RP Thread. Its D&D mixed with shitposting. Classic (flexible) rules, and more autism than you could shake a whole group of autists at, even if you did so autistically. New players area always welcome, whether continuing, one-time, or 'just shitposting'.
Welcome back to the ahem 'Bathhouse', a progressive thread that I'm sure plenty of anons wish would just fucking die already. What, its true,....
This particular beginning is heavily seasoned with enthusiasm and delight. Hot on the heels of killing a bunch of We Wuz, the party almost shattered for several reasons, both in-game and out. In spite of it all, the characters continue on their quest to do,... well,... stuff.
Trumpaladin has been gifted a quest from Lord John Elway. Infernius has been gifted a quest from the Fuhrer, Tracy wants to stab more shit, Torcuil is beginning to get clever with his use of Snek not like that you perv and Thez is thanking her lucky stars that she even exists anymore.
/vx/ - Videogames and Paranormal
1310 replies and 140 files omitted.
>>47776
Trump is still with the party yes?
"Uhm,... can I ask you something?" Thez asks, attempting nonchalance, but failing cuz Trump's sense motive is absurd. She wants something.
>>47778
Both canon and ITT, I'm going with "no". I allowed it for Fae cuz otherwise she's cannon fodder, but Tracy is already more than uber.
>>47779
Taking a 0 level commits the character to advancing in that level upon next level advancement, which may have its own variety of consequences.
Trump is still with the party yes?
"Uhm,... can I ask you something?" Thez asks, attempting nonchalance, but failing cuz Trump's sense motive is absurd. She wants something.
>>47778
Both canon and ITT, I'm going with "no". I allowed it for Fae cuz otherwise she's cannon fodder, but Tracy is already more than uber.
>>47779
Taking a 0 level commits the character to advancing in that level upon next level advancement, which may have its own variety of consequences.
Now for the part you're all going to like (mostly).
When it comes to skill checks, there's an optional rule I've been employing liberally without saying anything.
Any time a character is making a skill check against a DC that is -20 or more of their rank, they can opt to take a 10 on their dice roll as long as they are not engaged in combat. The idea is that the task of so simple compared to their developed skill that they could do it with their eyes closed. Tying one's shoes would be a DC1 rope use check, where its so basic that the chance of failure is nil.
When it comes to skill checks, there's an optional rule I've been employing liberally without saying anything.
Any time a character is making a skill check against a DC that is -20 or more of their rank, they can opt to take a 10 on their dice roll as long as they are not engaged in combat. The idea is that the task of so simple compared to their developed skill that they could do it with their eyes closed. Tying one's shoes would be a DC1 rope use check, where its so basic that the chance of failure is nil.
>>47782
"Do you,... still have that robe with all the pockets? I was thinking,... if you weren't using it,... I mean if you are using it then forget I said anything. But if you're not,... I don't know,... maybe you'd consider trading for something?"
"Do you,... still have that robe with all the pockets? I was thinking,... if you weren't using it,... I mean if you are using it then forget I said anything. But if you're not,... I don't know,... maybe you'd consider trading for something?"
GM, can you answer that question about the Hecatoncheires?
>>47784
What's the DC for tying someone else's shoes together?
>>47784
What's the DC for tying someone else's shoes together?
>>47785
"Yes, I believe it's on Fae's bags. I placed most of Kiynen's horde in it, so hold on while I get it and remove those items"
"Yes, I believe it's on Fae's bags. I placed most of Kiynen's horde in it, so hold on while I get it and remove those items"
>>47787
I think it's only armor that can have Shadow.
…But if not, I'll gladly load Tracy up with magick socks, panties, garters., etc.
I think it's only armor that can have Shadow.
…But if not, I'll gladly load Tracy up with magick socks, panties, garters., etc.
>>47791
>Which part?
The part about the blood-forged weapons.
Is deity blood a special material for craft? Refer to:
>>47417 →
I was wondering if Tracy could use Kefka's body parts to make a special weapon later on, because that monster description implied that it had properties that made it deadly to some monsters.
I thought it'd make a great tempering fluid for an awesome mace or sword.
>Which part?
The part about the blood-forged weapons.
Is deity blood a special material for craft? Refer to:
>>47417 →
I was wondering if Tracy could use Kefka's body parts to make a special weapon later on, because that monster description implied that it had properties that made it deadly to some monsters.
I thought it'd make a great tempering fluid for an awesome mace or sword.
>>47794
Yeah, I thought about that right after I posted it.
Uh...Tracy can buy horses with some of it I guess
Yeah, I thought about that right after I posted it.
