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Red's Journal, Preview
Name's Red. At least that's what they all call me. I never had a proper name. Nor a proper father. Not that I could blame him. My mother was such a simpering little git, always tugging at Saul Venkaskerkin's coattails at the Golden Goblin. "Oh, Mr. Venkaskerkin, can I get that for you, sir?" "Oh, Mr. Venkaskerkin, is your food to your liking?" "Oh, Mr. Venkaskerkin, let me send someone up to warm your bed for you." Maybe I'd think better of my mother if I hadn't hated Saul so much. Probably not, though. Life is hard. If you don't fight for what little you have, you end up with nothing. I learned that so many times over I might as well have it tattooed across my petite little a**.
Saul was a number. His first thought on having a bright-eyed, pigtailed, cute little red-headed halfing girl born right in his casino in Riddleport? "I'd better teach her to pick pockets!" I thought it was all fun and games. Until the first time a patron broke my cheekbone, choked me, and threatened to cut my eye out. And instead of defending me, like I knew he HAD to because I was young and naive and stupid, Saul reassured the patron that it had to have been my mother who taught me that. And right there, on a busy night, in the middle of a busy floor, he had her dragged out, stripped naked, and beaten bloody, almost to death.
That's when I learned to hate humans.
But I was a little girl, a helpless halfling destined to die another unsolved murder in a filthy gutter of Riddleport. Until She found me, huddled, sobbing on the street, freezing and starving after yet another harebrained scheme of Saul's had gone wrong. I just didn't have the thief in me. I was terrible at it. And Saul didn't care, and kept sending me out anyway. I figure he figured if I got killed doing his dirty work, it wouldn't cause him no mind. But She saw something different. Shorafa Pamodae, High Priestess of Calistria and the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. She came to me, sobbing and oblivious in my misery, and asked a stupid question: "Has someone wronged you, child?"
"You're damned right he has!"
I was never the most politic of halflings. Saul always said I had the beauty of an angel, and the mouth and manners of a sailor.
Whatever I said was enuogh for Shorafa. She took me in. Taught me where to hide daggers. Where to stick 'em in a man if he got too fresh. Where to stick 'em to make a man tell you what you needed to know. She tried to teach me more about Calistria, and what she does and all that, but I'm even worse at religion than I am at stealing. But I learned that I'm really, really good at stabbing men. Human men. Unfortunately, by the time I felt I was good enough to take out Saul, some adventurers had done me the favor.
I decided I liked adventurers.
And thus my career began. And every damned adventuring group wants me to be their sneakthief. Because I'm a halfling. And I use daggers. So I've taken to wearing a bright red cape to go with my bright red hair to make it really clear I'm not hiding from anyone, got it? I'm right up there in front, stabbing them. I'm an anomaly. Which is probably why I ended up with THIS lot.
Our party "wizard" is a tengu necromancer named Blackwing, who'd probably be a much better wizard if he spent half as much time studying as he does preening, hiding shiny things, or looking at the "pretty bird" in the mirror.
The brains of our party is Eyra. She's never told me what she is, with her red hair and golden eyes and her "affinity for flame", but she reminds me so much of Shorafa she makes my heart ache to be back in Riddleport again. And that's just crazy talk. But she's got a nose for dusty books, and ancient ruins, and places where things need killin' and treasure needs lootin'. She's the one who's got us halfway across the world (me, at least. I never ask my friends where they come from. The past is painful. For all of us. Just in different ways).
And my favorite party member is irony Davelek, our human male sneakthief! I think I haven't killed him yet for that reason alone! Everyone watches me, waiting to see when I'm going to sneak off and steal something, and they're so busy looking at my big brown eyes and my fiery red hair and my cute little dimples they don't notice Davelek loading our wagon with their entire house of goods. Davelek's just more proof that you have to judge people on who they are, not what they are. Still hate human men, though. Just not Davelek.
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So, your party Wizard didn't watch True Facts about Ducks then...
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So, your party Wizard didn't watch True Facts about Ducks then...
If he does, he's got his browser set in Private mode and clears the history...
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Ah, Red! I'd be your friend! Really creepy, probably, true, but your friend nonetheless!
(Edited that one for a better alias to fit.)
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I can tell, I know I could never make a Tengu again... :-)
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Red's Journal, Preview the 2nd
So, I know what you're thinking: A beautiful young halfing girl from Riddleport who frequented the temple of Calistria there, making it halfway across the world to Wati in Osirion. There must be a tale or two there, right? Romance, adventure, danger, wealth, love, loss, and all that rot?
Well, not so much, no.
Fact is, if you're a halfing and you're not a boot-licker, a bard, or a thief, no one's all that interested in you. Yeah, I spent three years training at the temple of Calistria whenever I could slip away from Saul, but the fact is the halfling patrons that came around sickened me with their spinelessness, sleaziness, or both. I scared the gnomes. They called me "disturbed". And other small races? Well, let's just say, "Yecch!" Have you ever seen a naked goblin? I have. It's not a sight I'll soon forget, much as I wish I could.
So three years at the temple of Calistria, and I left with my virtue intact. That pretty much says all you need to know about it.
The same was true about finding any kind of decent work as a warrior. "You're too small." "You're a woman." "Daggers are no weapon for a warrior." If it hadn't been for a Varisian caravan headed down to Magnimar, I might be in Riddleport still. As it was, they took me on as a "pity hire". They were nice enough, but just like everyone else they thought they could teach me to dance, or sing, or do something other than stab people. I tried for them. And they talked about how pretty I was, and how my cape offset my hair and my eyes so beautifully. And I think my singing scared the frogs, and if I were any heavier I might have broken some of the humans' toes with my "dancing". But they were good-natured about the whole thing, the trip was uneventful, and it got me out of Riddleport.
Magnimar was more of the same. I had enough coin to get by for a couple of weeks, but no one needed or wanted a half-size dagger-wielding "psychotic halfling". I don't know why everyone expects halflings to be all sweetness and good cheer and singing and dancing and whatnot, but break that mold and you're an outcast. Similar to Riddleport, the only reason I got out of Magnimar was that the paranoid captain of the Fortune's Gold figured he could use one more deterrent against pirates, and I was small enough that I wouldn't take up precious cargo space.
Sailing is boring. There. I've said it.
Day after day of endless blue. You're either baking in an unrelenting sun, or trying to keep your morning meal down in a driving rain with winds howling enough to turn you into a makeshift kite. Life was so boring I lost my virtue to the cabin boy. He was so boring I might have left a dagger in his side. Totally by accident, of course, but after that I was untouchable. Though the half-orc boatswain seemed to like me a great deal more after that little incident. Absalom was more of the same. No one wants a halfing warrior. But Absalom gets news, and I learned about great treasure to be had in Osirion, and that the Furrow of Osirion (what a silly name for a leader! Not that I'd ever say that to his face, mind you) was handing out ruins to explore like candy. So, off on a ship to Wati I went.
And it all happened again. Those few who spoke my language asked me where my adventuring party was. When I told them I didn't have one, I got shuttled off to an "independents" section and loaded in with the other warriors. A lot like a slave market, but with a lot more flexing and a lot less weeping. And when you're 2'9" and barely top 30 pounds soaking wet, and the beef-on-legs around you averages six and a half feet wielding weapons that outweigh you, you're hard to get noticed, even in red.
For the second time in my life, a golden-eyed beauty saved me. Maybe I should switch my taste to women. Doesn't seem like it could hurt.
Anyway, I was standing amidst the grunting, the posturing, the flexing, and the sweating. Oh, gods, the sweating! The smell in the "warrior" area was truly one of the foulest stenches I have ever experienced. Had NONE of these men (or women) ever learned to bathe?!?!? I'm sure they were all well and good with their swords, their axes, their hammers, and their... what the heck IS that thing, anyway? But if your enemy can smell you from half a mile off, you're going to have some issues with surprise.
Anyway, Erya came along, sizing up the stock as it were, and the men immediately switched to their "most embarrassing" mode. Every man wanted to be HER protector! She's a beauty, there's no doubt about it. And her spectacles and quiet charm just add to that whole "hot librarian" theme that makes every guy want to follow her to the ends of Golarion. So when she was sizing up one of the hunks of meat, I sighed, figuring that yet again I was going to get no notice. Until she spoke. "So tell me, sir. When we are in a narrow 2' passage in the depths of the ruins, how are you going to swing that thing?"
The warrior was flabbergasted.
