”Maybe we should use a little discretion with the ‘T’ word...” Sylvak mutters to his companions. ”And, maybe we could move to another location to discuss our new friend’s prank? I really doubt either of them wants to explain to the school what we’re all doing up here...”
Week 2 Update
Obviously I would have loved to have posted a bigger loss, but its still progress! The week actually went better than it looks on paper... I may have overindulged last cheat day, and gained 5 pounds. So, clearly I need to exercise a little more restraint today than I did last week, but I kind of lost 9 pounds this week so I'm going to be encouraged by that, lol. Hope you're feeling better Adam!
Week 1 Update
Cheat day is going well- I’m currently finishing some chocolate I got for Christmas :)
I don’t mean this title at all as a dig, I just wanted to distinguish this idea from the really high power games that have threads going. This basic idea is that a (good aligned) god-king has set up shop on Golarion (in northeastern Varisia) and recruited a cadre of ‘knights’ based on gemstone themes... the players would all be playing these ‘knights’ but would be free to interpret the theme. Mechanics-wise we’d probably be looking at something like a 25-30 point buy, somewhere around 9th or 11th level gestalt, with 1-3 mythic tiers. You’d each pick a gem and pitch a character that you think fits that gem. For example... you could pick the sapphire knight and then make a guy who’s sort of themed around water, or the sky, or cold, or a blue dragon, or whatever seems to fit that gem. I would probably be looking at recruiting 3-5 players (only one per gem) for a self contained adventure. If it went well (and I had a good idea for another adventure) I’d probably keep running, possibly with a cast change if there were knights who wanted to bow out, or others that might not have been a good fit off the bat but could be later on... Would anyone be interested in something like that?
Speaking of weird... I can’t stop thinking about potential builds for a jolly young man in red armor and white furs, with a reindeer companion, lol. I feel like maybe some kind of paladin of Erastil/hunter, possibly the guardian path?
When the snake finishes hissing the orc offers, ”Bear says we can watch while you dig into your...unknowns.”
I could benefit from dimension door aswell I believe MJ said we could both learn it?
I’m sorry. I’ve been there too, as you know. Take care of yourself.
hmm.. I wonder if these will breed true... Sylvak smiles and shrugs as Kiango storms off. He reaches down and retreives the discarded cherry explaining, ”I’ll just carry this for him.” Then he plucks the other cherry from the tree and adds, ”and one for me, thanks.”
i made it! they only slept from 2:30 to 6:30 but I managed not to lay waste to them like the angry, vengeful god they deserved.
I'm having a bit of trouble following everything that's going on... any chance we could get a picture of the map that has my pit and the wall of fire drawn in? And, I know it's not practical to try and label every miniature but could we maybe have like a little strip of post it note on each of our allies or something, so we can at least have a sense of where the team is?
”The snake says we are strong and you should find something else to pull on,” Zagathoth helpfully translates.
Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I know it is only a few hours past our last conference, and you have not had much time to rest or attend to personal matters... (here he gives Zagathoth a high-browed glance, as if the Holy Father somehow knew that between the last few hours when he last saw the orc, Zagathoth had spent the entire time "making the sex", or imposing upon poor Boga to restore Molly's lost purity so he can despoil it again...) Zagathoth smiles his big toothy grin when his holy liege acknowledges his success at making more sex. ...In the name of Our Lord, I bid you, the brave and valorous Crusaders of the Catacombs, to take up sword and shield to fight alongside these daring Desert Jackals! Send this vile enemy of God to Hell as you have so many deserving foes in the Catacombs! Free God's children, who might be retrained to fight for God and the Church instead of for the amusement of evil Mohammed worshippers! "Padre Pope..." the orc says with a frown, "I am sorry but I don't have a shield, and I could not swing my sword good if I used one..."
Zagathoth appears confused and looks around to see who's on something they could kill. Shrugging, he announces, "Bear is worried we'll kill the tiles if we don't get off them..."
