Creative Director
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So, after several false starts, I finally got my first Pathfinder RPG game off the ground earlier this evening after work... the one I mentioned back in my foreword in Pathfinder #18, for those who first heard of it there. This campaign is, in theory, going to serve two purposes: it gets us in the Editorial Pit at Paizo playing our game and learning our rules, and it lets me get to talk in a funny goblin voice now and then.
All we've done so far is create characters; the players are Erik Mona, Sean Reynolds, James Sutter, Wes Schneider, Chris Carey, and Jason Bulmahn. Of course, Jason didn't show up for this first game, because he apparently had some BETTER game to go to tonight, but he only missed out on character creation so he's not behind in XP.
Yet.
Anyway, I'm creating this thread to give the players somewhere to post journals, record funny quotes, and so forth and so on. I'll post more about the game now and then as well... but so far, there's nothing to report on yet...
...except that a pretty interesting group of heretics, cryptozoologists, violent crusaders, undying thugs, and creepy woodsfolk just walked into Sandpoint 3 years after the big goblin raid at the Swallowtail Festival.
Wonder what sort of trouble they'll stir up?
All we've done so far is create characters; the players are Erik Mona, Sean Reynolds, James Sutter, Wes Schneider, Chris Carey, and Jason Bulmahn.
Whoah! Quite the collection of gamers!
I WANT VIDEO OF EVERY SESSION POSTED ON YOUTUBE!
Oh, and you can go ahead and sticky this please.
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Woot! I love doing voices as a GM. I still have a voice that makes my players' skin crawl years after the NPC was introduced. :D
Items of note from last night:
- Chris's FIRST RPG character (a ranger) is specifically NOT a prostitute, that being one of the only three professions James could come up with off the cuff. (The other two being baker and fletcher; guess you know what's relevant to your lifestyle.)
- This was ALMOST the first time I ever created a character younger than myself. But #$%& THAT noise. I'll play a character out of his twenties thank you very much.
- Gamers will roll 4d6 all damn night if you let them.
- Sutter has ACCADD: Ambitious Character Concept Attention Deficient Disorder.
- Vikings don't float.
- Crowbars are heavy.
- Girt Bear-Wearer.
"Your attempts at humor, bard, are insignificant compared to the MIGHT OF GORUM!" --Vorn
Worry not. Although other errands have prevented my joining at the outset, I shall not tarry any longer. You can be at ease, assured of my presence in this motley crew.
-V
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Chief Creative Officer, Publisher
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"Girt Bear-Wearer" was my joke name for my barbarian, by the way. For some reason we got talking about how barbarians were always decked out in bear pelts, and it went from there.
I finally settled on a name that reflects my first-level feat choices of Endurance and Die Hard: OSTOG THE UNSLAIN!
Let's see how long I can keep that title...
That name almost sounds like a challenge.I finally settled on a name that reflects my first-level feat choices of Endurance and Die Hard: OSTOG THE UNSLAIN!
Let's see how long I can keep that title...
If I were the GM, it would be. >:D
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Chief Creative Officer, Publisher
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That name almost sounds like a challenge.I finally settled on a name that reflects my first-level feat choices of Endurance and Die Hard: OSTOG THE UNSLAIN!
Let's see how long I can keep that title...
My temptation is to say, "Oh, it is!" but after a 100% arbitrary "alien targets you, you die" PC murder in James's Call of Cthulhu campaign, I know better than to tempt fate.
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My temptation is to say, "Oh, it is!" but after a 100% arbitrary "alien targets you, you die" PC murder in James's Call of Cthulhu campaign, I know better than to tempt fate.
Hmmm, sounds familiar, had some of those in my Delta Green game I was running. Something so satisfying about Cthulhu after all the self important fantasy characters that feel as if they are entitled to kill everything, run off with the loot, and LIVE!.
Investigator A: Where did you get that?
Investigator B: This?! Oh that thing we found in the basement was wearing it. It looks valuable don't you think?
