My understanding of it based on past posts is that the room is hallowed 'enough' to create holy water each day, but not hallowed 'enough' to allow for nightmare-free rest that is needed to recover spells.
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For myself, some of my slow is just..... RL is being hard right now. Health issues, both physical and mental, are making me slow, but I will try and do a better job of keeping up. Some of it is a little bit like Almonihah is saying-- my character is not really intended to be a "face" or a talker, but rather, a curious intellectual who is more likely to observe silently and gather their thoughts. But there's only so many posts you can write of your character doing that and it doesn't help the game move forward, so I've been trying to make them talk a little more than would probably feel entirely natural, while still keeping true to how I envision the character.
Strike all the above as I see it is now in Campaign Info. Appreciated! (though if you still wanted to throw the link in your GM stat profile I wouldn't complain! Just one less click for a player) I do know that a lot of my games have active Discord channels for OOC communication which can help with play issues. Not saying we have to if anyone would prefer not to do that, just saying I've observed that it seems to lead to more party coherency and quicker vibe checks. Anyway, going to go catch up right now.
Goin' to catch up now, sorry, had a busy few days.
Okay I think I fixed it -- or rather -- I think I was just good enough of a student in Dien's excellent lesson to have gotten it right. Working now for me :) :)
GM, we still have to individually request access to see the slides. If you want to change that so all you have to do is give us the link, here's what you need to do: 1) From within the slides, go to Share in the upper right 2) In the bottom half of the box that appears, there is an option that says "General Access", and then lets you select between "Restricted" (what it's currently set to) and "Anyone with the link." You probably want it to be "Anyone with the link" for the purposes of PBP. 3) When you change it to "Anyone with the link", you will also get the option for 'Viewer' (Default), Commenter, or Editor. If it's viewer, that means that people with the link (your players) can only SEE the document, not change anything. If you want people to be able to edit it (for instance, to move tokens around), then that needs to be set to Editor. Hope that helps.
this shameless flattery is not gonna get you extra goodies in Salt Spire
Thanks, and PM incoming!
Innnnnteresting. Interesting. I'm gonna have to poke at some concepts. ... ..... .......okay, I've poked. A name is yet to be determined (not like my character knows what it is yet anyway!), but the character would eventually learn those scars on their forehead denote a touch of Hell in the ancestry; that their insatiable curiosity about-- well, everything-- seems to have taught them a few neat tricks; and that those chemical burns on their fingers come from seeming practice at handling caustic substances. They have a sense for mystery... and the biggest one of all right now is who the hell they are. They are the character who just has to know what's behind that door/in that box/in the obviously cursed book/right behind them. Even when it's better not to look. Even when all wisdom would say walk away. Party role would be skill monkeying and potential scouting as well as combat support/boosts. As for me as a player: Veteran PBPer as both GM and player (and I'll vouch for Dreadful as a player in one of my games), with plenty of game history to check out if you want. I'm pretty regular about posting. I did start (as a player) a Strange Aeons game here on the boards a while back, and another of Carrion Crown, but neither got very far along. I honestly remember very little of either of them, and what I do remember was mostly interparty dynamic stuff rather than the plots or the details.
In case anyone missed it, the boards will be down starting tomorrow for a few days.
woh-woh-woh:
Well how about that.
Safe travels!
We are coming up on seven weeks of the game and I hope that nobody is too bored that we have yet to roll a single initiative checkBored is certainly not on the list of words that come to mind, when I think of this game. There are others, a sampling of which I offer here: impressive, gripping, depth. I get a sense of history, at times, which glitters like the towers of a remote city, seen through a sunlit mist. As poetic as Em herself! Shucks.
I cannot speak for the GM of course but as far as I'm concerned, the more the merrier up to legal table size.
Sounds good!
Oh, I've always wanted to play this one! I've got multiple characters in range- level 5 archery focused medium, level 5 alchemist, level 6 original-flavor summoner, grandfathered in, and a level 6 dwarf barbarian who would be my preferred choice for the RP chances of the setting. For GM: I own the adventure but haven't read it; I actually got to design one of the items that's in it so that is part of why I wanna play it :D
I'll throw my hat in the realm, as I just had an FR game recently that unfortunately came to an end. Let me think what to propose, then I'll have something for ya to consider.
