#now there's NO excuse to not let us play as a gnoll. please please please i want to play sweet pea so BAD

[lonepower]

BARNABUS IS HELPING US

#BABY BOY.................. #now there's NO excuse to not let us play as a gnoll. please please please i want to play sweet pea so BAD #chi plays bg3 #chi liveblogs #bg3 spoilers

[spicybeaurito]

Do you have more to say on player etiquette? I like your insight into this & it might expand what I've gleaned through my limited experience

Ask me about DnD!

There’s a lot to be said on player etiquette, though I feel like I can’t just leave it at etiquette issues I’ve noticed with players, there are other issues of etiquette related to DnD that happen mostly because there are a lot of different interactions going on in a session. You have, of course, the interactions between players and the interactions between players and DMs, but there’s also the interactions between players, DM and spectators that perhaps should be addressed as well, and so I’ll touch on that here as well. 

It’s such a complicated matter, and I don’t think I can be brief on it, so you’ll have to excuse the long post that is to follow. 

I’ll start with etiquette between players, because that’s one of the basic interactions of DnD: you are all at the table because you want to tell a story together, and to do that, there are some things to consider:

Be considerate of new players. I’m still new to DnD myself, but I can say that it’s important to be kind and welcoming to new players. That doesn’t mean you have to hold their hand the entire time, but don’t be a jerk to them. If you know they’re a new player (whether new to the system or new to the entire hobby), be nice, offer to share some organization/note-taking tips, and if they ask you how this class feature or that spell works, tell them. Don’t expect them to do their research all on their own, or memorize the number and type of dice, plus the damage type, saving throw and imposed conditions of every spell on their spell sheet. Understand that new players might be a bit slow to learn how something works at first, or unaccustomed to the way that combat works, and be patient with them. The DnD community is one that is open to anyone who wants to come, and if you snap at new players for building their class so it’s not optimal, or rolling the wrong sort of damage the first few times, or forgetting about an ability, it’ll only discourage new players from joining a community that is supposed to be open and welcoming to all

Don’t hog the spotlight. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, DnD is not a single player game, and if you want to go on an epic fantasy quest but make yourself the center of the narrative, play Skyrim, or write a book. I think most people are very aware of this, but every so often, you encounter that one person who decides they are going to drag these other random adventurers who they’ve just met, maybe killed one pack of gnolls with, and take them on a quest to kill the evil tyrant who murdered their family and claimed their title, and then make everything else about them. I’ve encountered plenty of rangers or rogues who decide they don’t like being with people (in the edgy loner way) and you aren’t really sure why this kind of character is then being used for a collaborative storytelling game, when all they want to do is be on their own, and so they go off and do their own thing. Don’t be that guy, please- it’s not all about you, it’s about the group. It makes the game a lot less fun for the other players and can stress out the DM if you do it consistently (more on that later).

Don’t speak over one another. This is a tough one, because I know you do reach moments when your character would try to interrupt another, and that’s fine, but when you have four or five players talking over each other, it can get to be too much. Not just because of the general confusion of it all, but because there’s other things to consider might be affected by your decision to try and talk over another player. First of all, it’s inconsiderate to other players (such as myself) who are easily overstimulated by aural stimuli, and can sometimes lead to an anxiety attack if it continues for too long. Second, it’s just rude to talk over one another, to the point it doesn’t even matter what would happen in character. It’s inconsiderate to players who are trying to follow one line of conversation, or to more quiet players who don’t usually speak up but are now getting steamrolled because you absolutely have to say something.

Don’t touch other people’s dice. Please. I know dice superstitions are sometimes silly and Probably Fake, but let people have them. If you need more dice to roll damage, or because you forgot yours, or whatever, just  ask first, and wait for them to be handed to you. Don’t wait for the affirmative, then go grab them out of whatever arrangement the other player has them in. The dice are their possessions, superstitions or no, and it isn’t polite to just go grabbing for something that doesn’t belong to you. Ask permission, and allow the player to select the dice and hand them to you. Also, remember to return people’s dice if you borrow any. There’s nothing more sad than an incomplete or missing set of dice.

Don’t have your phone out. There are exceptions to this. If a player has a loved one in the hospital, for example, or, on an even smaller level, if they need an app to look up spells or calculate hit points, then you’re fine to be on your phone. The main issue there is players not paying attention because they’re on Twitter and then demanding that information be repeated, or players who take forever to decide what to do on a turn because they were on Facebook before they made a plan.

