentlemen... Welcome to my Happy Island Getaway!"

Willowy Drow maidens make their way onto deck, carrying fluted glasses and bottles of wine as dark as night, yet as effervescent as champagne.

Rue is a battered, worn old world, spiralling through the void in a stately dance around its sun - its red and swollen sun. The mountains have been mostly worn to hills. The moon disappeared long ago, and so there is no tide. The last known mines are close to drying up. Ancient civilizations are growing steadily more corrupt, like fruit rotting on the vine, and twisted ... things ... are creeping out of the shadows that should have remained hidden forever.

But life still goes on, and Baron Kaye has opened a new resort on an island out in the Serene Sea! For whatever reason, you have managed to find placement on the first group to come tour the lavish establishment. Yes, you face a month of fine dining, entertainments fit for a king, and nothing but idle living, you lucky dog!

Then again, you may have to endure some minor interruptions to your vacation.
Welcome... to Rue.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

I am seeking a party of 4 - 6 brave souls willing to brave the luxuries of Kaye's Island Resort, to plumb the depths of its wine cellar, to stomach three lavish meals a day, to explore the wind-swept natural beauty of Kaye's Island and the glass-smooth expanse of the Serene Sea... and possibly to catch a brutal murderer before he can kill you all.

Four to six brave souls, to catch a murderous fiend and solve a miserable crime, preferably before the next supply ship comes in and they can escape. Or, you know, before the killer can finish off everyone on the island.

Be warned that the pace will be SLOW. I will commit to at least a weekly post.
You will be running an investigation, rather than a running brawl, so please keep this in mind.

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Character creation:

Alignment: any, but I expect you to play your alignment sensibly.
Going off on a mad murder spree or insulting every other player and chalking it up to a chaotic and/or evil alignment will not be tolerated. Even if you're CE, you'd still need some skill at getting along with others most of the time, or you would have been knifed in an alley or publically executed long ago.

Races allowed: Drow, Dwarf, Goblin, Half-Drow, Half-Elf, Half-Orc, Human, Tiefling.

Classes allowed: Alchemist, Cleric, Fighter, Investigator, Magus, Rogue, Sorcerer, Summoner, Witch, Wizard

Abilities: 15-point buy.

Starting level: 1

HP: Max + Con. modifier at first level, half max +1 + Con. modifier on following levels.

Traits: Two, one of which must be a 'campaign trait' from the list provided below. You are free to take the Additional Traits-feat.

Sourcebooks permitted: Core rulebook, Advanced player guide, Ultimate magic, Ultimate combat, Advanced race guide, Advanced class guide.

Archetypes: allowed

Background: please do! Tell me a little something about your character's past, present and wishes for the future, in keeping with the themes provided by the Campaign trait you have selected.

This is us: a fun, lively, well-functioning group of adventurers.

Due to our esteemed GM's work making it impossible for him to continue leading us, we are in urgent need of a replacement.
We are currently in Sins of the Saviors, of the Rise of the Runelords-AP.
We want to finish the current AP together and, if possible, tackle Return of the Runelords together when it comes out.

Who wants to come guide us through adventure, strife, unexpected romance, surprise ear-flickings and humour? ;)

Who here has ever played Advanced Fighting Fantasy (AFF) 2nd Ed., the play system originally created by Steve Jackson and Ian Livingstone, and might be interested in trying an online game using the system, set on the world of Titan?

Consider the Pathfinder realm of Rahadoum and its policy of atheism - and potential problems due to lack to access to clerical magic.
Now consider the Ravenloft 'religion' known as the Divinity of Mankind. Imagine someone from Paridon managed to escape to Rahadoum and introduced the Divinity of Mankind. What do you think the results would be?

You are not a hero.
You are not a legend.
You're just another lost soul, desperate for a roof over your head and money to pay for your meals.
Maybe you're the last of your clan.
Maybe you've been banned from home for some misdeed, imagined or real, and no one will hire you.
Maybe you've got a bounty on your head, or you're just neck-deep in debt for some reason.
Maybe you really did do something awful.
Maybe you are just desperate to give your life some meaning.
Maybe you just couldn't stand to follow the path that destiny seemed to have laid out for you.

And then you heard the town crier, or you saw the fliers nailed to the town gate.

Some enterprising noble wants to found a new town, down the course of the river, near the sea-shore. A harbour-town, built near the shadows of forest and mountain range, to accommodate trade and make fresh fortunes.
It's bad land, they say. Monsters and bandits haunt the area, they say. There is dark magic lingering in half-buried ruins from forgotten ages in the area, they say. They are wonders and horrors aplenty ready to come from across the rolling ocean, they say.
The settlers are going to need guarding, they say, as will the barges containing the building materials and the noble's squires, who are coming to oversee the clearing of the chosen site and construction.

It's a job. Apparently the nobleman isn't picky about the background of his caravan guards. And once the town is set up, there will be plenty of opportunities to found your own little business, or find a cushy position as town guards.
You can have a home. You can have money.
All you need to do, is see the town founded successfully, against all the odds stacked against you... and survive long enough to pluck the fruits of your labour.
It'll be hard work all the way, but isn't that just always the way of it?

Do you dare roll down the river to the Frontier, and help found a town?

= = = = = = = = = = = =

Pathfinder rules.

You start at character level 1.

Point-buy: 15 points.

All alignments allowed, but don't play them stupidly.
If you try using a CE alignment as an excuse for blindly attacking everyone around you, you're out. If you use a LG alignment as an excuse for attacking every non-human creature you see even if it hasn't done anything, you're out.

Maximum HP for first level; all following levels are half maximum +1.

Two traits. One drawback is allowed for one additional trait.

Hero points and feats related to them are in effect.

Background skills are in effect.

Variant multiclassing is NOT allowed.

Books allowed for character creation and -building during levelling (do NOT ask permission to use any others) are:
Core rulebook
Advanced player's guide
Ultimate magic
Ultimate combat
Advanced race guide (core, featured and uncommon races only, no self-made)
Advanced class guide
Occult adventures
Inner sea magic
Gods and magic
Faiths of balance
Faiths of corruption
Faiths of purity
The great beyond
Distant worlds
Dragon empires gazetteer
Technology guide
Paths of prestige

You start with average gold for your character class.

Those who want to set up a business in the founded town should invest in skills that reflect their plans.

Recruitment ends on the final day of February.
Pacing will occasionally be slow as RL takes precedence.

It never ceases to surprise me how the people I meet online come up with bits of unexpected knowledge and/or skills.
I'd like to test your abilities, dear forumites ... with some home-made codes. Have a look, have a try, pm me your solution if you've got one. Break one code and I'll try to come up with something more challenging.

Without further ado, then:
19-22-15-15-12-00-07-19-18-09-00-18-09-00-26-00-09-18-14-11-15-22-00-09-06- 25-09-07-18-07-06-07-18-12-13-00-24-18-11-19-22-09-00-06-08-18-13-20-00-13- 06-14-25-21-09-08-00-18-13-08-07-22-16-23-00-12-21-00-15-22-07-07-22-09-08- 00-04-22-09-22-00-02-12-06-00-08-14-26-09-07-00-22-13-12-06-20-19-00-07-12- 00-24-09-26-24-16-00-07-19-22-00-24-12-23-22-00

Let the discussions .... commence.

On a continent far across the Sovereign Sea, a butterfly flaps its wings. In ages gone by, such an inauspicious event could have been the start of hurricanes .... but those days are done.

In the beginning, there was the Age of Stone, when sentient beings huddled in their caves and great beasts ruled the world. It ended when mortals discovered fire and the working of stone and wood into weapons.
After the Age of Stone, there came the Age of Glorious Barbarism, when heroism and nobility lay cheek-by-jowl with brutality and cruelty; when the strength of one's arm and the keenness of one's blade were the determinators of merit. It ended with the death of a god and the birth of new gods.
After the Age of Stone, there came the Verdant Age, as mortals learned the ways of farming instead of foraging, of trade instead of raiding, of civilization. Land and mortal thrived together, then. It ended as great conquerors arose, who united the world.
Following the Verdant Age, there came the time of the Sunrise Empire when magic reigned supreme and the Fey races dominated the world. In the name of their aesthetic, they created magical cities that sang and shone, and ground all other life into the dirt under their heel. It ended in bloodshed and fire.
Next, there came the Empirical Empires, also known as the Secular Empires, when faith and magic waned and science reigned. Races that had been held back in the magic-rich times of the Sunset Empires thrived then, reaching for the stars in the sky and digging into the depths of their world, always eager to discover more. They died when something was discovered which should forever have remained a secret, and madness had consumed much of the world before it was made a secret again.
Sixth, there came the Evil Empire. Vice became virtue, cruelty was nobility, and a dark serenity gripped the world like a gauntlet, intent on choking light and hope out of the world in the name of order. In the end, it ended as the Sunrise Empire had because it had compressed chaos into too small a space, and it erupted.
The gods appeared to the people with a message of hope after the fall of the Evil Empires. They promised a Celestial Age and a renewal of the mortal world, but their promise became dust as the first Celestial Gathering was turned into a bloodbath through treachery, and some say hope died that day.