For real, though, how often do you just look up? I'm sitting in a cafe right now and I was finishing a bottle of water so my eyes drifted to the ceiling and there's all this ornamental glass up there I would have totally missed. I have to remind myself to stop and look at the sky more often. I have friends who birdwatch and I'd say they spend more time looking at the sky than at the street! Mileage varies per person, I imagine. As an artist, or at least someone with pretensions of artistry, I definitely look at clouds a lot, trying to figure out how to capture that play of light and shadow.
Happy level up
More abuse, don't mind me:
Don't mind me, just abusing this board: 17, 15, 16, 16, 15, 12
i'll do it outside of the workplace
I'll just punch you ever so often as a reminder
Eyyy! Thanks, GM. Good luck to everyone else finding homes for your great characters!
Full app, as promised. Excerpts from a life lived-- really long background-type stuff, in story format:
"When's Papa coming home?" The small girl's piping voice drew the gaze of Marta Draznoi from her work of hulling nuts. She took in her daughter with an assessing glance: barely out of her toddling years, but there was the promise of future height to her slim little arms and legs already. A clear legacy from her father, for Marta herself was barely above five feet tall and was usually described as 'comfortably round.' Marta could see other signs of Mila's absent father: the large grey eyes with a hint of a slant, framed by dark lashes, an inquisitive snub nose, lightly pointed ears... and a certain restlesness. Alright, perhaps the last was just every four-year-old. "Well, little deer, he is out and about and walking the wide world, and who can be saying when the wind will bring him back? Come now, if you can ask me questions you can hull nuts at the same time. Sit." The girl scrunched up her nose but dutifully perched on a stool near her mother. Marta demonstrated how to pick the kernels of nut-meat out of the cracked shells- the child wouldn't be strong enough to crack the nuts, but her small fingers would be well-suited to wiggling out the good bits. For a bit, the task took Mila's concentration, her small face drawn with effort, but it only bought Marta a reprieve. "Why doesn't he stay here with us?" Mila sighed to herself, and, despite knowing better, she dared a glance out the kitchen's window-hole, gazing down the road to see if perhaps a tall, lanky traveler with hair like a raven's glossy wing might be approaching. "It's his nature, fawnling. Your Papa is like a bird, or a breeze: he comes, and then he goes. He comes when he's needed, but then they need him in other places, too." Mila was quiet a bit. Then, "Is Papa a faery?" "What? What a-- no, Mila, where did you hear that?" "Zarna. She said... she said he came from the forest and he in... inchatted you with faery magic, and he spelled you good, and then Zarna's mama said that it was a shame and you a priestess, too, and--" "Did she now," Marta said brusquely. She resolved to have a little talk with Zarna's mama. "Well, some people talk too much and work too little. No, dove, your Papa is not a faery. He is an elf." The big gray eyes peered up at her solemnly. "What's a nelf?" "Elf, dove, elf. He... they are... He is... they come from a different country," Marta said after a bit of groping. Of course Mila was going to ask all of this sooner or later. She'd just hoped it would be later. "They are a different people. They have different customs. Our way is to stay in one place and build good strong homes, and work the earth and take care of our animals and each other. And your papa, his way is... is..." To leave, she thought with bitterness despite herself, then immediately regretted it. As she'd just said to the girl: it was his nature. You could as soon teach a fish to plow as get Ardathien to... stay. "His way is to travel," she said eventually. "Like the caravans that come through, you remember? With the ladies with all the pretty scarves, and the men who did the tricks with the knives?" An eager nod. Too eager for Marta's liking. It was too easy to imagine the girl taking off after those caravans, disappearing down the road or down the river, and... no. No thinking about that. The child was only curious, like any child would be. "But your father is a good man, even if he is different," she said before Mila could say more absurd things. "I'm sure that Zarna didn't tell you that when he came to town, it was to protect us from werewolves? No? I didn't think so. Well, if you get the meat out from twenty of those nuts, then I'll tell you the story. In fact, I shall tell it to you now-- but if you start lagging with the nuts, then I'll stop and only resume after dinner, yes? Very well, then. This was about five years ago, and we had lost four sheep in a month's time...."