Uh...Tracy can buy horses with some of it I guess
>>47793
First off, they're not immune. Heca,... those things regenerate against any weapon other than blood-forged or Good-aligned weapons. For two, those things are OP AF. I'm a little astonished that someone bothered to create them and then make them official.
Having said, maybe but IDK. Its not something I expected to have to consider.
>>47792
Several things. Currently Thez is wearing a simple monk's fighting outfit (a Gi, for the martial artists in the periphery). As a monk, she takes penalties if she wears armor or is otherwise encumbered, but an article like a robe can be utilized without penalties. For two, Thez is a knob about some things, and is planning for carrying all the material components (that she doesn't need) that she'll need as a sorcerer.
First off, they're not immune. Heca,... those things regenerate against any weapon other than blood-forged or Good-aligned weapons. For two, those things are OP AF. I'm a little astonished that someone bothered to create them and then make them official.
Having said, maybe but IDK. Its not something I expected to have to consider.
>>47792
Several things. Currently Thez is wearing a simple monk's fighting outfit (a Gi, for the martial artists in the periphery). As a monk, she takes penalties if she wears armor or is otherwise encumbered, but an article like a robe can be utilized without penalties. For two, Thez is a knob about some things, and is planning for carrying all the material components (that she doesn't need) that she'll need as a sorcerer.
>>47797
Um, okay. What's the rating on her amulet of the mighty fists, and/or does she have an extra lying around?
>>47796
>If I want to take other things
The only reason I thought to hide it was because of the possibility that all of it would fall in the "I take things I don't actually want just because klepto"
Um, okay. What's the rating on her amulet of the mighty fists, and/or does she have an extra lying around?
>>47796
>If I want to take other things
The only reason I thought to hide it was because of the possibility that all of it would fall in the "I take things I don't actually want just because klepto"
>>47797
Since it's the blood of a Chaotic Ebil demigod, I thought it'd make for a ebin murder-mace, maybe with specific powers, if I can find the time for her to work on it.
> I'm a little astonished that someone bothered to create them and then make them official. something I expected to have to consider.
Ikr. Epin-level monsters are terrifying. Some are even rank-0 deities, like Phaethons, Atropals, or Infernals: all apocalypse-tier.
Since it's the blood of a Chaotic Ebil demigod, I thought it'd make for a ebin murder-mace, maybe with specific powers, if I can find the time for her to work on it.
> I'm a little astonished that someone bothered to create them and then make them official. something I expected to have to consider.
Ikr. Epin-level monsters are terrifying. Some are even rank-0 deities, like Phaethons, Atropals, or Infernals: all apocalypse-tier.
>>47798
The amulet is part of her belt and can't be removed, along with the amulet of non-detection. Its an heirloom item associated with mastery of her former/native Monk monastery. She doesn't have an extra, and its +5 (meaning, requiring at least a 15th level caster, and 50 days to fabricate).
>>47799
Just one of those - which aren't unique creatures - could easily walk through most of the Infernal lords. Soros would get his ass handed to him for example.
The amulet is part of her belt and can't be removed, along with the amulet of non-detection. Its an heirloom item associated with mastery of her former/native Monk monastery. She doesn't have an extra, and its +5 (meaning, requiring at least a 15th level caster, and 50 days to fabricate).
>>47799
Just one of those - which aren't unique creatures - could easily walk through most of the Infernal lords. Soros would get his ass handed to him for example.
>>47800
It looks to me like the publications for epic-level monsters, classes and spells were mostly made for high-level campaigns that focused on insane missions, like theomachia or apocalypse-reversal, from what I've gathered. Even the existance of Abominations seems to be put in the game for "let's go kill a literal god" kind of campaigns.
It looks to me like the publications for epic-level monsters, classes and spells were mostly made for high-level campaigns that focused on insane missions, like theomachia or apocalypse-reversal, from what I've gathered. Even the existance of Abominations seems to be put in the game for "let's go kill a literal god" kind of campaigns.
>>47801
Well, the challenge ratings are based off "The level that a 4-player party would theoretically need to be to vanquish". Hecs are 57th? Absurd. Thez only got where she's at because she spent an excessive amount of time soloing and not sharing xp. I can't imagine ranking 4 players to that point, let alone past it.
Well, the challenge ratings are based off "The level that a 4-player party would theoretically need to be to vanquish". Hecs are 57th? Absurd. Thez only got where she's at because she spent an excessive amount of time soloing and not sharing xp. I can't imagine ranking 4 players to that point, let alone past it.