And now, it is the Age of Rue.
Let a thousand butterflies flap their wings, there will come no more hurricanes. No moonlight graces the nights, for the moons are gone, and no mortal seems to remember why this is so. There is no tide to stir the oceans. In some places, the waters bubble as the carcasses of great beasts rot in the depths, releasing noxious gases. In other places, the sea can be as smooth as glass for days.

But not today, for the butterfly has flapped its wings. A breeze has picked up, and it sweeps across the Sovereign Sea, rippling its surface. It sweeps into the harbour city of Theviss, one crumbling port among many, though not as many as in ages gone by. Ships still sail out from Theviss every day; little fishing boats, mostly, but there are also biremes and triremes, criss-crossing the waters under the power of indentured prisoners' muscles instead of wind and tide as was done in ages gone by.
The breeze finds its way through the narrow streets, blending the faint stench of ancient rot it picked up along the way with the fresher stenches of a city; raw sewage in the clogged sewers, garbage tipped into the Streets by uncaring home owners, the dung of camels .... all these things 'perfume' the air.

Standing in the Great Square, in front of the city gates, you are found by the breeze. A mixture of clean salt and foulness curls around your ankles and stings your nose as you wait by the statue of a headless equine while your employer, the white-feathered Tengu merchant Dageau, haggles for some last-minute supplies at the little stands that surround the square. He ordered you to wait here and watch his small cart and his two camels, not to mention the single box of mystery merchandise sitting in the cart.
Your little group is getting rather a lot of attention from the locals; not many people willingly travel anywhere these days, not without a sizeable caravan or a trireme around them. Small bands like yours, well .... More than one merchant from the little stands has made disturbing offers to literally buy the clothes off your back. "Go on, sell now!" one enthusiastic young man said. "What good is it to leave such fine clothes rotting in a ditch or a monster's nest somewhere? Sell it to me now!"
He left disappointed, of course, but people are still looking at you and muttering behind their hands. In addition, priests have gathered at Theviss' city gates, eyeing you with varying degrees of severity; a Cleric of Kebal in slate grey; a Cleric of Athelgarde in jet black; and a Cleric of Laelae in muted violet, his eyes vague and his smile benevolent.

Dageau is still doing a bit of dickering, though it seems he is wrapping up his affairs, so this seems like a golden opportunity for you to introduce yourselves to each other. After all, this is the first day you met, as you have gathered in response to Dageau's flyers and posters offering one hundred units of credit (gp) for those willing to protect him and his belongings on the week-long voyage from Theviss to an inland city called Ulak.

Wanted, for the grand task of escorting a tight-fisted merchant as he brings an order from one crumbling town to another, in a worn-down old world: five to six adventurers.

(Fair warning, the pace will likely be slow. Let's at least commit to a minimum of one post a week?)

Welcome, to Rue.
Once, this world was thriving, alive, the home of a thousand different empires peopled by species and tribes from all over the multiverse. Once this, world had a different name, but who can remember that now? Time has moved on, grinding mountains down into dust and everyone under Rue's moonless sky knows that this sad old world is breathing its last under the light of a red and fitful sun. Still, the last gasps of a dying world may still take centuries, and it could be ages yet before the sun goes out.
Or explodes.
And while worlds and stars take so much time to die, mortal creatures die far more easily. They can die of exposure, of hunger, of bone-deep sorrow. In order to stave off all such maladies, you have accepted the inglorious job of escorting this miserly merchant from the crumbling port city of Theviss to the even more weathered city of Ulak, deep in what was once prime Farmland, but is now mostly weeds surrounding the last farms keeping Ulak alive.
There is a week's worth of travel between Theviss and Ulak. A week in the weird and warped badlands that separate the last settlements clinging to a semblance of civilization. Old storytellers say the world's death has poisoned the minds of the wild creatures. You don't know whether that is true, but everyone knows the badlands are home to aggressive animals, monstrous beasts, and foul magic. You may well have your jobs cut out for you .... if you dare to go.

Character creation:
Level: 1
Alignment: All except Chaotic Evil.
Race: No restriction, save your selection must be found in the allowed sourcebooks. On Rue, races once considered monstrous are now accepted members of what passes for civilization, if only because they still have some vague lore of times when Rue was not gasping its last.
Ability scores: 20-point buy.
Classes: No restriction, save your selection must be found in the allowed sourcebooks.
Traits: Two. No drawbacks.
Starting gold: Average for class.
Equipment: Anything in the sourcebooks that you can afford.

Sourcebooks: Advanced class guide, Advanced players' guide, Advanced race guide, Core rulebook, Occult adventures, Ponyfinder campaign setting, Ultimate combat, Technology guide, Ultimate magic

Religion: Rue has its own pantheon of deities, survivors grimly hanging onto existence where all their comrades from before have faded away. If selecting a patron, be it as Cleric, Inquisitor or Oracle, or simply as your character's spiritual guide, please select from this list.

Athelgarde
The Only Queen
Ruthless, mirthless and relentless, Athelgarde is the last deity watching over the continuation of civilization. Her sole interest and purpose; to perpetuate city-based life in spite of all the forces of decay worrying at her territory. Consequently, her edicts are harsh and the actions of her black-robed clergy and the nobility sponsored by her church are .... equally uncompromising.
Alignment: LE
Portfolio: Cities, civilization, crafts, industry, sea-faring
Cleric alignments: LE, LN, NE
Domains: Artifice, Community, Evil, Law, Protection, Water
Subdomains: Defense, Home, Oceans, Purity, Toil, Tyranny
Favoured weapon: Heavy mace
Appearance/symbol: A beautiful woman, cast entirely of black iron

Kebal
The lord of Fate, the Doom of Rue.
Kebal is the deity of predestination, fate and entropy. His grey monasteries stand in most of the remaining cities, and his faith is everywhere. The grey-robed priests of Kebal remind people daily of the fact that their god is mightiest and his hand is upon Rue. Make your peace with the Doom, for fighting him is pointless and only hastens your end.
Alignment: LN
Portfolio: Doom, fate, predestination
Cleric alignments: LE, LN, N
Domains: Darkness, Death, Destruction, Law, Luck
Subdomains: Catastrophe, Curse, Fate, Loss
Favoured weapon: Ranseur
Appearance/symbol: A giant wrapped in stone armour, a horned helmet with lowered visor hiding his face

Laelae
The Dead Dancer, the Luminous
Laelae is the little sister and herald of Kebal, the princess of death and release. Where Kebal looms and threatens, Laelae passes through the lives of mortals as light as air, releasing them from pain and fear, ending their suffering.
Alignment: N
Portfolio: Death, freedom, mercy
Cleric alignments: CN, LN, N, NG
Domains: Air, Charm, Liberation, Repose
Subdomains: Freedom, Love, Souls, Wind
Favoured weapon: Dagger
Appearance/symbol: A waif-like humanoid of no particular species, her skin blue, her eyes and hair white, clothed only in a dark shroud.

