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Well by way of comparison, I need 8,000.
That's a lot of owlbears. ;-)
Ouch. Feel free to re-roll that inn-keeper, buddy.
What shocked Halgrin the most was that, at first, he had actually considered going along with the piracy. If only to make sure that this team of theirs survived long enough to get to Chult. After all, this--party--was his first responsibility. But he wasn't going to sit around and let innocents die either. So instead of murder, he'd just commit betrayal. No wonder Helm didn't want anything to do with him. "Ay, Cap'n. We'll do what need's doing. Just give me a moment to make sure my partners are all properly convinced. Don't want any misunderstandings." He motioned to his party. "Horat, Wrinil, Olivia, Enizver. Come with me. We'll talk at the rear of the ship."
Once they have a moment to speak with each other, Halgrin says, "We're not killing innocents. And we're not going to become pirates. But for now, we need these people to get to where we're going. And we can always jump off at the next port of call, if needs be." "So here's what I'm thinking. Sabotage. We make sure this ship doesn't hurt anyone. And we do it as quietly as possible. I'm not dumb enough to think this will work completely. So if things go pear-shaped, only kill or wound as many as you need to protect yourself. We'll need a skeleton crew at the very least to keep sailing." "I have a rough idea of what you all can do. But I'm not the sharpest dagger out there. So if you have a better idea, I'm all for it. But in lieu of that--" "Horat, you're the best fighter here. Stick close to the Captain, in case we need to take him out. And if you think you can discretely slow this ship down any with some of your tricks, do what you can. Avoid burning down the sails, though. I don't fancy the idea of slowly dying of thirst in the middle of the water. The irony would piss me off." "Enizver, go down below. If you see ballista, or Gods save us, smoke powder cannons, do what you can to take them out. I'm not sure how exactly. Not exactly my area of expertise. But you're smart. I have faith you'll figure something out. And if you see an opportunity that will help in another way, take it. If a fight breaks out, find an area to snipe from, or get to one of the others." "Wrinil, I'm not gonna sugar coat it. You'll have the hardest job. But you're the perfect one for it. I need you to set up next to the helm. Because as long as we have that, we have control of the ship. Focus on staying alive, rather than dishing out the pain. If the Captain is there, you'll have Horat to back you up. If not, someone else will get to you." "Olivia, you're the most mobile out of all of us. So I want you to head to the crow's nest. Keep an eye on everyone, but most importantly Wrinil and Horat. And if you think you can somehow warn the other ship, do it. If things go sideways, unleash hell from above." "As for me, I'll go where the most idiots are, and do what I can to provide a distraction, if you catch my meaning." At this, Halgrin patted his sword. "And don't anybody get any ideas about being heroic. If it gets real bad, surrender. Blame everything on me. I am the only expendable one here, you got it? If any of you dare to die before me, I swear by almighty Helm, I will drag your carcass from whatever afterlife you find yourself in, and bring you back kicking and screaming so I can beat the living snot out of you. Is that clear?"
@Olivia, Halgrin wouldn't actually have that kind of information, but if you really wanna know then... According to some UA material I found, a Galley can travel 96 miles per day, while a Longship can travel 120 miles per day. So with good wind, we're talking about a trip of 9 to 12 days. But realistically they would stop off at other ports of call along the way like Bauldur's Gate and Calimport to rest and make some money by delivering cargo. So add another 3 or 4 days on top of that at least. So now we're talking about 12 to 16 days to get to Port Nyanzaru. Or let's just average that out to 14 days. I, um, might have DM'd more than one high seas adventure.
Hello, I'm one of the people that Krisam recommended. I know a bit about Zeitgeist since I was in a game that went on for a bit. I played an investigator, which was kind of a chore, honestly. They are a very reserved class for those first few levels. If system voting is still up, then I would also recommend 5e. Since it takes minutes to build characters. But otherwise I have no problem with Pathfinder. I only know 13th Age by reputation, but if that's the way you wanted to go, I'd be willing to learn. I would like to play a wizard or a sorcerer. Which would fit the adventure better, GM? Actually, I have been toying around with using Zeitgeist for a home game. Only I was planning on using the Fantasy Age system, which is pretty good for swashbuckling stuff.
"Look, don't let the tusks fool you, I'm a city boy. I have no idea. Is it like a giant? Are green giants a thing?"
“Captain, you give the order, and I’ll back up. But I think retreating back into that maze could be a death trap. One misstep and we’ll be cornered with nowhere to go. We need to break through!”