That’s what I can think to say about interactions between players and etiquette to consider there, so I’ll move on to DM and player interactions, specifically pointers for players interacting with DMs, because there’s a few things that I’ve seen that are worth noting.

Be considerate of your DM.  Being considerate of your DM means a lot of things. It means recognizing that your DM is a human with a job or other obligations outside of DnD, and sometimes, those obligations have to take precedence, and those obligations can and will stress your DM out. There are other plates spinning besides the plan for next session, and I think sometimes there is a tendency to think of DMs as these tireless creatures whose sole occupation is writing this story. Be considerate of the other stresses that might exist, and don’t complain if a session is cancelled because your DM has a term paper due in a week, because real life comes first.

Offer help. This is more of something that is away from the table, rather than at the table. The DM does a lot of work for the players. They build the encounters, the monsters, the NPCs, the battle maps, they wear many faces and hats (and sometimes voices), and they do their best to make sure you have a good time. Oftentimes, they will host the session, which is a lot of stress not just on them to clean and have the space ready, but those they live with, to have this constant presence that might not always be a welcome one. That said, offer to help in any way you can, and this can be in a lot of ways. You can offer to host a few sessions at your place, or help the DM transport any materials (no peeking though!), or even offer to run a oneshot so they can have a break. The possibilities for helping your DM in these little ways are kind of endless, and can be done any way, not necessarily in ways related to DnD.

Talk with your DM before executing a concept, and be willing to work with them to develop it. I love weird character concepts, whether it’s weird in a flavor way, or weird in a mechanical way, I love it, and I’m sure a lot of other DMs would agree. That said, don’t just go ahead and have a character who is the result of this bizarre concept without consulting the DM. Make sure you talk with the DM first and are willing to find a way to make it work in the setting, before you go and execute your plan. And this might mean you’ll have to let go of some parts of the concept, which is fine, because the DM knows what will work best in their world. If you have an aspect of the character you want to translate as a mechanic in-game, such as a phobia or trauma, you can work with the DM to establish the trigger for the mechanic (for example, a Wisdom saving throw whenever a fire spell from the character lands the killing blow), and then the DM would determine things like the DC and what happens based on discussions between them and the player if the DC is not met. A lot of DMs I know (myself included) are usually very open to this kind of discussion with players, and are willing to, if you bring us a concept, work with the player to develop it so it fits the world a bit more.

Tell your DM everything about your character, and stick to what you tel them. Okay, maybe don’t tell them everything, but do give them as detailed a backstory as you can, as well as any goals or NPCs that you  might bring up. The DM is the only one at the table who should have everybody’s secrets and everybody’s histories. This makes it easy on the DM when they’re building a session so they can include threads to a backstory or when you, the player, want to make a decision that would be considered out of character, but can be completely justified by backstory. If you don’t have your Uncle Legolas, Prince of the Wood Elves included in your significant NPCs, and you just pull him out of thin air, you should maybe talk with the DM about that first, just to make sure it’s okay.

Don’t be a backseat DM. Unless you are a DM yourself and the DM asks for your opinion on a ruling, or asks for advice explicitly, don’t tell the DM what you would do or how you would rule it. All DMs have different rules for different things, and it’s important to respect that it’s how they’re comfortable running their game. It’s exhausting to try and run an adventure and someone is constantly telling you that you shouldn’t have made them roll for this or that, or that this roll shouldn’t work that way.

Trust the DM. I know we all like to joke that the DM is out to kill us, and it’s a funny joke…the first few times. Every DM is different, but most DMs won’t put the party too far out of their depth- they’re not out to cause a TPK. Is a TPK a risk? Of course. There’s nothing in DnD that is done without risk, and that is part of what makes the game great. The DM wants to help you guys tell a great story, and no one likes to deal with a TPK or even a single character death, but on the other hand, it’s not something you can expect to be easy to recover from. It’s not easy for the DM either- they want the players to succeed, want good to triumph over evil, etc- but they are in the position of having to walk the line of making it fun and making it a challenge.