Nevy-Nee
Charging Through Dreams
Nevy-Nee is the lady of dreams, both the source of grand fantasies and nightmares, each in fair measure to whichever mind is visited by her creations. She is also the elder sister of Petty-Boon.
While she may once have been a true guardian of the living, the same despair that lies upon the rest of Rue has also touched her. Nevy-Nee has retreated into dreams and refuses to leave them, spending the last days of Rue here, where her power is greatest still, so that when the end comes, it will at least not find her awake and aware.
Alignment: N
Portfolio: Dreams, omens, soothsaying
Cleric alignments: CN, LN, N, NE, NG
Domains: Chaos, Darkness, Madness, Trickery
Subdomains: Deception, Night, Nightmare
Appearance/symbol: A great nightmare with mane and tail of blue smoke, trailing off into infinity

Petty-Boon
Bard of the Impossible, Singer of Insanities
Petty-Boon, little brother of Nevy-Nee and lover of Vexat, is a stubborn holdover of the green and verdant days, considered naive by mortals and gods alike, and often ignored. His is a single voice crying out for mortals to hold on to hope and not give in to the cruelties of fate, whispering to fools and dreamers that the end may be approaching, but it is not unavoidable. Consequently, he and his church are considered to be anathema by the church of Kebal, and they are few and far between. In remarkable contrast, both the churches of Athelgarde and Vexat welcome the clergy of Petty-Boon, whose uplifting message helps keep people from falling into despair and madness.
Alignment: NG
Portfolio: Dance, Fauns, fertility, hope, Ponies, Satyrs, song, thought, travel
Cleric alignments: CG, LG, N, NG
Domains: Charm, Good, Knowledge, Travel
Subdomains: Exploration, Friendship, Love, Lust, Memory, Thought, Trade
Favoured weapon: Unarmed strike
Appearance: Petty-Boon is a known shapeshifter, and can appear in any of a Thousand guises. He is known to favour the shapes of Fauns and Satyrs, but is just as likely to appear as a goatherd or a wandering goat.
Symbol: Pan flute

Vexat
Mother of Chaos, Mother of Madness, Mother of Magic, Mother Vixen
Vexat, the undisputed queen of magic and chaos, is an ancient power, easily older than her eternal enemies Athelgarde and Kebal. Her following takes the form of shadowy cults who meet in stone circles in the wild or in catacombs and cellars, rather than official temples and churches, and her followers are few and far between -- and yet her faith has never weakened in all the ages of Rue. She was as strong in the distant stone age, as in the green and verdant days, as now in the dying days of the world. Her faithful say that when Rue dies, Vexat will be the one to give birth to a new world, and that she gave birth to Rue as well. Regardless whether this is true or not, it is a certainty that her followers continue to fight the oppressive forces of Kebal and Athelgarde as they have always done, seeking out youngsters to instruct in the secrets of magic and preserving ancient knowledge.
Alignment: CN
Portfolio: Art, chaos, creativity, foxes, Kitsune, magic
Cleric alignments: CE, CG, CN, N
Domains: Animal, Chaos, Charm, Knowledge, Magic
Subdomains: Arcane, Fur, Lust, Memory
Favoured weapon: Sword cane
Appearance: Like her lover Petty-Boon, Vexat is a known shapeshifter. She favours the shape of great foxes and shapely Kitsune, but can appear in any guise, anywhere.
Symbol: A nine-armed spiral, turning clockwise

A month ago...

For reasons all your own, you responded to the 'wanted'-posters, the rumours, or whatever else beckoned you to be in the Blinded Elephant at midnight.

As dive bars went, you supposed the Blinded Elephant was not too bad. The staff made a point of immediately killing and removing any roaches or rodents to brave the floor when there were customers about. Maybe the green lampshades made the place look a bit lugubrious, the emerald sheen making skin look pale and leprous, but even blackened by the light, the beer was of decent quality -- and as it turned out, your prospective employer had paid so you could eat and drink for free!

"Good evening and welcome," the tall, thin, well-dressed man said as he rose from the corner table and beckoned you over. "My name is Mr. Johnson. I am very glad that you have decided to respond to my annonce. Please have a seat, dinner will be out soon."

You ate and drank on the customer's dime. For some of you, this meant you had the first square meal you'd had for quite a while, now. After the cheeseboard had been cleared away -- and the wait staff had removed the body of a rat that ran across the table in a mad dash for the sliced camembert -- Mr. Johnson got down to business.

"I sit before you as a man bereaved, my friends. As much as fifty years ago, my family was robbed most egregiously. Some scurrulous thief broke into our home and stole a box. Not just any box, but a treasure box. An heirloom box, even! The delight of my grandmother, may Abadar keep her soul in his Vault as the valuable thing it is. We are a family of some means, as you may have guessed, and our security staff was after the rogue in short order. But such a clever scoundrel! He boarded a ship with perfect timing, and off he was across the Inland Sea! Where it went? No one knew! The manifest said it was to dock in Vudran, but it never arrived there. Where was the ship? Where was the thief? Where was our priceless heirloom box? No one knew! A mystery! A tragedy! A farce! And so we remain uncertain -- or we remained so until last month. Wreckage sighted on an Island near a reef known very dramatically as 'the Widowmaker', by a ship which belongs to my family. A description handed up to me, references checked -- this must be the ship which had carried away my inheritence, my last memento of dear Grandmama! But how to proceed? Oceanfaring ships may not approach Widowmaker for fear of their hull being torn all asunder. Small ships may get there with luck, but to send my salty sailors and lead them into temptation of light-fingered behaviour? Unthinkable! But you doughty folk, heroes of the truest character, mercenaries well-used to doing a job as ordered? Ah..."

Mr. Johnson smiled then, and made you the Offer. One of his family ships was to take you to Widowmaker, and the Island that lies within its deadly embrace. Once there, a rowboat would be given to you, with which you must pass through the one gap in Widowmaker, and then make ground on the Island of Hope Lost ("Another very dramatic name, such playwrights our salty sailors would make!") and cross it to the other shore, where the wrecked ship awaits. Once there, you are to enter, find the heirloom box and retrieve it. Next, retrace your steps to the shore where you landed, and there stand ready to row out to the next ship to pass, for the family has already arranged for such.
Upon return to Absalom, you will hand over the box and receive one hundred pieces of gold per head. If any of you should lose your head while in service to the family, your share will be divided among the survivors.
Mr. Johnson offers you all a purse with an additional hundred pieces of gold, to share and pay for any last-minute shopping you should like to do. All that remains to be asked is: "Will you take the job?"

Introduce yourselves to each other, roleplay, and discuss what you should like to buy from your new party funds. Once that is out of the way, we move on to Widowmaker and Lost Hope. ^_^

Everybody pile in....

Greetings!

After many a scrape, our merry band has made a treaty with Kobolds and Mites, defeated a brigand lord, rediscovered an old temple, killed a bunch of unreasonable creatures..... and received the right to rule over the land!

We're ready for the coronation and to get started on the next phase of the Kingmaker AP (Trolls have already tried to meddle in our treaty with the Kobolds), but it seems that our DM is no longer available.

We really want to continue into the next chapter of the AP. Many adventures still await and we are eager to meet the challenge!
Are you a DM interested in running Kingmaker with: An Aasimar Mysterious stranger/Sorcerer/Spellslinger, a Half-Elf Hunter, a Tiefling Oracle/Paladin, a Winter Witch and their assorted animal sidekicks? ( Can you take the comedic byplay? ;) )
If so, come meet us here and help save our burgeoning kingdom from oblivion!

The task before you is so easy!
All you need to do is go to a tropical island, scavenge an old, wrecked ship, and retrieve an heirloom box for your employer - but don't open it.
You will receive 100 gp per person for your troubles, plus travel expenses. The only wrinkle is having to wait for a ship to collect you after you have done the deed, but it has been chartered.
Who wouldn't want such an easy job...?

Looking for a maximum of 6 characters.
1st level only.
Background skills allowed.
Two traits from the APG allowed.
All species from CRB and ARG allowed.
All classes, archetypes, skills and feats from CRB, APG, ACG, UC, UM, OA, Inner Sea Magic allowed.
All alignments except CE allowed.
Maximum starting gold at first level.

Please provide at least two paragraphs of backstory, and include an explanation as to why you're desperate enough to take the job.

Something blotted out the sun overhead and you looked up.

Darkness.

Darkness.

Music.

It is music that intrudes on the darkness and gradually drags you back to awareness.

Happy music, a simple tune that repeats endlessly, the volume raised enough to force people to raise their voices to be heard.

It takes you a few moments before you can dredge up a word that explains why this music seems so familiar. It's something from... before.
Before... what?
Something from your childhood. You remember going to a funfair when you were little, and the entertainers blasted this music the livelong day. You remember candies, and rides, and other simple entertainments that had you so excited you felt like jumping and running the whole time you were there with... with...

With who?

You cannot recall. There is only the bright, dancing phantasm of your own time at the funfair, sometime long ago.
With a shock, you realize that that is literally true. That is all you can recall of your past. A dim memory of looking up at something that blotted out the sun, a sensation of falling through darkness while eldritch voices laughed and shrieked, and your childhood day of untainted joy at the fair.
Oh, you can recall languages -- but not who taught you to speak them, nor conversations you might have had in them. You can probably speak without trouble, but you cannot remember whether there is anyone you might speak with. Do you have friends in the world? Family?
The world... You do not remember where in the world you are from, nor where in the world you might be.
Panic clutches at your throat and your eyes fly open.

You find yourselves, lying stark naked in a grassy field, ringed around by brightly painted wagons. Within the circle of wagons, a circle of mirrors, surrounding you. Over the wagons, you can see the tops of tall tents, pennants fluttering in the breeze.
That music you heard before is filling the air -- the air, scented with the perfume of sugary treats and treats fried in batter.

