Pathfinder Recruitment-Greyhawk-Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh-Small Group(Closed)

[National Acrobat]

Desolate and abandoned, the evil alchemist's mansion stands alone on the cliff, looking out towards the sea. Mysterious lights and ghostly hauntings have kept away the people of Saltmarsh, despite rumors of a fabulous forgotten treasure. What is it's sinister secret?

Good morning, this will be (hopefully) the start of a classic Greyhawk Campaign. The Module, U1 The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh is the first in a trilogy, that when completed, can be a gateway to further original Greyhawk Modules set on the Flanaess. Saltmarsh is in extreme southern Keoland, near the Hool Marshes, and it is a typical, small fishing town with a population of around 1,000 souls. The Constable of the Town Watch, Will Stoutly, has been charged with investigating the rumors of the abandoned alchemist's mansion outside of town, but manpower is short, due to most of the militia being requisitioned by the Earl of Seaton, to help with some bullywug issues near the much larger town. So, Will is forced to find three adventurers to assist him in his investigation.

I am looking for 3 pcs.

I will keep recruitment open until 11:59 pm Wednesday December 13.

Characters will start at second level, and will use 20 point buy, core races (unless the story is good enough to permit it). No evil alignments, and Greyhawk in 570 C.Y is a somewhat less-than fantastic place as far as unusual races go. Drow are not known of yet (with the exception of some very old elves that still doubt their existence) and tieflings are also unknown save for the Lands of Iuz, Horned Society and the Great Kingdom. The rural parts of Greyhawk are very superstitious. Should the campaign progress far enough, your pcs may actually be the ones that break the news to the rest of the Oerth about the existence of said creatures and the fact that they walk among you.

Max HP for each level.

Money is 1000gp, and may be spent how you will.

Here is a good link for Greyhawk Deities - https://metzger.obsidianportal.com/wikis/greyhawk-deities-master-list -Obviously some domains will have to be adjusted/introduced for Pathfinder, and I will work with you on that.

Here is a good link for the Human Races of Greyhawk - https://gbttb.obsidianportal.com/wikis/races

Posting- Would prefer at least 2 posts a week from everyone, I myself can run hot and cold depending on time, but I can usually post once a day if not terribly busy.

Smut? Yes, but it's not the focus of the game, that said I prefer to run Fantasy games where the lives of the adventurers is developed, and that includes their down time activities and relationships, so of course it's part of the game, but I'm not a fan of non-con, etc. so that's not part of the game.

The players will be in the Saltmarsh area for several months if all three modules are run, so being from Saltmarsh may not be a bad idea.

If the game gets off of the ground, I will provide a gazeteer of the local area, with Council Member names, businesses, etc. to flesh things out and will incorporate information from accepted characters.

Some Regional Information for those who might be inclined to be from the town itself-- https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=279450.0

That's about it for now. Thanks for your interest.

[Arcanist]

I am in. When do you need character by?

[Florence]

I've been itching for something like this.

I'm too tired to work on something now, but I could start on it after I've slept.

I'm not certain, but I've been kind of craving magic, so expect me to whip up a spellcaster.

I'm thinking maybe a dragon bloodline sorcerer or perhaps a witch. Maybe even a summoner, I've never made one before.

[Drowdeviant]

*plants flag of interest*

[National Acrobat]

I updated the thread with the timeline. Recruitment is open until Wednesday December 13, and I should make selections by Friday December 15.

[Chulanowa]

I thirst constantly for old-school fantasy. Thirst! So I'm totally down. Will probably have something together very soon!

[Florence]

Is there any prefered way for us to handle character sheets? I'm partial to myth-weavers myself.

[National Acrobat]

Is there any prefered way for us to handle character sheets? I'm partial to myth-weavers myself.

No, whatever works for you is fine, as long as everything is visible.

[eBadger]

Awesome, will put together a character.

[Florence]

I'm going for a sorcerer.

I actually just realized that I said maybe witch or summoner after you said only core classes, lol.

Sorry, I was really tired when I wrote that. I was leaning towards sorcerer anyway.

Edit: Oh, you said core RACES. Fuck me, I don't even have tiredness as an excuse now.

(Just to be clear, still going for sorcerer tho)

Edit Edit: By the way, do the different human races have their own languages in addition to common? I'm thinking my sorcerer will be Rhennee.

[National Acrobat]

I'm going for a sorcerer.

I actually just realized that I said maybe witch or summoner after you said only core classes, lol.

Sorry, I was really tired when I wrote that. I was leaning towards sorcerer anyway.

Edit: Oh, you said core RACES. Fuck me, I don't even have tiredness as an excuse now.

(Just to be clear, still going for sorcerer tho)

Edit Edit: By the way, do the different human races have their own languages in addition to common? I'm thinking my sorcerer will be Rhennee.

Yes

Rhopan is the secret cant of the Rhennee. Descended from some non-Oerthly tongue, it has incorporated terms from the criminal argot of many peoples.

[Florence]

https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1423396

There's Florica (I swear I didn't even register how close the name is to my own name until after I was attached to it, lol), it's bare bones atm. I still have to work on her equipment and descriptive stuff, but I have her abilities, skills, feats, spells, etc. sorted out.

Also, how do you want us to handle HP?

[National Acrobat]

https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1423396

There's Florica (I swear I didn't even register how close the name is to my own name until after I was attached to it, lol), it's bare bones atm. I still have to work on her equipment and descriptive stuff, but I have her abilities, skills, feats, spells, etc. sorted out.

Also, how do you want us to handle HP?

Ah, I had forgotten that. I edited the initial post, but max hp for each level.

[InoshimaLance]

Will you like choose 3 players among applicants or 3 pcs was like the minimum?

[National Acrobat]

Will you like choose 3 players among applicants or 3 pcs was like the minimum?

3 players among applicants, 1 pc each.

[Callie Del Noire]

Interesting concept

[National Acrobat]

Character looks good Florence.

Recruitment is open until Wednesday night.

[Ixy]

 

Rowan Riks
Unchained Rogue 2, Human, Chaotic Good

Concept:

Rowan is a classical rogue, focusing her penchant for curiosities and treasure-seeking to a purpose that serves the greater good... With the hopes of enjoying herself in the meantime.

History:

A slight, bright, and friendly girl, Rowan was towered-over by her family of farmers, smithies, and bricklayers... The proverbial runt of the litter, she nonetheless sought to make herself useful despite her propensity for wandering daydreams, inattentive labors, and sloppy chores. 

Her mother's doting over the petite and sickly-seeming "babe" earned Rowan the jealousy of her older sisters, eventually, so Rowan grew to value her private time over games of sport or socializing, making excuses to escape to books she'd squirreled away rather than lift a milk pail or pull potatoes, much less attend a garden dance or watch the seasonal competitions or festivals.

When written adventures wore thin, and she could find no devices with which to tinker around the homestead, Rowan looked longingly toward the horizon, wondering about other mountains and valleys and cities that would dwarf her river village.  Despite her diminutive stature, she was fast and clever, and she managed to sow, reap, and escape a fair share of trouble through her own merit.  She earned a sort of notoriety in her childhood, leading her own little 'bandit gang' of rapscallions from neighboring farms to search out lost cattle in the hills, to stake out rogue foxes that threatened henhouses, to sneak off for overnight forays to 'uncharted' islands to claim as fortresses and hideouts.  They explored caves and wells when they were supposed to gather herbs.  They met up in town and snuck into tavern rooms to spy on travelers.  They traded bits of ephemera from the outside world-- from knives to scraps of blue books to buttons to old locks-- with a stern reverence, holding the lore among their secret circle of would-be adolescent renegades.

As their childhood gave way to teenage years, the other children were carried off from their fantasy world to other pursuits... apprenticeships, betrothals, more intensive chores and labors.... but Rowan was left behind.  Picking at the old rusty locks of abandoned chests, practicing with her pig-iron daggers on the straw-dummies until the sack-cloths could no longer hold.  Her parents no longer sent the youngest to fetch her with nagging, hollow threats of a switching or denied dinners, for she was almost a woman now and her hard-headedness was set... she earned her keep in her own way, but an honest day's "work" in the fields was almost never to be counted for her.  She might bring in a cask of butter or a few coppers for chasing down a debt or finding a runaway daughter, and the only suitors at her father's door for her were either disturbingly lecherous or otherwise questionably motivated.

"Let Rowan be," her mother finally told her father, on the girl's fifteenth birthday when the hearth matters came up-- again.  Of perhaps forcing her to wear a dress or grow out her hair, or learning to cook anything besides a spit-roasted rabbit.  "Rowan's not a plowhand, nor a babe-bearer nor an anvil-pounding brute.  But she knows what's right for 'erself, so let her be."

And that was that. And Rowan Looked to the horizon, to the sunsets and the roads, knowing that her destiny was there somewhere... and she waited for the opportunity...

Then, that fall, bandits arrived.  A small clutch of them, surely, but enough.  They were moving fast, riding stolen horses they'd ridden to near-death, and they came into the river-town with their weapons unbared and their hoods drawn up high.  No one seemed to notice at first, and they seemed content to resupply and move on, but the inkeeper was a shrewd one and knew their coin was from the East-- where word of a robbery had reached a day earlier, and where their description had followed.  Alerting the local defense-- little more than a few ex-soldiers and farmhands-- was enough to set the bandits to a panic, so they sacked the inn and took over the town hall, fearing actual resistance.  Eager to prove herself capable of Independence, Rowan snuck among the rallied militia to face them.  She was promptly captured, along with four other local men, when the prepared, hardened criminals repelled the assault.

When her identity was revealed, she was not only blamed for being a distraction in the attack, but she was subject to immediate... attention by the bandits.  After a few hours of drinking and looting, one might say that "luck" would have it that they feel to fighting each other over her, and left her locked in the cellar of the town hall, which she managed to escape easily during the evening-- long before soldiers could be mustered to attack the hall, and while the squabbling, drunk, and exhausted bandits were still planning their escape.  With the other prisoners, she mounted a counter attack and killed the bandits during the night... in doing so, she may have made herself a hero of sorts, but none could forget that three village men had died in the initial attack, and no matter her role in their failure, the question would always remain if she was to blame somehow.

She left her home some months later, without explanation, but unable to meet the eyes of the township who saw her with equal parts shame for her sacrifice and blame for their lost loved ones. In those eyes there was either hatred or pity... what was a girl doing there, anyway?  Had she brought the pain of her ordeal upon herself?  Why could she not save the three dead?  What had she done to earn their trust before murdering those bandits?  No one dared speak such horrid thoughts-- perhaps they were only questions in her own mind, born of the pain and shame of what she'd endured-- but she would not bear it in such a small town, where every face was familiar and every dead son or father was in every face.  So she left... seeking out some of the great cities of her land, finding experienced mentors to teach her how to apply her ambitions to more actual results. 

Though young yet and minute of stature, her determination is unquestionable.  She fell in with her present company with the same dedication and resourceful hope that has carried her so far, intending to ply her stealth, her knack for locks and traps, and her skill with the blade to achieve some good in a world where, in most senses, she does not fit.  No epic hero, she knows, she hopes only to support her companions through thick and thin, meeting the challenges that arise in Greyhawk's depths where the darkest depths have yet to be plumbed.

Description:

Well under five feet in height and under a hundred pounds in weight, Rowan is petite and compact, dressed in boyish clothes for mobility-- accidentally emphasizing her lean muscle, her tapered waist, and the gentle swell of her hips.  Not especially well-endowed, she's still unmistakeably female unless she actively tries to hide her form under layers of bulky clothes.  Her blonde hair is bobbed short, and she keeps it out of her face by tied leather bands and occasional, haphazard braids.  Her snarky humor and lack of tact makes her a poor negotiator or charmer, but she can manipulate with a clever bluff when she puts her mind to it.  Perhaps a result of her recent issues, she seems to shy away from any sort of leadership role except to try to lead by example or to offer solutions, keeping her mouth shut and her eyes forward more than raising a banner.

Sexuality:

Rowan is attracted to both men and women, but hasn't fully explored her sexuality.  Her self-exploration has been fairly tame, but healthy., but she's known no real, imtimate relationships, with only had a few brief encounters of heavy-petting of a superficial nature to gauge her interests in a lover.  Recent events have turned her solidly against specific acts and situations, but her curiosity and resilience-- though daunted-- won't be silenced.  She will carefully reclaim what was taken from her, when it's right.

[National Acrobat]

Rowan looks very nice!

[HannibalBarca]

Oh wow.  I played D&D starting in 1979, and ran most of my campaigns in the World of Greyhawk, so anything based there is close to my heart.  Problem is--I've never played with Pathfinder, and rarely played anything other than 1st Ed.  I played Neverwinter Nights on my PC, which was 3rd Ed, and liked the system...Pathfinder is pretty much 3.5, isn't it?

Otherwise, I can look up a Pathfinder character sheet and make someone up, and hope to get in.  Greyhawk is too tempting to resist.

[Chulanowa]

I'm going to be cracking out a heavy melee sort; Cavalier, fighter, maybe paladin or Warpriest? At any rate, dude who wears armor and swings a weapon. Just gotta decide on which idea I want to pull off the shelf  ;D

[Grizzly]

I'm interested.

I'm not seeing where it mentions core classes only.  Are we limited to core classes?

[eBadger]

Lady Amanda Caithwaine

Sheet

An honor-bound elven paladin struggling to maintain perpetual optimism in the face of a grim but epic prophecy. 

Solstice holidays were always difficult.  "This is Amanda," my parents would crow, beaming, prideful.  "She's going to be a legendary martyr!"  I was expected to smile, show humility, avoid dancing overmuch (what was the point in courting, after all?) and make cheerful small talk about my impending demise.  "Yes, it's a great honor," I would say, or "No, the prophecy doesn't mention any torture but all the really heroic sagas have some."  I'd listen to the cousins talk about planting orchards and sneak off for a little cry in the pantry.  Aunt Cece always made the best walnut and peach pie, though, so it wasn't all bad."

 

For 300 years it was apples and priests.  True, the oracle announced a few exceptional fates: craftsmen, merchants, a second cousin who wrote silent plays, but the Vale, just a short distance inland from Saltmarsh, was at peace and the folk within were hard working, devout, and peaceful, renowned for their orchards and little else.  So, despite her nominal nobility, when baby Amanda was placed on the blind man's lap her parents hoped a new cider recipe lay in store, or perhaps she'd be the one to finally drain the marsh in the back quarter. 

Instead the oracle pronounced the babe would become a great hero, a legend of her own age and many after, touched by the gods to free their people through selfless martyrdom of her young life. 

The destiny wasn't assured, of course; such prophecies only revealed potential, and required devotion and hard work to achieve.  Still, it was a rather impressive fate and Amanda's parents were reminded of their titles and importance.  Only a few months old, Amanda was the center of family pride and expectations.  If she was, in fact, an exceptional child it was merely to be expected of a role model.  She was admired, envied, celebrated and placed atop a pillar she had no part in making and wasn't entirely sure about.  While everyone else only thought of her coming glory, she struggled with a peculiar, ungrateful hesitance to die. 

Even after decades of weapons tutors, honing her body and spirit through exercise and philosophy, arrayed in the polished arms her grandparents once used, Amanda still struggles to accept her fate; but the call for heroes has come, and Amanda is determined to meet a stoic and honorable end.

Character:  Only 116 years old, Amanda has the svelte, wiry strength unique to the elves, fiery red hair brighter than any human's and deep, crystalline green eyes marked with a sense of sorrow.  She smells of apples, even when none are around, and armor oil, which she always has around.  Soft spoken, focused, self-conscious, dedicated if not confident, she exudes an almost divine sense of gravitas.  One of 13 children, she has a massive family that includes nearly everyone within the small community of the Vale; a modest, puritan settlement both civilized and pastoral, respectful of nature as they shape the forest into wild orchards and living manorhouses.  Amanda is defined by the sense of a dutiful daughter bounded by the expectations of others and struggling to live up to them, despite her misgivings and the sacrifice of her own hopes and dreams. 

Sexuality:  The experiences available to a doomed noblewoman in a religious community are limited.  The inherent expiration dissuades any serious interest and encourages the wrong sort, so Amanda abstained in frustration.  She is bisexual, although the implications of a few pleasant kisses with her cousin Isabelle are still a bit vague.  For now, her love life includes the round handle of her third-best dagger and a somewhat petulant sense that a bit of casual sex shouldn't be bad when it's the only option available. 

[Chulanowa]

Welp, I accidentally wrote a novel.

Name: Galien of Kilner
Race: Human
Class / level: Fighter 2
Sheet: (WIP) https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1424276

Background:
   Galien of Kilner was once just Galen, son of Galen the potter in far-off Waycombe. He never thought too much of it, since the day he could walk he was knee-deep in mud and clay for his father, and as he grew, the muck just grew deeper. Unassuming, calm, peaceful, just the way ma and pa liked it. The trouble came just a two years and a half ago when ma and the other village ladies began sharing knowing looks and having hushed conversations behind Galen's back. Pa said to not worry about it, but Galen knew something was going on.

   Indeed, at the harvest day dance, ma ushered him over to Melibeth, the daughter of Herward the fencer (as in slats, not swords.) Melibeth was a nice girl, and everyone knew she and Galen were a little sweet on each other... but old Herward never let the lad get within speaking distance of his daughter. But now the old man was slapping pa on the back and clacking mugs together... It dawned on Galen then and there; he was betrothed!

   Well, that was all a lot to take in. Melibeth was a pretty girl, a sweet girl and, looking back maybe marrying to her wouldn't have been so bad. But right then, right there? It all came down on Galen, the realization he'd be in a wattle house, slapping mud in forms with a swamp of kids around him, forever-and-ever. He picked up a mug of ale after the first dance and didn't put it down. But there's where it gets interesting. Galen found himself leaning on the shoulder of some burly stranger, pouring out all his newfound woes, and this man, this outsider fella, pressed a silver into his palm - a whole silver, imagine! and said, "You'll need that, and more for the missus. If you can tend a horse and hold a torch, there'll be plenty of the like fer ye." Galen shook on it, this was opportunity!

   The next morning (far too early, after all that ale) Galen met up with the man and his companions, and began the long trek out into the wilderness. That he forgot to tell his parents or his betrothed or anyone, really, of what he was doing was surely an oversight. At any rate, in the company of Baerlon the soldier, Melthiesha the wizard, and a surly mute dwarf the other two just called Ham, Galen began his career as an adventurer!

   Well, a Henchman. Or at least, a hireling. Mostly he did what he was hired to do, tend horses, sharpen swords, gather firewood. ...And of course, carry a torch so that the others' hands could be free in that dreadful lost temple they found! Galen didn't get out of that one unscathed; Ham took a hit from a lizardman who had been waiting in ambush, and Galen, armed with nothing but his torch tried to fend the humanoid off as best he could! After that, Baerlon began teaching him how to use a sword, proper-like. The lot of them had a good laugh helping Galen come up with something a little more heroic than "Galen the mud-tosser who beat a lizard with a torch" and thus Galien of Kilner, young knight errant was born!

   That was all of two years ago. In the time since, Galen has parted ways with Baerlon and his friends. A sack of silver at one hip, a shining new sword on the other. He was heading home to Waycombe, but you know, maybe a stop in Saltmarsh wouldn't hurt anything. He'd heard something about treasure there, so maybe...

Description: Galien has the look of a young man who's slept under more bushes than roofs  of late. His red hair is tousled and windblown and in need of a trim, with a cloth in place to keep it from spilling over his blue eyes and freckled cheeks. He's not too tall - five-seven, minus his hair's habit of sticking up oddly - but he seems to have the muscle of a lad who's been at work from walking age. He's wearing scruffy-looking but otherwise well-kept armor, boots in need of a cobbler's touch, and at his hip, a sword bright enough to be fresh from the smith. He's not a bad-looking fellow, and what he might lack in drop-dead good looks, he makes up for in an apparent confidence and youthful swagger. If you got him in some better armor and a visit to the barber, he'd

clean up quite nicely.

Persona: Galen has all the confidence you would expect of a nineteen year old, a self-assured sort of bravado and just a touch of foolhardiness. he likes to cast himself as "Galien of Kilner," a warrior of (growing) renown. Sure it's self-aggrandizing, but you have to make a name for yourself to get by, right? And sometimes it's not just a story; Galen stands by what's right, and the sword isn't just for decoration. He's good-natured and despite the airs he puts on, knows damn well he's the son of a potter from a town of eighty folk. You won't catch him talking down to anyone for their station, and he won't abide by anyone who does. He's found that he enjoys the thrill of a fight, at least once it gets going, but after feeling what it's like to have a sword put through one's meatier parts, is usually not in a big hurry to start a fight. With Melthiesha's help he learned to read (at least on a basic level) and enjoys doing so when the opportunity presents itself. Though he's had a few, er, experiences, he's still not entirely used to women; when a comely lass sidles up to him, all the bravado of Galien of Kilner gushes out and he's left as Galen from Waycombe. Some girls like it, some don't, it's been a thing.

[Chulanowa]

Also question for the GM; do we have the option of Background Skills and Combat Stamina / combat tricks from Unchained?