Investigator A: <backing away slowly> Uhhh, yeah.....looks very interesting...hey, listen I got to run, just remembered something I left on the stove.
The obviously new player for Investigator B quickly learns that nothing comes for free in Cthulhu....
P.S. I am looking forward to reading about this campaign.......Shadows Under Innsmouth....errrr, I mean Sandpoint.
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Creative Director
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That name almost sounds like a challenge.I finally settled on a name that reflects my first-level feat choices of Endurance and Die Hard: OSTOG THE UNSLAIN!
Let's see how long I can keep that title...
My temptation is to say, "Oh, it is!" but after a 100% arbitrary "alien targets you, you die" PC murder in James's Call of Cthulhu campaign, I know better than to tempt fate.
That death wasn't arbitrary at all! I rolled a die to see who died. It was all NICE and LEGAL.
That death wasn't arbitrary at all! I rolled a die to see who died. It was all NICE and LEGAL.I'm pretty sure that "You died because I rolled your number on a d6" is just about as arbitrary as it gets. ;)
;) I can guarantee the d6 was used to determine whom the d20 autocrit ranged touch attack's asteroid to the brain pan. And the loaded deck on the crit card draw can not be proven.
I mean really...
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Creative Director
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I thought 'arbitrary deaths' were standard for Call of Cthulhu and that unless investigators had done something to mark themselves for particular attention, that dice rolling to randomly determine which investigator gets mushed first was also pretty standard?
Death in Call of Cthulhu CAN be arbitrary. It's actually sort of refreshing after playing lots of D&D. It's a very VERY different play experience.
Vikings don't float.
Actually, a few days after they try to depose White Estrid they usually do - face down.
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Calistril 10, 4709
A.,
Happy as always to contradict, I write to you from my room at the Horse & Henbane Inn, a wholly pleasant little stopover, on my second night in Wolf’s Ear. In fact, the village has proven so charming—especially after the trial of racing across pig-stinking Belkzen and the tedious Storval badlands—that I might extend my stay for even a third evening. I must say, dear aunt, though I always respect your advice, this time your counsel seemed to confuse fact with a fancy from one of your fictions. Although admittedly the shady hamlet’s name proves most evocative, from the agreeable nature of my stay I can scarcely believe anything more sinister than the occasional mad boar or chicken thief harrows its good people.
I regret to inform that my impression of “civilized” Varisia cannot be entirely lustrous, though. My itinerary was most rudely altered upon reaching Ravenmoor. While I can’t say I blame the greasy bumpkins for denying me lodgings—as I’m sure I smelled more of horse sweat than my nag Larkspur—leaving a traveler to the streets, especially one who’s obviously traveled so far and hard, throws doubt on the entire concept of homespun frontier hospitality. I suppose I’m quick to forget that, in some places, little separates man from orc—especially in the case of one particular shrew who claimed I had the face of a “heathen.” Heathen? Truly? You of all people, my periphrastic aunt, know my feelings on the sicknesses of the divine, but to have some dull-eyed, pox-pimped crone and her litter of phlegm-moist whelps speak down to me of—
And here you can see long travels continue to disagree with my charm and ever congenial nature. Nothing another soak won’t remedy, I’m sure. I’ve been eager to indulge in the comforts of civilization again, as they’ve been so long denied. Yet even in these quaint surroundings, there is no comparison to the salons and saunas of Ardis.
Ah, I’m afraid I’ll have to end this abruptly, old mum, the boy has arrived with my order. They make the most decadent spice tarlets here, baked with plum apples that grow wild at the edge of the local Churlwood. Why they insist on garnishing everything with spray of monk’s hood, though, I doubt I’ll ever understand. (I’ve included the sprig just delivered me.) I leave within the week for Galduria and plan to make sleepy Sandpoint three days after. Expect my research into our mythic quarry to follow soon after. As always, I hope this letter finds you as healthy, hectic, and ribald as always.