None of this looks at all familiar.

Nor are the creatures you find lying nearby, their strange forms reflected endlessly in the mirrors -- and you realize your own form is among those reflections.
A burly, green-skinned creature with rough features and small tusks.
An equine creature -- with feathery wings.
A pale-skinned humanoid, gaunt, with pale, sunken eyes it tries to shield from the brilliant sun overhead.
A rodent of unusual size, which turns out to be capable of standing upright.

As you all stagger to your feet, be it two or four, you discover small piles of clothing lying near each of you, except for the equine. They look like they might fit you. As you start to reach for these little bundles, names suddenly flash into your minds, bright as stars, painful as fire. Even when the initial stab of pain has faded, you are left with a dull, throbbing ache in the backs of your heads.

Kethys.
Midnight Frost.
Szerith.
Tigwith.

Your own names. That is something, surely. But apart from that name and the dim memories from before, you have... nothing.

Nothing...

Discussion thread now open for business! ^_^

I am still expecting one character submission, but he'll catch us up. Let's kick this party off with a bang! -- or with carnival music, anyway. ;)

I obviously haven't learned my lesson about not starting games as GM...

Fair warning: this game will move with painful slowness at times as other matters swallow my time. If you're not prepared for that, it's probably best not to apply. ^^;

The premise
Greetings, and welcome to recruitment for a game idea I came up with: Against the Cycle.
Your great challenge: finding clues, unravelling mysteries and surviving battles, all for the purpose of getting you home from the strange places and distant times you will find yourself thrown into. If all goes well, there will be several chapters of your quest for home. The wrinkle: you are not all from the same time and place. The upset: you're not entirely sure where and when you're from... or even who.

When Funfair starts, you all find yourselves on -- you've guessed it -- the grounds of a funfair. This much is familiar to all of you. Some small details will seem off about it to some of you, though. Cotton candy-making machines will seem extremely odd to some, for instance. Stranger still will be the fact that you, the players, will find the fair deserted apart from yourselves.
This is where it starts. Where it stops... You'll find out as you go.

Character creation
Character creation will be a bit unusual.

* Now we get to the wrinkle.
I would like you to write up your character's backstory (at least two paragraphs' worth, detailing childhood, early adulthood and family), but all your stories end with a day that was supposed to be perfectly normal... until something suddenly blotted out the sun. You looked up -- and there your memories end, until you wake up at the Funfair.
And to make matters worse, when you do wake up at the Funfair, you will not remember your backstory.

When awakening at the 'Fair, you will be without memories... and without your equipment. You will awaken with the shirt on your back (as appropriate to creature type), and that is it. Please rest assured that your equipment is on the grounds, and that you will have the opportunity to reclaim it when you come across it.

* Oh, yes. There is no Common language; fill that language slot up with a language appropriate to your racial bonus languages.
But hey, you all get a bonus language: Androffan! Now won't that be nice...?

Are you still here? Still with me? Still interested?
If so, you have until next Sunday to set up your character concepts and intrigue me. Seven will be selected to play... but how many will survive the fun and games awaiting you at the Funfair...?

I obviously haven't learned my lesson about not starting games as GM...

Fair warning: this game will move with painful slowness at times as other matters swallow my time. If you're not prepared for that, it's probably best not to apply. ^^;

The premise
Greetings, and welcome to recruitment for a game idea I came up with: the Cycle.
Your great challenge: finding clues, unravelling mysteries and surviving battles, all for the purpose of getting you home from the strange places and distant times you will find yourself thrown into. If all goes well, there will be several chapters of your quest for home. The wrinkle: you are not all from the same time and place. The upset: you're not entirely sure where and when you're from... or even who.

When Funfair starts, you all find yourselves on -- you've guessed it -- the grounds of a funfair. This much is familiar to all of you. Some small details will seem off about it to some of you, though. Cotton candy-making machines will seem extremely odd to some, for instance. Stranger still will be the fact that you, the players, will find the fair deserted apart from yourselves.
This is where it starts. Where it stops... You'll find out as you go.

Character creation
Character creation will be a bit unusual.[/b]

* Now we get to the wrinkle.
I would like you to write up your character's backstory (at least two paragraphs' worth, detailing childhood, early adulthood and family), but all your stories end with a day that was supposed to be perfectly normal... until something suddenly blotted out the sun. You looked up -- and there your memories end, until you wake up at the Funfair.
And to make matters worse, when you do wake up at the Funfair, you will not remember your backstory.

When awakening at the 'Fair, you will be without memories... and without your equipment. You will awaken with the shirt on your back (as appropriate to creature type), and that is it. Please rest assured that your equipment is on the grounds, and that you will have the opportunity to reclaim it when you come across it.

* Oh, yes. There is no Common language; fill that language slot up with a language appropriate to your racial bonus languages.
But hey, you all get a bonus language: Androffan! Now won't that be nice...?

Are you still here? Still with me? Still interested?
If so, you have until next Sunday to set up your character concepts and intrigue me. Seven will be selected to play... but how many will survive the fun and games awaiting you at the Funfair...?

Is there an option for me to contact an admin via private message on a sensitive matter? Or if an admin reads this and contacts me via pm, that would be super. It is rather urgent.

Now opening the new Discussion thread...!
Let's hope this fixes all the previous problems.

You have come a long way.

What started out as simple caravan guard duty, accompanying the Lady Valeria of House Jeggare from her home in Imperial Cheliax to meet her fiancé, the young knight Doritian of Andor, so they could be married and cinch a peace treaty between their two nations, devolved into a mad quest.

The caravan was attacked by a tribe of Goblins called the Red Debbulls, but those you could have beaten without too much trouble. Alas, the Lady Valeria was kidnapped by a Keleshite Wizard whose name you have learned is Xorshak, and who took the Lady to his tower stronghold in the mountains.

Braving peril upon peril, surviving Kytons, Orcs, an Ogre, and managing to bypass two terrible shrines without losing your souls, you won all the way to the top of the tower, only to face vilest treachery. Doritian was there, and admitted to having chartered Xorshak to abduct and kill Lady Valeria in such a way that Andor would not be implicated and his bloodline would remain clean of Chelish influences.

You did battle there, brave battle, defeating Doritian, the Debbull chief Bangu-Bangu, the mad Chelish noblewoman Secunda Jeggare, and even Xorshak -- or so you thought. The Wizard had already departed, leaving behind a Simulacrum in his place. You rescued Lady Valeria, but she has been through considerable hardship and only wants to return home. Carrying her, the catatonic body of Doritian - whose very soul is in jeopardy at the hands of the terrible goddess Dhalavei - with you, you escaped the tower just before it collapsed.

Thence, you returned to Apol's Thorp to rest and resupply before taking up the journey to grim Cheliax. Alas, such a welcome awaited you...

*disclaimer: the following is a fictional introduction of the setting and not meant to offend any Americans or Russians real or unreal, living or undead*

As seen on a public announcement board:

It is good to live in America in the Sixties! Your Uncle Sam wants you to do your part for Mom and Apple Pie, so you've got your job cut out for you! America is the best place in the world to live! The number of jobs that need to be done to safeguard Peace, Freedom and Democracy are endless, so you kids need to study hard, you adults need to knuckle down, and you all need to do your part for the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave! Work hard, and your Country will reward you for your labour.

*Rumours that both emigration and immigration have been disallowed because the threat of Nuclear War has left Uncle Sam, Mom and the Apple Pie paranoid about Rusky spies and saboteurs are Lies and Sedition, and as such punishable by Detention at the Government's Pleasure.*

America, Great Melting Pot of the World! Here, the industrious descendants of Europe's brave explorers have, after shrugging off the chains of the old countries, settled and joined in Equality and Harmony to make a Better, Brighter Future! With the Freedom Marches of the fifties concluded, America has shown the lie of socialist propaganda, which dared to claim that discrimination stained our noble Red-White-&-Blue! Every loyal citizen is equal under the Law, no matter the colour of their skin, the number of appendages on their body or the beliefs they practice in the privacy of their own home, and opportunities exist for everyone who applies themselves and shows loyalty to the Good Old U.S. of A.!!!