"Papa!" The tall man coming down the path to the cottage looked precisely as he had the last time she had seen him: terribly handsome, forever about twenty-two. Marta reminded herself it hadn't been that long, really, as she watched her daughter tear forward with delight. Ardath laughed to see her, and picked her up and spun in a circle with his little girl. "Look at you! You've grown at least an inch!" "TWO, Papa! And I'm faster than all the other girls AND the boys at running, and last week I caught a frog in Farmer Vell's pond, and Papa--" The girl's excited chatter washed over Marta like the babbling of a brook. It took Ardath several minutes to be able to stay her tales long enough to come and greet her-- more restrained, a light kiss to her cheek and then assessing her in his distant way. He had Mila in one arm, holding her up, and the girl looked to be in seventh heaven. "Marta. My love. You look well." I look older, she thought, but didn't say. And she also didn't say, And how many other women have you called 'my love' since you left, last spring? Marta only smiled. "Come in. There's soup, and Mila is eager to hear where you've been and what you've seen."
"Papa brought me a bow of my own from Nirmathas," Mila said, her eyes shining, her fingers gripping the item in question like it were gold. Marta turned from washing the dishes to take in the sight, Ardath standing behind their daughter looking pleased with himself. "Did he now! Perhaps he ought have asked me first," she said. He smiled his old, easy, charming smile. "Come, Marta! Isn't that Deadeye's weapon? I'd have thought you'd approve. You have one yourself, you know." "It's more her age, Ar." "Enh. She's old enough to learn. Aren't you, Milly?" he said, and ruffled the girl's dark hair with one long-fingered hand. "Yes, mama, I am, I promise I am, I can, can't I? Can't I?" Marta sighed. Some battles were lost before you even started. "You can-- but after we get these dishes done. Ardath, you can dry just as well as she can, now get a towel." "Ma'am, yes, ma'am!"
"Well now, you're shaping to be a fine shot! A good eye. Can you hit that knot in the tree over there, do you think?" "Yes, I think so-- in the pine?" "Yes, the pine. We call that tree virsail, by the by. Naim gwyd virsail-y. Try it." "Nay... naim... gwid... versily?" "Ah, close enough. But keep practicing. Your archery, and your Elven." "I will. I will. If I get good enough--" "Yes, Milly?" "--Papa, if I get good enough, can I travel with you? Can we go to Kyonin? You've told me so many stories, I want to see it!" Ardathien... was silent. Marta watched, from her spot seated in the shade, looking over Farmer Vell's goat for signs of hoof rot. Yes, would you take her to Kyonin, Ar? You told me they don't care for half-breeds, there. Here, she has a home. Don't you go taking that from her with wild flights of fancy. As if he heard her words, the elf looked up, across the yard, and their eyes met. He looked away first. "We'll see, Milly. Now try for the pine!" "The versily!"