She turned her blazing golden eyes on me and smiled. A smile that warmed my soul to the core, and made me want to protect her from anything that might ever harm those eyes, or those spectacles. Yeah, I have a girl crush. What are you going to do? But she looked at me and said, "I have need of a warrior who can fight in narrow spaces."
And that was that. I was Erya's warrior. Suck on that, beef men!
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I have to admit, writing up the journal before everyone's PC is set in stone is all kinds of fun.
Red herself just lost some CON in favor of INT, since she'll eventually want to cast spells, and we need a skill monkey in addition to a fighter. Davelek may be converting to a fighter, much to my relief (a dual-wielding DEX-based ranger doesn't actually start being useful 'til 5th level or so, so I wasn't looking forward to 4 levels of having NO decent melee fighters at all).
But trying to make it all make sense from Red's viewpoint will be... challenging. But fun! :-P
And yeah, at the moment she's at +3/-1 for 1d3+1 and a 19-20 crit range. She's not going to scare anyone at all with those numbers. But the undead we run into will fall to Blackwing's 18 CHA, and should provide the melee support we need for when we're not fighting humans. Once she gets the dual wielding feat (2nd level), Power Attack (3rd level), boosted Power Attack (4th level), and a second favored enemy, she should be wandering around at +5/+5, 1d3+5, 19-20 in general, and +9/+9, 1d3+9 against whatever favored enemy we're seeing the most of. Not bad for a non-buffed halfing.
Considering our Skull&Shackles group is routinely adding +8/+8 to those numbers with buffs, I figure she'll be all right...
...if she can survive to 5th level...
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You need to add on to her profile, I'm still unsure what her class is exactly. :-)
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It's core PRD only (Core Rulebook, Advanced Player's Guide, Ultimate Combat/Magic/Equipment), plus the Mummy's Mask AP stuff.
That and a 15-point build and you're pretty restricted in what you can do.
So she's a straight-up female halfling ranger:
STR 13 (to afford Power Attack because otherwise her damage is nil)
DEX 17 (DEX-based fighting)
CON 10 (Ouch. But couldn't afford it)
INT 12 (Just to get a skill point. And eventually cast)
WIS 10
CHA 10
Depending on Impus Minor, we may up it to a 20-point build just to let us flesh out the characters a bit; I'd love to get her CHA and CON up.
Since she's DEX-based, her level 1 feat was Weapon Finesse, and her favored enemy is obviously humans, since our necromancer should be nuking the brains out of any low-level undead we run into. (Yeah, make a DC 15 Will save or dance to our necromancer's drum, monkey skeleton!)
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Woot! 20-point build! Hoping for +2 CHA, +3 CON (or vice versa), but let's see whether Hero Labs approves of such nonsense...
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Too bad they didn't let you use the Serpent's Skull players guide for the nummy Piranha Strike feat.
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I gotta admit, I thought she was going to be rather pathetic at low levels, but last night (our first "real" session) my dice were on fire, and she was a little stabbing machine. Add great Perception and Disable Device rolls and she shone like a little star.
Sometimes good dice can make up for bad builds...
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If it's one thing I've learned playing this game for on and off for 32 years, is that Halflings are always on fire!
The only characters I've had live to retirement were all Halflings. :-)
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Hobbits doing the Tiberium Candle Dance is always a good time. ;)
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An Auspicious Beginning, Part I
It turns out I was wrong about Davelek; the man's a fighter, not a sneakthief, but you wouldn't know it from looking at him. Nor smelling him. He's a worshipper of Cayden Cailean through and through, and I figure that's enough to excuse my mistake. So when Eyra picked him out of the crowd to join our erstwhile little party, I just figured he was either a sneakthief or a drunkard.
Now I know.
It turns out our "group" wasn't as tight-knit as I'd been thinking. Eyra's a local, sure enough, and an expert on all this "antiquities" stuff that's bound to make us some money, but she didn't know any of us before the "lottery" started. And don't get me started on the whole "lottery" thing! You have so many unexplored tombs that you invite adventuring groups from all over the world to show up and help, then too many show up and you have to hand out the sites by lottery? Bad planning, that. Anyway, it turns out Eyra was interested in getting a look-see at some of the tombs, so she went ahead and put together the pieces of a group on her own. Considering that she chose Blackwing, me, and Davelek, all I'm going to say is that her heart's in the right place, but maybe she's not the great tactician she thinks she is. A hopeless flightless tengu I could beat in an arm-wrestling match, a drunken fighter who'd spent so much on booze he couldn't afford anything better than leather armor, and a 2'9" ranger? Eyra was really scraping the bottom of the barrel, all false modesty aside. But I didn't mind; it was a paying gig, it sounded interesting, and neither Blackwing nor Davelek were too offensive (none of that, "But you're a girl! But you're a halfing girl" from those two), and Eyra. Oh, gods. Eyra and those eyes. Curse the day I was born a half-sized woman so I couldn't woo Eyra just for those burning, soulful eyes.
Eyra's eyes aside, we took our allotted place in the lottery and stood around. Yeah, it was about as exciting as it sounds. As a courtesy, the lady in charge (Sebti the Crocodile, which is a heck of a name. Maybe I should go by "Red the warthog" or something) spoke in both Common and Osiriani, so I could tell what was going on. I was pretty pleased when Eyra told us all we had to come up with a name for the group, and I suggested that we be the "Tomb Raiders", and the whole group accepted that name with some enthusiasm.
.
Anyway, we sat around, bored, and I wondered when Davelek was going to topple over and crush poor Blackwing, but eventually I heard, "Tomb Raiders: The Tomb of Akhentepi". Might as well have been the tomb of Aroden for all I knew, but Eyra seemed to like the decision, and told us that he was some kind of ancient general. This didn't sit well with me: A general's tomb would be full of well-armed guardians guarding human-sized weapons and armor. Nothing likely to be in there for me, but loot is loot, and I'd heard we could sell anything we couldn't use, so maybe I'd loot some of the general's official fooferal and use it to get some nicer daggers. So we got some kind of a map (Eyra's job), and instructions to be respectful of those dead as didn't attack us. Easy enough; if there's no loot to be had you're not going to find me struggling to overturn some six-foot mummified dignitary just for a laugh. I agreed to whatever, because whatever didn't sound all that bad to me, and I figured Eyra would let me know if I was breaking my solemn vows and whatnot.
We turned in to an inn for the evening, and Eyra made us make some more solemn vows not to rob each other and whatnot. Again, I said, "Yes," 'cause it just didn't all sound like anything I was likely to do anyway. Rob a party member, wake up with a knife in your back. Or don't wake up at all. That's the way of Riddleport, and the way of the world. I spent a few of the gold I'd earned in Absalom buying Davelek a couple of gallons of sour wine; I wanted to see how far I could get the fellow to go. Much to my surprise, instead of drinking, he got up on stage and... started telling jokes?!?!? Even more, they were funny! I laughed my tiny little butt off! Yeah, I might have thrown in a few silver, too. He was THAT good. Once he was wrapping up and getting into the wine, I headed upstairs for a BATH!!!!
There is nothing that says, "You're a success!" like a long, hot, luxurious bath. With plenty of oil for your skin and shampoo for your hair. Sitting there, scrubbing off all the weeks of caked-on dirt 'til my skin was bright pink, then brushing, washing, brushing, combing, washing, and brushing my hair again was heavenly. I wrapped up my hair in a towel, oiled myself down with the exotically-scented stuff they'd provided for me (the bath wasn't cheap, so I meant to make the most of it), put on my pajamas, and curled up in the HUUUUUUUGE bed designed to hold a full-sized human (and then some).
Sometimes it's good to be a halfling.
Morning came FAR too soon for my tastes, but there was Eyra all raring to go, Blackwing all studied up with whatever arcane knowledge he kept in that pea brain head of his, and Davelek, surprisingly less hung over than I'd expected. So there was nothing for it but to get up, pretend I was happy to see them this early in the morning, grab my stuff, and head out to explore a tomb.
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An Auspicious Beginning, Part II
The trip to the tomb was uneventful, but the doors themselves were a piece of work: Partially buried in the sand, with signs that someone at some point had used crowbars on them. They were still sealed enough that even I couldn't squeeze in, but that didn't mean they'd always been that way. Was our "treasure" a dud? The only way to find out was to dig our way in. As Davelek and I dug at the door (yeah, make the halfling dig! That'll get the job done fast! But honestly I volunteered for the job, as I didn't think Blackwing could survive holding a shovel for more than 5 minutes without collapsing in the heat, and Eyra had better things to do than dig -- like try to find a better way in), Eyra and Blackwing circumnavigated the building, trying to find any kind of secret entrance that would save us from spending half the day digging in the hot sun. No such luck!