"Oh, I apologize. I thought we were having a polite conversation. But if not,” he trails off as he takes a rope from his pack. Halgrin quickly ties up James’ legs together, and then takes the other end of the rope and feeds it into a loop in the ceiling. Perhaps in another time it was used to hold oil lamps. Halgrin begins to heave the rope through until it grows taut. And then with a surge of strength he pulls and pulls until the mad man is hanging upside down from the rope, swinging like an awkward pendulum his face a foot away from the ground. With a professional’s surety, Halgrin ties off the rope and then slices off the extra line with a swift cut from his dagger. Halgrin then grabs the man by his shirt and lifts him up parallel to the ground. “We’re going to leave you here hanging from this rope. After a few minutes, the blood rushing to your head, will cause you to pass out. A few minutes after that, and your body will begin to suffocate. You may or may not regain consciousness at that point—I don’t really remember that part of the lecture. If it’s any comfort, you won’t feel a thing. You’ll just drift off to sleep. And then slowly die. You might even dream. “Now, if my compatriots and I survive, one of us will be able to come back here and cut you down—which means you get to live. But if something happens to us—well, how long do you think it’ll be before your buddies send someone down here? My guess, they’ll probably just leave through whatever secret exit they have, that you haven’t told us about. And I’m guessing they wouldn’t even bother to get you, even if they did know. “So you’ll be hanging here dead, until some poor Dung Sweeper passes through, which probably isn’t often based on how dirty this place is. “We’re going to be leaving now. But before we do, is there anything you want to tell us, that might increase our odds of survival?”
The fog of rage having cleared from his mind, Halgrin remembers himself. Rather than go for a kill, the watchman spins around and clotheslines the fleeing man with the flat of his blade. The rest hear a loud dull clang, followed by a thud. And when they catch up they find Halgrin, securing his target with a pair of manacles.
I began work on a summary for the adventure. In the future, you can also find the link in my character's page.
I added an arrow to the map to show where I moved from. Feel free to erase it, GM, once you've seen it. Oh one more thing, how much random psychic damage will I take if I start calling you P. Diddy? ;-)
Well, I survived. I'm back at work. And at home I currently have neither water nor power, but considering everything else going on in Puerto Rico, I'm feeling lucky. My two air conditioners are probably damaged--I won't know for sure until electricity comes back, which could be a couple weeks or more. But aside from that we didn't get any flooding to our home or any major property loss. Like I said, we were very lucky. I'll be getting back into my games slowly for the time being.
Well, I survived. I'm back at work. And at home I currently have neither water nor power, but considering everything else going on in Puerto Rico, I'm feeling lucky. My two air conditioners are probably damaged--I won't know for sure until electricity comes back, which could be a couple weeks or more. But aside from that we didn't get any flooding to our home or any major property loss. Like I said, we were very lucky. I'll be getting back into my games slowly for the time being.
I finished book 2 of Giant Slayer, and so far there have been something like 7 character deaths. It's the World War I of adventure paths. After the first few, you just get desensitized, sigh and say, "Dibbs on the ring of protection."
For what it's worth, I had a chance to read your gameplay thread and am caught up. Seems like a lively bunch. :-)
Backstory: Darla never knew her father. And her mother died from some illness when she was very young. If she has any other family, she’s never met them. Even the surname “Spinner” was just something she liked the sound of as a child. Korvosa can be a harsh place. And with no one to take care of her, she was sent to live in an orphanage. She was barely there for a few months before she was abducted by Gaedren Lamm, a local thief and ne’er-do-well, who liked to steal children to make into his slaves. He put her to work doing menial things in exchange for food and shelter. At first she stayed out of fear. But, eventually, she stayed out of habit. She was much too young to survive on her own, and far too naïve to know a better way to live. When she got a little older, Lamm trained her to be a thief. She had small, delicate hands that were just perfect for opening locks. And she did her job well enough at first. But eventually she began to feel guilty for taking things, and she would purposely mess up, if she didn’t think her mark deserved it. Lamm would beat her for these failings, but she was tough. She could take it. But one night, Lamm followed her and caught her purposefully foiling a job to rob a couple with a newborn daughter. The mother had a lovely voice and would sing nursery rhymes that made Darla nostalgic. And so Darla didn’t have it in her to rob the family of what little wealth they had. Lamm beat her viciously and left her for dead. She spent a week, sleeping on the street, licking her wounds. And by then she had discovered that the nice family had been murdered—Lamm’s petty revenge. Darla cried for hours that night. And by the next morning, she swore she would have revenge.
I have been desperately looking for an urban campaign. And this is perfect. I've been dreaming about a charismatic rogue halfling. I would use Unchained. I can work up a simple build later tonight, and post it here.
Hey, everyone. This is my new profile. I haven't finished it as of posting this. I just wanted to get a message up in the thread for now. I'm looking forward to gaming with all of you.
