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Tell me the wildest, funniest, or craziest familiar yearns.
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My three wizards never had familiars I don't know why. Many of the wizards that I DMed had many cats, hawks, and even a toad, but I never took advantage to role play them. So if you don't mind regale me tales of your fabulous familiars.
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your ochre jelly familiar just ate my tennis shoes and half my legs and its getting kind gooy around my ears!
{hungrily licks approximation of humanoid lips} Say, how good are you at tennis?
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I get that reference!
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Blancmange Scout, not good enough to keep my tennis shoes from being eaten. Conversely "The Computer with Tennis Shoes" has come out with a new film "The Christmas Chronicles." Kurt Russel makes Santa Claus look so cool. Ms. Goldie makes a cameo appearance also. Enough of being off-topic on the Off-Topic board.
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If a double negative cancels itself out...
If two wrongs doesn't equal a right, but three lefts do...
If it takes three licks to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop...
If everyone is at most only six degrees away from Kevin Bacon...
How many off-topic diversions, side-tracks, and non-sequiturs does it take to get an off-topic thread in an off-topic subforum back onto its original topic of off-topicness?
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I am, in fact, only two degrees separated from Kevin Bacon. And no, I'm not kidding. I am also only 2 to 3 degrees separated from many classic rock era musicians.
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I've been 2 degrees away from becoming bacon.
Electrodes were set WAY too high....
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Character theme was a dumb sorcerer with a smart familiar. The sorcerer was charismatic, but an insufferable idiot.
So when he lost a staring contest with a basilisk , the bird gleefully proclaimed it the happiest day of his life , borrowed a pathfinder chronicle, sat on the sorcerers head and told the party to go ahead and give him some alone time so he could decorate the statue.
On another mission, the sorcerer charmed a bugbear sentry... a little TOO well. The sorcerer stayed back to.. ahem.. distract the bugbear and the bird went with the party to act as a messenger if something something went really wrong. Cue a few more bugbears showing up. There was some charm person and grease spells involved, and the Thrush fell off the fighters shoulder laughing at whatever was coming through the emotional link.
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I am that insufferable idiot (in real life), and many a time I have been used as a relief perch for avian beings.
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1) that one time my spoon psi on psi on psi in psi on psi inning psi ooc psilocybin psi knickers psi one psi pick a II psion/wizard accidentally summoned a portly lizard with a fake gem in its forehead and an insatiable craving for fruit instead of a psychic crystal scorpion of psi-and-arcane doom because of the poor wording of his attempt to summon a familiar “that could serve as both familiar and psicrystal”
2) that time he then tried hard to summon anything else but was stuck/bonded with it already
3) that time he the. encoded it, and, from morbid curiosity spent the power to give it mobility (the crystal in its forehead sprouted legs that vaguely tapped the creature repeatedly in the head, uselessly)
4) that time he eventually put it in a bag and forgot about it (aside from prestidigitating the bag and always buying more fruit)
5) that time it finally came in handy when he decided to solo a litch a coupel levels ahead of him, and only made it due to the cleric using healing through the bond with said familiar
6) that time he sent the familiar (made invisible and warded three ways to Sunday) off flying through a vast and dangerous territory to watch over his prying eyes, and was eventually treated to a weird if slightly adorable series of fantastic vistas... with a fat lazy fruit-eating crystal-faced lizard in the corner of all of them
7) that time by the end of the game when the familiar decided to retire to make babies and rule its own little kingdom of its own kind and SOMEONE WHO OS DEFINITLY NOT ME, DANG IT, STUPID ONION NINJAS geared up at the thought of never seeing his best little buddy again in this lifetime...
8) that time when the PCs son summoned a psicrystal familiar...
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One time I was GMing, and we had this player who was playing a crazed sorcerer (ancient and senile) who had managed a cow as a familiar and both were obsessed with dairy.
At one point, they went to a place with no animals permitted, and the sorcerer, unwilling to give up his familiar, used polymorph any object to turn the cow into a woman. This really bothered the cow. It was RP’d quite well, with the player running both characters. Funny times, but the cow was never turned back for reasons to complex to get into, leaving her grumpy, moody, and sad.
Shortly thereafter, the party was permitted to enter sacred elven territory where goddesses of dance were said to visit. The party was being watched super closely by the religious elves and needed a distraction.
Enter the cow.
The player loaded her up with every spell he could think of, and sent her to go be a distraction.
Que the man standing in a Barnes and Noble cafe doing his best Flashdance attempt, while trying to describe how his cow familiar polymorphic into a hunan woman processes her grief and angst of having the wrong body into a sacred elven dance that looks a lot like maybe casting a spell while plowing through the forest, drawing the eyes of the rangers, and repeatedly chanting “I am a cow, I am a cow, I am a cow” before he describes her eventually hitting her knees on the forest floor, tearing her robes (him pulling at the two sides of his zipper sweatshirt) and yelling, “I AM A COOOOOWWWWWW!” and then weeping onto the table.
I, uh... I let him pass the check.
(He insisted he rolled anyway and made a natural 20, so it worked out.)
(It was only partially successful; some guards still watched the PCs, but it did distract the majority, and the PCs handled the rest.)
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Alright, so this one only includes a familiar tangentially, but it was still an entertaining story, so here goes.
The setting was fairly low fantasy, so by the time the PCs were level 5 (Tier 2) they were some of the biggest badasses in town. Especially considering that they weren't the least optimized of characters, and could reliably trash hordes of enemies well outside their CR. They were flying just under the radar of the worlds' governments, well respected by the rulers of city states, brokering deals with all manner of Outsider (Evil)s. Life was good.
But then, the party druid/monk/magus made a fateful decision. See, due to poor decisions on his characters part, he was, on occasion, being hit with suggestion spells from an evil outsider, often at inconvenient times. (It functioned somewhat like a succubus's profane gift, but this was a monster unique the the setting, known as the Blight.) His Will wasn't bad, and the rest of the party was always on the lookout for it, so they managed. But this druid/monk/magus, deciding that if at first your dealings with Primeval Evil screw you over, you should try, try again, decided to make another deal. He had nothing to offer, so, in return for the Blight's help, he promised to voluntarily fail a saving throw against the Blight's suggestion, at some point in the future of the Blight's choosing.
The druid/monk/magus figured he'd have this hanging over his head for a while. Maybe it'd show up in the endgame. The player knows how much I like to bring up things everyone else has forgotten at a dramatically appropriate time.
Nah. It got resolved the very next session.
Which is all a rather long-winded way of saying that, at level 6 (Tier 3), a sentient forest was trying to consume the setting's largest metropolis, and the party was whistling innocuously while walking away. ("The silver lining in all this," the party's cleric was heard to say, "is that there's no way to trace it back to us.")
I mentioned that this was a low-magic setting. The party's wizard/cleric/mystic theurge/arcanist/sorcerer/ultimate magus was well aware of it, with his maxed knowledge: local. In all of the Swordsoath Alliance (the kinddom the party was in) the number of people high enough level to cast Legend Lore could be counted on one hand. Those powerful enough to cast Vision or Retrocognition could be counted on two fingers. All but one of them were busy using their high level spells to either 1) protect/evacuate the city, or 2) defend the Swordsoath Alliance against external threats, who took a major catastrophe as their cue to invade. Legend Lore has a lengthy casting time, when the location you want to know about is too dangerous to stay overnight in.
So the party's to do list looked something like:
1) See what we can do about finding the other plot coupon we know the location of.
2) Talk to the La Resistance about maybe overthrowing that one empire we don't like.
3) Level grind.
4) Maybe find some manner of protection against divination, in case they finish casting their spell and scry us.
So they weren't at all prepared when a strike team of elves teleported into their room.
Knowledge: Local from the wizard/cleric/summoner identified three of the elves as belonging to the Council of Eight - one of the elves' three branches of government (along with the Queen and the Congress). As it turns out, the enchanted forest which was now infected by an artifact fueled by the nightmares of all living creatures that made up one of the borders of the Swordsoath Alliance? A border that, I hasten to add, and hasten to add that I hastened to remind the players, is shared with the Elven Kingdoms? Elves who have abundant access to a wide variety of divination spells?
Despite some of the elves being twice the party's level, and outnumbering the party, it was a close fight. But when save-or-fight-your-friends are being bandied about like candy, one failed save can turn a skin-of-your-teeth-can-win-this? into a rout. (Fortunately, the elves were using nonlethal attacks (because they wanted to interrogate the party afterwards) (having realized this, the party was doing subdual damage too - if both were going all the players would have won, no contest)) Realizing that the fight was lost, the party's mystic theurge ran for hills. It was a big city, and the elves didn't have jurisdiction here. They couldn't chase him through the streets. He was confident that he could get away.
Ten combat rounds passed without pursuit.
Curious, he sent his familiar back to the scene of the attack to investigate. (See! This is a familiar yearn.) His familiar told him that the elves were all clustered around a mirror, and one of them was casting a spell.
Knowing that they were scrying for him, the wizard/cleric had to work fast. He didn't have any kind of protection against scrying, but he did have a Pathfinder Pouch. The interior of the Pathfinder Pouch was an extradimensional space, the player explained to his baffled DM, and since scrying doesn't work across planar boundaries, he should be able to climb inside the pouch, safe from magic attempts to discern his location.
The problem, I explained to the player, taking his character sheet from him, is that a Pathfinder Pouch is two cubic feat in size, and it says here that Margraven Adeleine is five feet tall, eight inches. Is Margraven, I asked, trained in escape artist?
The player, who is himself a bit taller than six feet, protested at this. He said that two cubic feet is plenty of room, if you curl into a ball. To prove this, a box was procured, with roughly the same dimensions as the pouch. In order to fit, he had to remove his bulky coat and shoes (they kept him from exercising his ankles' full range of motion), but he made it work. And so, Margraven Adeleine, minus his footware and wizardly robes, hid for half an hour curled up in a tiny ball.
The spell being cast was actually greater scrying, which last an hour per level, rather than a minute per, but my table has a houserule that if you crawl into a box to prove a point, the elves'll get tired of looking for you and end the duration early.
He wound up turning himself in anyways, to rejoin the party and break them out.
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Hey, man, no need for that spoiler; 'round here we just let it all hang out.
No, wait, I mea-!
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TL, going by some of your most recent posts, maybe you should lay off the Nyquil or something. :D
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Sh- sh- shays - hic! - yuuu~!
I don- ... I don'- ... I don' ev'n got no- no- um... no Nickle're whatever!
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(But, more seriously, I don't think we even have rubbing alcohol around here.)
EDIT: okay, that came off weirder than intended - I mean, simply, I don't know if we have anything alcoholic, not even cleaning, much less in anything comestible. It was meant as a joke. I don't know, but something feels weird... well, weirder about that phrasing... but OH WELL~!
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Oh, speaking of ooze-based familiars, once I was running a game with a tiefling sorcerer (an alchemist via skills and profession, but sorcerer class) with a Torble familiar. It was eventually turned into the group's trash disposal.
There were lots of weird moments, but the weirdest was when said tiefling was in a rather... hm... delicate situation ().
And, here's the thing, he was very meticulous about where all of his stuff was and what he'd done with it.
... except his familiar.
So, of course, it was (effectively) retconned that he had never actually put his familiar "away" (or, rather, that despite the fact that he had put things away - including, probably, his familiar - it had oozed its way out).
So juuuuuuuuuuust before, lots of violence commenced, there was a *plop* sound and the tiefling noticed his familiar was on his head. Thinking quickly, and rolling a really high bluff check, he started cursing the fact that "she" had uncovered "its" nefarious plan! He then spun an improbable tale of a strange encounter with an ooze turned wrong for the character.
A really high bluff check later (and three rather horrendously poor sense motive checks - I mean, seriously, they're all well-trained, but they could roll higher than a four between them), they're all absolutely convinced that they've been "engaging" with this villainous, monologueing mind-controlling ooze.
The "tiefling" (really a hag, mind) was really... ah... interested in this situation, while both human women were rather aghast. One phenomenal charisma-check later, and all three were fighting each other over the fate of the torble and the sorcerer. The sorcerer used his magic to highly protect the torble (of course) and stood behind his new "minion" (the "tiefling" revealing herself to be a hag to fight the two others), laughing maniacally. The hag was (surprisingly to everyone), defeated quickly by the two (though it had taken a while). The two tired and bruised women now faced the sorcerer... who had used most of his magic in a mostly-ineffective display to protect his "master" the Torble. He was quickly grappled, but used the last of his magical power to use dimension door... on the torble (sending it to the waiting arms of the succubus, who happened to be, like, right over there, though nobody knew it).
So now the player, empty of most magic (except cantrips), now has to pull off yet another bluff check to be a combination of dazed, confused, and mildly horrified at how he'd been used. He... mostly succeeded. Though the two were kind of suspicious, by the end, they were too tired, exhausted, and beaten up to do anything, and besides, as it turned out they'd made a pretty good team in that battle (and his fantastic untrained Diplomacy checks helped in no small amount) and they kind of liked each other. So they left the naked no-magic sorcerer alone and kind of sad that he'd just maligned and literally cast out and lost his best buddy and trash disposal, but kiiiiiiiiiiiiiind of relieved that the whole thing with the two was "over" (I mean, sad about it, yeah, as he'd grown fond of them, but they were his enemies, by technicality, and this would "make things simpler") and figured he'd just do without his familiar.
NOPE!
1) the hag had used a trick to escape (leaving behind a much-killed clone body)
2-3) the Hellknight and the CoT woman actually started working together, actively, to accomplish mooooooooost of their goals, and were both eventually excoriated from their own guilds, but before anything could come of that, both were put into mortal peril (along with some other dudes and dudettes from those same organizations) and had to be rescued by the PCs (both would go on to be instrumental in forming a different organization, later, with the PCs); also they took all of his stuff in a combination of revenge and payment for crimes
4) the succubus eventually returned his familiar and become quite the complicating factor in his life
5) the inn-keeper (who was, previously, written about as an exceptionally... ah... "energetic" woman... related by blood to an entirely different PC, who'd created her as an embarrassing aunt-like figure) showed up demanding to know what was happening with her inn, and horrified at all the damage and destruction left around the room, demanding the PC (now entirely impoverished) pay for the repairs. Now, of course, this wasn't what he meant. He's actually a lawful neutral straight-laced sort (this whole unsavory business wasn't his idea, but he'd been outvoted after all). But, nevertheless, what the PC said, as he was standing there, naked, in front of a mostly-fine bed, to a well-established highly lusty woman was, "I'm a little short on cash; isn't there any other arrangement we could come to? Any other way I could repay you?" And he made a charisma check (untrained Diplomacy). Natural 20. The woman shut and locked the door, starting with, "I think there just might be..." (The PC whose aunt this was never forgave the tiefling PC, though the player found it hilarious and couldn't stop laughing.) ((The PC was also required to, you know, actually pay by casting spells.))
So, instead of getting rid of everything, he went from three-and-a-half lovers to five. And he really wanted none of them, though he genuinely came to care about three (well, all five at some point or another, but two of them turned out less... ah... caring? Yeah, "less caring"... in return, as they weren't who he thought they were).
Fun times. Fun times.