With Davelek's help, I got the doors clear. Yes, saying that amuses me. As did the teensy pile of sand I managed to accumulate with my miniscule shovel as Davelek did the lion's share of the digging (and then some). I was feeling better about buying him all the wine the night before. Next time I'll buy something decent. Maybe he'll notice the difference. If not, I can go back to the cheap stuff.
Anyway, once the sand was clear enough, we tried heaving at the door. Blackwing promptly fell in the crack we managed to open and pinned his head, trapping himself completely. As I disentangled Blackwing and dragged him away, Eyra and Davelek resumed their efforts, and were soon rewarded with the grinding sound of stone on sand that sings, "Treasure!" I lit up one of my torches and handed it to Blackwing to hold up. Amazingly, its weight didn't tip him over. Annoyingly, Davelek took the torch. I almost snapped at him about maybe, just maybe, needing TWO hands to fight whatever was down here, but he also volunteered to go in front of me, so I figured he was going to make up for stupidity with more stupidity, so that was all good with me.
The first room was a beauty... if you like old dust and writing no one in their right mind can read. I'm sure it took Eyra's breath away. Picture-writing all over the walls. A big stone wheel-thingy with a spiral on it (Eyra told us it was Pharasma's symbol) up against one wall. Eyra translated a bunch of it for us, but the part I liked was, "The only thing Pharasma despises more than grave robbers is unsuccessful grave robbers" or some such. At least the builders had a sense of humor! And hey, we were here at the Furrow's request. We weren't robbing... we were just, "Re-appropriating". So after a lot of hemming and hawing, and taking of rubbings, and otherwise killing time, it was time for me and Davelek to move the wheel. Again, we got Blackwing and Eyra to help. Just as the wheel moved, we saw a bit of movement and a bitty white scorpion stung Davelek. Now this was a foe my size! I laid into it with my daggers with great gusto, and was rewarded by getting a sting of my own, plus a claw. Apparently I wasn't as fast on my feet as I thought I was! The sting made me a little dizzy, but I recovered quickly enough, and the wounds weren't bad enough to require magic healing... yet. Davelek hit the little bugger and I stabbed it a couple more times and it died. Grand Adventure in the Tomb of Oxen Teepee. We were all pretty much OK, so we moved on, deeper into the tomb.
The next room was nothing more than a big hole in the middle of the room, like a well, but square. Eyra cast Light on a rock and dropped it down. 60' below, the rock hit bottom. A piton hammered into the side of the shaft showed again that we weren't the first people to explore this tomb. Unfortunately for whoever was at the bottom, the rope had broken or been cut. Fortunately for us, Eyra had new pitons and a good silk rope. Needless to say, I went down first. Weigh less than half the next smallest party member? You're in front, girl!
Much to my irritation, Davelek decided to come after me while I was still on the rope. Didn't his parents ever teach him about taking turns!?!?! So the rope's holding me and Davelek, and Eyra decides she's going to clamber on, too. I respected her faith in her piton, but seriously? I scrambled to the bottom as quickly as I could, having to make a bit of a knot to my own cheap hemp rope to get the bottom 10 feet, but I didn't particularly feel like jumping into the unknown. As I was looking up, Blackwing decided he could fly.
At least that's what it looked like. The silly bird just walked up to the edge of the pit, looked at the rope, reached out, and jumped off. I scurried out of the way to avoid plummeting plumage, but Davelek proved the alcohol hasn't fried his reflexes yet by catching the bird on the fly, as it were, and the rest of the party made it down. The room was more pretty decorations, plus a corpse. I made Davelek poke it with a sword to make sure it wasn't going to pop up at us (when your weapon is 3" long, you learn to make other people do the inquisitive poking). Once we were sure it was dead dead, I looked it over. It was our intrepid would-be grave robber. Pharasma must be pleased. Or displeased. Or whatever. Failed grave robber and all that. But he did have a couple of working pitons, a mallet, and some alchemist's fire, so his death was not in vain. Is robbing dead grave robbers still grave robbing?
The hallway ahead had more murals of Owlbear Teetotaler, so Eyra went first. Or at least she tried to. The moment she set foot in the corridor a wicked-looking dart struck her right in the neck, dropping her in her tracks. I couldn't budge her, but I screamed at Davelek to help and he managed to get her clear. As her life's blood oozed out, she managed somehow to gurgle out a spell, and she was whole again! Just like that! Magic never ceases to amaze me. I asked her whether she was carrying a tool kit, and sure enough, the ever-ready archaeologist had exactly what I needed. I set to work, sliding some shims under the pressure plate so it couldn't go down any more, then jumped up and down on it. Seemed solid enough. At least for me.
We moved on to the next room and found a big faded tapestry showing Oompa and his family. His house sure didn't look like a teepee. There were a couple of dead mummified animals that Blackwing assured us really were dead. Considering he also thought he could fly, I kept a wary eye on them. We moved north and found a room with a full-blown honest-to-Desna chariot in it. Talk about sparing no expense! Someone had to have disassembled this thing, lowered it down the shaft, and reassembled it here! We kept asking Eyra what was valuable and what wasn't, and she kept telling us that nothing we'd found so far was really all that worthwhile. The chariot would be worth around 100 gold, once we'd paid a carpenter to disassemble it and haul it up, but it hardly seemed worth the trouble. We finally found paydirt in the chariot room in the form of a chest. I borrowed Eyra's tools again and made short work of the crude bladed trap they'd left for us. Apparently growing up at Saul's did have its uses. The lock was similarly unable to resist my charms, and we soon had... three potions and a couple of books. Eyra's eyes bugged out when she saw the books! Apparently they were really valuable! Score one for us! We identified the potions as two potions of Cure Light Wounds and one potion of Darkvision. Davelek asked permission to drink one of the healing potions and we said sure, but it hardly healed him at all. You'd figure, after sitting around in this moldy old place for thousands of years!
We moved on to the next room -- some kind of giant model of an ancient city. I have to admit, I might had been admiring it a bit too much, because when the little doll guys climbed down the walls to attack us, I was totally unprepared. And I learned that fighting people even smaller than yourself is just no fun at all. I shot my bow. And missed. And swung my daggers. And missed. And tried again with a single dagger. And missed. Fortunately, while I was busy missing, Davelek was mopping the walls with them, chopping them into kindling or whatever. Remind me not to get on his bad side. If he even has one, the drunk. Even Eyra got in on the act, skewering one with great gusto. As expected, we looked around the room, and found some masterwork human-sized weapons. Ho hum. Davelek claimed a spear for his own. Eyra claimed a shortbow. There was a magic shield of some kind we're going to identify to give to Davelek as well. But were there any SMALL weapons or armor? Did Mr. "Oh, I'm a high and mighty general" ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, one of his grave robbers would be petite in stature? Noooooooooo! Everything in the room was sized for "right-sized" people. I decided I didn't like Amhopaloompa McTeePee, and I was glad he was dead.
Well, the little doll guys are dead. Time to look around...
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And yeah, poor Blackwing.
Impus Major was on a 1-fest last night. First a 1 trying to assist in a strength check (with a -2 penalty, that's a -1. You're hurting us, dude, hurting us)! Next, in a far-more-spectacular roll, his encumbered self (STR dump) rolled another 1 on his DC 10 climb down the rope. With his rather amazing -5 Climb skill, that was good for a -4 on a DC 10 check, missing by more than 10, and leading to an immediate 6d6 plummet to infamous instadeath.
Fortunately, Impus Minor showed his GM chops by having all of us roll Reflex saves to see who was quick enough to catch him, then Strength checks to actually catch him as he whooshed past. Davelek passed both checks and Blackwing will not be appearing in the obits.
Though he should. As "most pathetic first campaign death ever".
"How did your first guy die?"
"Failing a DC 10 check."
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"Failing a DC 10 check by more than 10." That's pretty high up there in the ignominious cause of death rankings ...
