Sovereign Sojourn

Hey guys, I am super sorry. I was just out of town for the past week. Let me explain...   Okay so, my work occasionally requires me to leave town to meet with clients or to install equipment. Typically, this happens less than once every three months, most of my work is within driving distance. To make a long story short, I normally have a LOT of heads-up on when I am leaving town, but this time, due to another employee of the company pulling the infamous no-show for an important job, I got tagged and ended up leaving town the very next morning, no real warning at all. I regret that I simply didn't have the time while I was packing for this sudden trip to update you guys, something I thought about more than a few times while on the job... Anyways, my apologies, that's my bad. I sincerely regret the bait and switch there since we JUST started this session. Let me know where the interest level is at, I understand that an early interruption like this can really bum people out and I admit I now have to get reoriented and remember what I was planning here. xD But I am back in orbit for the foreseeable future. Again, truest apologies!  

Alruna's hand snapped back when the pendant was revealed, and she makes no move to grab it. The hiss of a rattlesnake escapes her lips. Indeed, she takes a small step back and places the hand once offered to the woman for comfort on her own stomach. She felt uneasy... sick, even. The pendant carried an ill omen upon it... and troublingly, it was not one which Alruna immediately recognized. Further, she watches with a hawk's unblinking gaze as Alfdis picks it up... almost as if she had expecting something to happen when he touched it. She furrowed her brow, thinking hard. She was troubled by her own ignorance. She didn't recognize the image on the face of the article, but she knew the sense of foreboding in the back of her mind as well as she knew the songs of her clan. Something truly wretched had happened in these lands. In her internalized mysticism, she seemingly rather forgot the old woman, slowly backing away in a transfixed haze as the others tended to her bedding. She nods and moves to leave without another word, lost in thought, reclaiming her elk antler helm and following after Alfdis... after the pendant...

The wooden beam shatters at the subtle empowered touch of the foxes nose, instantly relieving the pressure on the woman's neck. She's able to push the rest of the wreckage off of herself and runs to assist the others. Rising to your collective feet, the five of you gather in the now ruined courtyard out front of what used to be the Grand Lodge of the Pathfinders. The bolt of molten terror had done a real number on the Lodge, collapsing the roof and multiple walls across the entire complex. Flames and smoke rise up high above the City. The woman who had emerged from the rubble stowed a sword on her hip, re-attached a steel shield to her forearm with a hard snap of it's leather bindings. She looked around at the wreckage as if she wasn't quite sure any of it was real. Green Cloaked Knight   "That was... th-thank you. Little... fox? I... Gods this is horrible..." But her quandary at being saved by a small mammal in the midst of sudden apocalypse was interrupted by another scream and a series of muffled shouts... ...from within the Pathfinder Lodge! "...We have to help them!" The green-cloak woman shouted. She didn't wait - she charged towards the front door and began to slam her shield against the twisted wood, once a passage way but now an obstacle between her and the victims she meant to save.     Even as she worked, another knight clad in shining armour rides past the complex, driving their steed so fast that they looked a blur. In their hand, a horn blasts a specific series of long and short callsKnowledge (Local) or similar roll to determine if you recognize the specific pattern of horn blasts.. After a moment, one, two, three, four more knights blast past the Lodge as well, following hard after the horn-bearer. Soon, the hooves clattering vanishes into the miasma of agonized sounds now emanating from Absalom. Beyond, you can hear what sounds like a thousand people shouting a thousand different terrified and wishful hopes to the Gods. You're keenly aware that the City just past your eye-sight must be gripped by total chaos. Horn-bearer Knight  

Alruna's eyes sweep back and forth over the broken woman, then up to the ceiling, then the eastward wall, then back to the woman. She looked to Hjarlof and gave a small, subtle shake of her head. Nothing. She focused on the wounds... started looking closer at the woman herself rather than the weave between them... looked into her teary eyes and then down to her thinning body... But then, it wasn't magic that caught the young shaman's eye. She restrained a gasp of surprise, and considered how she might move forward without upsetting the woman any further. After some consideration, she reaches up and removes her elk-antler helm, placing it on a side table. Alruna moves to the woman and motions to Ranulf, bidding caution, implying that he take great care in trying to move her. To Alruna's mind, she wasn't quite sure what might "set her off". But he was correct - there was no telling how long she had been here laying in her own filth. Hjarlof had at least been able to lay a hand on her shoulder, and so she took a similar tact. She reaches down and gingerly places her hand on the woman's wrist, not grasping but simply a gentle touch. She carried on where Hjarlof left off, speaking slow and soft; "...fréowíf, we have come here to put a stop to the wickedness, Odin willing. We need your help. Please... do you mind telling us... ...what it is that you have in your hand?"  