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>>47802
It has superior multi-weapon fighting, and it has a hundred arms. Nothing but an actual god of war, with 50 ranks in Fighter (maybe, if he's lucky) could best it in combat.
It's based off of those mythical ancient greek primordial giants who lived before the gods or even the titans: they could tear mountains in two with their strength.
It has superior multi-weapon fighting, and it has a hundred arms. Nothing but an actual god of war, with 50 ranks in Fighter (maybe, if he's lucky) could best it in combat.
It's based off of those mythical ancient greek primordial giants who lived before the gods or even the titans: they could tear mountains in two with their strength.
>>47803
It's based off of dark and elder things alright, but I don't think Greek mythology is the closest comparison
It's based off of dark and elder things alright, but I don't think Greek mythology is the closest comparison
>>47803
The other ebin monsters are freaky too.
An Atropal is like every abortion every woman ever had, coming back for revenge on the living. Infernals eat Balors and Pit Fiends' faces as an afternoon snack. A Phaethon is like a walking nuclear explosion.
The other ebin monsters are freaky too.
An Atropal is like every abortion every woman ever had, coming back for revenge on the living. Infernals eat Balors and Pit Fiends' faces as an afternoon snack. A Phaethon is like a walking nuclear explosion.
>>47804
>The Hecatoncheires were giant creatures in Greek mythology. Their name means "hundred - handed ones", and apart from a hundred hands of unfathomable strength, they also had fifty heads.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hecatoncheires
>The Hecatoncheires were giant creatures in Greek mythology. Their name means "hundred - handed ones", and apart from a hundred hands of unfathomable strength, they also had fifty heads.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hecatoncheires
>>47803
Right. Meaning, the party would pretty much have to have divine rank of their own in order to concern themselves with it, unless it was used as a Deus Ex Machina-type, story that isn't so much vanquished as it is defeated, sealed, cast into other realms, etc. As a looming (pun intended) threat, sure but as a legit fight? I say again, absurd.
Right. Meaning, the party would pretty much have to have divine rank of their own in order to concern themselves with it, unless it was used as a Deus Ex Machina-type, story that isn't so much vanquished as it is defeated, sealed, cast into other realms, etc. As a looming (pun intended) threat, sure but as a legit fight? I say again, absurd.
>>47808
According to wiki sources, they're the oldest Abominations: born of proto-deities early in the multiverse's history. They're older than most gods, unlike most other Abominations, who are usually the offspring of gods.
According to wiki sources, they're the oldest Abominations: born of proto-deities early in the multiverse's history. They're older than most gods, unlike most other Abominations, who are usually the offspring of gods.
>>47807
Nobully; it could be Lenos, it could be Anongriffonfilly, it could be Sad Alex, Taylor, or any number of possibilities.
>>47809
Again, I'm just seeing something absurd that no reasonable party could/would ever think of actually trying to kill, and if they are I question their creativity as players and that of the GM, as well as the authenticity and legitimacy of their campaign desu.
We were talking about God-granted quests earlier; this is a God quest.
Nobully; it could be Lenos, it could be Anon
>>47809
Again, I'm just seeing something absurd that no reasonable party could/would ever think of actually trying to kill, and if they are I question their creativity as players and that of the GM, as well as the authenticity and legitimacy of their campaign desu.
We were talking about God-granted quests earlier; this is a God quest.
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>>47803
>>47803
>>47809
>>47811
>>47813
For you:
Nyarlathotep . . . the crawling chaos . . . I am the last . . . I will tell the audient void. . . .
I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding apprehension of hideous physical danger; a danger widespread and all-embracing, such a danger as may be imagined only in the most terrible phantasms of the night. I recall that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places. There was a daemoniac alteration in the sequence of the seasons—the autumn heat lingered fearsomely, and everyone felt that the world and perhaps the universe had passed from the control of known gods or forces to that of gods or forces which were unknown.
And it was then that Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. Who he was, none could tell, but he was of the old native blood and looked like a Pharaoh. The fellahin knelt when they saw him, yet could not say why. He said he had risen up out of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries, and that he had heard messages from places not on this planet. Into the lands of civilisation came Nyarlathotep, swarthy, slender, and sinister, always buying strange instruments of glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger. He spoke much of the sciences—of electricity and psychology—and gave exhibitions of power which sent his spectators away speechless, yet which swelled his fame to exceeding magnitude. Men advised one another to see Nyarlathotep, and shuddered. And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished; for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare. Never before had the screams of nightmare been such a public problem; now the wise men almost wished they could forbid sleep in the small hours, that the shrieks of cities might less horribly disturb the pale, pitying moon as it glimmered on green waters gliding under bridges, and old steeples crumbling against a sickly sky.