"Its because they look like the kind with little hunks of chocolate," Sylvak interjects, "you think you're getting a buttery cookie full of chocolate and then instead it's dense, chewy oatmeal and raisins. I like raisins but not when you're expecting chocolate..." "Also, we should wait in the hall--maybe move a little ways towards where Hep went--we only stopped the haunt temporarily and it would be less than ideal to have it become active again while we're all in here..."
"I vondered vhy you vere being so veird..." Emi grumbles, "actuvally, I asked vhy you vere being so veird, and you ignored me... because you could not answer vithout a foice... alright, fine- ve're efen then."
Emi inwardly groans. Straining to try to 'think quietly'--to keep her thoughts private despite having opened her mind to the harpy--she considers their present situation. harpies aren't the friendliest creatures... and they can curse people... its just as likely she's a cause of Iko's sickness as it is that she can help end it... we are going to have to kill that man from yesterday, though... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let it help us with that, and if she turns out to be hurting Iko we could always fight it later... She nods her consent to the plan then shoots Soliana a confused look, "Somevun stole your foice yesterday?!?"
Its not complete, but here's a rough draft of my Int based archer (who will pick up trapfinding at 4th level).
Joe mentioned how easy it would be to get us on to plot hooks if we were all paladins... now I’m thinking maybe we should avoid that- don’t want our GM getting lazy! I’m mostly joking about that. Adam, you can keep working on you Pally/Bard melee and once Ladile figures out what she wants I’ll figure out something to fill the holes.
It takes a minute for Tera, in her condition, to place the sound welling up around her... Sal isn't much faster, but she is first to recognize the noise: a crowd of dwarves laughing! As 'the street' comes into focus (momentarily) it is clear that it was more of an aisle... down the center of the common room... mere feet from where the two had been eating and drinking. The young female dwarf who had helped bring out the food and drink is laughing less than the others as she begins cleaning one of the potted plants by the door. "Alright ya two," the barkeep calls out as he walks up next to the small human women and helps steady them, "I gotta couple bunks in the warehouse far just such an occasion... Its upta ya whether ta use one or two..." At his final comment, another roar of laughter erupts as he leads the two lightweights to their modest accommodations.
Yeah... so, the recruitment thread shows up to anyone looking for games. If you want to keep the party limited to the people already talking you should label this “Closed Recruitment” (like, edit the first post to explain it’s closed- otherwise random people will post here)
well... this is an unforeseen twist... Sylvak raises an eyebrow at the younger Dacilane's unexpected entrance, and can't help but chuckle when Ylva falls into a fit of laughter. When the time for introductions comes, he dryly offers, "I suppose 'S' will suffice... like the letter..."
formal wear... this silk armor is often used in military ceremonies... I must know someone with an old chasuble, I could just wear that over my armor to be sure... Sylvak arrives at the appointed hour looking even more priestly than usual. He glances in mild disbelief at his companions while they follow the eccentric Venture-Captain through the streets. His upper lip curls in distaste at the description of their assignment and his brow furrows as he tries to force a smile and answers, "Yes, of course... a group of inexperienced adventurers babysitting an important young noblewoman in a dangerous ruin, no problem... what could possibly go wrong?" Suddenly realizing he'd uttered those words aloud, he hastily adds, "I mean, she survived down there alone... with us with her there should be no problem."
A grizzled old dwarf looks up with some bemusement from his seat on a plain wooden bench between the forge and the counter of Ironbeard’s Arms and Armor. When Tera tries to enter authoritatively and falls flat on her face he snickers, rises and moves to his place behind the counter, and announces, ”Welcome ta Ironbeards. We mostly deal in weapons an’ armor but I’m sure I got a cane ‘round here somewhere if ya need it.”
Sylvak is quiet on the way back, but he listens attentively to all that is said. Each day of their return he spends the first few hours after sunset staring at the sky, and the first few hours after sunrise praying and writing. At the ceremony, he smiles warmly when presented with his new wayfinder but stares off wistfully at nothing as the short moment of pomp concludes. Well... its official: a new life as a Pathfinder... far removed from the evils of Irrisen... safer, even with the adventuring, than home... no need to ever return there now... nope, no need to ever see the home where I was raised or any of my kin ever again... "Thank you," the half-elf replies to Master Zey before retiring to the archives to busy himself with some sorting (and some reading of the books he's supposed to be sorting).