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My wife did it at the beginning of Skull and Shackles. :-)
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Halfling: It's not what's for dinner, Part I
Once people had finished picking through the (non-small) weapons, armor, and other junk (an urn full of ancient perfume and lard nard is worth something to someone? Who knew?) Davelek and I packed the rest into our backpacks for later identification and selling. I swear, Blackwing's a good 3 feet taller than me, but if you got him wet he'd probably tip over. And still weigh less than me. I don't know what good he is; he hasn't done much so far other than nearly plummet to his death, but Eyra has faith in him, and he says he's really good against undead, so I guess time will tell. Until then, he's pretty much dead weight. The poor bird can barely carry a torch. On the bright side, he's not obnoxious. We had thugs on our little sorties in Riddleport who seemed bound and determined to cause trouble where none was needed, and they always made our lives harder. Blackwing doesn't do much other than fall down shafts, but at least he's quiet about it, and doesn't pick fights where they aren't necessary. (Which is exactly nowhere in this tomb, as far as I can tell.) The only really interesting stuff we found was some old ledgers and stuff from back in whats-his-name's time. Eyra LOVED that stuff, and scanned it thoroughly before re-wrapping it as if it were antique calfskin gloves and putting it all back ever-so-lovingly into its cases. To each her own. It's obvious where Eyra's passions lie, that's for sure..
Speaking of Eyra, she declared herself pretty tapped out from our "adventure" so far, so she wanted to head back up, sell what we'd found, re-equip, and come back on the morrow. Considering I was still sporting the wound from the scorpion thing, and Eyra hadn't offered to heal it yet, I figured either she didn't like me much, or she really was pretty tired. Since I'm so utterly charming, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and I agreed that we should head up. Neither Blackwing nor Davelek had any objections, so up the rope we went... sort of. Eyra and I had to climb up first, then Davelek tied the rope around Blackwing and Eyra and I hauled him up. Turns out Eyra's a lot stronger than she looks. The woman is full of surprises! Davelek clumbered (yeah, "clumbered", because there was nothing graceful about it) up afterwards, and we went back to town.
There is nothing quite as wonderful as finding a townful of grateful residents happy to take antiquities off your hands for cold, hard cash, with the exception of finding a townful of grateful residents happy to take antiquities off your hands for cold, hard cash, and having a party of companions willing to acquiesce to your every whim. We sold everything we didn't think we could use and ended up with upwards of TWO THOUSAND gold pieces burning a hole in our pocket. Being a sensible lass, I suggested we purchase a wand of Cure Light Wounds for our erstwhile archaeologist before splitting the rest of the monies. The party agreed immediately. Seeing that they were in an agreeable mood, I suggested that we also needed a suite at the inn with hot baths for all, a banquet, massages, and plenty of teacakes for secondses. Eyra responded that I was indeed true to my halfling roots, and agreed immediately. Even Davelek piped up that he loved massages. Thus, it was decided, and with a few words to the owner about proper treatment of well-heeled guests, we were feted, wined, dined, rubbed down, massaged, and bathed. And if I hadn't mentioned my girl-crush on Eyra before, the bath was a real eye-opener. The woman is perfect in every way. In every striking, distinguishing detail. I don't know whether to hate her from sheer jealously or make love to her from sheer animal lust. But wow. Just... wow. I have to order us more baths! I just have to remember to avoid actually getting into the bath with her. As far as I could tell, the water she slipped into was still boiling, or nearly there.
Between ordering the wonderful baths and receiving them, we had some shopping to do. Davelek got himself a nice-looking masterwork rapier. Eyra got the shortbow she found repaired, got herself an off-the-rack rapier, got a magic scroll, and otherwise did archaeologist stuff I didn't understand. I personally tracked down a high-end leatherworker and got myself fitted for some beautiful, form-fitting masterwork studded leather in a deep brown with crimson highlights. Maybe no one will ever mistake me for Eyra, but I have enough to flaunt, and flaunt it I shall, thank you very much! None of us know what Blackwing did. He told us he spent 5 copper pieces on a dozen eggs and took a bath in them, then hid the rest of his "shinies" in a safe place. With nonhumans, I figure it's always best not to ask.
We slept well for the evening (and thank you very much, I controlled my unwomanly impulses towards Eyra). In the morning, our well-rested, sweet-smelling, re-armed and re-invigorated party headed back to the tomb...
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Halfling: It's not what's for dinner, Part II
Fortunately, our second trip down the "well" was a LOT less exciting than the first. I went down ahead and took cover, in case there was anything waiting for us. There wasn't. Eyra and Davelek lowered Blackwing down, then climbed down themselves. One of these days we either have to get Davelek a Ring of Climbing, or we need to get that man some training. At least we can rely on Blackwing to plummet. With Davelek, you never know what you're going to get.
The first new room we got to was rather annoying; it held a massive mirror, flanked by a couple of statues of gods Eyra didn't immediately recognize. As Eyra stared at the mirror, she started rubbing her forehead, as if she was beginning to get a headache. Blackwing, Davelek, and I looked into the mirror, and saw Octopeppy himself, glaring at us disapprovingly. Well, enough of this nonsense. I pulled out my bow and shot the mirror, shattering it, and breaking whatever hold it had on the rest of the party. "Well, that was rather destructive," Eyra commented. Meh. Magic mirrors. They're always bad in the end. Better to shoot 'em early before they cause any trouble. Looking more carefully at the room, there were more tracks in the dust. Great. More company. I couldn't figure out which way the tracks went, so we figured we'd stick with Eyra's plan of going to the shortest dead ends first and turned left. It was a big room with a bunch of jackal heads and an altar that screamed, "Trap!", but I didn't see anything obvious so I decided to head in. I was almost immediately attacked by some weird spider creatures (Eyra called them "Solifugids", but bigger than they were supposed to be), and they hit something vital, as my eyes started going dark and I started wobbling on my feet. Only my training kept me going. "Eyes forward. Trust your healer." I called out to Eyra for aid, stabbed the one in front of me pretty well, and a glowing greenish glob of fluid flew over my head, hit it squarely in the body, and it collapsed, writhing in pain. Blackwing had done something!!!! As Eyra healed me and I finished off the beast, Blackwing explained that he'd changed his prepared spells for the day, and could now help. Thank the goddess for small miracles! I was turning to help Davelek when his rapier went in one side of the thing in front of him and way, way, waaaaaay out the other. Apparently Davelek's new sword was pretty sharp. Nice!
We finished healing up (thanks to the wand *I* suggested we buy!) and searched for valuables. I say we found nothing. Eyra figured out that the female goddess being depicted was Pharasma. OK. Great. Doesn't do us a lot of good in fighting bugs, but she was happy, and heck if I'm going to dump on someone else's mood. Makes her happy? It's all good.
Going back the other way, we saw a staircase that sceamed "trap" 10 ways from Sunday. Half-buried stairs? Check! Holes in the wall? Check! Signs of burrowing creatures? Check! We all moved our flasks of alchemist's fire to easy reach, then I tried to demonstrate how not to disable a trap by slipping on the stairs, tumbling down the stairs, and sitting there in an embarrassed heap as the sand itself rose up to attack Davelek, who had miraculously managed to stay ahead of me the whole time. (Maybe it was that I'd fallen all of 2 steps. But hey, for a halfling, that's a long fall!) I have to admit, the whole, "I'm made of sand, you can't hurt me!" thing kind of scared me, 'til I hit it and it obviously showed signs of being hurt, and Eyra told us to just keep hitting it. It didn't last long; Davelek and I are turning into a really good team, and even Eyra got into the act with her crossbow, dropping it right after Davelek gave it a particularly nasty blow with his rapier. Good on her! Having both Blackwing and Eyra contributing to our fights was raising my spirits immensely; the fact that they both now had kills under their belts raised my confidence in them. Sometimes, it's good to be an optimist!
The next room was pretty boring, except for a really pretty tapestry depicting souls of the dead entering a river and moving towards a giant spire. If I had a proper room of my own, I'd have kept it. As it was, I was extra careful with it as we folded it up and added it to our loot sack. Both doors out of the room were locked, and Eyra wanted me to open the western one, so I did. It popped so fast that Eyra quipped, "Wow! Must have been just like the lock on your boyfriend's bedroom!" I wish! The barb hurt a little more than it should have, both because of my lack of experience in that particular area, and because of my unnatural attraction to Eyra. No worries. She'd find scarab beetles in her bedroll soon enough! Payback's a chore, but a fun one!
We got into some kind of unfinished room, and Eyra explained that it had been intended for Akkiakkiakki's mistress, but he'd died too soon, so it didn't get built. Hey, at least he had a mistress! Eyra knew from the writings that there was a secret door, so we quickly found it, got it open and headed up an unfinished passage. The mistress' secret way to her lover. How romantic! Halfway through the corridor, the way was blocked by a couple of big beetles. I'm talking, "Big enough I might be able to ride one" beetles. But Davelek just pushed past them and they didn't mind, so Eyra gave them some of her rations, and while they were busy noshing on those Blackwing and I moved by. Eyra told us they were "mining beetles". Well, if I couldn't ride 'em and they didn't want to fight us, they could be called whatever they wanted to be called.