I remember when Nyarlathotep came to my city—the great, the old, the terrible city of unnumbered crimes. My friend had told me of him, and of the impelling fascination and allurement of his revelations, and I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost mysteries. My friend said they were horrible and impressive beyond my most fevered imaginings; that what was thrown on a screen in the darkened room prophesied things none but Nyarlathotep dared prophesy, and that in the sputter of his sparks there was taken from men that which had never been taken before yet which shewed only in the eyes. And I heard it hinted abroad that those who knew Nyarlathotep looked on sights which others saw not.
It was in the hot autumn that I went through the night with the restless crowds to see Nyarlathotep; through the stifling night and up the endless stairs into the choking room. And shadowed on a screen, I saw hooded forms amidst ruins, and yellow evil faces peering from behind fallen monuments. And I saw the world battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning; struggling around the dimming, cooling sun. Then the sparks played amazingly around the heads of the spectators, and hair stood up on end whilst shadows more grotesque than I can tell came out and squatted on the heads. And when I, who was colder and more scientific than the rest, mumbled a trembling protest about “imposture” and “static electricity”, Nyarlathotep drave us all out, down the dizzy stairs into the damp, hot, deserted midnight streets. I screamed aloud that I was not afraid; that I never could be afraid; and others screamed with me for solace. We sware to one another that the city was exactly the same, and still alive; and when the electric lights began to fade we cursed the company over and over again, and laughed at the queer faces we made.
I believe we felt something coming down from the greenish moon, for when we began to depend on its light we drifted into curious involuntary formations and seemed to know our destinations though we dared not think of them. Once we looked at the pavement and found the blocks loose and displaced by grass, with scarce a line of rusted metal to shew where the tramways had run. And again we saw a tram-car, lone, windowless, dilapidated, and almost on its side. When we gazed around the horizon, we could not find the third tower by the river, and noticed that the silhouette of the second tower was ragged at the top. Then we split up into narrow columns, each of which seemed drawn in a different direction. One disappeared in a narrow alley to the left, leaving only the echo of a shocking moan. Another filed down a weed-choked subway entrance, howling with a laughter that was mad. My own column was sucked toward the open country, and presently felt a chill which was not of the hot autumn; for as we stalked out on the dark moor, we beheld around us the hellish moon-glitter of evil snows. Trackless, inexplicable snows, swept asunder in one direction only, where lay a gulf all the blacker for its glittering walls. The column seemed very thin indeed as it plodded dreamily into the gulf. I lingered behind, for the black rift in the green-litten snow was frightful, and I thought I had heard the reverberations of a disquieting wail as my companions vanished; but my power to linger was slight. As if beckoned by those who had gone before, I half floated between the titanic snowdrifts, quivering and afraid, into the sightless vortex of the unimaginable.
Screamingly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the gods that were can tell. A sickened, sensitive shadow writhing in hands that are not hands, and whirled blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond the worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctified temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness. And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods—the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyarlathotep.
>>47803
>>47809
>>47811
>>47813
For you:
Nyarlathotep . . . the crawling chaos . . . I am the last . . . I will tell the audient void. . . .
I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding apprehension of hideous physical danger; a danger widespread and all-embracing, such a danger as may be imagined only in the most terrible phantasms of the night. I recall that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places. There was a daemoniac alteration in the sequence of the seasons—the autumn heat lingered fearsomely, and everyone felt that the world and perhaps the universe had passed from the control of known gods or forces to that of gods or forces which were unknown.
And it was then that Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. Who he was, none could tell, but he was of the old native blood and looked like a Pharaoh. The fellahin knelt when they saw him, yet could not say why. He said he had risen up out of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries, and that he had heard messages from places not on this planet. Into the lands of civilisation came Nyarlathotep, swarthy, slender, and sinister, always buying strange instruments of glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger. He spoke much of the sciences—of electricity and psychology—and gave exhibitions of power which sent his spectators away speechless, yet which swelled his fame to exceeding magnitude. Men advised one another to see Nyarlathotep, and shuddered. And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished; for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare. Never before had the screams of nightmare been such a public problem; now the wise men almost wished they could forbid sleep in the small hours, that the shrieks of cities might less horribly disturb the pale, pitying moon as it glimmered on green waters gliding under bridges, and old steeples crumbling against a sickly sky.
