Yeaaah. Well, I'm not all that surprised to know you're a necrophile. But explain to me how I'm the 'troll' here when you're throwing a hissy fit like a preteen over a little server issue?
I have nothing to do here because this is a waste of my time good bye young padawon
Yeaaah. Well, I'm not all that surprised to know you're a necrophile. But explain to me how I'm the 'troll' here when you're throwing a hissy fit like a preteen over a little server issue?
Hey All - We are making positive progress on the issue but still have some remaining tasks to complete before the issue is completely resolved. Hope to have good news for you soon!
is what it says on facebook now
I would like to thank this poster for USEFULL information.
oooh I never played the Champions PnP game, lets do that now over the forums! :biggrin:
Heck that's why I gave the MMO a chance...though...you don't want to start a comparison now because balance and flexibility in a PnP is 100x more than an MMO can achieve. ;P
"The stairway goes deeper into darkness from the sinkhole above, already cast in shadow. As your feet take the steps, one by one, a dim echo of the *scritch scritch* noise of loose stoney earth under your boots reaches your ears. By the time you've reached the bottom of the stairway, the only significant light comes from the torch in your hands. As your eyes strain in the dim light, you can make out a decorative chamber, built with careful precision, and despite its cracked fascade, obvious tells of its age, still appears to be level and hale. There are three doors in this chamber, one on what appears to be the center of each wall apart from the one holding the staircase you just descended. What do you do?"
"The stairway goes deeper into darkness from the sinkhole above, already cast in shadow. As your feet take the steps, one by one, a dim echo of the *scritch scritch* noise of loose stoney earth under your boots reaches your ears. By the time you've reached the bottom of the stairway, the only significant light comes from the torch in your hands. As your eyes strain in the dim light, you can make out a decorative chamber, built with careful precision, and despite its cracked fascade, obvious tells of its age, still appears to be level and hale. There are three doors in this chamber, one on what appears to be the center of each wall apart from the one holding the staircase you just descended. What do you do?"
As Eaingsoup prepares to check for traps, Gradii snorts derisively before duplicating himself and using his clones to open all three doors. The door on the left wall (Which for ease of reference we will say is west) turns out disasterously; as Gradii opens it, there is a haunting metallic *Twang* noise; the hidden crossbow may have been old but it was still adequate to serve its purpose. Gradii's west clone drops with a surprised look on his face, still fingering the fletching of the bolt protruding from just below his sternum. (Trap attack roll 21, damage 9 piercing.)
"The stairway goes deeper into darkness from the sinkhole above, already cast in shadow. As your feet take the steps, one by one, a dim echo of the *scritch scritch* noise of loose stoney earth under your boots reaches your ears. By the time you've reached the bottom of the stairway, the only significant light comes from the torch in your hands. As your eyes strain in the dim light, you can make out a decorative chamber, built with careful precision, and despite its cracked fascade, obvious tells of its age, still appears to be level and hale. There are three doors in this chamber, one on what appears to be the center of each wall apart from the one holding the staircase you just descended. What do you do?"
*Hands over game master responsibilities to you*
Lukas Pliskin, aka Wildfire the freelance adventurer often employed by the US government, gently swung the torch around to gaze upon the edifice of this interesting underground structure. The young man found the decorative nature of the sturdy stone fascinating, but was admittedly unable to translate much of it from a simple examination, unfamiliar with the symbolism and lacking proper lighting. Oh well, he was here to explore the chambers not explain any of it. He'd leave that to the science teams approaching behind him. He turned away, looking to each of the doors curiously, then turned on his heels, making his choice.
He entered the door on the wall left of the stairwell.
Lukas Pliskin, aka Wildfire the freelance adventurer often employed by the US government, gently swung the torch around to gaze upon the edifice of this interesting underground structure. The young man found the decorative nature of the sturdy stone fascinating, but was admittedly unable to translate much of it from a simple examination, unfamiliar with the symbolism and lacking proper lighting. Oh well, he was here to explore the chambers not explain any of it. He'd leave that to the science teams approaching behind him. He turned away, looking to each of the doors curiously, then turned on his heels, making his choice.