I did not see your message, which is weird. No notification? Hm. Umm... I can go check, I think I have an old account I can recover. But I mean... I'm not likely to check it any more or less often than Myth-Weavers and I'm not like, "trained" to check Discord every day, it's not something I am used to using at all. So hopefully I won't forget? I will check and see if I can find the log-in...  

The dwelling before them sets the wyrd-weaver's hair on end. A sense of foreboding nearly upsets Alruna's careful serenity, but she growl's a low wolf-call and grits her teeth through the uncertainty. Alruna's nostrils flare as she enters the pitch blackness of the make-shift infirmary. Before her, a sad scene unfolds as her eyes adjust to the absence of proper light. She makes no move to directly confront the woman, and steps to the side of the bed opposite Hjarlof. She remained silent, her eyes snapping up to the unexpected sound of song escaping the skald's lips. Alruna watches Hjarlof with the quiet intent of a student, unable to fully mask the wonderment in her own eyes as his song brought comfort, seemed to quiet the harshness of the stench, made the room seem just a little less dark and dreary. Be this seiðr, too? Or merely her own playful imagination? Alruna "listens" for some trace Odin's presence even as her eyes sweep over the elder, her true focus on the detection of any malign influence or unwelcome spirits casting ill omens or sickness over the woman.       seiðr Casting Orison "Detect Magic". 1st Round: Presence or absence of magical auras.  

  Oh I am 100% on board with your vision for magic in this low-magic setting. Alruna's "magic" carries little to no visual cues, she enters trances, recites incantations, creates wards against evil spirits that include odd little physical totems and decorations she might hang off her comrade's clothing. It's also my intent with her selection of spells and hexes, all of which are designed to inspire her allies to greatness and make her foes terrified beyond comprehension. The most magical thing about her might be her Contact Entity ability, which is meant to represent her ability to ask questions of the Norn. Not something she's likely to even do unless the situation turns more dire and again, mostly a ritual/trance situation.

Alruna's initial reaction would be to start trying to discern if she is still under a malign influence a.k.a., Detect Magic. I don't actually have her built as a healer but as a buffer/debuffer, so not much she can do beyond granting her a single temporary hit point... which might make her feel better? More potent healing may be in order, but Alruna cannot help Hjarlof.

You're good. @TheFred get in here we are throwing a dungeons and dragon party. Dragon's already here. Dungeon incoming!!!! :)

  ...my regrets deepen. Let's just be clear, this is neither Nicol Bolas... nor a keeper of dragonballs. xD Hahaha.

So funny enough, I chose this dragon more because of the way he looks than anything else. Also I guess because sub-consciously I associated Bolas with "above average intelligence dragon", which... I've said too much.

Perception check: Success! Almost immediately, someone cries out; one of the other Pathfinder initiates you had been standing beside prior to the attack screams for help... ...beneath the rubble of the collapsed eastern wall. You can even see her; an Elven Knight of some order, whose forest green robes, adorned with silver and golden filigree stuck in your memory, now just barely visible beneath crisscrossing wooden beams and fragmented stone-work. She's pinned against the ground but also against the base of the collapsed wall, her neck bent at an awkward and horrible-looking angle... and she clearly struggles to move at all. But when she speaks, you realize that by some stupid luck that her injuries are not so severe - her voice is strong and clear, but afraid and partially choked off by the support beam leaning hard against her face and the side of her neck. "...H-here! Help! Please! I'm... I think I'm bleeding! Please, help me!!" she cries out, clearly terrified, in pain, and on the edge of full panic.

I was hoping against hope that no one would recognize him haha.

That is my reading. Also the old-school D&D nerd in me is wondering why this negative energy doesn't heal undead...? I thought about it, this lies outside of what I'm hoping for at game start. However, your "wish list" has been updated. :) The DM giveth generously, even as he taketh away.

Hush you, I couldn't find a cooler looking dragon. 😅 Yes, I will waive this prerequisite. It's not REALLY a high psionics game per se, but I also sort of view this as a feat tax so, yeah.

😉Men from lesser clans are often baffled and frightened by the power of the seiðkona. After all, she knows your destiny and might learn the date of your death before it arrives. She might even deny you one fate and place another at your feet. If you cross her. :) A völva is a holy woman among the Hrafning, who are first among clans as keepers of lore and seekers after divine wisdom. Her kind are considered the interpreters of Godswill, speakers of words of Odin's intent. And she does not require a man's law to protect her, because the seiðkona are under the protection of Folkvar the Wise, Jarl of Hrafning. There isn't a man in all of the Raven Lands stupid enough to brazenly assault one of Odin's holy women. Of course, the way Alruna thinks... you're perfectly welcome to try burning her for witchcraft. As far as she's concerned she's also got the full backing of Odin. She isn't shy. 😇🥰 She'll pay the weregild either way! She promises!  

First off, apologies for everyone for the delay in my first post, I just launched my own game earlier this week and then work hit me like a dump truck for Thursday/Friday. Nice thing is, NOW I have the next five days off so lots of time to catch up! Secondly, I think Ranulf and Alruna could simply be clansfolk, they are two individuals who are probably roughly the same age and hail from the same place, so they could just know of each other through the grape-vine, as it were. Alruna is certainly meant to be very well known as a figure within the clan given her status as a religious leader. As for why Alruna was coming to the land, her most likely motivation would be something like "saw a dark omen in her dreams" or some sort of other religious revelation that told her this land was in trouble. Since she already has experience travelling, she would think little of venturing out right away. Either Ranulf could have his own reasons for going, or perhaps, if @Zaathun is open to this idea, he could be there specifically to protect Alruna, again citing her importance given her priestly status. She may or may not be directly paying for his services, would that make sense or be inappropriate?

Alruna stalks the back of the room like a wolf in the shadows. She does not properly introduce herself to the child Jarl, instead watching with suspicion and removed approach. She merely nods as her name is mentioned, before her gaze is drawn to the distant cawing of ravens beyond a nearby window. At first, one might think her disinterested in the affairs before them... ...But in truth, she had been stricken silent and her mind flung from the room by something the youngling Jarl had said. The freemen’s livestock would sicken, crops would fail and people began to mistrust their neighbors. This was a dark omen, indeed. It made Wyrd-Weaver Alruna pensive... and nervous, through she'd never admit it. The shadow that had fallen over this land was a curse, a foul twisting of the fates. Her mind races with the different possibilities of what this might mean. A treacherous abuse of the woven strands of destiny. A betrayal of the will of the Norn, she suspects. Or perhaps a test? No, too much bloodshed. Too much suffering. This was an act of terror, a criminal intent made manifest through a dark form of Seiðr magicks. It was the good fortune of this company that they were equipped to respond in kind. Such were her wyrding ways. As the company rallied and prepared to leave, Alruna snapped back into the now. She would contemplate the meaning of this shadow, but for now she had more immediate preparations to make. She tilts her head, elk-antler helm swaying atop her tightly braided hair. As if she could sense Goran's own suspicions, she emerges from the shadows in the back of the hall and casually places a hand on his shoulder as they pass one another, her own eyes drawn to the old crone and the youngling Jarl. There was some mystery afoot there, but Alruna was scarcely interested in becoming entangled in the web of politics. Instead it was to the entire group that she spoke, as they prepared to leave the hall and set out, her voice somehow both soft and firm, she speaks her first words since departing the long-boat; "The Gods are with us, now and as ever, Ranulf. The past we should seek, but the future is not so hidden from the sight of seiðkona. If the Norn should will it, perhaps the way will be revealed to my eyes. If we are brave and forthright, the path may open before us. Blôdarna's doubts are not without wisdom... but our wyrd is sealed and bound. It is no accident that we have been brought here. Your blades are precisely and exactly what have been called forth, for who else stands among us? It is this company and no other which hath been chosen. "So... Let my blessings call to you. Let valor guide our path. So long as the Seiðr is mine to command, let it be a sign of Odin's approval. I will not let the shadow over-take any of you. Your blades against the flesh and blood of our enemies, my Seiðr against the shadow. Only a failure in our courage will break our cause. So let us be not afraid of the Dark. Let us go and see what glory we might claim for ourselves." Satisfied with her own little speech, she steps back through the door - an escape she'd never ventured far from - and took a deep breath of the tainted air. How she hated being trapped inside, even for a moment. Let the townsfolk huddle in that trap. For her, safety was synonymous with the Hunt.

Okay I am , I apologize for the delay!! I'll hop in the game thread right away too. Thankfully, I am playing the quiet brooding type 😅 EDIT: I see two game threads, am I supposed to be in one or both? Oh, lawl. I get it now. Ok.

You are a Pathfinder. The initiation is over. You have proven yourself, stood in line during the infamous ceremonies... and you now stand among your peers as a newly inducted Pathfinder member. From now on, you will enjoy both the benefits and the occasional responsibilities associated with this most noble Society. A bright future awaits you. As you gather among a crowd of fellow initiates outside of the Grand Lodge of the Pathfinder's Society, a gentle rain falls without concealing the sunlight. You enjoy refreshments provided by smiling servants. Masters of the Society emerge and stand upon the balcony, shaking hands and chatting idly with promising new recruits. As you think upon and discuss your fate as newly minted first-rite members, a shadow blots out the sun. The sudden darkness draws the eyes of an entire City skyward, and what you see far above terrifies every single person in the City.  The silhouette of a dragon, enormous curling muscles bound beneath thick hide and steel scales. It raises it's hands and the City of Absalom groans in primordial earthly protest as a wicked magick grips the land. The dragon concentrates, flicks his dagger sharp claws, each the size of a small tower, just so. The precise movement causes the ground deep beneath the Isle of Kratos to twist ever so slightly... ...and nearly every building in Absalom cracks all at once. Even as cathedrals and restaurants and apartment buildings shed their exteriors in a thunderous shattering and more than a few begin to collapse, the dragon lets out an absolutely feral, unhinged war-cry, a horrid sound caught somewhere between a lion's roar and a great lizard's shrieking call, but with the intensity to almost deafen any listener! The dragon swoops out of the sky with impossible speed, sweeping in a great downward arc and crossing the breadth of all of Absalom in seconds. His draconic breath emerges as a fireball of liquid molten spit, which it hurls down upon one, two, three districts across Absalom. Ballista and arrows fail to reach the creature in it's speed and fury. Then it turns and suddenly, so suddenly, it is above you. Time seems to stand still for a moment. You feel like those massive reptilian eyes could bore a hole clean through you. The fireball shatters the ancient First Lodge of the Pathfinders into ash and memory, and ever so violently tosses you away into the black void of unconsciousness...  Thankfully, it doesn't last. Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see is the dragon. Then, you notice the bodies, fellow Pathfinder initiates no longer among the living. A storm gathers above him with unnatural speed, and you feel specks of rain dotting your face where you lie, your body stiff and agonized. Lightning cracks above. You try to move, but at first, your body fails you. In the distance, you can hear people screaming. The feral dragon perches upon the now smoldering walls of the Great City and begins to speak in a god-like voice that booms off the distant mountains and rattles your teeth in your skull...     "People of Absalom, heed my warning! "The tragedy you face today is a consequence of your apathy and your sins, for the witless leaders you have mindlessly left, festering and corrupted, to run the high affairs of your lives. Hear my shrieking draconic roar, witness my absolute and ruthless protest! See me, and know that I am a God to you pathetic worms. I have come to cast judgement on this foul, rotten corpse of a City. Judgement upon you, for all of your many failures." "For countless eons, my species and I have watched your ever-increasing affluence... with disgust! Everywhere you and your ilk spread, you bring disorder and disharmony with nature! No more! I have come to bring order to your worthless lives. I have come to tear away from your City the very source of temptation and greed, in order to put this power to it's rightful use." "You have in your possession a stolen treasure, an instrument your puny and treacherous little peoples have never been worthy of! We have witnessed with despair and agony as you have abused this sacred gift for your own meager ends. Producing abominations that have endangered us all. We have watched with hatred and sickening envy as your bastardly kind have cloaked yourselves in false divinity! It comes to an end... now." "You have but one option to spare yourselves. Bring down the ancient wards and binding enchantments." "Disarm the clever traps. Peel away all illusion." "Remove it from the Cathedral..." "...and bring it to me." "...Bring me the sacred Starstone, mantle of divinity, stolen power to which you have no claim. Bring this treasure to me, to where I have made my new home, in the mountains above noble Tar Kuata, across the scorching sands of the Parched Dunes, concealed beyond the haunted Footprints of Ravogug, in beloved lands you call Osirion. Do this, and you will be rewarded." "Fail to obey this command... or at the first hint of any form of resistance or any attempt at vengeance, defiance... and I will annihilate your City and every living soul within it." "In the meantime... I send you but a small portion of my Wrath, to show you but a taste of my vast power. Know that my armies grow by the day. Your lackluster heroics will only lead to doom for all who remain on this island." "...You have ten days." And just as suddenly as this mysterious tyrant appeared, he ascended above with a few flaps of his mighty wings and disappeared into the horizon, obscured by the smoking of the City... ~~~   The Grand First Lodge of the Pathfinder's Society smolders beside you as you struggle to regain your footing. Within, you can hear shouting and screaming. But then again, that's what you hear from the inside of most of the buildings around you. And those down the street. Absalom plunges into sudden chaos. You are knocked from your feet and hurt in some manner by the explosive blast of the Lodge's detonation. ...What do you do?    Beorn Thacker You take 1d4+1 points of non-lethal damage and are knocked prone from the explosion of the Pathfinder Lodge. Roll this in your opening post. Furthermore, your legs are trapped under a heavy wooden beam, preventing any movement. While you're certain your legs are not broken, it is very painful and just heavy enough that you find it seemingly impossible to move. You can attempt some sort of strength check, call for help, or use some sort of ability to try and free yourself (strength check, DC 18) Greyal Devrin You take 1d4+1 points of non-lethal damage and are knocked prone by the concussive blast of the dragon's fireball. Roll this in your opening post. Furthermore, by your dumb luck, a piece of burning wood from the once-proud walls of the Lodge lands squarely on your chest, dealing an additional 1 point of fire damage each round until it is removed (strength check, DC 12) and making it impossible to stand up until you do so. Percival Aquila You take 1d4+1 points of non-lethal damage as you are tossed from the balcony of the Lodge. Roll this in your opening post. You come to your senses prone and face-down in the muck. The fall has also left you stunned for one round. The recent rain has turned the underside of the lawn into mush, of which you just ate a solid mouthful. (No save, tastes bad) Rionna Yuna You take 1d4+1 points of non-lethal damage and are knocked prone as the wall beside you explodes outwards, violently tossing you over the nearby fence. Roll this in your opening post. The impact of the fence on your rib-cage inflicts an additional 1 point of lethal damage. Furthermore, a piece of shrapnel from the wooden wall is now embedded firmly in your side, dealing an additional 1 point of lethal damage now and every turn that it isn't removed (Heal check DC 10, or healing magic).    

Well, now that I've chosen characters... I may be willing to fudge these numbers. A little. It was more to make the sort of general expectations clear. But if what you're looking for is like, just over the limit, now, we can talk. No promises though lol.

I definitely did... something. Did it work?

Chatter between players outside of the game, goes here. Welcome, everyone!

Since this is the game announcements thread, it only makes sense to use the opening post to announce the PCs for this run of The Dragon's Demand 2. It goes without saying but I'll say it anyways; thank for you all of the submissions. Some of the ideas you guys put forward are worthy of their own book series. I hope you save the concepts for a rainy day! Just because I did not accept you does not mean I didn't like your character or that you did something wrong, nothing like that. Ultimately, I fought against myself all weekend, oscillating between 4 to 6 players every few hours. Every possible permutation. At the end of the day, I decided to restrain myself, stick to my original plan of only having four PCs, and went with a Party that I felt had a sort of "maximized hero arc" where the differences between who they are now and who this struggle could transform them into, would be most starkly contrasted. Of course, this is Golarion & Pathfinder, a fundamentally mid-to-high magic fantasy setting. Whether you're a fighter or a wizard, anyone living on Golarion desires the power to protect themselves and those they care about, and in that spirit we started at the level and with the rules that we did. Your standard random individual pulled off the street probably knows at LEAST a cantrip or two, or might have a dagger hidden on them, so on and so forth. That's just normal life, in the rough world of Golarion. But these characters, I believe, will have the "steepest" character arcs, taking them from average joes to super heroes over the course of our adventure. Okay, here goes. Thanks again. For those of you who were accepted, I'm going to ask EACH of you specific questions designed to further expand your backstories as well as help me get a sense of what sort of adventure YOU are truly looking for. Okay, bless your faces. THE DRAGON'S DEMAND II THE CAST Greyal Devrin, Cursed Pistolero By @Evendur So... Pretty damn metal character idea, added a much-needed high-fantasy character with genuine super-powers and a terrible personal burden, someone who can blossom into a proper super-hero towards the end of the story. The depiction of the chain-devil in the gun was a great bit of embracing the creative liberty on offer in order to explain the source of your powers. The build is just straight-up unique and tightly themed, which is really something I wanted to see in the Party. You've got high single-target damage potential, especially later on. Lots for a DM to play with.  Rionna Yuna - Incanting Vitalist By @Steel Warrior A simple yet intriguing backstory with a hint of tragedy, a character spurred towards adventure by the necessity of change. I was happy to see this specific build because I wanted a healer on the team, but not one with limitless divine power Clerics put on offer. Although this build still sets Rionna on a powerful trajectory, at the beginning of the game I see a character with a strong flexibility rather than maximized power. She can adapt to different situations and has some specificity over the exact details when it comes to healing... she's nicely balanced and has plenty of options outside of healing, although I will acknowledge, she's a pretty potent healer at this level, too. Plus, Nine Tail Inheritor. Neat. Percival Aquila - Sword & Pistol, maneuvers, veils and spheres By @Casual Viking Thinks he's Lawful Good; actually Lawful Neutral and a douche. Got a chuckle from me. I'm hoping we can play with that a bit since he's clearly still got some "good" and "heroic" potential. I like the build, Akashic Magic mixed with a spheres blended class, but encased with heavy armour which I have seen a lot less of. A little gishy I suppose, and certainly very powerful (I see at 3rd level a teleporting, gun and sword wielding nightmare in heavy armour, run for your life) but I appreciated the straight-forward "I did some pretty awesome stuff and so now I'm a Pathfinder" pitch and the no-nonsense approach to problem solving, perhaps to the point of fault? :) Regardless, the build sets you up for being one heck of a highly mobile tank unit, and I'm okay with that. The Rajah side adds team buffs and other tricks that will help make him a solid unit within the Party. Beorn Thacker, Farmer By @TheFred I found my own reaction odd at first, but I just, I really liked the idea of just... local farm boy. Period. Tough farm boy with latent, untapped psychic potential, sure, but a fish out of water when it comes to proper adventuring or being threatened by dragons, without a doubt. But this character also adds a wonderful element of an ordinary local who just cares about his home and maybe his "people" in a much more simple and easy-to-relate-to fashion. His power level being related to just being a person who lives in a fantasy setting just so happened to be in line with how I see things as a GM.  Also, the darker part of me laughed pretty hard after reading, "he finds himself travelling to the big city for the first time [...] but at least there won't be winged monsters to worry about!" because just... hard cut from that narration to the fireball landing right beside Beorn. Sorry, not sorry.   And... that's it! That's our Party. Thanks one more time to everyone else who applied, and I will see you on the Weave. For those of you who were accepted... You can pre-empt the upcoming questioning by adding anything else you can think of to your back story. It can just be more fluff on what's already there, or a potential character hook for later. Or it could just provide addition insight into the daily life of your character, or perhaps highlight their (recent?) arrival in Great Absalom. What does becoming a Pathfinder really mean to you? What are you after in life? That sort of angle. We will jump into the opening of the story very soon! Thanks again everyone!  

I'm thinking. lol, I did say today is the day! I'll have a post up today with an update/announcement.