The exit was... underwhelming. So, Akiakiakiptang's mistress was supposed to slip into something slinky and scandalous, tiptoe through a dirt passage past some big darned beetles, then come into... a junction? Fortunately, Eyra had a map, and we moved on into a room full of Akpoh's "stuff for the afterlife". I have to say, the guy was just not a party animal. Food, clothing, more nard (what the heck is it with "nard"!?!?!?), a couple of holy symbols of Pharasma, and some silversheen and weapons? What about alcohol? Party games? Scandalous outfits? The man knew NOTHING about having a good time in the afterlife! Especially after taking all the trouble to take his mistress along. What about some manacles? A horse whip? A gag? Some leather chaps? Hmmm... maybe my upbringing in a temple of Calistria is showing...
So we took what was worth taking (I pocketed the silversheen, figuring it might come in handy), found the secret door Eyra knew was there (seriously, dude! If you're going to build a "secret tomb", make sure the map to it doesn't end up in the historical archives!), headed down the passage, and had Blackwing cast Open on the door at the end. (Blackwing's other newly-revealed talent: The ability to open doors and chests at a distance. For which I would have kissed him. If he didn't have a beak. And bathe in his unborn brethren.) Unfortunately, that popped off a trap that summoned a swarm of cockroaches to attack us. Me, I have to agree with Eyra: If your protectors feel that you merit nothing more than a swarm of cockroaches, then maybe, just maybe, you're not as important as you thought you were.
So, all of us had been taught to deal with swarms at some point or another. All of us with the obvious exception of Davelek. As the rest of us were running away, preparing our alchemist's fire for just such an emergency, Davelek stood fast, sword raised, ready to defend us from this vile attacker. Yeah, I'd thought he was of average intelligence, so this move was... interesting. Eyra had no choice. She filled the passage with fire from her Burning Hands spell. Davelek smoldered. The roaches swarmed over him. Davelek bled. Blackwing and I were ready with our flasks by the time Eyra healed Davelek and he finally got a clue and ran away. The roaches burned beautifully. I particularly liked that they kept crawling towards us, determined to get us to their last, but the alchemist's fire and Eyra's spell did their work, and the bugs died before reaching the rest of us. A few more bit Davelek, but Eyra got him all healed up. With the wand. That *I* told everyone she needed to have. Not that I'm smug about it or anything.
There were chests in the room so I headed in, ready to unlock their riches. Some cobra jumped out at me determined to cause mischief, but even though I couldn't hit it to save my life (stupid snakes and their slithery movements), Davelek tore into it, and Eyra's bolts and Blackwing's acid were more accurate than I was, so the snake fell without having bitten anyone, and without a scratch from me on it. We looted the chests (some magic padded armor, gold, and jewels), and, after some discussion as to whether we were allowed to do it, scraped the gold off the sarcophagus. Whoever was inside we left alone. I'm not much one for rules, but when they give you thousands in free gold with the one instruction, "Don't mess with the dead", it's better not to mess with the dead.
Our final stop was the big central chamber on Eyra's map. We decided to come in through the mistress' entrance, since that was the least likely to be trapped, and I didn't see a trap. Unfortunately, it was a halfling's worst nightmare: Once Davelek and I stepped into the room, a pressure plate sealed the door behind us to cut us off from our healer and our necromancer, the room started filling with cold, brackish water (I love baths, but I hate swimming in cold water), and the sarcophagus on the huge platform in the center of the room jumped up and decided to start attacking us. Yep. I was confused, too. But I was too busy worrying about the water to worry about the sarcophagus. So it waddled its way down one staircase, and I took advantage of its slowness to put an arrow in it and move towards the other staircase while Davelek worked on smashing down the door. As I kept putting arrows in it, Davelek announced that he couldn't do anything about the door from this side, and started doing something that I didn't quite understand. Climbing the side of the center platform? A weird human dance? Whatever it was, it was pretty much down to me and the coffin. And my arrows didn't seem to be doing much to it.
Once I was safely out of the rising water, I tried to throw a tanglefoot bag at the approaching thingy, but my throw went wide (I wonder why? Considering I was fighting a giant animated coffin while my spellcasters were trapped outside and my lone ally was trying his best to drown in two feet of water) and it came forward to attack me.
For a good 20 seconds, I thought I had a chance. I was taking small chunks out of the thing with my daggers, its clumsy attacks were easy to dodge, and Davelek finally decided to stop playing around and help. Unfortunately, I finally dodged left when it bit left (yes, it had teeth!), and it picked me up in its mouth. Visions of my life passed before my eyes as I realized I had no healer, no hope of killing it, and the coffin opened to swallow me whole. As my last act, I could try to escape, squirming like a cowardly halfling, or I could go down fighting like the warrior I was. I stabbed the d**n thing. Didn't do a lick of good. The last thing I saw was the door through which Eyra and Blackwing were trapped open, and Davelek's desperate cry of, "Let her go!"
Blackness. Utter, overwhelming blackness. And quiet. But plenty of space. And room to swing my daggers. I knew that at any moment steel blades were going to pierce my body and it would be my last act on Golarion, but d**ned if I was going to go down sobbing, or flinching, or worrying about what might have been. I hacked away at that creature from the inside, watching the sparks my daggers generated as I slid them across its rocky hide. Then, the sizzle of acid. The thunk of a well-shot crossbow bolt. Davelek's rapier nearly stabbing me as it created a pinhole of light in my coffin. My friends! My companions! They brought the creature low! Before it could do whatever horror it had planned for me, they brought it low! As Davelek lifted the lid, I nearly leapt up and kissed him full on the lips! But it was Davelek, and he was human, and it would be... awkward. So I held back. And held in my joy, tears in my eyes, as my friends helped me out of my coffin.
As we explored the rest of the tomb, and knew we had fully explored it, and knew our mission was over, I knew one thing: I had finally found the companions I needed to be with.
Tonight, there would be baths!
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And for those of you wondering where I got the inspiration for this character, how could you look at this print and NOT make a dual dagger-wielding halfling ranger with a wolf animal companion? How couldn't you?
Hah! I think your avatar picture is pretty solid... but that's cool, too!
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Interlude
We clambered victorious out of Akhi-whatever's tomb, not even losing Blackwing to some freak accident, and headed back into town. We reported to the powers-that-be that we were done exploring the tomb (well, Eyra reported, because she's familiar with all this stuff. Plus, she's beautiful, charming, and knows the local language and customs, so yeah, 'best fit' and all that). The powers-that-be expressed surprise and amazement: Were we really done in only 2 days? They had set aside a month for each group to finish exploring its assigned tomb. As Blackwing translated the conversation for me, I first felt chagrin: Had we missed something? I thought back on Eyra's map and our careful explorations, plus the documents we found in the tomb itself, and I was sure that no, we HAD explored the entire tomb. Then I felt ripped off: Why had we been given such a puny tomb? Finally, I thought back on the spider things that had nearly decorated their nests with my entrails, Blackwing's near-death experience with the well, and (shudder) my entombment in the living sarcophagus, and I realized we'd gotten off easy: Our tomb was rich (I already had more money than I'd seen in my lifetime, and we hadn't even sold our second haul yet), it was small, and we were all alive.
Sometimes, you just have to be thankful for the good things, rather than dwelling on what might have been.
So as Eyra signed off on whatever forms or whatnot we were supposed to finish, I checked my "pocket change". Did I mention we were rich? I had more "pocket change" than one of Saul's best pickpockets could earn in a month, so I decided another night of feasting, massages, desserts, and baths were in order. And tonight, it was all on me, in gratitude to the party for getting me out of my black death trap! I knew I'd have nightmares of that black space. If they were too bad I'd track down Eyra and cuddle up with her. One of the benefits of being a halfling: No one minds holding you when you need to be held.
Plans for partying and how to spend a fear-filled night aside, I'm no fool: If Wati was anything like Riddleport (and looking around town, I suspected it was), word of our early success and relative wealth would get to the wrong ears in short order, and we'd have to keep our eyes open for trouble: Pickpockets, cutpurses, gangs of thugs, and worse. I made sure not to let Eyra out of my sight, and kept both my eyes and ears open. Davelek had proven to me that he could more than hold his own in a fight. Blackwing was such an oddity that I doubted anyone sane would target him. But Eyra, with her otherworldly beauty and nose always in a book was a prime target, as was I due to my size. They'd learn I had pointy bits soon enough...