He entered the door on the wall left of the stairwell.
Gingerly, you step over the fallen body of Gradii's clone; since he can't rejoin that one, it'll affect his max hit points until the following day. Polish mine sweepers CAN be effective, though, you ponder, as you peer into the hallway beyond, where a metal wire leads from the open door to a crossbow that was hastily staked down into the ground about ten feet off. Beyond it, you see a thin haze of dust rising still from the agitated weapon, dust that smells of long unused chambers, and stale air. The corridor continues further than you can see by the light of your torch, at least forty feet.
Gingerly, you step over the fallen body of Gradii's clone; since he can't rejoin that one, it'll affect his max hit points until the following day. Polish mine sweepers CAN be effective, though, you ponder, as you peer into the hallway beyond, where a metal wire leads from the open door to a crossbow that was hastily staked down into the ground about ten feet off. Beyond it, you see a thin haze of dust rising still from the agitated weapon, dust that smells of long unused chambers, and stale air. The corridor continues further than you can see by the light of your torch, at least forty feet.
I start forward, then wonder why I'm using a torch and put it away, pulling out a maglite (the kind that doubles as a billy club) and continue on, wary of the fact that there are traps still active here. I try to watch where I'm putting my feet.
No, but it does enhance your ability to bend the laws of physics to renew your super powers.
I suppose now would be a good time to pick a super power, everyone? Gradii already has self duplication; a single duplicate reduces his max hit points by 1 until it rejoins him, it has half his max hit points at normal health, he cannot reduce his own health below half max in this fashion. Dead clones cannot be rejoined (As demonstrated).
I start forward, then wonder why I'm using a torch and put it away, pulling out a maglite (the kind that doubles as a billy club) and continue on, wary of the fact that there are traps still active here. I try to watch where I'm putting my feet.
*roll* I try to move forward twenty feet.
The maglite is much better; you have no idea why you were using a torch in the first place. Must have been because of that creepy old guy atop the sinkhole handing them out for free ("Maximum of one per person! good "luck!" he he he!"). The maglite illuminates the hallway much better (+2 circumstance bonus to Spot/Search checks, deliberately announced you were looking ahead, therefore a search check. Die roll is 15.) You do notice what appears from this distance to be a dwarf skeleton propped up on the far end of the corridor, about fifty feet on. The mail he wears is old and corroded. You are only 20 feet into the hall, now.
(My character has no powers except for martial arts and weapons training (non-military). I'll list his equipment though!
1 maglite flashlight
1 9mm Browning HP
2 spare clips of ammo
1 length of rope and attached hook *thirty feet*
4 energy bars
1 hunting knife, seven inch blade
The maglite is much better; you have no idea why you were using a torch in the first place. Must have been because of that creepy old guy atop the sinkhole handing them out for free ("Maximum of one per person! good "luck!" he he he!"). The maglite illuminates the hallway much better (+2 circumstance bonus to Spot/Search checks, deliberately announced you were looking ahead, therefore a search check. Die roll is 15.) You do notice what appears from this distance to be a dwarf skeleton propped up on the far end of the corridor, about fifty feet on. The mail he wears is old and corroded. You are only 20 feet into the hall, now.
I regard the dwarf skeleton, eying it and looking for what might have caused the dwarf's death, though I suspect another trap. I advance cautiously again.
*roll* 14 plus the circumstance bonus, 16. I attempt to move forward another twenty feet.
(My character has no powers except for martial arts and weapons training (non-military). I'll list his equipment though!
1 maglite flashlight
1 9mm Browning HP
2 spare clips of ammo
1 length of rope and attached hook *thirty feet*
4 energy bars
1 hunting knife, seven inch blade
Objections?)