Don’t speak when your DM is speaking. I see this a lot in games, and it’s a bit upsetting, really. I have a friend who is a fantastic DM, their descriptions are so vivd, their NPCs are wonderful, and their entire world is absolutely enthralling, but when I dropped in on their campaign last year, I noticed a lot of times, players would interrupt with a description. I understand that some people want to skip straight to the action- who cares what the villain’s lair looks like, I want to hit them with a sword- but when you have these DMs who put so much thought into certain details and you go and interrupt them, that’s just rude. It’s like having someone describe this incredibly intricate wedding cake but you don’t care so you dig right in and have no time to appreciate the flavors that had to come together to make this, or the technique of the piping, etc. 

Don’t blame the DM when you forget things. I’ve seen this one a few times as well, where a player has an ability or feature that they’ve had for a while, and they don’t use it or don’t know they have it because they didn’t write it down, but the blame falls to the DM. There are a lot of things to keep track of in DnD, but it’s not the DM’s fault if you forget you have Sneak Attack or that when you Rage you only take half damage. It’s not the DM’s fault to tell you that you have this ability or that feature, and they’re under no obligation to fix anything that might have been affected by your negligence. 

Something that I know isn’t common, but I am still going to address, is the presence of spectators at DnD sessions. These people are maybe friends of the DM or players, a player or the DM’s significant other, or any variation thereof. They have been invited into this space to watch the story unfold, and sometimes, it’s important to remember a few things when you are spectating. 

Be respectful. Being a spectator is a privilege, and so it falls to you to be respectful of any rules that exist within the playing space. If the DM asks you not to talk while they’re playing, or not to stand behind their DM screen, peering over their shoulder, you listen. You don’t make phone calls in the space, you go outside. If you need to listen to music, you use headphones. Basically a lot of common decency things, because you are a guest in that space, and that’s important to remember. 

The snacks at the table are for the players- don’t eat them without permission, or without contributing some yourself. This is an issue that’s come up a few times, where we have a guest spectating and they just abduct our entire bag of popcorn to the sofa where they’re watching from, without contributing anything to the table themselves. This is kind of a rude thing to do, because if you are spectating, you are a guest, and the food is not laid out for you. If you contribute, however, taking snacks from the table is slightly more okay, so long as you aren’t disruptive or distracting. 

Don’t distract the players or DM. This one kind of explains itself, really. Don’t chime in with every little comment on everything, don’t sit on the floor by your significant other or do anything that pulls the players and DM away from the game.

The issue of spectators is a bit more complex than I lay out here, but those are definitely key points I can offer to anyone spectating. 

There’s a few miscellaneous points as well, mostly to do with things like snacks, and player conflict, and the like, but what I’ve mentioned here are several important etiquette things that I’ve encountered with my experience playing DnD. If folks want me to go more in-depth with a certain point, I would be more than happy to, but this post is long enough as it is.

#yashas strong arms #sarah talks dnd #it's long again and i hope this answers your question! #dnd tag #okay to reblog #dnd etiquette #d&d tag

[firelight-tales-of-exandria]

Firelight Tales of Exandria, Ch.6 - “The Cure is Murder”

Thank you all for coming, and let us tell some stories...

“The party had taken on the job of investigating the farms on the outskirts of the Bramblewood. Investigating a few, they found telltale signs of ruined land, half-eaten livestock, and territorial farmers. They did manage to find, atone farm, a group of starving wolves, that were scavenging a newly-sacked farm and, unfortunately in their hunger, they deemed it a big enough risk and attempted to include the party in the cycle of life. Our heroes took umbrage to that, and either killed or drove off the wolf pack, after which they investigated this farm and discovered, with the aid of the gnoll hunter, Buddy, that the perpetrators of these attacks were a pair of ankhegs that had come from the Bramblewood itself.

“After dispatching them, with the unforeseen help of Zeal, the party examined the ankhegs and Buddy, through some ominous allusions, informed the party that something within the Bramblewood, appearing to emanate from Gatshadow, has been corrupting and sickening the wildlife and the forest itself. Retrieving a trophy from one of the ankhegs, the group made their way back to Westruun.”

Song directs the party back to the Freeman’s Lodge, so they can drop off the ankheg head.

Being nighttime, the Lodge is mostly empty, but there is a clerk doing busywork at the reception desk. The group drops off the head to complete their bounty, and the subsequent paperwork proceeds to bore Ladryssa and Shadow, who busy themselves with the curiosities about the Lodge.

