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"Hyenafolk"? Is "gnoll" IP then? If so, how has World of Warcraft gotten away with it for 15 years?
Thank you Cori Marie for taking the time to explain. I was previously unaware of G&S, or anything like them, but then I only have the vaguest idea of what “Twitch” is. I must admit that I have been dismayed by the tendency I have seen from Paizo and others to move away from simple text to long rambling videos that take an hour to convey what I could read in 3 minutes, but obviously this is popular and becoming commonplace.
Then wouldn’t jf have been great if the blogpost had sais something like “if you don’t know, these guys are entertaining roleplayers who are experts at turning a gaming session into a great experience for the viewers”, rather than telling me that one guy was once in a commercial that was shown during a sporting event?
Or, to put it simply - if I want to watch a group of people playing a game I can wander into any gaming location or no doubt there are plenty already online. Yet the post seems full of the assumption that I should be excited that *this* group of people are playing a game, going to moderate lengths to tell me about them. What is so special about them?
Hated the idea of Goblins in core when first mooted. Hated them in the playtest. Hate them now.
No, don't remove them - they add drama and excitement to the play. However, the rules (as with many others in the playtest book) need a serious editorial overhaul. "A natural 20 is always a success. If it would be a natural success anyway, it become a critical success. A natural 1 is always a failure. If it would be a natural failure anyway, it becomes a critical failure."
I appear to have a defective copy - mine is in the voice of Brian Blessed - it certainly makes you pay attention!
Some of the design principles are faily obvious 1) Make classes matter. They're not just things you dip into to get the particular feature you want. They are the core of your character and gate the things you can and can't do. 2) Spread the love. Stop frontloading everything so that level progression is smoother, and going from 14th to 15th level is as big a deal as going from 4th to 5th. 3) Fewer subsystems. Everything works the same way. 4) Make skills matter, as you've said. I think there is a lot of subtlety in the skill system that those complaining that "the legendary guy is only +5 better than untrained" have missed - particularly the way it interacts with the critical success and critical failure rules. 5) Stop being That Guy. Specifically, That Guy who makes Characters Who Are Really Really Good At Only One Thing. Because yes PF1 may let you make the 1st level character with a +15 diplomacy, or a guy who can wield three halberds, but frankly that makes the game all about you, skews the principles of encounter design, and leads to encounters that are either too easy or impossible, depending on the makeup of That's Guys party.
For the love of god please ship some of these to Europe. Damaged sets are going for 90 quid on ebay. People are making a living selling individual pawns to hollow-eyed buyers in clandestine deals on street corners. The only ones on Amazon are shipped from somewhere called 'Idaho' and I don't even know where that is. Please help!
I have a little speil that I give newbies to explain the concept in about 30 seconds. It goes something like: "On the world of Golarion, the Pathfinder Society is an international academic organization dedicated to recovering and publishing the lost secrets of the past, because civilization has risen and fallen several times on this world. So they employ lots of archaeologists, scholars and the like. But they also emplooy people like you - Pathfinder Agents. People who are not afraid to go out into the field and get their hands dirty or face danger. Because the ancient artifact you want to recover may not be in the hands of someone who wants to give it up, or the lost ruin you want to explore may be inhabited by someone who isn't friendly. So they need people like you with more practical talents. But whatever your particular focus, you are expected to respect your fellow agents and the three tenets of the Society - Report. Explore. Co-operate." Tells them everything they need to know to enjoy a game within the space of one attention span.
Back when we had to fill in the numbers on our dice with a wax crayon, and hobgoblins were vaguely Japanese-looking, I experienced my first Edition War, between those who wished to move to the new "Red Box" D&D (who remembers Bargle?) and those for whom such a thing was a Blasphemy that was in violation of All Things True and Good. The difference this time, of couse, is that I am Right, whereas all who disagree with me are Wrong and Misguided.
Chelk tries to calm things down. "Come, good sir," he says, plucking mini balista bolts from his shoulder, "it seems that my young companion here has got himself into mischief, and caused a little trouble. Don't worry on his behalf, he looks fine. What a story we will have to tell the Earl later, haha what? We are sorry to have caused you such commotion - perhaps, um.." He pats at his belt for a moment, before coming up with a hipflask. "A little snifter to ward off the cold on these long nights, perhaps? Settle our nerves while our young friends finish the business they came for He brightens. "Perhaps we can raise a toast to General Arnisant, who died so long ago back in thirty-eight twenty-seven, you know, three eight two seven, perhaps." He drapes an arm around the half-orc and attempts to lead him back to the other room.