Martial arts weapons training grants you the Improved Unarmed Combat feat (Allows you to deal normal damage if you wish without penalty with unarmed attacks).
Going with the d20 modern 9mm Browning; by DM fiat I'll say it's the 3s variant. 2d6 piercing, 30 foot range increments, 13 round box clip.
I regard the dwarf skeleton, eying it and looking for what might have caused the dwarf's death, though I suspect another trap. I advance cautiously again.
*roll* 14 plus the circumstance bonus, 16. I attempt to move forward another twenty feet.
Alright, on a 16, your Heal check isn't really necessary- judging by the huge rent in his tabbard and the torn open links in his mail near the ground, it looks as though he bled out from a massive torso wound, and given that there's not much left but bones, it occurs to you that much of the dust in here is probably desiccated dwarf. If he was trying to get to the door he's leaning up against, good for him. If he was trying to get through the door, well, his efforts weren't quite successful.
Alright, on a 16, your Heal check isn't really necessary- judging by the huge rent in his tabbard and the torn open links in his mail near the ground, it looks as though he bled out from a massive torso wound, and given that there's not much left but bones, it occurs to you that much of the dust in here is probably desiccated dwarf. If he was trying to get to the door he's leaning up against, good for him. If he was trying to get through the door, well, his efforts weren't quite successful.
((Thank you))
I wince slightly, guessing that something pretty nasty had slashed at the dwarf judging from the damage to his armor and tabard, but time and decay have denied me the chance to verify this. Oh well, nothing for it, but the door catches my curiosity and I advance the remaining distance towards it. I examine the door for its opening mechanism and any kind of traps. I'm no expert in setting or finding traps, but I have some experience in them.
I wince slightly, guessing that something pretty nasty had slashed at the dwarf judging from the damage to his armor and tabard, but time and decay have denied me the chance to verify this. Oh well, nothing for it, but the door catches my curiosity and I advance the remaining distance towards it. I examine the door for its opening mechanism and any kind of traps. I'm no expert in setting or finding traps, but I have some experience in them.
*rolls for checking for traps* 10
The doorknob is old, and slightly off from ninety degrees relative to the door itself. A discoloration in the doorknob catches your eyes, but after a moment of closer perusal you realize it's just the age of the thing. You're no expert at trap finding and dismantling, though. It'd be great if Eaingsoup were here, as it appears to be his thing, but he's still paralyzed back at the entrance to the hallway, staring at the corpse of a clone in abject shock. He might need a doctor but he doesn't appear to be any sort of useful until he moves again.
Edit: You don't believe the door to be trapped. You can't find anything to indicate it.
The doorknob is old, and slightly off from ninety degrees relative to the door itself. A discoloration in the doorknob catches your eyes, but after a moment of closer perusal you realize it's just the age of the thing. You're no expert at trap finding and dismantling, though. It'd be great if Eaingsoup were here, as it appears to be his thing, but he's still paralyzed back at the entrance to the hallway, staring at the corpse of a clone in abject shock. He might need a doctor but he doesn't appear to be any sort of useful until he moves again.
I still eye the old door with great distrust and paranoia, knowing just because I can't find an obvious trap it isn't there. Cursing Eaing for his inability to deal with being 1/3 dead, I instead decide to step just right of the door at an angle and raise my flashlight at it. Then, I left and throw my booted foot at the door in a hard front kick, confident in my strength to deal with the aged thing. I'm trying to stand just out of the door's opening so I avoid any traps aimed at someone who'd be opening the door directly in front of them.
I still eye the old door with great distrust and paranoia, knowing just because I can't find an obvious trap it isn't there. Cursing Eaing for his inability to deal with being 1/3 dead, I instead decide to step just right of the door at an angle and raise my flashlight at it. Then, I left and throw my booted foot at the door in a hard front kick, confident in my strength to deal with the aged thing. I'm trying to stand just out of the door's opening so I avoid any traps aimed at someone who'd be opening the door directly in front of them.