Worried the various stuffed trophies strewn about the Lodge would upset Leaf, especially after the sad business with the wolves, Cezika offers to wait with them outside.

Song makes some allusions to the head having some kind of disease, making the clerk uncomfortable. Finally he finishes his paperwork and imparts the group’s payment and receipt.

Song asks Cezika to be the party’s accountant, which the rogue obviously thinks is a fantastic idea, proceeding to divvy up the bounty among the party.

Zeal apologizes for the circumstances of their meeting earlier. Song invites her to join them for a brew as thanks for saving his life, but the tiefling regrettably excuses herself. Song kisses her hand, “like a gentleman”, thanking her again. Zeal gives him a wink.

Returning to the “Sloppy Satyr” inn & tavern, the group forgoes paying for their own communal room in favor of sharing a bed in one of the single rooms. Song orders some nighttime refreshments and Nakiya brings some pillows and blankets from her room to make the shared room cozy.

Cezika and Song have a quick tête-à-tête about her native language (Marquesian). 

Ladryssa elaborates on her concerns from the farm.  She explains that she comes from the Feywild and the enemies of her patron/adoptive mother created a magical wasting disease that renders its victims paranoid, belligerent, and highly vulnerable to suggestion.

Song: “Y’know, please take this as a compliment, but so many things about you make so much more sense now that I know where you are from.”

Ladryssa: “Thank you?”

Cezika: “Yes, it was a compliment, it is okay.” *head pat*

Ladryssa’s memories are vague on the details of the pandemic, but she remembers that those who were infected were simply executed to prevent its further spread. That's probably not the best solution in this case.

Song asks if Ladryssa can contact her patron/mother to get more info on the malady, and she regrettably says that’s not how her connection works.

Now that Ladryssa is putting the pieces of how the Feywild works versus how the Material Plane (”The Realm of Consequence”) works, she is beginning to understand why her upbringing was so delicate (the lifestyle of the Fey would largely have been lethal for young Ladryssa, and her “mother” would have been pissed if she was hurt).

The group decides that talking to the clergy about cleansing the disease would be the best first step.

Cezika braids Ladryssa’s hair while Shadow watches, enraptured.

Song: “Well would you look at that, Ladryssa: you’ve got two mothers now.”

Ladryssa: “I have three!”

Cezika: “I used to do this for my cousins. It helps with stressful days before bed.”

Song: “How many cousins have you got?”

Cezika: “........I’ve lost count.”

As the group mellows out before sleep, Song plays the lullaby he does from time to time. Nakiya returns from her room with a flute and joins in the tune.

Song wakes in the middle of the night, disturbed by something, holding his heirloom amulet, but falls back asleep

++PARTY LEVEL UP – LVL. 3++

Leaf and Shadow spend another night outdoors and wake with the dawn, while the rest of the group have a slumber party in the room together.

The door to the room having been left unlocked, Shadow slinks into the room. When Cezika wakes up she gets a face full of Shadow.

With the rest of the party being startled awake by Shadow, they are further confused as Song begins speaking in tongues. Cezika recognizes one such language as Primordial. Song, unable to control which language comes out, can’t explain either, but soon gets the hang of it.

Shadow is curious as to why Song keeps fiddling with his pendant. Song explains it was a keepsake from his mother.

Shadow: “You keep grasping it. Can you sense it too?”

Song: “Sense what? Did you have any dreams last night? Not saying I did...”

Shadow is concerned about Song’s well-being, since those from his tribe who started speaking in tongues “lost their sense of themselves”.

To lighten the mood, Song asks the party what color his hair should be next. Shadow asks if he can make it look like theirs. Half an hour later, Song comes out with his hair in the same streaked salt-and-pepper pattern as Shadow’s fur, after which Shadow braids Song’s hair, under Cezika’s instruction.

Cezika and Shadow stop by Nellywicke’s shop to square up their debt for the necklace she gave them. The gnome jokingly says she didn’t think they would even return, let alone actually pay for it. Shadow thanks her again for the necklace, kissing her on the cheek.

Nellywicke: “Sometimes the brightest lights come from the deepest shadows.”

Nellywicke asks what the next step for the party is, and they mention investigating an illness. She remarks that something big is going on at the Temple Ward that morning, so other people may be ill as well, immediately alarming the group, who sprint off.