Zagathoth sits quietly as bear and fox recount the story of the stone monster, and he scowls a bit remembering how useless the fire sword was. It takes a while but eventually he realizes his two companions are competing for the chance to make sex with the elf woman. His face screws up in concentration as he, for the first time, evaluates her form. hmm... she does have nice features, but she looks so... fragile... are people allowed to make sex with elfs? are orcs? do they have to make sure elfs are not married like with human womans? wait... bear and fox aren't really even human... they serve the human God, so they must follow the rule but maybe they can make sex with things humans can't? The orc turns to the bearman, seemingly in response to his statement of readiness, and answers "Are you allowed to make sex with bears? And if you make sex with a bear do you have to make sure she is not married, like with a human girl?"
While the others heal and catch up with Janira, Sylvak cautiously lays down on his belly on the log bridge and slowly crawls across. you look ridiculous, just run across like everyone else... although, I'd look far more ridiculous flailing in the water and calling for help! no, we just got out of trouble, no need for any unnecessary risks while everyone is catching their breath... Once he's safely on the other side, the half-elven priest brushes off his midnight-blue silk armor and trots towards his companions. "Well, that got a bit rough for a moment or two," he offers with a concerned smile, "I'm relieved we all got out in one piece, more or less. Maybe on the walk back, when we're all done here, Janira could share some strategic advice about, like, when and how to engage large enemies, or what to do when you get knocked off your feet in a fight?"
A Prayer of Adoration
Praise be to Hyjarth and Tourithia, the one who dwells above and below.
Praise and honor and adoration be to Gozreh, King of Sky and Queen of Sea.
Ondven might have lived a very different life had he been born in the shallows. Unfortunately, his school kept almost wholly to the deeps. In fact, some of his kin had even developed pupiless white eyes that let them see through the darkest waters. None of them, however, knew what a leaf looked like; so, when he was born marked with the dripping leaf that is Gozreh’s holy symbol they merely chuckled and joked that his birthmark looked sort of like a fat seahorse. When, as a young merchild, he dreamt of fish leaping above the waves and sky-fish (which he would later learn were called birds) diving beneath them, he was dismissed as an odd boy. The fact that he believed he could speak to fish and other animals did little to help his reputation. Being thought peculiar by his kin was hardly the most life changing thing about living in the deeps though. You see, there are a great many other things that dwell in the darkened depths. On an otherwise forgettable day in Ondven’s eighth year, his school had the grave misfortune of happening upon a hungry kraken. There was a steep cliff less than a mile away and at his mother’s very stern bidding the young merboy swam for the shallows as fast as he could and never looked back. For several weeks Ondven swam about the shallows eating and sleeping by the help of some friendly fish. The boy could, it turns out, speak with all manner of fish, crustaceans, and sea mammals. One particularly matronly old manta ray took the boy under her wing and led him about the shallows teaching him their boons and banes for nearly a year. When she grew weary, she brought him to an atoll where she knew there was a woman whose upperhalf resembled his, and who could speak with the fish as well. The woman, Melian, was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, which is unsurprising if you’ve heard the tales of nymphs before. The kindhearted water-nymph immediately recognized his birthmark for what it truly was and welcomed Ondven to live in her cove. She raised him in the heart of Gozreh’s domain: that narrow stretch of the world where neither wind nor wave is ever far from reach. She taught him the magic of nature, and the finer points of conversation. To her great sorrow, she had seen firsthand clashes between the peoples of the land and the people of the sea and she feared that without merfolk taking to the land to foster better relations (and humans heading peacefully below the waves) a great war would eventually be inevitable. She also instilled in him a curiosity about Gozreh’s myriad creatures that lived outside the reach of the sea. When Ondven came of age, his foster mother lead him on a long swim across the sea to the land of men. She aided him in the ritual to call a companion and seemed even more surprised than he was when the Wind and Waves provided a giant frog to aid him. After a bit of riding practice, Melian gave him what little human coin she had and sent him to find the Pathfinder Society. Years earlier she’d had a very positive interaction with an elven Pathfinder, she explained, and serving with them, she believed, would be a tremendous opportunity to show the landfolk how noble and good the people of the sea could be. So, with a spear and an armored shirt recovered from a fairly recent shipwreck, the young merman rode his trusty frog into the land of men to join the Pathfinder Lodge... a couple quick mechanical notes: Ondven would be a feyspeaker druid, with a mix of normal nature skills and some face skills. The ‘secret magic’ racial option would be behind his ability to speak with fish (and to grow legs for relatively short periods, though that didn’t come up in his background). His first level feat would be ‘undersized mount’ which would allow him to ride the giant frog (that can actually carry him, though it’ll be at medium load until like 4th level). His birthmark would actually be the birthmark basic(faith) trait, and he’s one of the minority of druids that actually worship Gozreh instead of following the Green Faith.
”Thank you!” Sylvak answers with wide eyes and a broad smile as he accepts the pearl from Kiango. ”And, for what it’s worth, I like ‘ostrich-sized’ better...” he continues with a chuckle as he aids Tupp and Kiango in providing funerary rites, ”ostriches hide their heads in tiny caves and he was, or might have been, forced to hide in a cave- it seems fitting...”
"Yes, of course," Sister Amet'Ra answers as she finally turns away from where the winged man had stood. With all of the wicked inhabitants of the fort and the ruins below vanquished, the priestess leads the group back up to the profane chapel. Before beginning the consecration in earnest, she sets Kaelaah to work burning away the vile mosaics that line the walls while the others smash the idol of Lammashtu and break the stone altar into pieces small enough to carry out. Once the trappings of the old cult have been stripped away, she leads Oliver and the marked in hanging half a dozen large blue and gold tapestries bearing the winged-ankh on the walls and erecting a portable wooden altar where the black stone one had stood. With the physical work done, the priestess fills an aspergillum with holy water and unfurls her scroll. "Feel free to offer whatever prayers you wish," she instructs the marked, "but I think it would be best if you wait outside the chamber... I can't afford any distractions, please make sure I am not disturbed..." When the chapel is clear, she begins an unintelligible chant that seems to echo throughout the entire structure. At first the sound is pleasant and reassuring, beautiful even as its celestial tones fill the air. Very quickly, however, a tension enters in; hardly discernible at first, it grows slowly but steadily as if the sounds themselves were engaging in an ever-expanding battle with the evil that lingered in that place. After a couple hours, barely audible groans and wails mingle with the formerly reassuring chant. The ominous counterpoint grows louder and more frequent until the moon reaches its zenith. As it begins its long decent and the warm light of dawn slowly draws closer, sounds of distress begin to fade and the chanting gradually moves towards a peaceful beauty once more. A few hours before dawn, the marked find themselves rushing through the ruins, weapons once more in hand, as armed feet clatter down the southern staircase. In the room where they had once slain Nualia's bugbear, they now find themselves face to face with Orin, Sheriff Hemlock, and five members of the city watch. After listening, at length, to the tale of what had happened below the fort. The sheriff leaves four men to guard Sister Amet'Ra and the chapel while he accompanies the marked on a tour of the ruins. "Good job, for the most part," he offers when they conclude in the demon's throne room, "let's, maybe, not tell folks there was some kind of demon trapped here, huh? I mean, you can tell your superiors--I doubt the priestess upstairs would keep it from them anyways--but the people of Sandpoint have been trough enough already just with the goblins, the last thing they need right now is to be living in fear of demons and the like." As the first light of dawn washes over the small island, a new atmosphere permeates the fort and the ruins below it. Sister Amet'Ra emerges from the chapel, the spell successfully completed, and there is a hopefulness about her that seems contagious. As preparations are quickly made to return to Sandpoint, the sheriff leaves Orin, Oliver, and four of the other watchmen at the fort with some provisions and the promise that they will be relieved as soon as a suitable rotation is set up to man the new outpost. "That should end the threat the Thistletop goblins had posed to the city," Oliver offers with an approving nod. After a few goodbyes, the journey back is uneventfully, though it seems unusually long to the sleep-deprived adventurers. There's is no hero's welcome this time: the few guards at the undermanned gate maintain a very professional decorum as Sheriff Hemlock returns, and the townspeople scarcely have time to notice the marked have returned before Sister Amet'Ra has lead them through the stable door into the Cathedral grounds. "Well done," she tells them once more, hugging them each in turn, "get some sleep and I'll see you at dinner."
One of my ancestors was a member of the Continental Congress and one of the original 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence... so, on behalf of the colonies, if you need any tea to celebrate your World Cup advance, feel free to fish it out of the harbor. I’m just kidding I hope all of you find something to celebrate today! I’m celebrating family, grilled meats, and multi-colored explosions. Also, I’ll post tomorrow in gameplay.
on Theo’s quote:
I haven’t had a chance to give it a ton of thought, or look anything up, but my first thought would be an oracle... iirc the spirit guide archetype is legal- if you picked the lunar mystery you could revere the moon as sort of the king of spirits (maybe harbor a semi-heretical view that the moon spirit is the celestial king-consort to Sarenrae’s Sun-Queen). The spirits you work with (from the archetype) could been seen as his servants, and several of them make sense with the moon: heavens obviously; waves has the tidal connection; nature, since the sun and moon rule over it; ancestors because the same moon shines on people generation after generation; you could use fire/life if you have some concept of the moon reflecting the sun’s character, or being a lesser version of it... or bones if they’re more like opposites... I think in PFS you can be pretty much any age and just don’t apply bonuses/penalties, right? I think it would be cool to make her like 12 and take an animal companion for her first revelation (lunar let’s you pick like a tiger or bear, or if you went with nature you could have a horse)- with the celestial servant feat (which I’m pretty sure is PFS legal) at 1st level your companion would be sort of a reprentative of your patron and/or ancestor that guides and protects you. Plus a 12 year old girl adventuring with a heavenly tiger or bear is just super cool imo. You could add that feat that gives a shaman’s spirit bonus to your animal companion temporarily at 3rd (spirit’s gift, iirc)... focus her on casting (and having a few tricks up her sleeve from revelations and spirit abilities) and trust the animal companion to protect her and handle some melee contribution. If you take your racial option for favored class bonus (and apply it to your companion) you’d actually have one of the best animal companions possible (because it’ll be a level ahead of other classes at 6th and 2 levels ahead if you make it to 12th). Is that at all on track with what you were hoping for, or should I post a handful of idea seeds to see if there’s something you’d rather develop?
Taryn scowls at the kobold’s durability and swings his heavy hammer at it once again.
In the midst of the commotion another person enters the Pig's Paunch and, bypassing the barkeep, approaches the table by the fireplace. There is some resemblance between the sprawled young woman and the new arrival whose azure blue eyes are set off by long golden-blonde hair. Standing just over six feet tall, with the pointed ears and refined features of an elf or half-elf, it seems a safer bet that this is a man though he is surprisingly androgynous, even for an elf. He wears midnight-blue silk armor, contrasted sharply by a yellow cloak and a golden holy symbol.
DC 20 know(religion):
The holy symbol is that of the Empyreal Lord Pulura who is associated primarily with the Aurora Borealis.
His voice offers little reassurance of his gender as he interjects, "Hi, sorry I'm late. I'm really more of a night owl than an early bird. I trust this is the Pathfinder meeting; I've made it a point to try to learn all the other new recruits' names and faces... I'm Sylvak." Awkwardly stepping around Ylva and Theodric, he gestures towards an open spot on the bench and asks, "may I?"
”Ve are not going to climb out the vindow to find somevhere to rest,” Emi scolds her half-elven companion, ”and vhy aren’t you talking?!? Stop being veird.” With a long, loud sigh she looks around at nothing in particular, her face downcast with concern and uncertainty. ”Couldn’t ve just check a few more rooms before ve go...”
"Out the vindow?" Emi asks with shocked confusion. "Vhy vould ve go out the vindow? Did something happen vhile ve vere all out of the room?"
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