The evening passed... spectacularly! Plenty of good food, fine ale, many teacakes, a wonderful oil massage from a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman with strong hands who didn't speak a word of Common, and baths, baths for no reason other than the luxury of a fine bath! I curled up in my gargantuan bed, sure of the nightmares to come, ready to appeal to Eyra for a need to be held...
...and I woke up the next morning, fresh as a daisy, and ready to take on the world!
I was rather delighted when I was interrupted in the middle of first breakfast when Eyra tapped lightly on my door, and asked me whether I'd like to 'accompany her shopping' or some other hoi polloi term that basically meant, "Watch out for me while I do silly things with old stuff."
I agreed immediately, got my armor on and arranged, and we set off.
It was soon quite obvious that Eyra's vision of 'shopping' and mine were canonically different. We sold the antiquities we'd looted from Afdajkeaoa's tomb for quite a tidy sum. I considered it, "Loot". She considered it, "A bounty for recovering priceless antiquities on behalf of the Ossirian government." To each her own. Cash is cash. We set aside Blackwing and Davelek's shares and went to town.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm as much of a 'girly girl' as the next woman when I have cash in my pocket. Perfumes, baubles, manicures, and pedicures attract me just as much as a finely-sharpened brace of daggers. But Eyra's approach to shopping was... different.
At EVERY stall. And yes, I really mean at EVERY stall, she had to stop and look at everything. And discuss the object's (dubious) history with the shopkeep. And turn the item over again and again in her hands, furrowing her oh-so-perfect brow as she pondered whether or not the item was genuine. And then chat with the shopkeep some more. It would have been immensely tedious if I hadn't taken to asking about each item. "So, which Furrow was in charge when that was made? What was he like? Did he have any lovers? What were they like?"
Eyra was a font of information, and loved to wax about the history of every Furrow who'd ever ruled Osirion, and his foibles, and his failings, and his achievements. And honestly, I actually found a little of it interesting, so I dealt with having to stop at every single stall in the ENTIRE BAZAAR. It didn't help that most of the shopkeeps spoke nothing but Ossirian, so Eyra had to translate for me on top of everything else.
On the bright side, I knew exactly what I needed, and Eyra's random pattern of shopping took us everywhere I could have wished for. I replaced my shoddy, well-worn backpack with one far better-suited to one my size, and everything in it felt lighter due to a set of clever straps that the shopkeep showed me how to adjust. I replaced my cheap hemp rope with a silken one to match Eyra's, and went so far as to get a set of FIVE flasks of alchemist's fire and another tanglefoot bag. There's no such thing as being overprepared, as it were. While Eyra was safely distracted at yet another stall full of "antiquities", I crept off and got her a nice set of masterwork thieves' tools to make up for the ones I was always borrowing. I'm afraid the exchange didn't go off quite as well as I'd hoped.
"Eyra, I know I've been borrowing your tools all the time, so I thought I should make up for it, and I got you these."
"Oh, Red. These are quite delightful!"
"So, if you don't mind, I'd like to keep your old set, if that's OK."
"That would be just fine. But they're human-sized. Are you sure you'll be able to work with them?"
"Oh, I have deft hands. You'd be amazed at what I can do with them..."
I trailed off, blushing furiously, wondering how I'd managed to wander into that particular trap. Fortunately, Eyra was still oblivious, admiring her new tools.
Our final two stops were on my behalf: We stopped by the weaponsmith. Sure enough, he had a brace of utterly beautiful mithral daggers with red-and-black hilts that I just HAD to own. When I asked him whether he had a changing room, he just stared at me blankly. I swear, sometimes people just don't understand what their items are used for. So there, right in the middle of the store, I shucked off my top and started rearranging my wares. Daggers on the calves. Daggers up the sleeves. Mithral daggers in my hip sheathes. Where was the fourth set to go? I finally decided on a pair of sheathes against my back, near the small of my back, but it took a bit of adjustment to get them to the point that I could comfortably sit in a chair and not let on that I had daggers back there. You can never have too many daggers. Not that the weaponsmith understood that, of course. But I finally got everything arranged, re-dressed, and we were on our way.
I finally suggested that we get pedicures, just because we had cash lying around and it would be nice. Eyra didn't understand the idea at all. "Why should we have our feet decorated, when we are always wearing boots?"
"Because it feels good and looks nice."
"But... our feet are always hidden."
Ah, well. Some day I'll teach her the benefits of a proper pedicure. Until then, it looks like we're all dressed up with nowhere to go! I guess we should go find out what Blackwing and Davelek have been up to, then decide what we're going to do for the next three weeks while the other groups finish up...
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Bathe like it's 4729? ;)
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Bathe like it's 4729? ;)
Woo hoo! Welcome to another of my very silly first-person journal threads! We'll see whether this one gets out of Book 2...
EDIT: Though I'm rather sad I managed to omit one of my favorite lines. Eyra asked Red, "Another feast? I'm sure you're trying to make me quite pudgy."
To which Red replied, "Nah. Just keep on up your dagger work. I mean me? You see how I eat? At one point I broke 30 pounds, and I just upped my exercise and got myself down again..."
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Tomb robbing ... er, artifact reclamation ... is sweaty work. It's not like those places are air-conditioned! ;)
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Tomb robbing ... er, artifact reclamation ... is sweaty work. It's not like those places are air-conditioned! ;)
Hey, they're underground. So it's cool (literally)! :-P
I just feel bad for Impus Major. After all the weird builds he's done (Malek, Arkwhal the defense-based fighter who ended up useless because he could neither hit nor do damage, so everything went around him, etc.), he finally did a build that looked great for a "mummy" campaign: A CHA- and INT-focused necromancer with some really nasty undead control and destruction.
And we've faced... 0 undead so far this campaign!
Of course, Red has humans as her favored enemy, and we've faced exactly 0 of those as well.
But I figure we're going to run into some rival tomb robbers archaeologists at some point, plus the guys who are trying to raise the mummies, and so forth, so she'll get to stabby stabby some favored enemies eventually.
I was just having a blast last night roleplaying out Red's mercenary practicality ("OK. We pulled this out for you. How much are you going to give us for it?") versus Eyra's far more optimistic, "I say, we've recovered this fine artifact for your museum! I'm sure it will look splendid! Just splendid! Now, I assume there's a bounty on that?"
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Don't worry, you'll see plenty of Undead.
Yay! Tonight Red gets to make her level 2 debut! I know that at some point a halfling dual-wielding daggers is going to start suffering a teensy bit in the DPR Olympics, but it's a theme build.
Which is why I'm doing to destroy her even further by taking her 3rd level in rogue so that I can get Acrobatics, Bluff, and Sleight of Hand as class skills.
And yes, a level of Bard would give me to same 3 skills, PLUS some 1st-level spells and performances, so it would be *MUCH* better build-wise.
But I'm stubborn, and I'm building to a theme...
Between this and your continuous use of thieves' tools for business... I'm pretty sure that theme is, "all Halflings are thieves, after all!" (much to Red's irritation, I'm sure).
Stubborn you may be, but is there a way to nab those skills sans dipping? I can't imagine how, exactly, but I figured I'd ask - either by traits (with the "two more traits" feat, or whatever it's called) or something else?
Also: if your theme is non-magical, what are you doing about later ranger stuff? Do you have an archetype or are you just ignoring it due to low whatever's or is there something else?
If it's just vague "flashy warrior over casting", I might recommend a couple of alt possibilities: either archeologist bard of you want to avoid the performances and focus on being lucky, or swashbuckler for similar. If you really wanted sneak attack, there's also slayer (though, uh, I don't remember if a slayer has those three skills - check first).
That said... based off the way you introduced her, I'm surprised that you're purposefully avoiding bard - and I do, actually, mean that from a thematic point of view. Given that she's supposed to be attention-grabbing and wear's a red cape, and one of her early concepts was having everyone look at her while others do the sneak-thief-in', seems very much in-line with bardic stuff. I suppose the lore is a bit iffy... hm, I wonder if there's a way to trader that out. Do arcane dualists lose lore?
None of this in particular is meant to try to tell you, "Don't choose rogue; you're doin' it wrong." but rather to point out the possibilities of things you may or may not have considered. Enjoying hearing your game!
Probably uninteresting to you, buuuu~uuut...
Arcane Duelist does, in fact, sacrifice the bardic knowledge for its own special thing and loses countersong for its special, too (leaving distraction - appropriate for Red, I'd say - and the basic inspire). Plus with Arrowsong's Lament, you can get rid of those "real" pesky first level spells and be more rogue-like in that you're a scroll-caster. This sort of thing seems right up Red's ally, too, given her tendency to wax eloquent about the fallacies of tallfolk, the inability of folks to see that she's a fighter-not-a-sneak thief, and so on. And she's be getting more interested in those old written works due to wanting to hang with Eyra (and she'd've had exposure to such during her time in Riddlelort, also the home of Cypher Mages).
Also pretty sure she'd want dance of kindled desires (or, at least, she'd think she wants it, since it doesn't quiet do what it sounds like, even though it does exactly what it says), but alas, it would forever be beyond her reach.
But that's mostly just me looking up stuff based off of my previous unknowns - again, not punching this, but answering potential questions or objections that may come up. :D
Looked it up, but Slayer doesn't have Sleight of Hand - so that's out.
Also, have you considered ninja? She has the charisma (I think?) to pull it off, by getting ninja tricks, if she ever pushes that far into it; she also has the Riddleport background, so poison makes sense for her. She lacks trap indie, but it seems you have that already?
Anyway, as far as rogue, but the Acrobat and Carnivalist may have things you like - I'd look at them!
... or just go vanilla rogue and enjoy! :D
(As an aside, it just occurs to me: if you don't mind spells, a level of inquisitor actually makes a lot of sense - she may well receive her first "perk" from being a trained Calistrian many years later; that said, if you don't have the wisdom for even first level spells, you mouth not want to. It was just a last-minute thought!)
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Oh, you *had* to do it in three separate posts, didn't you? :-P
Anyway, we're at level 2 now, and Red really needs Power Attack as her level 3 feat, so it's either "wait for level 5 and take the Additional Traits feat as a ranger" or "dip to ninja, get an extra +1d6 damage, and delay getting your wolf".
My mood changes on a weekly basis, but I've got time to ponder it. I'll probably do some mapping in Hero Labs to figure out what I'll finally do.
All fair enough!
But look: doing it in three posts broke up WoT, right? Riiiiiiiiiiigggghhht? :D
Also, I wasn't trying to push any one thing. I was just spitballing ideas as they came up to help where I could.
A question worth pondering: do undead and animated objects suffer from sneak attack? I know that it's changed from 3.5 - also, non-spoiler-spoiler, there are creatures in the bestiaries in the back (which are irrelevant - bestiaries in the APs sometimes appear and sometimes don't in the AP they're created within) that are elementals. As I'm still overlooking the adventure and AP, I can't say for sure how much all of this relevant, but it seems like undead, animated objects, and elementals seem to be solidly "on theme" for Osirian adventures (what with the Ruby Prince being so intimately tied to the elemental courts and all).
Again, not trying to make you avoid a choice, but trying to point out good methods of achieving goals, if those are what you're looking for. If you want, spoiler free, if I can look into it, I'll mention how many foes in an AP can be SA'd. Can't promise I'll be able to, but... I can try!
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One of the things I learned early on in PF is that *almost* everything takes Sneak Attack damage and criticals, which is kind of silly IMO, but considering how badly the monk and rogue got nerfed for PF, throwing them a bone is the least the devs could do:
CAN BE SNEAK ATTACKED:
CANNOT BE SNEAK ATTACKED:
So yep, the sneak attack damage will usually apply.
I'm strongly leaning towards 2 levels of ninja: That assortment of ki tricks is AWESOME, *and* I can take a bonus combat feat.
So 2-level dip = 3 skills as class skills, +1d6 damage, bonus combat feat (or that +20 to Acrobatics looks amazeballs), ki pool = +1 attack/round for 2-3 rounds (she's CHA 13, but will eventually hit 14, of course).
Not bad at all...
Nice! I helped! I like the idea of her pseudo-"flurry-of-stabs" as it were. Sounds hilariously lethal in the right wrong circumstances! I suspect your loss of +1 atk will be more than made up for in your over-all extra attack + limited use attack bonus (and if your teamwork is consistent, flanking, too).
Also, I wanted to mention: while your group has its own thing (which is awesome), the main reason I mentioned hard variants is that I wasn't perfectly sure what Eyra was, so, I threw those things in; also, personally, I'd consider an 1st level arcane duelist without actual first level spells to be over-the-top different enough from most any other bard - but especially a third level archeologist - that it couldn't really be seen as an overlap (and off the top of my head, I actually can't think of anything the two have in common, except maybe a flare for performance).
But in any group, play styles, expectations, and preferences differ, so I entirely understand why two "bard" characters (even lacking overlapping class features) could be seen that way. :)
Do you know if elementals can be SA'd?
I'm really liking your over-all group dynamic, and am interested in your further adventures!
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(1) Elementals are not subject to criticals nor sneak attacks.
(2) One of the things I *love* about Hero Labs is "What if" scenarios. I'm going to run Ranger 16 vs. Ranger 14/Ninja 2 and see what the tradeoffs are. Once I know, I'll let you know where I'm headed.
Anyway, hopefully Red'll be written up tonight. But as usual, she has a LOT to say, so it'll probably be 2-3 writeups.
Fun writing in the first person, but LENGTHY...
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A New Assignment
While I often speak disparagingly of halflings' cowardice, obsequiousness, and general attitude of "step all over me, please!", there are some halfling "traditions" that I cannot understand anyone doing without. The idea that the "biglings" only eat THREE meals a day has always baffled me. I set out to relieve my fellows of this ridiculous habit, introducing them to first breakfast, second breakfast, brunch, lunch, afternoon cakes, dinner, supper, and evening cakes. They didn't even make it a day. How can they be so BIG while eating so LITTLE? Nevertheless, the party had saved my life, and I set out to show them how much I appreciated it, spending my gold profusely on fine rooms, fine dining, baths, and masseuses. As one of my priestesses once said, "You cannot know how to die if you don't know how to live."
During our sojourn, Eyra did some research into the god she hadn't recognized, and it turned out it was "Anubis", lord of the underworld. Kind of made sense to me, and I was happy she was continuing her unending research. You never know when some obscure factoid is going to come back and save your life.
As we spent our days in the lap of luxury, funded by me, though I knew full well my party members both appreciated it and considered it unnecessary, we learned more about our erstwhile "rivals", though "co-delvers" would be a better term:
I like to think I did it for Eyra. But I just didn't feel like stabbing Falto... yet...
"Isn't that just like a halfling! Hide behind your dogs and let them die for you and then take the credit over their corpses, then harass some innocent because you think you can. Cowards!"
"What? Who? Who do you think you are!?!?!? I LOVED those dogs! And I was right there in the fight with them!"
He stormed towards me, standing toe-to-toe and only a few inches away. Unfortunately, the humans in the room couldn't take such a halfling face-down seriously. But I was deadly serious.
"Oh, yeah? Where are your scars? Were you there in the front lines with them, going toe-to-toe with the cube, or were you cowering in the back while your dogs died for you?"
"I, er... what about you?!?!?!?"
In a moment I will treasure forever, I pulled up my shirt and armor, exposing the scars of the massive wound the solifugid had given me (and a bit more). "There! There's MY scar! I EARNED it! Fighting in the front lines! Where I belong! Where's YOUR scar, Mad Dog? Where's YOURS?!?!?!"
Mad Dog had no answer. His shoulders deflated, he turned his back on me (bad move!), and shuffled away, silently. His "men" left with them, leaving Blackwing at peace.
I returned to the table with Eyra, Davelek, and Blackwing. "Sorry. I think I just might have ensured they don't like us very much."
Eyra smiled warmly. "Oh, that's perfectly all right, dear. I don't think it went all that badly."
Eyra's a dear. And an excellent liar. I almost believed she believed what she'd just said.
I was even more amused when one of them let out a whoop and started drinking the ale I'd bought him, and his leader smacked him on the back of the head for lack of decorum. My kind of group, indeed.
The next two weeks passed rather blissfully. I was well-fed, well-equipped, had a hot bath and a shampoo every night, and got to travel about town with Eyra as she asked all kinds of questions I didn't understand. Davelek sometimes accompanied us, and sometimes went off on his own. Blackwing spent most of his time locked in his room, feverishly copying spells from scrolls he'd bought into his spellbook, or creating magical scrolls from said spellbook for later use. I swear, that bird is going to end up with a cramped wing the way he writes!