The Temple square is full of people, with each of the large temples crammed full with injured lumberjacks. Heading off to the Temple of the Platinum Dragon, the group finds Dren, Zeal, and the other Scales frantically performing first aid and surgery on pews full of injured. Leaf offers their aid, and Dren enlists them in an emergency surgery while the others wait outside.

Song spots a small mob, whipped up into a frenzy heading off to the Freeman’s Lodge. Song, Nakiya, Ladryssa, and Shadow try to get into the Lodge, with varying success, while Cezika tries to keep a lookout outside.

The leader of the Lumberjack’s Guild is trying to keep some semblance of order, keeping the fervor of the mob down. Various lumberjacks and the families of those wounded and killed, shout out about how the forest came alive to attack them. Others shout out how the Margrave refuses to lend the support of the Westruun Shields to protect excursions into the Bramblewood.

Song, getting crammed into a far corner of the Lodge, recognizes one of the dissenting voices as Gortman, who is calling for political reform of the city leadership and deposing of the Margrave and his military dictatorship. The mob begins working itself up into a frenzy, but Song manages to surreptitiously calm the crowd before they call for blood en masse.

Cezika, outside, melds into the crowd as Margrave Brandon Zimmerset makes his way into the Freeman’s Lodge, flanked by his personal guard. The Margrave immediately quiets the mob, addressing their grievances directly. He explains that attacks on trade caravans across the Dividing Plains threaten the stability and economic lifeblood of Westruun, and are spreading the might of the Shields too thin to help with domestic concerns. He firmly “reassures” the citizens that he always has their best interest at heart and warns that any steps taken toward “political reform” will be met with swift action.

The Margrave, on the spot, declares an open bounty of one thousand gold pieces to whomever eliminates the cause of the recent troubles within the Bramblewood, sending those adventurers present scurrying out of the Freeman’s Lodge.

#firelight tales of exandria #dungeons and dragons #tw bodily harm #tw trauma #tw amputation #campaign journal

[dailybestiary]

Moloch

(Illustration by Kieran Yanner comes from the Paizo Blog and is © Paizo Publishing.)

Hold on to your tophets, ladies and minotaurs…it’s Moloch time!

Moloch’s inspiration is a Canaanite god who gets a lot of bad press in the Torah and the Bible—two holy books that, let’s be fair, don’t exactly have a track record of playing nice with the neighbors.  But Moloch also gets some pretty bad press from the Greeks and the Romans, and the phrase “child sacrifice” gets thrown around a lot, so I’m perfectly fine with him being used as an archdevil.  (There’s actually a post floating around the Paizo Blog that basically says, “Well, that’s kind of how religion worked in those days”…but I possess the ultimate authority on good vs. evil—Monte Cook’s Book of Vile Darkness (what, you were expecting Spinoza?)—and it firmly puts child sacrifice in the Evil category, so screw Moloch.)

In early editions of AD&D, Moloch ruled Malebolge as Baalzebul’s viceroy.  In 3.0 and 3.5 Moloch had an even rougher time of it, getting replaced first by the Hag Countess and then Glasya.  Pathfinder’s Moloch, on the other hand, is firmly in control of both the Sixth Layer and indeed all of Hell’s armies.  If you’re looking for a devil who’s a servant or a patsy of another power, Pathfinder’s Moloch is definitely not it.

Probably the four most interesting things about Moloch are as follows:

1) Moloch is publicly worshipped.  Devil worship is not popular, by and large.  Even for truly dastardly faith communities, worshipping gods, even evil ones, is a safer bet than worshipping beings that explicitly come from Hell.  (“Would you like to spend eternity building a pyramid for the Pharaoh God of Taxation and Making Slaves Grovel?  Or go to the place with the fire pits and devils and eternal torment?” “Gosh, the fire pits do sound appealing. But seeing as I’m already experienced at being taxed and groveling...Imma hafta stick with what I know.”)  So devil worship is usually a cult thing.  Heck, even Asmodeus isn’t that popular in any land where he doesn't have governmental backing—without a throne, inquisition, or similar power structure in place, his church is at best seen as a necessary evil. The other archdevils’ cults mainly stick to the shadows.

But not Moloch.  His worship happens out in the open.  His followers build giant sacrificial ovens. Whole armies subscribe to his message. Of all the archdevils, he is the one most likely to be worshipped under the glaring eye of the midday sun.  And he gets that worship, because…

2) Moloch is responsive.  He answers the prayers of his followers—often in a quite literal and personal fashion.  Is your village threatened by flood?  Forget subtle shifts in tributary courses—Moloch just shows up in avatar form and dams the river.  Is an army about to ransack your town?  Moloch’s army is bigger, assuming he doesn’t just squash the looters himself.

Yeah, the price for this prompt and professional service is an eternity slaving away in Moloch’s army for anyone who asks for his aid or offers even the slightest hint of praise. But when floods, rapine, and slaughter regularly threaten your subsistence-farming-level existence, being a mule skinner for an archdevil might seem like a decent trade, especially if you don’t have to pay it off till you’re dead.  Which means that Moloch has a surprising number of worshippers, despite being a walking metal furnace that swallows victims whole and to burn alive in his stomach. Speaking of which…

3) Moloch has interesting symbolism and visual associations.  Which means interesting worshippers and sidekicks.  He’s got a bull thing—use some minotaurs as his cultists.  He’s got a furnace/child sacrifice thing—use the tophet. He’s got a walking, fiery suit of armor thing—there are tons of constructs, golems, elementals, devils, and undead like that.  And he’s a general—which means animate war machines like juggernauts or colossi.

With a lot of archdevil nemeses, the PCs’ journey fighting their servants goes tiefling —> lesser devil —> medium devil —> nasty devil—> archdevil, with maybe a fiendish dragon or something in there for variety.  Moloch’s followers are waaay more interesting that that.  Literally any soldier of any race might be found in his legions, either living, undead, as a fiendish version of itself, or as some kind of twisted einherjar. Pick up thematic cues from his description and his mythology and go nuts.  

And since we’re on the subject of him being a general…

4) Moloch is a general.  He’s the leader of Hell’s armies.  This means facing him is going to be like facing any general with godlike power.  He’s going to have lots of troops he can call for aid. He’s going to have aerial assault teams and assassination squads and giant hellfire-fueled juggernauts.  He’s going to be physically powerful himself, and canny and strategic as well.  If you come at him, you risk literally having all the armies of Hell chasing after you.

That said, it also means he has other fish to fry.  He has Heaven assaulting one front and the demon hordes assaulting the other.  He has lesser generals and colonels who want his job.  He has some mighty demanding bosses to please.  And, as noted above, he’s very attentive to his flock.  No matter how big you think your beef with him is, you’re probably the lowest item on his to-do list.

Which means you might be able to sneak into his vast army camp and ambush him.  You might be able to challenge him to single combat to gain some small concession.  You might be able to put a treaty in front of him to sign.  Keep your goals reasonable and small, and he might just to decide to send his flunkies after you in retaliation rather than deal with you personally, or burn your great-grandchildren to cinders a few generations from now…but that’s their problem.  Generals are patient, generals can wait, and generals pick their battles.  He will always come down on you like a hammer, but it might not be today.  And when dealing with archdevils, those are as good odds as you’re going to get.

Adventures are asked to investigate a so-called Children’s Crusade, only to discover it is a sham—slavers are herding the children (and their hapless friar guardians) like cattle to boats crewed by gnolls, hobgoblins, witchwyrds, denizens of Leng, and worse.  The trail leads past strange cyclopean isles to a forbidding and cruel coastal nation of military dictators.  There the children are to be fed to giant, animate tophets meant to fuel the archdevil Moloch’s fires in Hell…unless the brave adventurers step in.

A solar and an uinuja formed an unlikely friendship, despite their differing ethics, spheres of influence, and relative power levels. Now the solar languishes in a Hellish prison, and the plucky azata wants to do what even the archons do not dare: stage a rescue, even if it means facing the Lord of the Sixth himself. Fortunately, she knows some adventures who are just as plucky—or crazy—as she is.

The cult of Mithras has spread throughout the Roman Empire—in particular, throughout the Roman Legions.  But as the cult has spread, so have disturbing rumors about secret rites, bloody and fiery sacrifices, and worse.  At first, the Senate and certain famous adventurers chalk this up to the usual politics and rumormongering Rome is famous for.  But then word comes out of Anatolia that the great god Mithras is dead, slain by an imposter who now usurps his throne and perverts his rites. The usurper is Moloch, and he has turned much of Rome’s military might to his service—for even those who resist his call in life have sullied themselves enough so that he may claim their souls in death.  Worse yet, the dour god Pluto is angered by the potential theft of shades from his kingdom. His priests threaten that if this Mithras/Moloch is not stopped, Pluto will send an army of undead through the Lacus Curtius to drag the Roman army down to the Underworld, no matter what the collateral damage.  Great heroes have to act—and fast.