*Protest marches currently forbidden under the law against illegal gatherings so as not to disrupt public life. Workers' unions currently forbidden under the law against illegal gatherings under suspicion of Rusky involvement. Claims of discrimination based on species, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, race, political beliefs, gender et al. must be submitted to your local Police Station and Nowhere Else. Do not undertake any independent action before you have been contacted by Local Police.*

So in short, if you are a Citizen of America, you are one Lucky Duck! You are living in the world's Mighty, Throbbing Heart of Freedom and Prosperity! While the world beyond our borders teeters on the brink of War, America stands in Peace and Strength. Our Armies are mightier than those of all our enemies, our Economy is more stable than the Rock of Gibraltar, and our People are Hap-Hap-Happier than any other! So turn that frown upside-down and ask not what your Country can do for you -- it's already doing it! You are living in Paradise on Earth, Lucky Duck, so start asking what you can do for your Country. Remember, Mom and Apple Pie need you, and Uncle Sam is always watching. If you find yourself at a loose end, come see a recruiting officer at your local army base, or present yourself at the unemployment office. Just as you need America, America Needs You!

*Rumours that citizens approaching to within one mile of the international borders have been shot are Lies and Sedition. Rumours that the ongoing disruption to air traffic has been engineered by the government are Lies and Sedition. Rumours that the ongoing disruption to sea travel has been engineered by the government are Lies and Sedition. As such, these rumours are all punishable by Detention at the Government's Pleasure.*

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Welcome to a version of sixties-era America. There are a few differences; the world you live in is not merely populated by humans (modern evolutionists denounce the idea that a single species could be dominant on a whole world, when there are so many ecological niches to fill as science fiction), but also by other species. The Cold War is already in full swing, and America is Knuckling Down! This means that, as the introductory pamphlet (see above) mentioned, public gatherings and unions have been outlawed.

Your well-trained, friendly Policemen are really cracking down on those long-haired, dope-headed, work-shy, socialist Hippies, so no need to worry, citizens!

Private, social gatherings are in full swing, however, what with kids experimenting with pot in their parents' basements and adults gathering to discuss their jobs, their old army exploits and the trouble with young people these days. (That and key parties...)

*Any private gatherings suspected of serving seditious purposes are defined as Actions Preparatory to Treason and are by Law permitted to be broken up with Necessary Force, all participants to be detained at the Government's Pleasure.*

While the government is constantly telling its citizens that they're so happy here that they don't need to even think about leaving and that they really need to Knuckle Down for America, the average citizen's main concern is, as always, to make enough money to pay for rent, food and amenities. The more intellectual worry that the nation is living under the threat of nuclear war, however. With emigration, immigration and civilians' access to communication across the border having been cut off completely since the end of the Second World War leaves these intellectuals highly nervous as to what is going on in the wider world -- but mostly, they remain silent.

*Rumours that people who have questioned Government Policy have been abducted by Government Officials and remain missing without record of trial are Lies and Sedition.*

In any case, for all intents and purposes, America is your whole world.
Sure, you've read about Europe, Russia and other parts of the world during social studies, you're learning their languages in class, but you've never actually been there or even met someone who remembers living there. Some of the really old Elves might remember, but those all live the high life in their gated communities in Virginia. How would a common kid like you ever get to talk to those rich snobs?
Old soldiers (like your dad or grandad) still talk about the battles they were involved in, but even they were kept apart from the locals when they were shipped out.

*Rumours that American soldiers were ordered to shoot any natives approaching bases during foreign deployment on sight are Lies and Sedition. Rumours that our brave soldiers stationed abroad did not know most of the time who they were fighting or why are Lies and Sedition.*

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Should you take up the challenge to live in this world, you are currently a teenager attending Howard Memorial Highschool in Port August. Your mission in life is simple (according to your parents and the posters on the public notice boards, anyway): Get good grades, find a socially acceptable mate (a spouse of the opposite gender and the same species as you capable of conceiving offspring) and either move onto work or further education once you've finished high school. Prestigious extracurricular activities are a decided plus.
(Secretly, you know your real mission in life is to experience the pleasures of sex, booze and pot, as well as show off in front of and have lots of fun with your friends and peers, but your folks would probably kill you if they found.)

Life is perfectly normal. Then one day, you're in the school library doing research for a sociology project -- and the Monkey appears. You and the others present find yourselves under attack by the hideous brute, fighting for your very lives to survive. Things go decidedly downhill from there, as you will soon discover that life in these altered States of America is far stranger than you had previously suspected...

As is Reality Itself.
*Interference detected. Rebooting signal.*

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Character creation:
Starting level: One.

*

Alignment: Any other than Chaotic Evil.

*

Ability scores: 15-pt. buy.

*

HP: Maximum + Con. modifier at 1st level. Half max. + Con. modifier at following levels.

*

Character classes: Your first class level must be in Expert; you are an 'average kid' (if such a beast exists) growing up in a 'civilized' society (a post-industrial one, anyway), and as such have no experience that could lead to your starting as one of the regular character classes. As you advance in levels, however, you can receive training to acquire survival skills not needed in 'normal' life. Surviving long enough to reach higher levels requires you to think as well as act; play cleverly.

This is not to say that you can not have any combat training.
Sports clubs do exist, and you may have taken lessons in boxing or some martial art (or just be a bully who likes beating up social inferiors) granting you access to Improved Unarmed Strike or Catch Off-Guard or something similar.
Likewise, you may have an interest in tales of magic and wonderment, granting you access to skills like Knowledge (arcana) because you have researched the subject in your spare time.

*

Character races: Please select one from the following list: Aasimars, Catfolk, Changelings, Dhampirs, Drow, Dwarves, Gnomes, Goblins, Half-Elves, Half-Orcs, Hobgoblins, Humans, Ifrits, Kitsune, Kobolds, Nagaji, Orcs, Oreads, Ratfolk, Strix, Sulis, Sylphs, Tengus, Tieflings, Undines.

Note that, despite the public announcement's claims, discrimination is very common in these Altered States of America.
*Lies and Sedition detected! Contact your Local Police at once or be considered implicit in these acts of Lies and Sedition!*

Aasimars, Dwarves, Half-Elves, Humans, Ifrits, Oreads, Sulis, Sylphs and Undines are 'first-class citizens', the cream of society, the proud descendants of the first colonists (who killed a lot of the natives and stole their land), as opposed to all the later immigrants, to wit:

Catfolk, Changelings, Dhampirs, Drow, Gnomes, Kitsune and Strix are considered to be 'second-grade citizens', and seen roughly on par with Gypsies in our own world.

Goblins, Half-Orcs, Hobgoblins, Kobolds, Nagaji, Orcs, Ratfolk, Tengu and Tieflings are 'third-class citizens' and commonly considered to be 'freaks' with criminal tendencies, even if they are law-abiding citizens.

*

Starting wealth: You start with 50 gp, otherwise known as fifty dollars. Invest it wisely or put it in the bank. (What do you expect? You're living on an allowance.) Invest this money wisely, and in the knowledge that your parents (if you have any) have probably provided for school supplies and necessary clothing. (Howard Memorial Highschool has a uniform. You will wear it.) No magical gear at 1st level; magic is not a common part of this setting.
That you know of.

*

Traits: You get two of these, which you can draw from the APG, Faiths of Balance, Faiths of Corruption and/or Faiths of Purity. You may also decide to select one of the Setting Traits. Please do not select from the APG's section of campaign traits.
Drawbacks are allowed, but only if they can be integrated with the setting. The feat Additional Traits from the APG is likewise allowed.

Blood Immemorial:
You may not know it, but yours is a pedigree that goes back even further than the proudest grandparent might care to speculate about.
Upside: Once a day, you may use Detect thoughts as a spell-like ability. This is an inheritance from some distant ancestor who possessed uncommon psychic power. Save DC is Cha.-based, as you unleash this power through some raw, vital force, rather than focused study.
Downside: Your mind is unusually weak against psychic invasion. You take a -2 to Will saves against mind-affecting effects, such as charm, compulsion, or attempts to read your thoughts.

Broken Home:
Maybe your dad was laid off from work some time ago. Maybe one of your parents walked out on the family before you were old enough to understand why they were unhappy - or selfish - enough to do that. Maybe you're the unwanted child of an interspecies dalliance and a ward of the state, growing up in an orphanage. Whatever the case, your home life is decidedly less than ideal. This has hardened you; you weather life's difficulties if not with ease, then at least with stoicism.
Upside: You gain a +1 to Will saves.
Downside: You start with a social stigma, gaining a -1 to Bluff and Diplomacy checks against known authority figures and your supposed peers.

Social Outcast:
You see them at every highschool; the kids that don't fit in with their peer groups, the 'weird' kids with the interests no one shares. Solitude, scorn and bullying have left their scars on you, but you have gained something from your loneliness.
Upside: Take a +1 to one Knowledge skill of your choice. This Knowledge skill is always a class skill for you. You also take a +1 to Initiative, as you have learned to be wary of danger in your everyday life.
Downside: You take a -2 to saves vs. fear and Intimidation.