Ever your dutiful and adulatory nephew,
S.
Confound Belor for going to Magnimar and leaving this town of weaklings and half-wits in my care. I have neither the will nor the patience for this.
From the Black Book of Velmarius Elazarin
Day 228,
I must be truthful. I never would have thought that such a small, slumping town as Sandpoint would hide such adventures. Although I have only been here for two weeks, after my hasty departure from Magnimar due to recent unpleasantness, I have already found myself embroiled in a nefarious plot. Of course, I never thought this journey would be effortless, but I never expected such resistance in a backwater hovel on the coast of Varisia.
Erika and Anika are quite luscious.. and well to do. That is, as well to do as someone can possibly be in this hole. Back in Westrcrown they would be paupers, perhaps suitable to serve me at my father's table... but I digress. What they lack in refinement, they compensate for with other "endowments". Of course, my adventure was progressing quite agreeably and the wine was flowing swift and sweetly. Although I was hoping to find not one, but two treasure chests at the end of my journey, unforeseen difficulties have arrested my progress. An emergency in town (some commotion among the peasants) pulled us away from our revelries, right into the path of a musclebound oaf from the north. I dare not speak to the motivations of the maidens, but Erika was quite taken by his heroics, dealing with some ridiculous drowning man.
Now I have but one lady on my arm.. and I am off to prove myself in her eyes at some abandoned house. Wonderful. I long for the days when my status alone opened all doors. This heroics business does not at all suit my tastes. No matter, I am sure that my talents shall see me through, as they always have.
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From Kirin's Journal:
Anyone who still believes in gods should see what those creatures did to that boy's father. My clothes still reek of another man's insides turned outside, and I'm not so sure we'll be any different by the end of the night.
I went in through the upper window (throwing down a rope for the humans), only to be met by the biggest spider I've ever seen. Before I even knew what was happening, it had sunk its fangs into my arm and pumped me full of venom that blackened my flesh and turned my nerves off at the shoulder. Well, except for the pain sensors... those were just fine.
I stepped off the branch and left the insect to the barbarian, and in rising panic at my festering arm, actually asked the cleric of Gorum for assistance. Shows how flustered I was. He was useless, of course - just stood there poking and prodding while I frothed and vomited, growing weaker every second. Finally, however, I managed to pull through on my own, no thanks to his Lord in Iron. Then it was back up through the window, dizzy and barely keeping my feet, only to find those... things....
Dammit, this arm is useless. Finish later. For now, a note on my new companions:
Ostog: Simple. Proud. Brutal. Easily befriended with a bottle of wine. In other words, a typical human. The northerner's straightforward manner of speaking continually leaves the more dandified men at a loss, and keeps me entertained.
Styrian: A foppish scribe clawing at bits of rumor, constantly scribbling in his notebook and hoping for fame. Humans are so cute when they pretend to be historians, always making pronouncements about how "these events happened over FIFTY YEARS AGO!" Shock. Gasp. Applause.
Zandu: Another loner - saw him following me as I searched through the dump for salvage. Seems to have taken on the town's protection as a personal burden. Motives unclear.
Velmarius: An arrogant and sissified magician from Cheliax, focused more on women and rutting than study. Amusing to watch him interact with Ostog. Hard to keep from laughing when he starts in about the "cities" he's seen and women he's conquered. Child, I was escaped from bondage and traveling the world when your interest in those fleshy milk-sacks was purely culinary.
Vorn: Deputized to take care of the town, for whatever that's worth. Another so-called cleric, too scared of the truth to walk this life alone, but at least he's big and knows how to hit things. It'll give him a nice back-up career once he comes to his senses. Perhaps the only one.
RPG Superstar 2009 Top 32
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That name almost sounds like a challenge.I finally settled on a name that reflects my first-level feat choices of Endurance and Die Hard: OSTOG THE UNSLAIN!
Let's see how long I can keep that title...