Chelk grins. "It is not that one cannot do certain things in Taldor, Master Remmy. But one must do them in a certain way, obey certain customs, follow certain proprieties." He sighs. "Appearance, and its maintenance, can be much more important than substance here, sometimes. It is why I broke with my family and joined the Society. At least there I feel I am getting things done."
”Now look here,”[\b] blusters Chelk, his face reddening and his whiskers twitching, [b]”I’m not suggesting giving up on anything. It’s all very well seeing the world in black and white, but this is Taldor, and there are a million shades of grey. Politics here is a snakepit. We do something official, and we take sides - for somebody and against someone else. And it matters not that you didn’t mean to take sides, or even that you didn’t know there were sides. You’ve planted your flag one way or the other. So I’m saying keep it unofficial. We’re not here to fight pirates. We’re here to gather evidence, yes? Or have you forgotten that in your righteous zeal to rain fire on wrongdoers?”
Lucia's arrow flies wide, but Corlan has a much truer aim. His shaft plunges through the breast of the bird. Instantly the bird rises several feet from the stump, revealing strange grey tendrils extending from its feet into the center of the tree stump. The tendrils begin to thrash and writhe, and the body of the bird is thrown free, like a discarded puppet. Then with a 'thwip' the tendrils are rapidly drawn back into the treestump. There is a strange gurgling roar, and a wide toothy mouth opens on the treestump. At the same time, several of the 'roots' that had been surrounding the stump begin to move and undulate, hauling themselves out of the group to reveal themselves as tentacles.
The intoxicants, the wine, the delicious pastries, the music, the drumming, the sweet-scented smoke, the dancing, the horizontal dancing - all seem to have a seriously disorienting effect, even for Lucia who wasn't really partaking. Time seems to stop and you feel yourself falling, yet staying still, in a way curiously reminiscent of when you arrived at the Chateau. ================================= You are lying on a table. You cannot move, but you can feel the cold metal beneath you, and your head feels heavy, as though something is attached to it, like a heavy helm. Bright lights shine overhead, blurring your vision, and making you blink. You get the distinct impression of figures moving around the room where you are, but cannot turn your head to see. "Failure in the realization circuits. It's those new parts that came in from Aperture last week." "Damn, we're losing insertion. The paradox is too high. They're rejecting it." "Unusual - normally the orgy is the subjects' favourite part. Remember the group who tied up Isabel and Valerie and..." "Total insertion failure. We've lost the matrix." "Switching to backups. Rebooting matrix at timestamp plus 11. Reinsertion shortly." "Will they remember any of this?" "Unlikely. There may be some minor resets to defaults in the matrix though. That might confuse them a bit. Reinsertion in 3... 2... 1..." ================================= The sun is shining through the trees of the glade, and you have a curious sense of time having shifted, as though you have been asleep for too long. There is no sign of any of the Ambrevilles or any other inhabitants, but the members of the group appear to have fallen asleep after an elaborate game of dress-up which none of you can remember. Corlan and Celeste appear to have swapped clothes, while Lucia is now dressed in the scanty silks of a tavern dancing girl. Borden is naked except for a flowerpot on his head and a pair of riding boots. Mordan is still wearing his burnt clothing, but his hair is now long, bright green and tied in up a pair of very fetching bunches. Sister sits nearby, looking very much unchanged except for a sparkly collar and an eyebrow piercing. Looking around, you can see your normal clothing and gear scattered around the clearing, sometimes in places where you'd swear it wasn't when you looked there mere moments before.
The key to stopping this going off the rails is to have the Venture Captain at the beginning emphasize that he not sending the group to arrest Jamila or to recover the items, but merely to find out where she has gone. I rationalized this as Jamila maybe having unknown powers or allies, and the VC needs to think carefully about his next move, but wants to locate her before the trail goes cold. Then, have their elemental emmisary mention the fact that the elemental chieftain knows where Jamila is, and who she is working with. This gives the party the hook they need to submit to going through the dungeon, even if they are reluctant to be hailed as prophets, or to get involved in the elemental clan feuds. A previous poster mentioned that there is nothing that the Earth/Water/Fire elementals can offer to match the Air Elementals wanting to 'uncover secrets'. This is a problem, so I tried to play up the idea of the air elementals being a 'rogue splinter group' - if even fire and water elementals can work together in one clan, why are the air elementals off on their own, pursuing their own agenda? Add to this the homicidal nature of air elementals dislike of the oread sorceror, and you can balance the two out - make it clear to the players that they are in the middle of something larger here, without there necessarily being a 'good' side and a 'bad' side. If the group are reluctant to pick a side, remind them that they are not really committing to anything - they know they are not prophets, they can't speak for the Pathfinder Society, and the elemental chieftain has the information they need. They get the info, and maybe open up lines of communication between the elementals and the Society, but anything else is above their paygrade.