Superstar:
You see these people at every highschool, too; the ace of the football team, the prom queen candidate, the kids already modelling for toothpaste and underwear commercials. You stand at the top of your social pyramid -- but if you are wise, you will realize you have a long way to fall...
Upside: You possess a +1 trait bonus to Bluff and Diplomacy vs. known authority figures. You're a rockstar at your school and everyone knows it!
Downside: You take a -1 to Perception and Sense motive. Your total assurance of yourself sometimes blinds you to hidden hostility...

*

Feats & Skills:
Feel free to draw these from the CR, APG, ARG, UM, UC and ACG, so long as you can justify them in the given setting and with your character background.

*

Available patrons:

These Altered States of America primarily worship Lissala, goddess of civic obedience. References to 'rune magic' in holy scripture are generally considered the remnants of more primitive forms of worship, or even as metaphors. While the Government claims that the USA have freedom of religion, no known worshiper of any of the other, 'pagan' gods is likely to achieve a high position in life. (Of course, covert worshipers can get anywhere so long as they are clever.)

*

Alseta came to America from Eastern Europe, and is relatively popular among the lower strate of society. Because she is considered a patron of travellers and the current climate disallows travel across the borders, this faith has been marginalized in the media.

*

The faith of Aroden comes from western Europe and is semi-alive and well in the Altered States. Seen as the hearth god of humanity, Aroden is generally treated as the result of old pagan creation myths, just like the other hearth gods. Modern science often downplays Aroden as a grandiose father figure and an expression of humanity's deep-seated need to appear to be special in all ways.

*

The worship of Asmodeus came to the Americas with Italian immigrants. Nowadays, the lord of devils is even more marginalized than some of the other 'pagan' faiths due to old power struggles between his faith and that of Lissala -- which Asmodeus' clergy lost. Modern science suggests he may be the hearth god of the tiefling tribes, but spokesmen for the more vocal tiefling groups violently deny this.

*

Brigh is a goddess whose worship has never been very vocal, and it continues as a whisper today -- but it does continue. The Whisper in Bronze is heard most often at the colleges and research institutes of America, where it has taken on the form of a secret society for the intelligentia. Rumours that these societies hoard seditious documents and are involved with treasonous activity keep the faith even more low-profile than its own tendencies would do.

*

Although Calistria is known to be the hearth goddess of the Elves and the Drow, her faith having travelled with them from their old holdings on the African continent, she has been disinherited by the aristocratic Elves now living in the gated communities of Virginia because she 'presents the wrong image'. In contrast, the Drow clinging to the lower strata of society are devout in their worship of the Savoured Sting -- yet another thing reducing their chances in modern society. In recent years, Calistria-worship has become synonimous with prostitution and (dis)organized crime. Dark tongues whisper that she is fast on her way to becoming the main patron of major crime syndicates.

*

Nivi Rhombodazzle is a much better-known figure in the Altered States of America than she is on Golarion. Known as the hearth goddess of the Gnomes, her faith travelled with them from England and its colonies, and she has become a fixture in the modern media. Seen mostly as a laughable figure, probably the outgrowth of an old faerytale, Nivi Rhombodazzle is used as a trickster figure in any number of folk tales and cartoons. The Gnomes, who enjoy a joke and a good trick as much as anyone, just smile at this portrayal of their goddess.

*

The faith of Pharasma endures, but in a much reduced form. The gods may all worship her, but mortalkind does not -- or at least, not in large numbers. A growing obsession with health and longevity causes many Americans to shun her altars and holy places, and the priesthood has to work hard to be able to compete with secular companies that offer to arrange funerals and the services surrounding them.

*

Shimye-Magalla is a name seen in ancient history books and in graffiti on the walls of Lissala's temples. A composition not just of the lost names of Desna and Gozreh, but also of countless other gods and spirits once worshiped by America's natives and slaves brought to toil on American farmlands, the composite deity is seen as a patron of the oppressed and those in tune with a nature which is being abused by modern industry. Wildly unpopular with the government and the church of Lissala, Shimye-Magalla is demonized in the modern media and mostly worshipped by the lowest strata of society.

*

Where there are Dwarves, there is Torag, or so say the grey-bearded Dwarven elders. Unfortunately for them, society moves on, and many younger Dwarves are starting to bow to the altars of Lissala for the better opportunities she grants them in modern society. Modern media describe the Father of Dwarves as a hearth god and a patron of outdated crafts, further marginalizing his worship.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Still with me after all that? Still interested? Yes? Good! I am looking for five to six players to venture into this brave new world and face the Monkey in the Library (and assorted other horrors). I like a few paragraphs of backstory from my players. Just a thought. ;)
Updating will likely be slow and hiatuses are probably inevitable, but I'll try to keep going so long as everyone's having fun.

*Rumours that the DM intends to subject you to injury, horror, death and attempts at comedy are Lies and Sedition!*

Except when they're not rumours.

*Interference detected. Rebooting signal.*

Now open for business! Roll call?

It is a beautiful summer's day. The soft chime of the horses' tack mixes with the dull thud of foot and hoof on the dirt track, creating an almost hypotic rhythm. The chirp of songbirds in the trees is soothing, pleasant.

The warm sun directly overhead manages to dispel the gloom of the Whisperwood somewhat. The underbrush is still tangled like the fingers of a pleading beggar or the limbs of a dying spider, the trees' canopy still cast an oppressive gloom, but at least they have been cut well back from the path you are travelling. As long as you don't look too closely and the sun is out, this place is almost beautiful.

And even with the Whisperwood's less pleasant qualities, you feel relieved to be here. The end of the first leg of this trip is nigh; the rendezvous-point is just another day's march away. Tomorrow evening, you will meet up with the Andoran delegacy, and Lady Valeria Jeggare will have her first official meeting with the young knight Doritian. After that, it's on to Andoran for the marriage ceremony, after which you get to go... wherever it is you wish to go, once you have received your due reward.

It was impressed on you quite strongly that receiving any kind of reward at all is entirely contingent on Lady Valeria reaching Andoran alive and in good spirits. The send-off from House Jeggare's opulent mansion was very festive for the people who were not actually going; for you all, it was a grim affair, full of menace; the House's bodyguards were eyeing you all and thumbing their crossbows as Lord Jeggare gave his farewell speech.

Fortunately, the trip has been going very well so far. Lady Valeria is definitely in good health and high spirits. You know so because, once the city walls had disappeared behind the horizon, the sixteen- (or possibly seventeen-) year old lady opened the curtains of her sedan chair and stared out at the wide world despite her governess' shrill objections.

It had been a while since you had seen such sparkling eyes and such a brilliant smile on the face of a Chelish noblewoman, even one as young and beautiful as Lady Valeria. She shows none of the reservedness and arrogance you might have expected from someone of her rank and station, and instead seems to consider the whole outing to be a grand adventure.

More than once, you have all felt the young Lady's eyes upon you and caught her looking at you as if you were some kind of rare animal or plant, or maybe a mystery to be solved.

Likewise, whenever you had the unmitigated gall to meet Lady Valeria's eyes, you have felt the disapproving glare of the young Lady's governess and cousin. Then there is the sternly disapproving gaze of Brother Gorlist, the Asmodean priest assigned as Lady Valeria's chaplain (and more than likely the Asmodean who will preside over the first engagement ceremony). Both those stares pale in comparison with the dire glower of the captain of the small retinue of bodyguards that forms the inner circle of steel around the sedan chair. You yourselves are, of course, the outer circle of steel around her on this trip.

Fortunately, the trip so far has been perfectly peaceful.

So far.

There are, of course, odd noises in the forest from time to time. The nights are worst, and sometimes you'd swear you felt something was following the small caravan.

The unthinkable has happened.
Peace talks have broken out between Andoran and Cheliax! Despite many, many setbacks in the diplomatic process and numerous objections from many Andoran and Chelish nobles, slow progress has been made, and a pivotal point has been reached.

A marriage has been arranged between a young Chelish noblewoman and the son of a longstanding member of the Andoran Ruling Council.

Seeing as there are still plenty of people who would prefer to end the diplomatic process (and the courtship) with a sharp knife or some quick poison, it has been decided to bring the two young people together for their first in secret, in a neutral location in the Whisperwood.

YOU have the noble mission of escorting the young lady from Cheliax to the location in the Whisperwood, to meet her Andoran fiancé and escort both of them onward to Andoran.
And of course... it all goes terribly wrong.
Will YOU go forth to Rescue The Princess...?