If I'm chosen, I'll create a profile and load this all up.
For all our sakes, I'm now going to refer to the "Vehicles (water)" proficiency as simply "Sailing". It's just less of a hassle to type.
I have no idea if Tanglefoot bags allow you to target wings, but I love that idea so much, I'm going to let it happen anyway. Nice one, M.
It suddenly occurs to me that it probably wouldn't take much to "westernize" Curse of Strahd. It would give the setting a bit of a Dark Tower meets Unforgiven vibe. Either way I'm cool with keeping this Ka-tet.
Izra stabilizes the two injured by the zombies with the help of her wand. And all the while many of the attendees are making a run for the doors. The ruckus destabilizes scaffolding at the front of the building and the structure collapses. Two attendees are buried by the rubble.
It's been nearly a year since the goblin attack of the Swallowtail Festival. A night to remember to be sure. And while there were many brave deeds that night, one unlikely bunch stood out. To hear others tell the tale, they alone stood against an unwavering horde of goblins bent on the destruction of all good things in the world. This was not the case. But it is true enough that this unlikely band held their own and saved more than a few lives. If nothing else they held the line long enough for the Watch to prepare a proper defense and repel the goblins fully. Regardless, for their actions, real or otherwise, they would come to be known as the Heroes of Sandpoint. And soon they would properly earn the title. First they foiled the kidnapping attempt of Ameiko Kaijitsu by her half-brother, Tsuto. Next they depowered a powerful evil artifact known as the Runewell of Wrath. And somehow during all this they stumbled upon a conspiracy led by an Aasimar named Nualia, a priestess of Lamashtu who wanted to destroy Sandpoint in a bid to rid herself of her divine taint and become a demon. But she hadn't anticipated the Heroes. And she was thoroughly defeated. The group known as the Heroes of Sandpoint mostly went their separate ways after that, save for two who stuck around. But trouble well return to Sandpoint, and in fact has already. And a new band of heroes will be needed. Because the Sandpoint Devil has returned.
Can I just say that I love RPGs. Here was this cool boss fight monster and you guys managed to turn him into an NPC. And with all of you going back and forth on what you should morally do, this has been a surprising bit of drama.
We are very fired, Davin thinks as he watches the duchess disappear under the water. When Filcrum points out the amulets he jumps back to attention. "You heard the man. Let's hup to."
"Do you have any details about what Dafton might be planning? Some overheard word? Breathed whisper? Flight of fancy?"
Lacking a social grace, Davin decides to be his usual blunt self. "You have been identified as a potential threat, sir. If you would be so kind as to let us search you and ask a few questions, we can simply let you go about your business afterwards."
Davin attempts to mingle with the crowd to get a sense of its mood. His hope was to blend it. But he absent-mindedly forgot that he was wearing his top hat and conspicous armor.
Oh, I actually hadn't considered using an investigator. That's a sweet idea. I could take docker with investigator, give him a fiddle and a sword cane. Oh, yeah, this could work. Steampunk Doctor House.
In the lands of Baron Miguel Dulce, there is a tiny copse of land where a small town lies near the Dread Swamp. It is a blight on his lands, full of degenerates, non-humans and other undesirable misfits. It is called Murk Water. The homes are built on stilts, to protect them from flash floods that happen all too often. The wooden walls have outward facing spikes to protect them from monsters. The herbalist makes a small fortune off of salves to ward insects and other vermin. And the single temple keeps candles lit in a constant vigil to mark the ones who passed away – often from the swamp, and usually violently. The Dread Swamp itself is home to crocodiles, kobolds, frogmen, ghouls and other dangers strange and foul. Life is hard, there. But it is life nonetheless. The swamp has a wealth of healing herbs, and valuable lumber. Peat grows black as pitch and plentiful. With some hard work, Murk Water has become a home for those who otherwise would have none. A place worth defending. And now it needs heroes.
Looking to run a Dungeon World game for 3 to 5 players. This game will be a homebrew set in Murk Water, a town on the edge of a swamp that holds many deadly secrets. Adventurers are sought to handle a band of kobolds that have been harassing the town lately -- of course, nothing is as it seems. I'm looking for a group of collaborative players who either have some familiarity with the Dungeon World rules or a willingness to learn. I have a feeling that the adventure will be fast moving, but I'm not expecting more than a post per week day, and one per weekend. Standard character creation as described in the DW rule book, so we'll be assigning ability scores. I would prefer to stick with the core classes, but I'd be willing to listen to suggestions. Anyone interested?
I vote for a convience store with a Protectron complaining that he isn't supposed to be there today.
I really am enjoying this system. I need to see if I can convince my home group to let me run a one shot with this.
Koshukhep wrecks the double-dealing merchant's kiosk, causing dozens of coppers in damage to his wares. Fazeem runs as far and as fast as he can.
"I can top that." "No one is supposed to know this. Damn Overseer had it classified, but screw it. It's not like I can get exiled again." "There's something we refer to as Vault Madness down there. I heard the Doc say once that humans wren't meant to never see the sky, or never feel the wind on your face, or eat the same food almost every damned day. And some folks, they just snap, you see. A lot of them just try to overdose on Med-X, or smuggle a 10-mil pistol into their bunk." "But some of them get violent and try to hurt people. Usually, Vault Security steps in and that's that. But, one guy, he lost it in a major way. He started killing people." "He was careful though. Always made it to look like an accident. Remember 4 years ago? The year without a lottery? That was him. Hogan Jobs. He was a techie who worked in the reactor. It took us forever to pin it on him. Because he wasn't a quiet loner. Had friends, wife, kids. Folks liked him. Some thought he should run for Overseer." "But he slipped up. And we cornered him. Bastard didn't even try and hide it. He just laughed and laughed. He thought he was bullet-proof. You see, he only went after the old, the weak, the sickly. The ones who were a burden according to him. And there was no way that folks would have him executed, because he had the strength to do what they wouldn't." "I didn't know if he was right. But we decided not to take the chance. We waited until the early morning, and walked him out the vault. We wore rad suits. He didn't. We took him somewhere were the rads were so hot, you could practically feel it through the suit. We shot him in the kneecaps and told him to crawl. We hung around until blood started pouring out his ears. And then we went home." "Hogan Jobs, the only Vaultee I ever escorted outside. May he rot in hell."
Apparently the lines read in an ancient, forgotten tongue, "I prepared explosive runes today." :-)
Bruin lies dreaming. For a moment he is drifting on the ebb and flow of starlight itself. But then he becomes more aware. The plane he is in begins to take shape. And Bruin is shocked to realize that he recognizes the place. "The Rusty Dragon?" "No. Not really," a voice says behind him. Bruin turns to find Viroleth sitting alone at a table, drinking a flagon of Ameiko's finest. The cleric notices that the flagon has a symbol of Desna on one side, and one of Cayden Cailean on the other.
Mickey is too pretty to be taken prisoner.
Uirdir discovers that it is a Wand of Magic Missile (38 charges). *** Bruin meanwhile can be seen admiring the fabric of the dressing gown. "This is truly fine quality silk. This dress has to be worth 60 gold measures, at least." But when the other heroes give him odd looks, he awkwardly bristles. "There's nothing wrong with a fellow knowing his way around fabrics. It's a valuable life skill when you have as many females as I do in my extended family. My mother, two sisters, three aunts, and nine cousins. Trust me, it's saved my life more than my crossbow here."
The heroes, save Barl and Tursk, all carry Helen's funerary boat. They gently placed it into the icy-cold water. And stepped away. Barl stands next to a lit brazier, with a large, sacramental bow covered in Erastilan symbols in his hands. And next to him, looking grim and subdued is Tursk. After a moment, Tursk finally speaks. "The first gift we ever receive is family." The others repeated his words. "I’ve only known Helen for a few weeks. She did not grow up here. This was not her home by birth. But by choice. When the call went out to aid our neighbors, she answered. She was under no obligation. No duty. She merely took it upon herself to help. And so I say, that while we did not grow up with her. That it makes her no less our family." "The first gift we ever receive is family." The others repeated his words once again. "And so we are burdened by her loss. But strengthened by her memory. Gods watch over Helen Gardamum and guide her to her final home." By this point the boat had drifted into the center of the lake. Tursk looked to Barl, and gave a nearly imperceptible nod. Barl lit the arrow in the brazier and drew back the bow, his powerful muscles making the longbow creak loudly in the solemnly quiet air. He held the shot for a long moment, judged the distance, and let the missile fly. It landed dead center. A perfect shot. Erastil was pleased. The boat went up in flames. "Farewell, Helen. Til we meet again. Tell my wife, I miss her," Tursk said quietly.
Hey, guys. Holidays got away from me and then work was brutally busy yesterday. Catching up now.
I see what you did there, you sexy, shoeless god of war, you.
Tursk sees Heaven take a heavy blow, and so he says a word of power, invoking Erastil's name to heal her wounds.
He then focuses on the bandit in front of him, and attempts to attack him with his mace.
"Drop your crossbow, and you have a deal. And might I recommend a different employer."
In my campaign, Golarion Catfolk look like anime humans with cat ears and a tail.
Three Gentleman Adventurers convince their favorite tavern owner to join them on one of their "excursions". "It'll be a smashing good time, Old Bean." 
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