Sizara slams herself against the door, seeking to knock away whatever is barring it, or to break the door itself off its hinges. As she crashes against it over and over, the wreck begins to tilt on its precarious perch. As she rebounds from the door one more time, her weight catches the tilt at just the wrong moment, and the whole wreck tilts back almost 45 degrees.
Sizara tumbles, crashing against the bulkheads, before the wreck rights itself, hurling her forward again against the wooden door, which finally cracks and bursts open under her weight.
The wreck creaks ominously as it settles back on its rock. Surveying the room, Sizara sees what must have been the captain's cabin. Most of the furniture is broken or rotted, but in the middle of the floor a skeletal figure of a man lies still. Where one hand would be is a metal hook, driven into the wood of the floor, while with the other hand he reaches out to a seachest that is bolted to the wall.
Besmara apparently thinks pirates should do their climbing in the rigging, not on cliff faces, as even with Sizara's rope, Corliss barely makes it to where the ship is wedged in the rocks. The hull of the ship is easy to enter, as Sizara can just walk through the hole that has been ripped in the side. The inside of the hull is cool and dark, although Sizara feels the hull shift and tip a little as she enters - the ship is obviously not as firmly wedged as it appears, and too much weight inside might cause it to fall. Little remains inside, but with her low-light vision Sizara can see that several doors lead off from the section she is in. One door in particular seems to have been attacked for some reason, as large scratches and gouges have been cut into it. A handaxe is still wedged in the wood.
@Sizara - in the absence of a greatsword, you could quite easily find a branch or plank to serve as a greatclub, or a longspear.
Ran this yesterday. Giving the PCs a Perception check to notice the Captain quickly hiding a sheet of paper away when the entered her office was enough to shift the players from "The Captain is an a-hole" to "The Captain is a Corrupt A-hole". After that they were on the lookout for clues, and had no qualms about breaking into her office.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0Bzm2DNZNJqxnaVh2NTFwcXBXYmc/view?usp=shari ng The captain tears a sheet of paper out of his ledger and quickly sketches a rough map. ”The valley is about 10 miles long – the river goes down the middle mostly – turns into a swamp here where it’s blocked by these three small hills, then flows northward. Apparently it empties into a cave system somewhere to the northeast. The road, such as it is, follows the river for the most part, crosses it at the Old Bridge – be careful, the stones are loose – and then goes south, up towards the Dwarven lands. My men patrol the road, and we have a small outpost where it leaves the valley, but apart from that it’s wild country, I’m afraid. Could be anything out there.” He ponders for a moment – “For what it’s worth, goblinoid activity seems to be centered around the northeast – may be related to some of those caves, but I don’t have the men to investigate. And as for ‘lost Quasqueton, which everyone seems interested in – well, those woods are thick – could be anywhere.”
Questions, complaints, discussion, jokes, obligatory Monty Python quotes and blatant rules lawyering go here.
RECRUITMENT CLOSED Damien, Gnomezrule, trawets71, if you can supply something acceptable in literally the next few hours I'll see if I can slot you in somewhere. Thank you all for your submissions, which were all excellent, which is why I've decided to run two parallel games. Having thought on it some more, I've decided to reject the option of a shared universe, simply because of the additional effort and time it would require. It would be an interesting experiment, but not one I can indulge in at the moment. Anyway, here is the list of accepted submissions: Henris Flynn - Male Human Transmuter
which gives us two parties of 6, as follows: These six characters, please go to Gameplay Thread A Lucian
These six characters please go to Gameplay Thread B Margut
Gameplay thread A
Any alignment restrictions? Co-operate with the other characters. Don't be an arse. LE hellknight with a strong code of ethics would probably work. LE "I'm going to charge the party members for my services" probably won't. NE who takes the long-term view and realized its better for them not to screw people over might work. NE "I do what the hell I like and damn the consequences" probably won't. CN (carefree and whimsical edition) might work. CN (disruptive jerkass edition) probably won't.
It took years of alchemical research to perfect those glass bottles which are invulnerable while being carried, yet shatter flawlessly every time when thrown. You can have multiple bottles on you, but in future sort our your character sheets! *wags finger*
OK, so since people are asking for build guidelines... 2nd Level - anyone coming to the Keep probably has a history. 20 point buy
1000gp wealth, which you can spend on any equipment you like, but keep in mind the resources issue. If you build a character that is heavily dependent on her bow, what are you going to do if you run out of arrows? Or it gets sundered? Consider Craft(bowyer) or Craft(fletcher). Paizo sources only please, simply because I can look them up in the SRD if I don't have it. If you can find a campaign trait somewhere that really suits you, feel free to take it. A couple of paragraphs of character background - show me how interesting your character is! Ask if you are unsure of anything.