NO CE characters.
20 pt. build
Hero points allowed
Two traits at character creation. You may choose to take a drawback, in which case you can have a third trait.
Maximum starting gold at 1st level.
Maximum hp at 1st level. At all following levels, half maximum plus 1 plus Con. modifier.
At least two paragraphs of backstory, a description, and a good reason why you might have been selected by House Jeggare to escort their young flower to her engagement.

Sourcebooks.

Core rulebook
Advanced player´s guide
Ultimate magic
Ultimate combat
Advanced race guide
Inner sea magic
Gods and magic
Humans of Golarion
Goblins of Golarion
Humans of Golarion
Orc of Golarion
Blood of Angels
Blood of Fiends

WARNING.
I have advertised for this campaign on a different site as well. There are four people who have right of first refusal, and I want a party of seven at the most.

Updating will not be very fast, but I will try to at least have a new post for you on a weekly basis.

If this first adventure goes well, there will be more adventure to follow this first dungeon/crawl.

What it says in the subject title. ^^ Is any DM interested in running these adventure paths? 'Cause I can think up some characters interested in playing them!

A common opinion of androids as constructs seems to be that they do not have souls.

We know from the Advanced Player's Guide that a Summoner eventually starts sharing their soul with their eidolon, as their connection grows stronger and stronger.

Now, if an android manages to unlock the mysteries of the Summoner class and progresses far enough to get to the point where the soul-sharing begins...

... would the android start sharing the soul or similar spiritual essence of their eidolon? Would the android then be able to survive its physical body, be it as a part of the eidolon, or even in an actual afterlife?

Greetings and salutations, all DMs who have access to the Carrion Crown adventure path and have the time and energy to take on a group that has made it to the second chapter, Trial of the Beast!

Right here, you will find DM Corvus' game. We have a fun, enthusiastic and interesting group, ready to continue, but alas... our DM is unable to continue with us!

Dare you be our active, creative, and - very importantly - mature DM? Will you take on this adventure, this challenge, and lead us adventurers through the fetid darkness of Ustalav -- or deeper into it? On behalf of the Hawthorn Society, I welcome your interest -- not to mention your applications. ;)

The discussion thread is now open for business.

Both players and spectators are welcomed here, so put up your feet and sit a spell. ;)

This evening, there is a cold wind blowing in from the Lake.
The air smells of dead fish and dark water, and who knows what may stir in its depths?

Clearvale-by-the-Lake is a misnamed city; this is something everyone can agree on.
When people first came to settle this spot by the lake, black-bellied clouds often rolled down from the mountains to deposit their cargo of rain, sleet and snow. Fogs rose every morning and evening, some diaphanous, others thick as pea soup.
Once the city stood, the smoke from a thousand hearths mixed with the low clouds and the rising fogs, scenting both with the perfume of burning wood and roasting dinners. Soot started to stain the walls and roads of the growing city, but in those days, the problem was still manageable.
Then Clearvale-by-the-Lake grew rich as a centre of trade -- and industry. The factories in the Heavy Industry-district belch out their black, polluted smokes day and night. From the Trades and Crafts-district, fumes rise, spawned by crucibles and mixing vats. Stenches rise from the revolutionary sewer system and the city's slaughterhouses.
The smell of wealth is a vile stench, carried on the fog. Depending on the prevailing wind, the whole city can reek like an alchemist's laboratory, or like an open midden. The layer of soot that descends from the thousands of chimneys has become a permanent coating on some areas of the city. In others, only tireless and backbreaking labour prevents every stone surface from becoming black and sticky.

The Nobles' District is one such area. After sundown, long after the government Alchemists have been about their duty of lighting the city's revolutionary streetlights, convicted criminals are driven through its streets in silence. These wretches scrub and polish every surface they are allowed to, and no one else is allowed out on the street while they labour under the unforgiving eyes of their overseers.
Private residences are kept scrupulously clean by its staff, or the unflagging attentions of house Mages, who are paid a small fortune every year to keep homes and gardens looking pristine and to ward the vile-smelling fogs away from noble noses.

Dulapont Manor apparently no longer has a House Mage, nor a staff capable of keeping its grounds looking pristine and elegant.

As you approach the Manor, you notice a pall upon the sidewalk. The granite walls look stained, with small pockmarks forming in its surface. Past the wrought-iron fence, you see a dying garden, the beautiful flower-beds and rose bushes wilting, the tree leafless and blackened, the ornamental fish pond empty of life.
Dulapont Manor itself reminds you of a dying warrior on the battlefield, continuing to stand through pure force of will. But the windows resemble blackened eyes, with their curtains drawn. The marble has turned grey, the slate tiles suffer from a patina that looks like mould.
Even though you know people still live here, the Manor looks like a haunted house.

The servant sitting in the little gatehouse seems surprised to see you. When you state the reason for your visit, he nervously licks his lips, starts to say something -- but in the end, he just ducks his head, opens the gate and waves you through.
"Go 'round back," he mutters. "Tradesman's entrance. The uh, the young -- Master Jeremy has ordered it. ... The front door's jammed, and the paneller won't be here until morning."

For several generations, the Dulapont family has been a byword for wealth, excellent breeding, patriottism and loyalty to the crown in the city-state of Clearvale-by-the-Lake.

The most recent generation showed great promise. Mme. Marite Dulapont, the current matron, had managed to maintain the family's fortunes and its good relationship with the crown despite the untimely death of her husband, François, and had raised their two sons well despite her refusal to remarry. Traven, the eldest son and heir, was married and the happy father of a healthy, happy baby girl. Not to mention, a very promising young scholar. His younger brother Jeremy was not yet married and seemed at times a bit resentful of being 'the spare', but showed courage and determination, and was making a career for himself in the army.

But suddenly, everything started to go wrong.
Then Traven's young wife and child were killed by muggers while they were out on the town to buy some new silks.
Traven retreated into the family house and never ventured outside. What few callers were allowed to see him reported that he was a broken shell of a man, aged beyond his years.
In contrast, Jeremy's star seemed to be on the rise; he left the army and entered the social whirl that was the Dulapont family's birthright. Alas, his education so far had not prepared him adequately for this, and he caused several faux pas, which cost his house considerable embarrassments. In the end, Mme. Marite forbade her youngest child from attending the many parties and gatherings of the social season without her there to coach him - another blow to the House's good name.

The family's cash flow has slowed down to a trickle, as old business interests have withdrawn their custom from what they believe to be a failing family.
Someone or something ravaged the Dulapont family tomb, four years after the death of Traven's wife and child, and no trace was ever found of the perpetrator.
And now, the hauntings.

You, whoever and wherever you are, have heard of the hauntings. How could you not have heard? Mme. Marite has finally broken down and called for help to protect her house. The news has travelled from mouth to mouth, from wall to wall as notices have been spread to the houses where adventurous souls gather to exchange news and seek their next grand quest.

'Every Night, the great and ancient House of Dulapont hears the footsteps of the Dead.
Every Night, the wounded and bleeding House of Dulapont hears the voices of the Dead.
Every Night, the House of Dulapont shifts and shudders in the grip of the Dead.
Who will reach out their Hand?
Who will take the Hand of the House?
Who will soothe its Fears and lead it out of the Night?
If none do, the House shall heed.
The House shall bleed.
The House shall fall.
And the Dead shall rise.'

=======================================================================

Hello to everyone who started reading this post and has made it this far. Are you hooked yet? ;)
I am not the greatest of DMs, and I warn you the pace of this campaign is more than likely to be slow, and I am capable of many mistakes. Please be ready to work with me if this happens... ^^;

The system is Pathfinder.

The books open for character creation are:
* Core rulebook
* Advanced player guide
* Magic of the Inner Sea
* Dragon Empires Gazetteer
* Ultimate Magic
* Ultimate Combat
* Advanced Race Guide

We are starting with 1st-level characters.
I would like to have a party of five to six people, and recruitment ends next Wednesday.
20-point buy character creation.
Two traits, which must be drawn from the Advanced Player Guide.
Maximum starting gold; buy anything you want, so long as you can afford it.
I enjoy a good, well-developed character background. Please give me some story (two to three paragraphs) to go with your submission.
Have some good reason to come to the Dulaponts' rescue. I will accept one distant Dulapont cousin, coming to his family's aid, but no more. ;)
Levelling will be done at my discretion, rather than by constant tallying of xp.

Clearvale-by-the-Lake is a city of my own design. Think of a sprawling, London-like metropolis, as it was during the 19th century - if the many creatures of fantasy roleplaying had been there. The city is misnamed; it is a place of creeping fog and blackest smog, when the factories belch out their smokes at the same time that the Lake disgorges its regular mists. When there's no fog, there is rain, but the city still thrives because it is a centre of industry and craftsmanship, and it ships its products out via the Lake to the other city-states that surround it.