I remember when Nyarlathotep came to my city—the great, the old, the terrible city of unnumbered crimes. My friend had told me of him, and of the impelling fascination and allurement of his revelations, and I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost mysteries. My friend said they were horrible and impressive beyond my most fevered imaginings; that what was thrown on a screen in the darkened room prophesied things none but Nyarlathotep dared prophesy, and that in the sputter of his sparks there was taken from men that which had never been taken before yet which shewed only in the eyes. And I heard it hinted abroad that those who knew Nyarlathotep looked on sights which others saw not.
It was in the hot autumn that I went through the night with the restless crowds to see Nyarlathotep; through the stifling night and up the endless stairs into the choking room. And shadowed on a screen, I saw hooded forms amidst ruins, and yellow evil faces peering from behind fallen monuments. And I saw the world battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning; struggling around the dimming, cooling sun. Then the sparks played amazingly around the heads of the spectators, and hair stood up on end whilst shadows more grotesque than I can tell came out and squatted on the heads. And when I, who was colder and more scientific than the rest, mumbled a trembling protest about “imposture” and “static electricity”, Nyarlathotep drave us all out, down the dizzy stairs into the damp, hot, deserted midnight streets. I screamed aloud that I was not afraid; that I never could be afraid; and others screamed with me for solace. We sware to one another that the city was exactly the same, and still alive; and when the electric lights began to fade we cursed the company over and over again, and laughed at the queer faces we made.
I believe we felt something coming down from the greenish moon, for when we began to depend on its light we drifted into curious involuntary formations and seemed to know our destinations though we dared not think of them. Once we looked at the pavement and found the blocks loose and displaced by grass, with scarce a line of rusted metal to shew where the tramways had run. And again we saw a tram-car, lone, windowless, dilapidated, and almost on its side. When we gazed around the horizon, we could not find the third tower by the river, and noticed that the silhouette of the second tower was ragged at the top. Then we split up into narrow columns, each of which seemed drawn in a different direction. One disappeared in a narrow alley to the left, leaving only the echo of a shocking moan. Another filed down a weed-choked subway entrance, howling with a laughter that was mad. My own column was sucked toward the open country, and presently felt a chill which was not of the hot autumn; for as we stalked out on the dark moor, we beheld around us the hellish moon-glitter of evil snows. Trackless, inexplicable snows, swept asunder in one direction only, where lay a gulf all the blacker for its glittering walls. The column seemed very thin indeed as it plodded dreamily into the gulf. I lingered behind, for the black rift in the green-litten snow was frightful, and I thought I had heard the reverberations of a disquieting wail as my companions vanished; but my power to linger was slight. As if beckoned by those who had gone before, I half floated between the titanic snowdrifts, quivering and afraid, into the sightless vortex of the unimaginable.
Screamingly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the gods that were can tell. A sickened, sensitive shadow writhing in hands that are not hands, and whirled blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond the worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctified temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness. And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods—the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyarlathotep.
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>blogpost intensifies
Funny story! Apparently I was supposed to work this morning, but due to a miscommunication (rather, my lack of seeking confirmation) I got my first no-call, no-show of my whole LIFE today,.... Also I'm back for the duration (weekend).
Funny story! Apparently I was supposed to work this morning, but due to a miscommunication (rather, my lack of seeking confirmation) I got my first no-call, no-show of my whole LIFE today,.... Also I'm back for the duration (weekend).
>>47826
Its actually not a big deal. I'm on light duty or injury, and I have an absolutely spotless record otherwise (in 3 years I've called in once) and my boss knows it, and lack of communication has never even been a consideration. In fact, while I've neglected it in recent months, I used to have a monthly e-mail correspondence with my boss just because I have serious social anxiety but am full of emergent ideas, many of which have helped to improve and shape aspects of the company's position and performance. For example, I introduced him to Simon Sinek, which has had a tangible impact (I wonder if corporate and foremen might have gone to one of his seminars?) on the overview of the company. I can get away with it scot-free in this case because I'm the fukkin' man at my job
Its actually not a big deal. I'm on light duty or injury, and I have an absolutely spotless record otherwise (in 3 years I've called in once) and my boss knows it, and lack of communication has never even been a consideration. In fact, while I've neglected it in recent months, I used to have a monthly e-mail correspondence with my boss just because I have serious social anxiety but am full of emergent ideas, many of which have helped to improve and shape aspects of the company's position and performance. For example, I introduced him to Simon Sinek, which has had a tangible impact (I wonder if corporate and foremen might have gone to one of his seminars?) on the overview of the company. I can get away with it scot-free in this case because I'm the fukkin' man at my job
*for
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