"--can't think what possessed you, you little-- why, I ought to tan every inch of your hide, head to toe! Of all the stupid, hare-brained--" Marta's voice was shrill and strident even to her own ears, sharpened by fear. She took deep breaths as she half-dragged her daughter home with one hand around the girl's wrist, and the other clamped tight around the carved wooden stag that hung from her neck. The girl was pale as a ghost and hadn't said a word. It took hot cocoa (with a splash of something stronger) and a blanket and an hour of chafing Mila's limbs and muttering prayers to Erastil before Mila would meet her eyes. "'m sorry." "Sorry! You will be. Now what in the name of all the gods were you doing up at that old cottage, alone, at night? You children aren't to go there! Gods, Milovica, we adults don't go there! For a reason! Now let me see where that thing touched you, damnit." Mila slowly pulled the blanket down and showed her upper arm, where what looked like a white handprint, as of flour, was imprinted on her skin. It made Marta take a deep breath. If she'd been five minutes later... The skin where the creature had gripped Mila looked sickly pale, like a leper's. Marta kept the fear from her face as she started to investigate the strange scar, or injury, or whatever one wanted to call it. "I'm still waiting to hear why, girl." Mila stared blankly at the fire. "Ivgeny dared me." "Ivgeny?!" "Farmer Vell's son." "I know who Ivgeny is, Mila! Dammit, why would you listen to that boy, he's got straw for brains and-- Mila, I thought you had more sense than this." The girl looked down the floor. "Yes, mama. Only..." "Only what?" "I just-- thought-- I mean... you and Papa, you killed a monster together, and I thought maybe..." "You thought you'd steal my bow and go play hero. That's what you thought. If we can call that thinking." "I'm-- I'm a good shot, Mama! I really am! And I'll -- I will get your bow back, I promise--" "What you'll do is make me a new one. Tomorrow, I'm taking you down to Bowyer's, and you're going to prentice with him for any work he wants done for six hours a day, and then you are going to come and do the rest of your chores, and you'll do this til I've decided you've learned your lesson, girl. You nearly died tonight. Thank the Elk Father you did not. I mean that, thank him before you sleep tonight, because if not for the blessings he grants me, you'd be a corpse on that hill right now, girl." For a moment, Mila's eyes flashed at the chastisement... and then the fire faded. Mila's cheeks were red as she looked away, her shoulders slumped. "Yes, mama."
Ardath's smooth face was momentarily given the illusion of age by the furrow of his brow as he gazed down at the cot where their daughter lay, unmoving, unseeing, unresponsive. "What happened?" Marta rubbed a weary hand over her face. "Stupidity. Honor. Bravado. Guilt. I don't know." He only cocked a dark brow at her. Marta sighed. "A month back she went up to that abandoned shack on the mountainside, alone. On a stupid dare. Took my best bow, too. I went after her and interrupted some dead thing trying to haul her inside. I managed to turn it, get the cursed thing to let her go, and we fled down the hill. I thought it was a lesson learned-- cheaply, too, if all it cost was my bow. "But her fool friend-- well, it seems he felt guilty. So he decided he'd go after the bow, to make things up between them. Suppose he thought it was safe, by daylight. And Mila... learned about it, and went after him." Marta rubbed her hands against each other, chafing her knuckles. Her joints were aching. That happened now, on cold nights. The fire could use another log, she thought. She added more wood and stared into the heart of the flames. "I didn't get there in time to save the boy." The words were blunt, dropped like heavy rocks into a stream. "We got away. That was about it. And she's been like that ever since. I reckon it did something to her mind." Ardath's frown was unchanged. He finally looked from his daughter up to Marta. "Why didn't you go back at some point and clear the thing out? Before this latest bit?" Marta exhaled. She let her head fall down between her shoulders. "Ar. Ardath. I'm not... I can't... I'm not you, for one thing. The blessings Erastil gives me are humble things. Prayers for the crops, for the livestock, a bit of healing. Quite truthfully, that thing up there outmatches me." "You could have sent for me." "Could I? Really? Where should I have sent that letter, Ardathien? Nirmathas, where you enjoy taking potshots at Molthuni soldiers and playing hide and seek in the woods with your friends there? Kyonin, where you visit long enough to get bored and then leave your stuffy kin behind? The waters of Lake Encarthan, on whatever ship you're currently serving as a guard? The River Kingdoms, where I'm not precisely sure if you're working as a guard or the sort of bandit the guards are hired against? Where exactly should I have known that--" "Alright, you've made your point!" the elf exclaimed, pushing off from the wall and stalking to his daughter's bedside. He gazed down at Milovica a tense moment, then said, "...I'm sorry I wasn't here." Marta dug her fingers against her eyesockets, trying to push away her exhaustion. "So am I. Now what do we do for her?" Ardath sunk his chin to his chest in thought. "I know a man. An academic, a professor. He has made an intensive study of the undead, and the ways they can assault the soul. I'll write to him. He might know something. And..." "And?" "And I'm also going to go kill that thing on the mountainside. So that the professor can examine its corpse and better know what did this to our girl."