With all of that said... any questions? And more importantly: is anyone interested enough to take up the cause of the Dulapont family?

I was just looking through my bookcases recently, and found the Riddle-Master of Hed books by Patricia McKillip. A brilliant read. ^^

And then I got to thinking: did anyone ever make an rpg based on this setting?

From time to time, I enjoy crafting the odd NPC. I thought I'd share some of them with you all; you might be able to use them in a running campaign.

Should you decide to use them, I ask one thing: let me know how they worked out. And if anyone is planning to use them for anything official, I ask something else: let me know about it and we can talk.

From time to time, I enjoy crafting the odd NPC. I thought I'd share some of them with you all; you might be able to use them in a running campaign.

Should you decide to use them, I ask one thing: let me know how they worked out. And if anyone is planning to use them for anything official, I ask something else: let me know about it and we can talk.

After someone in our Carrion Crown game made a joke about a 'Triple Goddess of Moon and Vengeance', I felt inspired. I did a bit of looking, and I don't think Golarion has its own moon deity, unless you count Groetius. So, presenting for your review:

Mirarae
Duskflower
Hyacinth Candle
Lady of the Three Balances
Moon Witch
Night Elf
Night-Eye
Ocean Bridle
Queen of the Night Sky

CN/LN/N goddess

The changeable Mirarae is a goddess whose worship is in serious decline. In the days of Ancient Osirion, she was hailed as the sister of Sarenrae, the queen of the night sky. She was a patron of sailors due to the moon's influence on the tide; she was beloved of Witches, who so often held their coven meetings at night and bathed in her magical light; but she was also a strong champion of balance, which often took the form of redress and retribution. Any creatures that dwelled mostly in the hours of the night, be they good or evil, were favoured by her.

The increasing popularity of Calistria and her philosophy of vengeance gradually eclipsed Mirarae. With the fall of Ancient Osirion most of her ancient rites and legends are forgotten. Those who worship the divine in the changeing faces of the moon often do not even know that it has a name, or what her ancient rites are. What few myths still circulate describe the Ancient Osiriani moon goddess as a demonic patron of were-beasts and things that stalk in the darkness when the moon is hidden from sight. A few scholars know more of the truth, but even they fear Mirarae for her ability to change. Some Dusk Elf tribes remain loyal to the goddess who favoured them in the days gone by. It is believed that Calistria condoned the slaughter of so many Dusk Elves by their Light Elf cousins. Witches also continue to favour her, with many seeing her as the Moon Patron they draw on, but their faith in the goddess damns her in the eyes of those who see all Witches as creatures of evil.

Doctrine:
Mirarae teaches the importance of balance. The moon is the balance to the sun in that it brings light to the night sky. Its phases allow light and dark to shift places in a steady rhythm, allowing for balance between the two of them. Likewise, mortals should seek balance in their lives for all things. The way she advises creatures to achieve that balance changes with the phases of the moon, however. However she changes, she always claims to be unconcerned with good and evil; she bestows her blessings equally on all creatures, and it is up to mortals to use them how they see fit.

Phases
During the new moon, Mirarae is Chaotic Neutral. The sickle moon is seen as Mirarae's slit eye, looking down on a world wrapped in darkness. During this time, Mirarae advises mortals to restore imbalance in the dark. A knife to the back balances injustice; a quick leap and snap of jaws soon balances hunger; a nimble invasion of another's home balances poverty.
When she manifests, Mirarae appears as a vampiric tiefling woman wrapped in a shroud of star-studded darkness, her face pale as the moon. Her eyes and hair are as black as the great batwings that carry her through the sky. Her horns are like the horns of the sickle moon.
The CN phase of Mirarae has the following Domains:
Domains: Air, Darkness, Trickery, Water
Subdomains: Cloud, Deception, Night, Oceans, Thievery

When the moon is half full, Mirarae is fully Neutral. She grants equal opportunity to light and dark, good and evil, chaos and law, and favours none. She advises mortals to adjust imbalances in their lives with detachment and control, and recommends magic as the ideal tool. Magic itself is balanced, arcane to divine, and balances mundane life by its very nature. When not dealing with imbalance, the goddess recommends caution and wisdom. Let the light expose danger, let darkness hide you from it.
When she manifests during this phase, Mirarae takes on the form of a handsome human woman with pale skin and platinum blonde hair. Her face is covered by a half mask of ebony, her body half exposed, the covered half draped with a robe of black velvet.
The N phase of Mirarae has the following Domains:
Domains: Air, Darkness, Magic, Water
Subdomains: Arcane, Cloud, Divine, Night, Oceans

When the moon is full, Mirarae is Lawful Neutral. She advocates the redress of imbalance in greater openness. When one creature leaps out from the shadows to face another in the full light, Mirarae applauds. When blades clash, her light shines upon the steel. When fists find flesh and bone, it sparkles in the flying blood. It equally illuminates the fur of hunting werebeasts and charging champions. If there is no wrong to redress, she encourages her followers to enjoy the light in which she bathes them by dance and song, combined with strong drink and rich food.
When she manifests, she assumes the form of a voluptuous Dusk Elf, her dark body exposed for all to see, her eyes and hair shining with all the radiance and colour of the full moon. She is frequently seen riding on the back of a dire Worg or a were-beast of some sort across the night sky. In this phase, she is the mover of the oceans, both feared and beloved of sailors and all those who travel at night, hoping that her light will bless their path. Sadly, were-creatures also howl to her in this phase, as do those unfortunates who suffer from 'lunacy', the madness brought about by the sight of the full moon.
The Lawful Neutral phase has the following Domains:
Domains: Air, Darkness, Madness, Water
Subdomains: Cloud, Insanity, Night, Nightmare, Oceans

Regardless of her phase, Mirarae's favoured weapon is the Khopesh.

Those who worship her and draw spells from her must choose one of her Phases with which they are compatible to focus on; the Phase chosen determines the Domains which a Cleric can access, and its philosophy should influence her worshipper's actions, if only a little.

Relations:
Mirarae maintains friendly contact with Sarenrae, despite their different philosophies and the terrible fate that connects them. The Dawnflower and the Duskflower know that they are balanced, the twin rulers of the skies. As Sarenrae is resigned to the fact that Mirarae eclipses her from time to time, Mirarae is resigned to the fact that one day in the distant future, Sarenrae will be her executioner.
This bond of prophesied death is a secret of Mirarae's faith, carefully preserved only by the high priests and kept from most worshippers, not to mention unbelievers. Neither goddess knows why Sarenrae would ever need to strike Mirarae down, but both know it is inevitable.

Mirarae and Pharasma are on good terms with one another, though they rarely have time to socialize. Cynics may claim that Mirarae is preparing for her inevitable death and hopes to achieve a peaceful afterlife by getting in good with Pharasma, but her clergy claims that she respects the goddess of death because death is the balance to life.

Mirarae's relationship with Groetius, however, is chilly and distant. The two are not openly hostile to one another, but Mirarae resents Groetius' lunar form. Also, the prophecy of her death states that the liberation of Groetius to end Golarion will be the sign that signals her own execution at the hands of Sarenrae. While Mirarae accepts her fate, she is not eager for it to come to pass, and so she prefers for Groetius to stay where he is.

As a patron of Witches and magic in general in her True Neutral phase, Mirarae has a good rapport with Nethys, and there are rumours that the two have been lovers in the past. Any connection they might have is lost the instant Mirarae changes phase, however, which is probably for the best; in his madness, Nethys might ruin what they share if they stayed together for too long.

There is a terrible hatred between Mirarae and Calistria. The Duskflower carries a grudge over the slaying of her Dusk Elf followers, and Calistria is still bitter over the fact that any Elves were lured away from her at all. Neither goddess has launched an open attack yet, but each spins plots of revenge in the shadows, and the clergy of either goddess is rarely safe when that of the other is nearby.

Mirarae despises Zon-Kuthon, who unbalances the darkness completely, and is generally friendly to anyone who wishes to upset his plans.

Like all the other gods of Golarion, she is a staunch enemy of Rovagug, the Rough Beast. She likewise despises fiends of all kinds.

Hello, hello. ^^

As the subject title says, I am eager to play Pathfinder now that the PHB and the Beastiary are out. If there's someone who wants to start a PbP campaign here or is already running one but needs an extra character, please let me know. I'm curious about almost all the character classes, so I shouldn't have any trouble with filling an existing slot.

Hello, hello. I'm looking for a Pathfinder rules-based pbp campaign. If you're running one or thinking of running one and have vacancies, please let me know. Basically, I'm eager to try any of the classes, but most interested in arcane spellcasters; Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard ...