Though not completely a post about pathfinder, I find that it is relative. The last gasp I refer to of, is the final game amongst my little group, that uses 3.5 rules. All the other DMs of my group have switched all their games to this glorious system, even I have, with the exception of one game.
Years ago, many years ago, in a town of Pineland. A town that only one year reached a population of over a thousand, before it slide back down under that mark. It was here that my friends and I had a very meek D&D group. We played, and played, but rarely did a campaign stay consistant enough to go over a few months, and over six levels. We grew quite adept at rolling level one characters mind you, and by the end of a few years, we easily had well over a hundred concepts by the time this streak ended. We had always dreamed of a campaign that saw characters through, from level one to twenty, and beyond that even. Perhaps, even to become Gods ourselves. It took about two years to reach that point.
It was at that point, that I wanted to design a campaign, that tore characters into the epic levels, and onward toward godhood. Though, I needed a good starting point. I wanted the players to start out as well-known heroes. Thus, around level ten would be a good point. This was when I found and devoured the Undermountain campaign. A nifty, and very hardcore adventure that took the characters from level one, to ten. It set the heroes up to be well known. And even then they were a crew that you didn't except to do very well. I mean, they had a druid, a wizard, a ranger, a necromancer, and a rogue. Though, throughout the adventure, they gained new allies, and new enemies. The rogue eventually betraying them towards the end. And them of course, conquering. But any adventure isn't without hilarious moments, and a few players realizing, that telling the DM that the pit they are jumping into has a harmless summoning ooze in it, is a rather bad idea.
After saving the day, they started on my campaign. One to take them from ten, to where they are now. We started at one, and now they are level twenty-four. They have fought old allies in the form of a rogue that betrayed them. Found new allies amongst lords of the nine. And have reached a point where the multiverse is literally falling apart around them. Faerun is dying. The gods are dying. And, they have one final battle left. One final quest that stands between them and either ultimate victory, or ultimate loss.
They have faced evil, good, betrayel, deceit, lies, truths, and many terrible fights. From sieges, to dungeons, and to dragons. Now they stand before an ancient city, ready to face the greatest evil creation has known. After this battle, faerun will be reshaped, gods reborn, and everything they knew before in this setting would be practically gone. It is here, that I change my campaign world into the pathfinder setting.
Its been a journey of a few years to do this campaign. I am proud to be able to be a part of its last gasp, as it allows me to join others in the first breath. Of this grand new world of fantasy. New paths to find, and new quests to fulfill. It may be a different name, but there will always be dragons to kill or befriend, as well as dungeons to explore or to fill. The same old dice I've used for years, will take me down into a new world.
And as I tear an old world apart to form a new one, I hope the only difficulty I have in this fantasy is actually drawing up the map.
I wish a good day for all the new pathfinders taking their first breath.
I will, for sure, post how the final session goes. Should be this saturday. I'm rather curious of how the end will go with all the players.
epic. My group is just getting into the actual camapign story today (our 2nd session).
Beginnings are the best part, for sure.
This summer I'm going down to Cape Cod, Massachusetts with my players. We're starting a new campaign at level 1 in a no-cable, no-internet, beachside summer house where the only source of heat is from the fireplace in the center of the age-old living room. Its in the middle of nowhere, very picturesque, and its gonna be completely awesome. We're staying for four days and I'm bringing my mug that looks like it belongs in a tavern, as well as all the dice, miniatures, character sheets, and books to last us well into each night.
Location, location, location :]
Beginnings are the best part, for sure.
This summer I'm going down to Cape Cod, Massachusetts with my players. We're starting a new campaign at level 1 in a no-cable, no-internet, beachside summer house where the only source of heat is from the fireplace in the center of the age-old living room. Its in the middle of nowhere, very picturesque, and its gonna be completely awesome. We're staying for four days and I'm bringing my mug that looks like it belongs in a tavern, as well as all the dice, miniatures, character sheets, and books to last us well into each night.
Location, location, location :]
I am so jealous!
I am so jealous!
Me, too!
I am so jealous!
+1!
The players found new and old allies, a veritable army of people fighting all at once, all manners of abominations and elder evils across the planes, and especially on Toril. The city of shades, which floated over a desert, found itself surrounded by six heroes. Six demi-gods walked on the air itself up to the floating city. Each hero got one sixth of the city to destory. Millions were against them. Using manner of blade, of spell, of psionic, and of knowledge they slew their way to the middle. Divine patron power flowed through each of them as they fought their way to the throne in the middle.
There sat their villain, their terror, their enemy, and their nemesis. The puppet master behind the destruction of creation. His name lost to all but these heroes as the battle initiated. They rolled their dice, and the end officially began. Hours of combat with their fatal foe, lead them to believe that perhaps he wasn't able to be destroyed, and he wasn't. But, once they removed his wealth of health, he would be banished to his own hell. Through blood, pain, and the destruction of the city around them. They finally killed their enemy. As the power of the gods themselves flew out of their enemy, EVEN as the power of the overgod, Ao flowed out of him. They all felt better somehow, in fact. Every creature, every animal, person, be they good, evil, or neutral felt better. As though they each inherited a gram of Ao's essence.
As new gods were founded in instants, and as the world of faerun was broken, and torn asunder so that any previous map would be worthless at this point, everyone found the abominations dying, the elder evils rolling into stillness or death. They all realized, that they would survive somehow with the help of a dead overgod's power.
Our heroes are not forgotten, in another instant, they found themselves in a grand stadium. Filled with what used to be over a hundred seats. Though as they looked around to the heavenly scenery, only about twenty or so of these seats were filled. The pantheon is much smaller now.
As the years pass, two to be exact. Civilization is somewhat back. Though, everyone realizes that the paths they once knew, were lost. Their maps were used for fires, and they all realized that to restore this order, that they would have to start somewhere.
Thus, the Pathfinder Society would spring into being. New heroes would arise, as they once again find their path.