Dear Professor Lorrimor,
"I'm getting too damn old for this," Marta wheezed as mother and daughter crested a hill together. "You say that every time," Mila responded, scanning the forest below with one hand shading her eyes from the pale wintry sunlight. It might have been pale, but at least it was sun: rare enough, in Ustalav. I mean it, though, Marta thought internally. I'm getting older, dove. You'll be slow to age. Not as slow as your father, who still looks like a youth, but... slower. As if drawn by the forceof her thoughts, Mila glanced from the woods ahead to her mother, and then frowned just a bit. "....you are getting some grey hairs," she admitted. "Yes, you put them there," Marta retorted. "Right, let's find your damn zombie wolf and put it down before I develop arthritis on the spot." Mila smiled. "Yes, Mama." Personality:
Milovica, or Mila to her friends, would likely describe herself as 'a simple woman, salt of the earth.' She is usually cheerful, enjoys simple pleasures like a good mug of hard cider or a bit of dice, and believes in ideals like honesty and loyalty. She would say that she doesn't have too much book learning, but she does have 'sense.' (It sounds like something her mother would say.) She would also probably say she 'calls a spade a spade' and other similarly earthy metaphors. She believes in hard work, and relaxing once you've earned it, and may feel that scrubbing floors builds character (if it doesn't, then she scrubbed a lot of floors for nothing, dammit).
There is some trauma lurking behind the amiable exterior, of course. As an adolescent, she witnessed the death of a friend and still partially blames herself, though on her better days she can usually admit it wasn't her fault. She also has some potential abandonment issues due to her father's intermittent presence in her childhood, and a growing awareness that she is just coming to terms with that her mother is getting old(er)... and that in fact everyone she's known from childhood on is getting older at the same rate. And she's not. It's one thing to intellectually know it and another to be coming to terms with it. The only person she's not likely to outlive is her father-- but their relationship is complicated to say the least. Mila is an idealist of sorts, and always ready to pitch in when it seems someone else in her community needs help. Barn raisings? Corralling runaway sheep? Helping dig up an old vegetable garden? Just call Mila! Sometimes an old scar on her arm acts up, especially in cold weather. Role in party:
As a full-progression caster class Mila will of course get access to all the typical cleric spells and can swap between them daily as needed to respond to changing situations. While I wouldn't say she is super-optimized for healing, she does get 8 channels a day and of course the cure spells. Meanwhile she also helps fill a ranged-options need, and has a decent bit of utility skills, and a nice high perception to notice all the spookies. While her AC is currently terrible, it will scale reasonably nicely as she levels up, and/or if we get a wand of a mage armor, to the point that she might eventually be feasible as a tankish character. Full stat block: Milovica Draznoi
Female half-elf cleric (blossoming light) of Erastil 4/monk (zen archer) 4/gestalt 4 (Pathfinder RPG Advanced Player's Guide 115, Pathfinder RPG Adventurer's Guide 112) LG Medium humanoid (elf, human) Init +1; Senses low-light vision; Perception +16 -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 16, touch 16, flat-footed 15 (+1 Dex, +1 monk, +4 Wis) hp 40 (4d8+8) Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +8; +2 vs. enchantments, +1 vs. ability damage, +1 vs. ability drain, +1 vs. energy drain, +1 vs. negative energy Immune sleep -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 40 ft. Melee dagger +4 (1d4+2/19-20) or . . unarmed strike +4 (1d8+2) Ranged or . . mwk composite longbow flurry of blows +7/+7 (1d8+2/×3) or . . mwk composite longbow +9 (1d8+2/×3) Special Attacks channel positive energy 8/day (DC 13, 2d6), flurry of blows, perfect strike 1/day, zen archery Domain Spell-Like Abilities (CL 4th; concentration +8) . . 7/day—calming touch (1d6+4) Cleric (Blossoming Light) Spells Prepared (CL 4th; concentration +8) . . 2nd—align weapon, calm spirit[OA] (DC 16), delay poison . . 1st—abundant ammunition[UC], liberating command[UC], magic weapon, protection from evil . . 0 (at will)—detect magic, light, purify food and drink (DC 14), stabilize . . Domains Community, Valor inquisition[UM] -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 14, Dex 13, Con 13, Int 12, Wis 19, Cha 12 Base Atk +3; CMB +5 (+7 grapple); CMD 21 (23 vs. grapple) Feats Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Creature Focus, Deadly Aim, Focused Undead Expertise, Perfect Strike[APG], Point Blank Master[APG], Power Attack, Precise Shot, Skill Focus (Perception), Unarmed Combatant Traits devotee of the green, nirmathi militia, subject of study, overprotective (drawback) Skills Acrobatics +1, Appraise +5, Bluff +1, Climb +6, Craft (bows), Diplomacy +1 (+3 vs. good creatures, +3 to convince evil creatures to act against its nature), Disguise +1, Escape Artist +1, Fly +1, Handle Animal +3, Heal +8, Intimidate +1, Knowledge (nature) +9, Knowledge (planes) +5, Knowledge (religion) +8 (+10 to identify undead and their special abilities), Perception +16, Profession (cook) +8, Profession (trapper) +10, Ride +5, Sense Motive +8, Spellcraft +5, Stealth +5, Survival +12, Swim +6; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception Languages Common, Elven, Varisian SQ elf blood, fast movement, finesse weapon attack attribute, ki archery, ki pool (6 points, magic), luminous font, overprotective, slow fall 20 ft., touch of resolve Combat Gear cold iron arrows (50), potion of darkvision, potion of hide from undead, potion of mage armor (2), dye arrow (2), holy water, raining arrow (2), weapon blanch (ghost salt); Other Gear arrows (40), blunt arrows[APG] (20), dagger, mwk composite longbow (+2 Str), caltrop bead, cracked amethyst pyramid ioun stone, applejack (per mug)[UE], bear trap[APG], bedroll, blanket[APG], fishhook, garlic, hip flask[UE], holy text (Erastil)[UE], maple syrup (per jar)[UE], masterwork backpack[APG], masterwork bowyer tools, mess kit[UE], sewing needle, signal whistle, silk rope (50 ft.), silver holy symbol of Erastil, soap, tea (per cup)[UE], teapot[UE], twine (50')[APG], 1,290 gp, 4 sp, 8 cp -------------------- Special Abilities -------------------- Cleric (Blossoming Light) Domain (Community) Granted Powers: Your touch can heal wounds, and your presence instills unity and strengthens emotional bonds: Calming Touch (1d6+4 nonlethal damage, 7/day) (Sp) Heal 1d6+4 nonlethal damage and cure conditions by touch.
Throwing my hat in the ring... blame Rajuna. I'd be bringing a half-elf Cleric/XXX, the XXX being some sort of ranged, archery focused class though I'm pondering a few mechanical choices for that. (Archer Fighter, Zen Archer, archery-style ranger) Milovica is probably a cleric of Erastil, though Ketephys and Skode are also options depending on which slightly-tweaked backstory I run with. Her elven father was a wanderer out of Kyonin who made it across Lake Encarthan and met a nice human lady whilst saving her village/tribe/clan from an undead menace. In the course of things, nine months later... Her father was a sporadic presence in her childhood, disappearing for a year or two at a time and then returning to stay a few months and coach her in archery. Her mother, however, was a rock-solid force in her life who impressed on her the necessity of community and home, and taught her about the gods. A nasty run in with something undead in her teen years brought her to Lorrimor's attention (for Studied Subject). She learned how to fight them, and took to defending her village and local region from the things that go bump in the night, whilst occasionally corresponding with Lorrimor. However, when the message arrived that he had passed, Milovica was out in the woods trailing a band of skeletons, and got it late-- very late. Between one thing and another, she is weeks late in arriving to Ravengro for the professor's funeral, but she did still want to come to pay her respects-- the idea that she might have inherited something is not a major incentive for her. (Yes, another 'late to the funeral' sort. Look, letters take a long time to get anywhere in Golarion.) Whatever exact class combination I use, the emphasis would be on some sort of character who is at home in the woods, a skilled archer who preferentially focuses on undead, and who worships one of the good-aligned gods of the hunt and feels beholden to kick evil in the teeth. I can work on a full statblock tomorrow for a finalized application.
Emma strikes and finally has the satisfaction of connecting! Her blade flares with a sudden bright glow when it contacts Wormgnash's flesh, and the man hisses in pain, as if that had hurt just a little bit more even. He stops laughing, gazing at Emma with slitted eyes; she steps backward with her guard raised, and gives Roger an excellent clear shot to bring a powerful blow raining down! The strike rocks him back on his feet, and when Roger brings the glaive back, purplish ichor weeps from the deep slash... No banter, now. Wormgnash's lips curl back from his teeth in a snarl...
Hey, we definitely still want you! Glad you're alive and making your way back upstream. We can recap for you in Discord as needed.
Is there any reason this wouldn't yet be showing in my digital content as a PFS VO? I'm definitely logged in and can access all the other org play scenarios I should be able to through Digital Content, but this one's not there yet. Is this a me issue or has it perhaps not been added yet for VOs?We haven't run the asset grant yet today, that'd be why. If you're on the Venture Officer Discord server, I usually post there when we're starting the grant (usually afternoons Pacific time on release day). Thanks, Alex. I am on the server but aside from Announcements don't tend to watch things too closely, and I'd just never run into this before, I guess just due to luck. Now I know, thanks.
Is there any reason this wouldn't yet be showing in my digital content as a PFS VO? I'm definitely logged in and can access all the other org play scenarios I should be able to through Digital Content, but this one's not there yet. Is this a me issue or has it perhaps not been added yet for VOs?
Yeah, add me to the busy-- I've just started a master's program and am regretting my life choices there but I will absolutely post tomorrow. Would do it now but falling asleep at the keys.
Damn, life is hitting you like a ton of bricks. Hope things get better.
Oh no! :( I second the wishes for a mild case and quick recovery. Mine was no worse than cold, fortunately, and that was before vax even, so fingers crossed for you.
I was seeing that too at first, but not now. But several of us are there and posting. Clebsch, you might have to do whatever you did with markofbane? It seems like some sort of permissions issue. I saw Madame Knight join on the discord, so I could see you, but you can't see us.
You'll need to create a channel, it looks like. From your side of the things as the owner of the server, you should see a plus sign somewhere on the left side bar. I doubt we need more than one channel, since it's just for OOC discussion/communications. I don't know why you wouldn't be finding people via their handles; I'll see if it'll let me invite people to the server. (eta: it will not, since I probably don't have that level of permissions on the server.) ETA2: I thought I remembered typing a 'yo' in a channel last night, but now I can't see it. Is it possible you altered who can access that channel? ETA3: I'm on Discord a great deal so feel free to PM me on there for real time questions if you want. I just sent you a friend request.
Good luck out there.
Chronicles look fine for me, thanks again GM.
(Any OOC chatter needed that can't happen on the Discord)
I've had a busy couple days and will try and post later today, sorry to be quiet. Will try and address any concerns I may have at that point. I still intend to carry on with the game, though.
I know Invandi is being slammed at work but I'll give him a nudge.
I've been mainlining a computer game called Darkest Dungeon, myself. Addictive small-team turn-based tactical combat.... with a strong chance of driving your PCs insane. ;)
Sorry I haven't weighed in ICly on the gear, etc-- I'd like a longsword if possible, and the scale mail if nobody else wants it, but I'll try and get a proper IC post up soon. Busy at work.
If it's any consolation, Sirio, your charge would also not have hit ;)
Having surgery tomorrow. Highly unlikely I'll post at all Monday, and after that we'll see.
I think Avelina was clear about saying that this light-rules situation has EXACTLY come up for her before and been discussed at great length with her local PFS, when the designer's ruling was first published.
Oh no! Best of luck.
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