Far west of Tamran, in the foothills of the Mindspin mountains, the conflict between Nirmathas and Molthune is more far off tales of war than everyday reality. When the kingdom sundered, no-one was quite sure on which side of the border one lone, swampy, unnamed valley stood, and even fewer cared. So the Castellan of the keep ordered all flags lowered, all signs of loyalty hidden, and waited for someone from one side or another to come to give him orders. He's still waiting. So the Castellan maintains a ragtag garrison as best he can, mostly old soldiers, younger sons of local farmers, drifters and those looking to leave their past behind. He pays them from charges levied on travelling merchants whose wagons make the long, slow trek up the valley, taxes on scattered dwarven prospectors staggering back triumphantly with a pouch full of nuggets, and from selling 'charters' to scattered groups of adventurers who find their way to the Bree-Yark Inn, drawn by vague legends of the goblin-infested Caves of Chaos, and the whispered wizard hold of Quasqueton. Such groups rarely stay more than one season, but their charter fees, beer money and the rare treasures that they manage to liberate from the local goblinoid tribes just about meet the Keep's maintenance costs and the garrison's pay. But each year, the Keep's walls crumble a little more, the garrison's blades get blunter, and fewer soldiers are levied to wield them. The howls outside the walls at night get louder, and vague shapes are seen moving in the morning mists. And the Castellan, fretting in his tower, wonders if perhaps those orders from Tamran or Canorate will come too late... With the spring snows melting, and the road from the lowlands now open, the Castellan looks out down the valley to see who will make the trek up country this year, to seek their fortune at the Keep on the Borderlands.
Haunting of Harrowstone brought us the grim Splatterman. Now In Search of Sanity introduces the chilling Tatterman. Presumably future APs will introduce us to the Millinery-themed Hatterman and his charming, silver-tongued companion Flatterman?
Lucia and Borden fiddle with the cannon, managing to load one of the small pyramid of cannonballs that is conveniently located nearby. There is no black powder of course, but considering the insanity happening around them this seems like a minor point. And indeed this proves so - touching a lit tindertwig to the fuse of the loaded cannon produces a loud report, a severe recoil kick, and a large cloud of acrid grey smoke. This thins just in time for the group to see their shot 'splash' into the carpet, a few feet from the advancing Gropey Hot-tub Confident that they have their range, with Celeste's help they struggle to reload... Meanwhile, Corlan maneuvers closer, pivoting his bathtub in the stiff souwester that now blows down the hallway. He too fires off a shot, but comes nowhere near. Marie-Therese and Mr Rubberduck maneuver closer, getting off a single shot with their cannon with barely misses the approaching hot-tub. The Gropey Hot-tub returns fire - ONE! TWO! THREE! cannons ring out as it broadsides the attacking fleet. One shot goes nowhere, one whistles over Corlan's head before smashing a hole in the wall, and another strikes Marie-Therese's bathtub, breaking away a large part and causing a large amount of foam to slosh out. Meanwhile, Sister is searching the nearby cupboards and drawers. She finds:
but she's fairly sure there is no loofah here.
Rotation:
"Relationship? Hey! She's my sister"
"The following fragment was recovered from a chest discovered adrift in the deep Ethereal, possibly left there by a mage who never had the opportunity to retrieve it. Although its origins are obscure, its format is that of a 'sea shanty' - a sailor's song sung on several Prime worlds. The fragment appears to be incomplete, and describes the build up to a most curious sea battle. Several references within it suggest a link to the cause of the planar temporal anomalies you have been tracking. I hope it will be of interest."
Now heave! and ho! me hearties
Oh yohoho and a bottle o'rum
Cap'n Corlan came from Greyhawk
Oh yohoho and a bottle o'rum
Borden trailed behind him
Oh yohoho and a bottle o'rum
Lucia was a noble's lass
Oh yohoho and a bottle o'rum
Celeste could see the madness
Oh yohoho and a bottle o'rum
Mordan and his Sister
Oh yohoho and a bottle o'rum
(manuscript ends)
Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph'nglui mglw'nfah Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
"Maybe I ought to go in and see if she needs her back washed..."
The westernmost door on the north side of the Grand Hall leads to a short corridor, with three doors on the right. The first bears a wooden sign with 'Privy' written on it. The second has a similar sign marked 'Bathroom'. The third door has a glowing blue sign above, with "Blue Oyster Bar' written in magically glowing letters.
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