Heaving a decent kick at the door yields a satisfying crunch. The wood may have been pretty solid at one point, but now it's kind of brittle. A nice, vertical crack appears from about half way up the door and reaches all the way up to the frame. From the crack, a jagged splinter of wood juts out about eight inches. By your guess, another kick might just do it.
Heaving a decent kick at the door yields a satisfying crunch. The wood may have been pretty solid at one point, but now it's kind of brittle. A nice, vertical crack appears from about half way up the door and reaches all the way up to the frame. From the crack, a jagged splinter of wood juts out about eight inches. By your guess, another kick might just do it.
I steady my stance once more and, deciding one more kick better do the job, spin on one foot and launch out a side-kick at the door again, trying to time it so I can kick and then back away from the door since my doing this could get accidentally cause me to get in front of it.
I'm not one 3rd dead. not according to the GM's description of my duplication power.
Nope, you are quite correct, your max hit points right now are 9 for you, any clones you make reduce your max by 1, and they have 5 hit points when created. Your normal max is 10. I'm assuming you've reabsorbed your other clones at this point, otherwise your current max is 7.
Incidentally, Sfcody, I'm setting your max hit points at 8, given you are (nominally) a ranged combatant.
I steady my stance once more and, deciding one more kick better do the job, spin on one foot and launch out a side-kick at the door again, trying to time it so I can kick and then back away from the door since my doing this could get accidentally cause me to get in front of it.
With a good solid strike at a slightly better angle- the door was partially bowed inward, now, although you didn't quite realize it at the time- the upper half of the door crashes inwards, although not completely detached from the lower half of the door. The lower half is still hanging by a now thoroughly abused hinge that looks like its better days were somewhere around the time your grandparents were dating, but it holds on like a trooper. The reek of stale air wafts over you; fortitude save please. Your bonus is +3(2 base, 1 con).
With a good solid strike at a slightly better angle- the door was partially bowed inward, now, although you didn't quite realize it at the time- the upper half of the door crashes inwards, although not completely detached from the lower half of the door. The lower half is still hanging by a now thoroughly abused hinge that looks like its better days were somewhere around the time your grandparents were dating, but it holds on like a trooper. The reek of stale air wafts over you; fortitude save please. Your bonus is +3(2 base, 1 con).
*roll* 11+3=14
I start to nod in satisfaction, but pause as the odor hits me.
I start to nod in satisfaction, but pause as the odor hits me.
You manage to lock down your lungs and stumble back from the door before you inhale too much of the air; air like that can be horribly poisonous. The small amount that got in your lungs apparently does you no harm, however, and after a bit of fanning the air starts to freshen up- if you can call the transition from "cerberus's used pooper-scooper" to "the devil's moth-chewed (but relatively clean) underwear" freshening in any way. You think it's fairly safe to breathe, after a couple minutes.
I'm enjoying this, but I'm fighting an upper respiratory infection and am exhausted. I think I'll call it a night. Sorry I couldn't finish the crawl for you, sfcody.
I'm enjoying this, but I'm fighting an upper respiratory infection and am exhausted. I think I'll call it a night. Sorry I couldn't finish the crawl for you, sfcody.
It's cool, dude (or dudette). Go get some sleep. Sleep tight!
Comments
I have nothing to do here because this is a waste of my time good bye young padawon
Don't bother feeding the actual trolls, sparkle.
hey kid im not the 1 trolling sparkle is
*gets out pen, paper, and his bag of dice*
I would like to thank this poster for USEFULL information.
Heck that's why I gave the MMO a chance...though...you don't want to start a comparison now because balance and flexibility in a PnP is 100x more than an MMO can achieve. ;P
*Eyes light up, then gets a devious smile.*
"The stairway goes deeper into darkness from the sinkhole above, already cast in shadow. As your feet take the steps, one by one, a dim echo of the *scritch scritch* noise of loose stoney earth under your boots reaches your ears. By the time you've reached the bottom of the stairway, the only significant light comes from the torch in your hands. As your eyes strain in the dim light, you can make out a decorative chamber, built with careful precision, and despite its cracked fascade, obvious tells of its age, still appears to be level and hale. There are three doors in this chamber, one on what appears to be the center of each wall apart from the one holding the staircase you just descended. What do you do?"
Search for traps and then for secret doors. ;P
As Eaingsoup prepares to check for traps, Gradii snorts derisively before duplicating himself and using his clones to open all three doors. The door on the left wall (Which for ease of reference we will say is west) turns out disasterously; as Gradii opens it, there is a haunting metallic *Twang* noise; the hidden crossbow may have been old but it was still adequate to serve its purpose. Gradii's west clone drops with a surprised look on his face, still fingering the fletching of the bolt protruding from just below his sternum. (Trap attack roll 21, damage 9 piercing.)
*Hands over game master responsibilities to you*
Lukas Pliskin, aka Wildfire the freelance adventurer often employed by the US government, gently swung the torch around to gaze upon the edifice of this interesting underground structure. The young man found the decorative nature of the sturdy stone fascinating, but was admittedly unable to translate much of it from a simple examination, unfamiliar with the symbolism and lacking proper lighting. Oh well, he was here to explore the chambers not explain any of it. He'd leave that to the science teams approaching behind him. He turned away, looking to each of the doors curiously, then turned on his heels, making his choice.
He entered the door on the wall left of the stairwell.
Gingerly, you step over the fallen body of Gradii's clone; since he can't rejoin that one, it'll affect his max hit points until the following day. Polish mine sweepers CAN be effective, though, you ponder, as you peer into the hallway beyond, where a metal wire leads from the open door to a crossbow that was hastily staked down into the ground about ten feet off. Beyond it, you see a thin haze of dust rising still from the agitated weapon, dust that smells of long unused chambers, and stale air. The corridor continues further than you can see by the light of your torch, at least forty feet.
After about a pound and a half, you start to feel ill, stuffed. You're only a level 1, mister. ^_~
I start forward, then wonder why I'm using a torch and put it away, pulling out a maglite (the kind that doubles as a billy club) and continue on, wary of the fact that there are traps still active here. I try to watch where I'm putting my feet.
*roll* I try to move forward twenty feet.
No, but it does enhance your ability to bend the laws of physics to renew your super powers.
I suppose now would be a good time to pick a super power, everyone? Gradii already has self duplication; a single duplicate reduces his max hit points by 1 until it rejoins him, it has half his max hit points at normal health, he cannot reduce his own health below half max in this fashion. Dead clones cannot be rejoined (As demonstrated).
The maglite is much better; you have no idea why you were using a torch in the first place. Must have been because of that creepy old guy atop the sinkhole handing them out for free ("Maximum of one per person! good "luck!" he he he!"). The maglite illuminates the hallway much better (+2 circumstance bonus to Spot/Search checks, deliberately announced you were looking ahead, therefore a search check. Die roll is 15.) You do notice what appears from this distance to be a dwarf skeleton propped up on the far end of the corridor, about fifty feet on. The mail he wears is old and corroded. You are only 20 feet into the hall, now.
1 maglite flashlight
1 9mm Browning HP
2 spare clips of ammo
1 length of rope and attached hook *thirty feet*
4 energy bars
1 hunting knife, seven inch blade
Objections?)
I regard the dwarf skeleton, eying it and looking for what might have caused the dwarf's death, though I suspect another trap. I advance cautiously again.
*roll* 14 plus the circumstance bonus, 16. I attempt to move forward another twenty feet.
Martial arts weapons training grants you the Improved Unarmed Combat feat (Allows you to deal normal damage if you wish without penalty with unarmed attacks).