Finally, we were summoned once again to appear before the crocodile lady. This time was different from the last; we showed up alone, and she just assigned us the "House of Pentheru" and gave Eyra the map. Seemed rather odd, but considering our last mission had made us rich, I saw no reason to mistrust the lady.
We got all our gear ready and headed over to the house. Eyra rather tactfully pointed out that, since we had met several other groups, some of whom were not satisfied either with their lots or with us (thankfully she made no mention of halflings with dogs), it might behoove us to scout the perimeter of the establishment before going in. I volunteered to sneak around the perimeter to check for other parties. Eyra raised an eyebrow. "Is it wise for you to go alone, or should we all go together?"
There are things that I hate to admit, but damned if I'm going to let my own personal pride and hangups endanger the group. And one of those things is that halflings really are better sneaks than humans. We just are. There's no competition. Eyra was graceful enough she might be able to pull it off, but the notion of Davelek, or, Calistria save me, Blackwing trying to sneak around an old ruin was enough to give me shudders. Eyra didn't like it. She made me promise over and over again that I wouldn't try to fight anything, and I'd yell if I encountered anything, and she finally let me go. I suspect it had more to do with my reticence than her believing it was a good idea.
The trip was... odd. I didn't see any signs of other parties. I didn't see any signs of danger. But as I walked along one wall, I heard the sounds of an angry mob yelling and wailing inside the walls. If a group was ahead of us, they'd brought a lot of friends. A lot of angry, unhappy friends.
I reported my findings to the group, and we decided to head in the front gate anyway. Mobs are easy to spot and almost as easy to flee (as long as they're in one place), so we were pretty confident we could get away from them if they showed up.
The front gate was boring enough; a couple of statues flanking a gate that said, "House of Pentheru", according to Eyra. As we entered, I once again heard the sounds of the approaching mob. Since I couldn't see anything, we waited... and the gates started shaking, and a woman's voice cried out in ancient Osiriani (Eyra later translated for me that she'd been screaming about holding the gates against some kind of attack). As the rattles subsided, my eyes grew wide. "This is the coolest. House. EVER!!!!"
The others were not as impressed.
We decided to save the house for last, and explore the grounds first. Heading clockwise, we entered what might once have been a garden, but what was now sand. As we walked across the garden towards a dried-out pool, a HUGE centipede emerged from the pool and attacked us. And I really DO mean HUGE. This thing was at least twenty feet long! As usual, Davelek and I engaged it as Blackwing tossed acid blobs and Eyra fired her crossbow. As I sidled around for a flank, the unthinkable happened: The centipede, finally getting its bearings after realizing that we were no ordinary prey, bit Davelek. Hard. And Davelek ran away! That's right! Our big, bad, armor-clad fighter of Cayden Cailean ran away, leaving little ol' me (at all of 2'9") facing a 20-foot centipede! I don't play the helpless damsel often (well, EVER), but seriously?!?!? In what world is it OK to leave a woman alone to fight a giant poisonous bug?!?!?!
But of all the things people might call me, "Coward" is NOT on that list. I kept right on stabbing, carving tiny chunks out of the centipede. Given enough time, I might have created a nice platter of assorted meats out of the thing. But Eyra had other plans. She walked right up to the other side of the centipede, quipped, "I have your back, Red," and stabbed the centipede. HARD. It looked like she might have done more damage in a single blow than I had in three or four. And the centipede noticed, and bit her. Hard. And she reeled. I desperately kept stabbing the thing, wishing I was bigger, or that my daggers bit deeper, but I knew that it would still take me some time to drop this beast. And Eyra, dizzy from poison and loss of blood, chose not to run, but to stab it again. And again she struck true and deep, and the centipede shuddered and fell to the ground. As Eyra collapsed to her knees, I scrambled atop the centipede to finish it off.
I lit into Davelek something awful. And I'd do it again. If your job is to be in the front lines, you NEVER leave. You HAVE to trust your healer to keep you upright. If you run, your healer dies, and everybody dies. He should know that. Davelek made all kinds of excuses as to being badly hurt, and bleeding, and wah wah wah. Fortunately, Eyra was able to heal both Davelek and herself up with her wand, and the poison ran its course without incapacitating her (though she was a bit wobbly), so we proceeded.
Rounding the corner of the house, we saw the family crypt. After a quick consultation, we decided to try the crypt first, as Blackwing would be of most use there. As we descended the stairs into the crypt, it got darker and darker, so Eyra lit up one of Davelek's swords. I took point, as I no longer trusted Davelek to hold his ground. As we neared the bottom of the stairs, a weird mummy thing charged forward. I stepped next to Davelek, forming a defensive line, and called out, "You're up, Blackwing!"
He cast some kind of spell and called out, "It's not undead!"
If there has ever been a more useless bird, I am unaware of it. I am beginning to think I know what the main course of our next banquet will be.
Davelek and I laid into the mummy-but-not-undead thing, and it seemed to want to prove its non-undeadness by sprouting a bunch of tentacles that engulfed Davelek. Eyra coated him with Grease and he got loose. I was momentarily distracted while pondering other uses of the spell, and Davelek was forced to finish it off on his own. Once it was dead, Eyra examined it and declared it an "Adherer", and definitely not undead.
Whatever. It was dead now.
We moved deeper into the tomb...
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OK, last night after doing Red's writeup I opened up Hero Labs and did a side-by-side Ranger 16 vs. Ranger 14/Ninja 2 comparison, since most APs end at 16. (Looks like Mummy's Mask ends at 17, but that last level is probably just before the final battle, so it doesn't seem like it would be that big of a deal.)
I lose a favored enemy, an iterative attack (at 16), +2 damage in Power Attack (at 16), and roughly 21 hit points and 3 AC off my wolf. I gain +3 in Acrobatics, a +1d6 sneak attack, roughly 14 hit points (because I can take Toughness instead of Additional Traits), and an uber-creepy "Instant Disguise" ability that, combined with my "Childlike" feat, could lead to some seriously fun-and-creepy roleplay moments.
Unfortunately, I don't think I'm going to do it -- the ranger/ninja combination is better for roleplay, but the pure ranger is better for combat, and right now it looks like Red is going to be the cornerstone of the front lines for the foreseeable future, so I've got to focus her on "Faster, pussycat, kill! Kill!"
So for now, pure ranger...
Hahahahahahah!
Aaaaaahhhhhhh... good times.
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Tammy planted a seed.
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This is looking like a lot of fun. I'm in the middle of a family run of Mummy's Mask as well (I'm GMing, so not worried about reading spoilers).
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Yeah. I'm pretty stoked -- one of my favorite games EVER was our family-only Crimson Throne campaign back in 2012, and I just don't have time to run another game. Impus Minor kept saying he REALLY wanted to try being a GM, and proved himself quite worthy running We Be Goblins, so I asked around and let him get started running Mummy's Mask.
Impus Minor is proving himself a perfectly competent GM, and at 12 years old, that's pretty darned amazing.
He didn't know that the centipede had reach (easy to overlook), but otherwise he's been running a tight game. My only complaint is the GMNPC -- a dual-wielding human fighter's going to leave Red in the dust, so to speak, so he's violating three of the fundamental tenets of GMNPCs:
(1) Don't outshine the PCs
(2) Don't duplicate existing abilities
(3) You're "first in, last out"
But seriously, if your biggest complaint about a 12-year-old GM is that he's over-playing his GMNPC as a PC, then he's doing a d**ned fine job of GM'ing!
I'm having a blast.
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If only I could have done as well at that age.
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I GM'd my first campaign when I was twelve. It was terrible, but we had fun.
My next campaign was also terrible.
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I GM'd my first campaign when I was twelve. It was terrible, but we had fun.
My next campaign was also terrible.
Y'know, that is SUCH a straight line that I must have rolled a natural 20 on my Will save to resist it...
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In other news, looking at Red and deciding that she's going pure ranger, I think I should drop the whole "Childlike/Bluff" thing. It's hilarious, but it isn't really in tune with the way I'm playing her. I could also drop "Additional Traits", gaining 2 feats and 22 skill points from the way I'd built her with Bluff and Disguise. I figure Toughness is the obvious first feat to give her those extra front-liner hit points. What else? Lunge? Pretty funny with a 3' halfling with daggers, but extra reach never hurts...
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Well, occasionally throwing some of those daggers wouldn't be terrible, and you've shown some bow use. Go with PBS and Precise Shot. Maybe add in Quick Draw down the road a little.
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You're having fun, seems like the rest is having fun, and Impus Minor appears to be having fun. What's not to like? :)