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Topics - Johan

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Players Forum / A Typical Dream
« on: March 02, 2008, 03:40:30 PM »
The sun danced with the clouds in the sky as Temmit bounced along nestled in front of his sister on her tall spotted horse. Nalla had come home from school only days before and their parents took the opportunity to ride out to the forest as a family to check their traps and to hunt for food and skins.

Temmit's father was a bit ahead of them, his mother just in back of them, and Nalla kept poking Temmit in his ribs, raising continuous guffaws from her little brother.

Then all at once they were setting up their camp. Mother and Father hanging lines, rubbing down horses, and toiling as they needed. Temmit's job was to occupy Nalla, and he did that with focused and energetic glee.

The food was good, but gone too fast. The play was good too, but exhausting. Sleep was the merest of moments, but he awakened to his mother and sister tending his whims. And yet, it seemed that there was never enough time. They were always doing something else at the same time.

Then his father was there, hiding his eyes in the crease of his hairy elbow while Temmit peered furtively out through the prickly bush that he had carefully climbed into. It had scratched him pretty badly, but at least his father, if he spotted Temmit in his hiding place, would have trouble extracting him from that tangled mass of shrub.

His father was counting slowly. Temmit watched with gleeful anticipation; the shadows of the swaying trees behind his father caught at Temmit's young imagination and he fancied that the very trees themselves had come to walk about, helping his father to locate Temmit. It seemed that one of the trees was reaching for his father, who still stood, counting loudly for Temmit's benefit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Temmit spotted his mother and sister running towards them from the camp. They pointed and yelled incomprehensibly, and Temmit pulled back a little so that they would not be able to see him.

Then time slowed to a crawl and Temmit found that he was keenly aware of everything that was transpiring. His father called out the last few numbers that signified that he would now begin searching for Temmit. His large, powerful arm came off of his eyes so that he could look about. Nalla and Temmit's mother screamed…it sounded like they were afraid.

The tree's shadow touched Temmit's father's back. The man's eyes widened impossibly large and his back arched, his broad chest pushing forward. Gleaming white spikes erupted from Temmit's father's chest: three of them, long and wicked. Blood spattered across the several feet that separated them, covering Temmit and soaking his few clothes. It was warm blood. Temmit's heart pounded forcibly as cold understanding crept upon him.

Temmit realized several things. There was danger. His father was in a lot of pain. There was a lot of danger. The tree was an enormous Kulh'Thul, who was now holding Temmit's father above his bestial head. The monster pulled and twisted at Temmit's father, ripped him in half, and threw him through the air. His legs, at any rate.

Pain erupted through Temmit's terror. Something heavy fell upon the child and as he was under the prickly shrub, hundreds of thorns punctured him and tore at his flesh. He struggled, making the situation worse, but what else was there to do?

Temmit was suddenly aware that his mother and sister were in combat with the beast. They were both trained fighters, but Temmit was frightened anyway. Noise filled the forest. The cacophony of arms and melee. The roars – both pained and angered – of a demon. Temmit clawed his way out of the shrubs; out from under his father's legs. The thorns tore open more and more of his flesh.

His mother fell, her face clawed and chewed from her head. As his mother fell, Nalla lunged at the monster, burying her long blood-covered sword into its middle. It screamed - or howled - and reached for her. Then Nalla screamed, but Temmit was screaming too. Fear-driven anger swelled in Temmit's breast. Nalla's head hit him in the stomach, and he fell back into the prickly bush.

The Karh'Thul pulled Nalla's sword from its middle and snapped it in two. It turned its white, glowing malevolent eyes upon Temmit. The first step it took towards him was on his mother's stilled body. He could hear it break and crack.

Then he was picked up by the demon. The rough skin and bristly hair of the beast scratched him deeply. The beast drew him slowly to its fanged and hideous maw, and Temmit's mind snapped.

In the darkness of his dorm room, Temmit awoke in the oft-visited depths of misery. He had awakened to this dream countless times over the last dozen years. When it was a new dream it only got so far as the attack on his father, and at that time he had relived it every single night. Over the years it became less frequent, but progressed further and further until now, at last, the dream would progress until he could just about smell the fetid breath of the monster. Of course, it was only once every few weeks that he was able to sleep deeply enough to have any dreams, but this was what his mind invariably presented for a dream. Other nights deep sleep eluded him entirely.

He was shaking, as he always was. He was crying, as he always was. He was as scared as he had been on the day that it happened. In the lonely dark he gripped Smokey so tightly that the little crystal hurt his hand. Smokey was silent, but his presence was undeniable and calming.

Temmit wished that he didn't have the need to sleep ever again.

House Rules / Character Development Questions
« on: January 24, 2008, 01:31:37 PM »
(OOC: Thread was renamed from Eberron Questions (Galore))

So as I consider this new setting, and wonder on the mertis of one class or another, I find that I have many questions, and some of those beget questions that, while not necessarily pertinent to my prospective toon future, beget other questions that are.


All classes are open, but finger wiggling best be done in private.
What does this mean for a Paladin (or a cleric, for that matter)? Convention would have us believe that these classes need gods, and there's only one of them. Can Paladin / Cleric of Kaine use their VooDoo any time, safe in the light of Our Father? Is that what the Council of 5 is (are)? Clerics and Pallies?

Let's say that I decide that I want to play a ranger-type (or a druid for the matter of this particular question). Are there wild lands that would be my home / playground? Of course, I'm still in school during the day (which I assume is mandatory...are there truant officers?), so how does that work out?

What is the climate of Safe Haven? I know that it's a half mile above sea level, and ringed by some serious mountains. A ringing of mountains tends to have a stabilizing effect on geography. Seattle is thus ringed, and a result is that temperatures stay warm enough for folks to live on small boats year-round (they are roughly at our latitude, and you know how cold it gets here). It seldom snows there, but it's often rainy.

What is the terrain between Safe Haven and the Holy Flame (The Rim? The Outlands? I forget...)?
Do they keep that well-mowed like a PGA Golf course, so as to see any issues coming along?
Are there hunting grounds?
Is there anything that approached game-playing? R&R?
Do we go for swims in that big ol' lake?
Is school a seven-day-a-week activity (do your weeks have seven days?)? How many hours per day (both the day itself and the school day)?
Is "school" along the lines of "Reading, Riting, and Rithmatic" or more like "Swinging, Poking, and Archery"?
Is there a black market for teaching VooDoo?
Exactly how long ago did Kaine decide to sleep in the same spot twice? "Decades" is the only answer that I can recall seeing.
What is local faire like? Fish and meats? There's a farm, at least, and some orchards, I think I read. If we eat meat, where does that come from (the King's forest)?
What are building made from? What is their architecture like (German rustic or Manhatten rusty)?
What's the technology level? I think that Eberron was made for combustion engines and roughly modern day technology; what are you using?

I've got to get back to work, but those queries should seed more questions.


In Character Discussions / More and more like Home
« on: September 07, 2007, 03:13:42 PM »
This thread starts on Sprouting Grass / Egg 25, during the day after arriving at the Forest Keep, having recovered the remains of Dannobar.

The inn at the Forest Keep was more crowded than Belwar had ever seen it. It looked to him like they were also hard at work - and well on the way to - adding a second level to it. He had been thinking more and more lately that the Forest Keep seemed more like home to him than Eastwold had, especially since his father had died. He drank another quaff to his sire's memory.

There was a lot of talk and hammering and whatnot going on at the inn today. But under it all, Belwar thought that he detected a note that felt like mountains. He couldn't be sure whether it was a breath of air, or a scent or a sound amidst the cacophony of humans, or what. But there was a tremor - or a vitality that he sensed. As though the high plateau upon which the keep sat was quaking slightly. Or settling perhaps. Like the shivering feeling that one got on the eve before a battle, only deeper and more profound. It was a sensation that only a dwarf could appreciate. Very likely one that only a dwarf would be aware of.

There had been one day in Eastwold that Belwar had felt this sort of sensation, but that had been only once, and many years ago. The entire mountain's clans rejoiced then for a full week. The elders said that Moradin was walking the deepest tunnels under the mountain and he was happy. They had said that such an experience might come along once in your life, if you were lucky.

Belwar wasn?t sure why that memory surfaced so vividly today. When he tried to recapture the sensation, it was gone. But the recollections that it incited left Belwar happy. Right down to his axe.

Game Log / Session 8 - Date Unknown
« on: May 09, 2007, 05:54:50 PM »

Character Info / Pike
« on: March 15, 2007, 09:55:02 AM »
Pike is an aged human who operates the Keep's weapons depot / shop (which is small) as well as the Keep's Smithy (which is also small and is just next to the weapons depot / shop).

He is portly, has whispy blond hair and fat, hammy hands.

His accent and dialect are akin to Zurn's:

"Hallo?" A burly voice hailed from beyond an open doorway in the back of the weaponer's. A portly aging fellow with whispy light blond hair emerged from beyond that doorway wiping his thick hands upon a heavy, dirty apron.

"Aye, one o' th' dwaves th' people be talkin' about! Welcome master." The man exclaimed. "What c'n I do fer you?"
"Is all a matter-a feel." Pike explained. "Th' rabbit's a bit more supple and will t'row a heavier stone not quite so fast, and th' cowhide'll break if ye tries t' t'row a heavier stone, but ye git more speed onna lighter stone, so they do about th' same damage-wise." Pike pulled on a rabbit-skin sling for effect, demonstrating that the skin had a little more pull to it than one of the others.

Pike is not a craftsman, perse, but can make simple weapons that are functional and durable, and can affect repairs to most kinds of armor and weapons.

Pike's Weapon Depot / Shop:

The Weapon Depot / Shop is barely five paces in any direction. It is also cluttered. Not one piece of the room has gone to waste. Upon the walls are hung countless shelves, which bear all manner of simple weapons. To the right of the door as one entered are the slings and stones.

Next to the slings is an array of short and long bows. The bows rest horizontally upon sets of peg in the wall, and below them are canisters in which stood countless loose arrows. Short sheaf and long sheaf arrows are naturally organized into their own groups.

This whole corner of the small shop was dedicated to ranged weaponry. Crossbows, light and heavy cling to the wall next to the other bows, and the bolts stand in their own small canisters next to the arrows.

Next to the door that lead to the back room, pikes, spears, and a few other poles adorn racks that serve to keep the poles standing. There is an assortment of spears and a few halberds among the assortment of staves and pikes.

Against the rear wall of the little shop there is a counter from which Pike obviously performes his haggling and selling. Behind that counter, again hanging from the wall, are stacks of small bladed weapons. Daggers, dirks, short swords and the like are displayed there.

On the left wall of the shop, both hanging and sitting upon the floor are swords. In the rear corner of that wall, near to the counter, are long swords, and there are many of them. There are six stacks of long swords: three hung high, and three low. Next to them, as one moved towards the front wall of the shop are larger sword varieties: bastard to claymore. There is even a double-bladed sword that hangs high on that wall, near the ceiling. Then axes, maces, and flails clutter the front corner of that wall.

The front wall, to the immediate left as you enter the shop, are weapon accessories, such as bow strings, waxes, sling repair kits, oils and cloths for the care of blades, and such items.

In Character Discussions / Nettle Remains
« on: March 13, 2007, 12:47:09 PM »
Duthash Gyth Voldyn 237 (May 25) - Upon the closure of Session 15 - The Nettle Demons

Maccabeus was gladdened that Whisper was feeling better, and that he could have played a hand in the thus-far half salvation of her splendid grove. He wondered whether Mahiya had heard his yearning to travel to the Valley and recover another Vallenwood Acorn, and this was her way of incentivizing him. The good that can come from the vile Nettle Lord and his little demon-like minions.

The thought of the thorny Bulb recollected to Maccabeus that black, pulsing heart that had throbbed in the twisted botanical breast. "OH!" He came upright suddenly. "Ashe, I nearly forgot, ninny that I am!" He pulled his leather bag from its place as it slung across his chest. "I took samples of the Nettled Ones for you. I thought that you might be able to make use of some of their remains." He reached into his bag and produced the pieces that he had wrapped in his own torn shirt. "Ah, yes...and I need a new shirt too." He remarked. "Actually, I was in need of one of those anyway." He conceded. "This one I've been wearing and washing for a long while, and was in need of some replacing."

As he spoke, he handed the wrapped samples up to Ashe. "There was also this...thing." He added. " do I...I don't really want to...hmmmm..." He seemed to stumble around upon himself and eventually upended his bag onto the floor of Ashe's home.

Out pored his tobacco sack, his pipe, some samples of cheese and dried fish, and a small roundish marbled rock, smooth as though it had spent a millennia being caressed by waters. "Feh!" He huffed and shook the bag a little until with a dull thud that Nettle Lord's black pulsing heart fell upon the floor.

Maccabeus reached for the little bit of fish that had emptied from his satchel, but Wolf was quicker. Maccabeus glared playfully at his companion and settled upon the cheese. He looked up at Ashe then...

Game Log / Session 15 - The Nettle Demons
« on: March 13, 2007, 10:13:50 AM »

Game Log / Interlude 3 - Divine Will
« on: February 02, 2007, 03:50:13 PM »
Morning, the 14th day of the Sprouting Grass/Egg moon.

Corryn watched the five companions embark upon their quest to save Dannobar. It was not long before they were swallowed whole by the dense forest that was home to the Keep. Coris knew, of course, that Corryn had never supported the decision to build the keep and populate it with soldiers. That plan had been promolgated in the name of "Establishing a presence" in the forest.

She had long considered whether there weren't some ulterior motive for this effort. Of course, there had to be. Money, she had thought. Surely it was greed that motivated this occupation. But for what? Did they think that there was gold to be had? From where?

But watching her new friends embark upon their holy mission, it dawned upon Lady Corryn that this was the will of Ehlonna. It was Her will to save Dannobar, and From Vorntoque, no less.

A deep conviction settled upon Lady Corryn as she came to the realization that this keep had been placed here to combat the growing threat of Vorntoque. She would have known that he was growing to power in those mountains.

Why else would Corris have been selected as Captain of this place? He was far more than a mere captain. But they had selected him for this post, and he had manned it well. She wondered whether he was aware of Ehlonna's hand in this keep.

With a wry smile on her pretty face, she dismounted the wall of the keep and proceeded towards the Inner Bailey.

In Character Discussions / Ambush Site
« on: September 05, 2006, 01:55:21 PM »
Duthash Dracum Syncath [15 May]

Kossuth was still far beyond the east wall when Jarmok stepped lightly onto his porch. A light misty rain hung in the false dawn air, which was crisp and cool. The fogveil rumbled invisible in the distance. On this day he had resigned himself to missing his customary greeting of the morning. He had a lot of territory to cover, and wanted it behind him before Kossuth was too low in the west.

He cinched the straps of his tall leather boots one last time and adjusted his axes, his bow and quiver, and the bag that hung across his back and carried enough venison to see him through.

He shook the last motes of sleep from his mind and jumped down the few stairs to the ground and struck out northeasterly through the forest towards the road that led through Little Threshold and beyond.

He had to restrain himself a bit. Today would be a test of endurance, not of speed. Pace would be his ally, and he needed to mind it closely. As much as he wanted to push his speed, he knew that speed came at the cost of longevity. It also came at the cost of secrecy, and with all the Shadow Rider activity hereabouts of late, secrecy was another ally that he could not afford to offend.

Leaving the protection of Threshold to the rest of the Protectorate, he ran on, near soundless, through the morning and was past Little Threshold before anyone was about. He wasn't invisible, however, and one of the farmer's dogs barked in the night at his intrusion. He wondered whether the animal knew at what it was barking. Then he wondered whether the animal was truly barking at his presence, or was there something else up so early as well.

He sped up a little.

Out of Character Discussions / Quick Question:
« on: July 24, 2006, 05:50:55 PM »
Hey I have a rudimentary logistics question regarding the return the Threshold after "Return to River Cliff Keep"

How are we getting the dead priests back to Threshold?

We had suggested that we could rig litters for them from sticks and blankets or cloaks or cloth of some sort. But in so doing, who's carrying?

If we carry two per litter, how does that work exactly?

Carriers could include anybody, but can Laren or Sayer make it to Threshold carrying a body (this is an actual question, since I don't know the respective strengths of those people)? Jarmok himself has only a 13 Strength. Although his Con is rather high, and this would seem to be an endurance test, so he might be able to carry half a litter for that length.

Priest 1: Dale and Aelath'Ha
Priest 2: Maal and Jarmok
Priest 3: Ragnor and ...? Sayer and Laren?

Perhaps is Ragnor (Mr. Universe) were to be in the middle of a tandem?


Does Maal want another heal potion so as to make that trek less arduous?


Also, upon arriving back in Threshold, it is going to be past sun-down. I would expect that most of us will be due in for a conversation with Julius, at least. Severen perhaps as well.

Jarmok will want after that to go and talk to Ashe too.

For this run back to Threshold, we don't have an outrunner either. Not that this really matters, but it would bother Jarmok to not have a scout up ahead...can Laren fill that capacity?

Game Log / Episode 12: The King of Bling
« on: June 16, 2006, 02:11:24 PM »
Duthash Zinnyas Aryor [May 12]

The town of Threshold is saturated with pilgrims and travelers. All waiting for their dparture to the legendary Valley Of Mist. The inns have been filled beyond their capacity and every last bit of space in Threshold proper has become occupied. Several of the farmers in what you?ve come to know as Little Threshold have opened their doors and for a small fee have allowed travelers to camp on their land and lodge in their houses.

Many tents and caravans have populated the little hamlet also bringing it to maximum density. The roosters crow and people begin to mill about searching for food to sedate their grumbling bellies. Rumors are flying about concerning a mysterious attack that occurred two nights ago. Many travelers are afraid to contiue for fear of being attacked themselves. There is also news that the exodus from Threshold to the Valley is going slower than it has in past years due to abnormally heavy volumn of traffic and similar concerns of attacks that may occur along the road. It has also been said that Julius Hawkhaven, the chief councilman of Threshold, is dealing with the problem of the attacks with the aid of the recently formed Threshold Protectorate.

Many of you find yourselves here as hired guardians for the caravans of travelers and merchants making their way either to Threshold or the Valley. Despite the buzzing events, prosperity abounds.

You manage to find some breakfast and many of the merchants have opened their mobile stores and even this early commerce has begun. The wagons that you?ve traveled with are on the north end of the tiny village on the road side, the east side, of the river. A cool breeze comes off the mountains and puffy clouds tumble through the sky.

A nearby woman shouts out, "Oh great Paladine! Look there, on the road! Injured gnomes!" Looking down the road you see 5 short figures walking slowly towards the unsuspecting hamlet. They appear to be torn and wounded. One of them stumbles and falls into the dirt. "Someone! Please help us!"

Maccabeus: The noise beyond the brambles is both distracting and intriguing. Although the idea of so many people so close to the Ring is a bit unnerving, you know that it well safe from any harm?wrapped in a blanket of secrecy. Still the curious nature of the events that have recently taken place have made you aware that nothing is completely safe. Learning more about your surroundings has always been a vital key to survival. So, studying the folk of Threshold has become of interest to you. Tucked away in the thickets of underbrush on the edge of the fields you and Wolf watch the crowds of people go about their business.

Above the static noise you hear words that become of keen interest to you?Injured gnomes.

Hafaveraal: Your last episode in Threshold was exciting as you actually got some of the adventure that you crave, rats, fires, caves, and combat. Those sorts of things keep you sharp and ready. But money is also needed so for the past week you?ve traveled from Threshold to Kurr and back as a hired strongarm. Travelers in unprotected lands need people like you to guard them. It?s not exciting but it does pay. Sometimes it even pays well. But now you are back in the shadow of the sharp toothy mountains eating you breakfast when you hear a cry go out about someone being injured. Ah, a break from the monotony!

The names of the gnomes are Fankin, Jybin, Nod, Rowenna, and Caramip.

When asked what happened:

Nod answers and nods while he talks, "It was foolish of us really, but we wanted to get to Threshold but we got a late start and pressed as hard as we could. We would even travel at night. Last night our mistake caught up to us. We were attacked. We came without any guards or escorts and we were defensless from the frogmen. They came without warning?some, some even rode gigantic beastly lizards that stood as high as two horses! The frogmen themselves were like giants!"

Fankin speaks up, "they weren?t as tall as all that. He exaggerates. But they did attack and some of our people were killed and taken away into the woods. Some of our mechandise too. You see we make jewelry and they took much of what we would sell. That was the purpose of our trip. Now we?re left with?well, I don?t know. Probably not too much. They ravaged our caravan as quickly as possible and just took off with some of our folk?some of us died in the attack. Can you help us? We?ll pay handsomely to get back who we can and whatever of ours you can find."

Present for this adventure:
* Hafaeveraal, human fighter: Phin
* Maccabeus, savage gnome druid: Johan
* Melzac Bramblethorn, human fighter: Himo
* Aelath'Ha, elven psychic warrior: Dray

- Gnomes return injured, explain that their caravan was mugged by frogmen and a large lizard mount
- They had jewelry which was stolen; would we please retrieve it?
- Upon hearing the gnome's offer for reward, the group of individuals exchanged glances and agreed to assist
- They do not know each other, and introductions are made
- The group heads up the road to where the caravan was
- Broken carts, dead ponies and destroyed cargo is all that remains
- After a little bit of searching, we find some jewelry which we hide in the wreckage, with the intention of coming back to return it to town

- Maccabeus searches for tracks: there are three frog-like prints, and one large lizard-like prints heading west
- Follow the tracks for the morning
- Cross a river
- Haf is watching butterflies and never sees the huge preying mantis strike out and grab him!
- Fight ensures -- Haf struggles to break free from the creature's grip as the party assists by rolling crappy "to hit" rolls excepting Maccabeus's one critical hit, in which he dealt an astounding 4HP damage to the hapless creature
- Melzac steps in with his great sword and decapitates the mantis!
- Heal up with a bunch of crappy healing rolls (crappy spells from Maccabeus and crappy skill rolls from Maccabeus and Melzac)

- Maccabeus looks around and picks up the tracks (at least his rolls are good for the tracking!)
- As we continue, the area begins getting marshy/bog
- Maccabeus is ambushed by a great toad!  Its tongue grabs Mac and it SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE!
- Haf is intrigued by a toad that is willing to swallow and gets the toad's phone number
- Maccabeus warns Haf to find his own darn toad; this one is occupied
- Meanwhile Mac is inside the toad and tries futilely to stab it with his short spear from inside
- Group continues to make crappy attack rolls -- Haf takes a dagger and slits the toad's belly, spilling Maccabeus onto the ground covered in toad belly juice
- After making some more crappy healing checks, the group is rests for the night

- Next morning, Maccabeus picks up the trail again (barely finding the trail)
- The marshy terrain is challenging Maccabeus's tracking skills.  Thank the gods for that big, heavy lizard leaving tracks behind (although we may feel less thankful when we actually come upon it)
- Up ahead, some of the more sharp-eyed members see movements beyond the thick brambles
- Ollie sees movement and lets loose an arrow! POW!  He hits a frogman!
- (Initiative is rolled: there is one roll higher than a 6 among the group)
- Group fires arrows/sling stones and a wolf as the frogmen hide
- Two frogmen suddenly burst up from the water! leaping down on the party in frogman fury. They didn't hide -- they went underwater and swam toward us!
- Swords are swinging, spears are spearing, frogs are falling, death is nearing
- The lizard mount swims through the water and attacks!
- The party surrounds and pounds and makes short work of the lizard with the help of an entangle spell and a well timed critical with a muthaluvin' greatsword.

- Search the frog camp and recover the missing jewelry (Moss Pockets!)
- Find some old coins as a bonus! Amazingly, the number is equally divisable by 4...the number of partymembers!
- Track back to the caravan and pick up the rest of the jewelry hidden in the carts
- Return to Threshold and give the jewelry to the gnomes (who are found at Ashe's, in the Elder's care)
- The gnomes are thrilled and reward us handsomely (35GP each)

- 975 XP awarded

Game Log / Interlude 2 - A Conversation on the Edge of a Swamp
« on: May 09, 2006, 01:53:51 PM »
?And two of them were infected by the wendigo?? The hulking form asked.

The slip of a girl smiled and answered: ?Yes. One of the dwarves and the elf. They were seeking a cure, but they are too far away for any cure to help them.?

The big warrior laughed heartily, bearing his long greenish fangs to the evening sky. ?Then there are two less to deal with.? He laughed roughly again.

?Not necessarily.? The little girl replied. ?The dwarf had a red dragon scale.?

?That is even funnier! The scale will not protect him from the curse of the Wendigo, which keeps the scale out of the hands of the others.? He laughed some more and howled at the rising moon, which had just begun its descent towards new. At length he took hold of himself again. ?They had the book, yes?? He asked.

?Oh they had the book, right enough, but they?ve no idea of what it is, or what can be done with it.?

?The better still.? He grumbled. He craned his neck around to look with deep red-pupiled eyes to a massively muscled coal-colored hound that was sniffing intently at the ground near the brambles. ?You have their scent yet?? He asked gruffly. The great black animal looked upon its master with its dark eyes and let forth a rumble that led to a deep bark. ?Only a day or so ahead.? The master said as he turned back to his hostess. ?We?ll have them before too long.?

?Have a care.? The little girl warned. ?I would like the drum player for mine, if you can manage it. He has such a lovely voice.? She mused.

?Ah yes.? He pondered. ?There were once but four of these filthy bastards. You can have the drum player, and my animal can have the cat woman. Mind you, I don?t intend to carry prisoners; you?ll have to send your people to fetch the drummer yourself, and hope that he is not so foolish as to try to fight me.? He tenderly stroked he beautiful staff with an immense furry, taloned hand. The staff was thick as a man?s wrist, made of some deep brown wood and reinforced with shiny metal bands, which could only be either mithril or adamant.

?My people are already on his tail,? she smiled mysteriously as she spoke, ?to try to recruit him.?

The big warrior rose from the small fire. He towered four times the height of the little girl, who stood barely as tall as his knee. ?Well enough.? He said. ?I?ll take my leave, my Lady. Thanks to you for the information, and I?ll try to not kill your drummer.? He laughed again as he strode purposefully towards and into the swamps. Despite their size, the warrior and his beast move silently and effortlessly through the forest.

Character Info / Lady Corryn
« on: March 07, 2006, 03:12:45 PM »
Lady Corryn (Core-In) is the ranking priestess at the Forest Keep. She is tall, standing roughly as tall as the average man, and she is very thin.

Lady Corryn has large, round sapphire eyes and long dark blond hair which is usually kept tightly and neatly behind her head in a sturdy leather collette. Her features are delicate, porceline-like, and unblemished.

Lady Corryn moves with fluidity and grace, and is the picture of elegance.

Her clothing tends towards utilitarian: heavy cloth and leather. And about he neck hangs the pendant of a rampant unicorn ? the symbol of Ehlonna.

Out of Character Discussions / I take more than a little umbrage
« on: February 15, 2006, 01:18:40 PM »
Quote from: green
When I wrote this I hadn't yet read the OOC where everyone agreed to Jarmok's plan.    Dale is amazed at how stupid Jarmok is and I as a player was taken compleeeetely by surprise by his actions.  Dale also feels personally affronted by Jarmok and he doesn't know what he did to irritate him so much.

Personally I wasn't thrilled with Johan forcing everyone else's hand (remember I had not read the last few posts of the Lets Work Together OOC)

I take more than a little umbrage at this, BS.

I haven't forced anybody's hands. Even had you not read the other thread. Everyone is free to do as they and their character wills. Follow if you'd like. Don't if you don't.

I'm pretty confident that Sayer wouldn't. I'm pretty sure that Ragnor sees the wisdom in leaving him to guard over the councilors and Sayer.

I will cite these particular quotes from Dale:

Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2006: "...We should all go together. (I'll conceded that there may be some contextual buttressing here)

Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2006: "If we are all in and only if we are all in on this, I suggest we split our forces again."

There is inherent ambivalence in these statements.

I would also like to call attention to this apparent blindness:

Posted: Mon Feb 13: "Is not more hunt. Is rescue now." (Jarmok, obviously)

But then Dale shoots back (much later, granted):

Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2006: "You say I'm bloodthirsty? You're the one charging back into to battle!"

I call this blindness because I've already made it clear that I'm *NOT* going into battle, but you seem to ignore that. Additionally, it is Dale who has advocated that we collectively run into battle, not Jarmok, and you seem to ignore that as well. I'm not clear on whether this is superb role playing (kudos for that), or inobservance.

More from that same post: "Besides, who gave you the right to order us what to do?"

I apologize; I don't see where Jarmok pointedly issued any orders. I will say that he tried to make his point in his broken language as hard as he could, but he didn't "order" anyone to do anything. That's not his style. Again, if this is but superb role playing, then you've got it down awfully well. Well done.

You and Dale seem to want one thing, and one thing only: To talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk until the rest of us throw our collective hands up and do it your way.

This is my read of this very long and weary thread. And bear in mind, it's not going to happen. Dale is going to have to internalize that people are going to have differing opinions; he's going to have to learn how to respect those opinions, and he's going to have to take into account that he's been in Threshold for a few days, while Jarmok has lived there, as far as Dale knows for his whole life. Furthermore, Jarmok has been given a duty and a place of honor by the residing council. Jarmok actually has a job and a special emblem that speaks to his position in the town as its protector.

Jarmok has simply made his mind up and is moving forward with that (acknowledging that they've only got limited time, and that is slipping away by the word). He's not forcing anyone to follow, and neither am I. As for Dale being amazed at how stupid Jarmok is, my sense is that Dale would be amazed at how stupid Paladine is too. Try to not confuse stupidity with foolishness. They are very separate things.

It is clear to Jarmok (and to me) that words are not going to move this conversation forward. You will keep making your same (albeit vacillating) point repeatedly ad infinitum. That's ok. Just don't expect Jarmok to stand and listen to it. There's an impact to having him chaotically aligned, and this is it.

Again, follow if you will, don't if you won't. Conversation and differing opinions are more than welcome at all times. Friction is not. When a game comes to the point where friction becomes tension, we all need to have the wisdom to back away for a time. The fact that one player doesn't agree with another does not make either of those people stupid. Or even foolish.

In parting, when you do something like shoot an arrow into a door, try to not dictate the response of the other players. Take your action, but wait for the other players to tell you their own actions before continuing on. Dale's diatribe at the end lost a lot of steam because he was then talking to the air. Many of his demands would have been met and deflated, but as it was you charge on assuming that you retain the floor.

To wit:

"Who made you king?" Dale shouted at Jarmok's back.

Let's pretend that Jarmok did stop and turn.

"Not king." Jarmok objected angrily. He held up his bronzewood axe in exhibition. "But Julius make me Protek'tr because Threshold ask. You have bronzewood? Julius give you title? You even have house in Threshold? Not your home! Go home if not like!"

Dale snapped back: "You don't care what anyone else has to say?"

"Everyone spoke." Jarmok answered this next accusation.

Dale railed on, saying, "You're gonna take Kit underground when she can't even stand? What are you thinking?!!!!"

"Kit come if Kit want. No force."

"Who's going to rescue your sorry hide when you get overwhelmed down there?"

"If I die, then you leave. No need rescue me. At least councilors get Threshold."

"Stop being an ignorant jackass Jarmok!"

"If living prisoners, we get." Jarmok said, moving back across the courtyard to where Dale was. "If you in there, you want us leave without?!? Who's jackass now?!?!" Jarmok slammed his axe into Dale's cranium.

See how things can either inflate of deflate? Please try to take things one step at a time. Make up your mind as to what you want to do, and do that if you have to. But don't go belittling folks based upon whether they agree with you or not. Believe it or not, your ideas aren't always the best for everybody (no one's are). That's why corporate America invented the committee.

House rules / Half-Elves Bite
« on: January 30, 2006, 05:22:49 PM »
Below is the current Half-Elf starting "package":

Just like the elves:
Immunity to Sleep and similar magical effects
+2 to saves against enchantment spells or effects
LL Vision

Almost like the elves:
+1 on Listen, Search, and Spot
Elf blood

Like the humans:
No favored class (means that multiclassing isn?t going to affect experience accumulation)

All their own:
+2 to Gather Information checks

We all know that I don't care for the human starting package, and I don't particularly care for this one either. It has seemed underpowered to me for a while.

SO, with that in mind, I'm going to make the Half-elf package pretty close to halfway between the human and the elf.

The new package:

+1Dex, -1 Con
Immunity to Sleep and similar magical effects
+2 to saves against enchantment spells or effects
LL Vision
+1 on Listen, Search, and Spot
Elf blood
2 additional skill points at first level
At first level, choose 4 skills that are from then on considered to be Class skills
You can add a +2 modifier onto one of these skills (choose upon character creation, cannot later be changed)
Favored Class: Bard, Fighter, Mage, Ranger, Rogue, Sorcerer (means that multiclassing in these classes isn?t going to affect experience accumulation)

I think that this is a good balance, and any half-elves in the FK game (Arlen) may add these modifications to their character now.

[If any of you (Arlen) would prefer to leave your half-elf the way it is, please feel free to do so]

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