Going with the d20 modern 9mm Browning; by DM fiat I'll say it's the 3s variant. 2d6 piercing, 30 foot range increments, 13 round box clip.
Alright, on a 16, your Heal check isn't really necessary- judging by the huge rent in his tabbard and the torn open links in his mail near the ground, it looks as though he bled out from a massive torso wound, and given that there's not much left but bones, it occurs to you that much of the dust in here is probably desiccated dwarf. If he was trying to get to the door he's leaning up against, good for him. If he was trying to get through the door, well, his efforts weren't quite successful.
((Thank you))
I wince slightly, guessing that something pretty nasty had slashed at the dwarf judging from the damage to his armor and tabard, but time and decay have denied me the chance to verify this. Oh well, nothing for it, but the door catches my curiosity and I advance the remaining distance towards it. I examine the door for its opening mechanism and any kind of traps. I'm no expert in setting or finding traps, but I have some experience in them.
*rolls for checking for traps* 10
The doorknob is old, and slightly off from ninety degrees relative to the door itself. A discoloration in the doorknob catches your eyes, but after a moment of closer perusal you realize it's just the age of the thing. You're no expert at trap finding and dismantling, though. It'd be great if Eaingsoup were here, as it appears to be his thing, but he's still paralyzed back at the entrance to the hallway, staring at the corpse of a clone in abject shock. He might need a doctor but he doesn't appear to be any sort of useful until he moves again.
Edit: You don't believe the door to be trapped. You can't find anything to indicate it.
I still eye the old door with great distrust and paranoia, knowing just because I can't find an obvious trap it isn't there. Cursing Eaing for his inability to deal with being 1/3 dead, I instead decide to step just right of the door at an angle and raise my flashlight at it. Then, I left and throw my booted foot at the door in a hard front kick, confident in my strength to deal with the aged thing. I'm trying to stand just out of the door's opening so I avoid any traps aimed at someone who'd be opening the door directly in front of them.
Heaving a decent kick at the door yields a satisfying crunch. The wood may have been pretty solid at one point, but now it's kind of brittle. A nice, vertical crack appears from about half way up the door and reaches all the way up to the frame. From the crack, a jagged splinter of wood juts out about eight inches. By your guess, another kick might just do it.
I steady my stance once more and, deciding one more kick better do the job, spin on one foot and launch out a side-kick at the door again, trying to time it so I can kick and then back away from the door since my doing this could get accidentally cause me to get in front of it.
Nope, you are quite correct, your max hit points right now are 9 for you, any clones you make reduce your max by 1, and they have 5 hit points when created. Your normal max is 10. I'm assuming you've reabsorbed your other clones at this point, otherwise your current max is 7.
Incidentally, Sfcody, I'm setting your max hit points at 8, given you are (nominally) a ranged combatant.
With a good solid strike at a slightly better angle- the door was partially bowed inward, now, although you didn't quite realize it at the time- the upper half of the door crashes inwards, although not completely detached from the lower half of the door. The lower half is still hanging by a now thoroughly abused hinge that looks like its better days were somewhere around the time your grandparents were dating, but it holds on like a trooper. The reek of stale air wafts over you; fortitude save please. Your bonus is +3(2 base, 1 con).
*roll* 11+3=14
I start to nod in satisfaction, but pause as the odor hits me.
You manage to lock down your lungs and stumble back from the door before you inhale too much of the air; air like that can be horribly poisonous. The small amount that got in your lungs apparently does you no harm, however, and after a bit of fanning the air starts to freshen up- if you can call the transition from "cerberus's used pooper-scooper" to "the devil's moth-chewed (but relatively clean) underwear" freshening in any way. You think it's fairly safe to breathe, after a couple minutes.
It's cool, dude (or dudette). Go get some sleep. Sleep tight!
You too, bro.
look into the fact that the game is increasingly glitching out peoples USB ports, causing their
mouses to become unread. This is a common thing. Myself and many people experience it
quite a bit during any given session.