I have a Character named Vykos the Deathless and after out first battle it was almost a very poor choice of name. Thankfully he is still around and Jal hasn't seen fit to think of it as a challenge, despite his woefully poor health.
Okay so,
Erik- Ostog, Ulfen Barbarian
Sean- Vorn, (human) Cleric (Gorum)
Wes- Styrian, Varisian (Ustalav) Bard
Jason- Velmarius, Chelaxian Sorcerer (?bloodline)
Chris- Zandu, (human) Ranger
James- Kirin, (elf?) Rogue?
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Lovin' the write ups so far guys!!
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Okay so,
Erik- Ostog, Ulfen Barbarian
Sean- Vorn, (human) Cleric (Gorum)
Wes- Styrian, Varisian (Ustalav) Bard
Jason- Velmarius, Chelaxian Sorcerer (?bloodline)
Chris- Zandu, (human) Ranger
James- Kirin, (elf?) Rogue?----------------------
Lovin' the write ups so far guys!!
Some of these guys would be fun to draw!
Reading these notes from various perspectives feels a little bit like reading Faulkner. (Yes, I just compared campaign notes to Faulkner.)
At any rate, love it so far, and it sounds like it barely started!
Oh, when does the game actually start?
"Girt Bear-Wearer" was my joke name for my barbarian, by the way. For some reason we got talking about how barbarians were always decked out in bear pelts, and it went from there.
Only wussy barbarians wear bear pelts. Real men wear saber-tooth pelts, duh.
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Creative Director
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Oh, when does the game actually start?
We had our first session last Thursday; the group met up, then headed south to the locked up and supposedly abandoned Valdemar Manor to look for a missing kid and his missing dad, and so far have run afoul of giant spiders and creepy little wee folk.
Next game is next Thursday.
Ooo! Wee folk = fey?
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Oh come on ... fey? Creepy little wee folk in Sandpoint ... they be Goblins again.
Come on sing the song guys!
Goblins chew and goblins bite.
Goblins cut and goblins fight.
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force.
Hmmmm why is it I only hear my own voice with this ... oh well
Goblins race and goblins jump.
Goblins slash and goblins bump.
Burn te skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!
Chase the baby, catch the pup.
Bonk the head to shut it up.
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We be Goblins! YOU BE FOOD!!!!!!
Man I loved that when I ran my first group through the Rise of the Runelords. Now that I have moved, I am going to run a new group through it all over again ... ahhh the song is so sweet to mine ears ...
Oh come on ... fey? Creepy little wee folk in Sandpoint ... they be Goblins again.
*facepalm* Of course, goblins are even mentioned above!
They're actually not goblins. The PCs have determined that much, but they're not sure WHAT they really are. Yet.
Oooh...oooh...are they fey creatures from the Fellnight Realm?!
;-D
Sorry, couldn't resist.
--Neil
IF they're 3 apples high, blue and possessed of a predilection for carving domiciles from mushrooms ...
KILL THEM ALL!! ^_^
I agree....Her Indoors thought it was childish and crude....Child, I was escaped from bondage and traveling the world when your interest in those fleshy milk-sacks was purely culinary.That is a beautiful quote...
To be fair, Kirin is not so much designed for polite company. :)
Oooh...oooh...are they fey creatures from the Fellnight Realm?!
I think they're shadow creatures from the Darkbad... or even *shudder* Scarytown.
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Podcast! Podcast! Podcast!
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Podcast! Podcast! Podcast!
Dude. This would be SO NC-17 rated. Like, not even funny, making nuns and puppies cry high nerd content vulgar. Especially Sean. And Jason. And Erik. And Wes. In other words, I'm not sure you realize what you're asking for. :P
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Podcast! Podcast! Podcast!Dude. This would be SO NC-17 rated. Like, not even funny, making nuns and puppies cry high nerd content vulgar. Especially Sean. And Jason. And Erik. And Wes. In other words, I'm not sure you realize what you're asking for. :P
Are you kidding me? A podcast of this would be GREAT!