—Pathfinder Bestiary 6 30–31

(I’ve always thought the rapid spread and equally rapid decline of Mithraism throughout the Roman Empire was pretty fascinating.  So naturally I wanted to give your PCs an excuse to be players in that particular rise and fall.  Now, on to some housekeeping…)

Edit: Also, somehow my Google-fu utterly failed me, and nothing I read pointed me to the fact that there was a section on Moloch in Pathfinder Adventurer Path #105: The Inferno Gate. (I had to skip that AP because I was so behind; it’s on my to-read pile.)  I’ll be interested to read how my take conforms (or doesn’t) with Editor Emeritus @wesschneider‘s canon version, but that’s a project for another night.

Hi all.  First of all, again, apologies for the absurdly late post. This article literally sat half-written on my desktop since something like June 18.  We’re talking a month. Sure, this blog isn't the *daily* Daily Bestiary it once was, but I’ve never been as lax with my posting as that.  Two posts in June and none so far in July is unacceptable.

Toyota earned its reputation for amazing cars not through one outstanding model or innovation, but through a company-wide suggestion system that leveraged lots of tiny improvements. Unfortunately, the same is also true in the negative.  There’s no one reason I haven’t been able to blog or one big nightmare I had to tackle (okay, there was one—a four-day, 46-hour workweek that sucked beyond measure—but let’s pretend I didn’t say that).  There have just been a thousand tiny distractions and mini-hurdles.  The short version is: June was lame, I had to take some time for me, I probably took too much, and I’m hopping the end of July is better.  Much love and thanks to you all for your patience, yet again.

Tumblr folk already know this (so forgive me if I quote myself verbatim) but my Blogger folk don’t: My second episode as a guest of the Laughfinder podcast is up!  Once again, I aid Bryan Preston, Jim Meyer, and Tommy Sinbazo to fight evil conjured by Dorian Gray and Ben Hancock.  Once again there are many NSFW riffs on Baltimore landmarks.  And most importantly, my blood feud with Aaron Henkin erupts into passionate FURY.  Enjoy!

#pathfinder #paizo #3.5 #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #moloch #archdevil #devil #outsider

[magmasliveblogs]

1.20

aaaaaaaand im back! internet issues, which are this weeks irl issue of the week, came back up again, but im back! this is the 22nd chapter! to recap: last chapter erin snapped out of her depression, confronted the shopkeep who ripped her off, and proceded to trounce said shopkeepers nephew at chess. 

“Checkmate.”

At last Erin slid her last rook into position. Olesm stared at the board and then tipped over his king with a trembling claw.

Erin cracked her fingers and grinned. It wasn’t her best game, but she’d gone for style over efficiency. Her opponent had a single king left in the middle of her pieces and she had a small army surrounding him. She smiled up at Olesm who’d turned pale. Her audience was gaping at her and the chess board.

“Good game. Let’s play again sometime, okay?”

She reached over and patted Olesm on the shoulder. The Drake looked slightly shell-shocked and made no reply. Erin shrugged and stood up.

Klbkch and Relc made their way through the crowd to her. Relc was gaping at the board.

“You won. But how did—but he’s—you won!”

“Congratulations on your victory, Miss Solstice.”

“Why thank you, Klbkch.”

Erin grinned at Klbkch. The ant man nodded back.

“May I ask how you managed such an incredible display? I would not have thought it possible, nor deemed it prudent to bet against Olesm in a game of chess until this moment.”

Erin shrugged. There was no harm in telling. Besides, both the shopkeeper and his nephew were still staring at the board.

“You said he’s played for a year, right?”

Klbkch nodded.

“And he is a Level 22 [Tactician]. There are no higher-level Tacticians even within the Liscorian army.”

“Good for him. But I’ve been playing chess for twelve years now. I started a bit late, but I used to play at least three games before I went to sleep each night. He might have a fancy skill, but a rookie’s still a rookie.”

This time it was Klbkch’s turn to do the staring with Relc. Erin smiled at both of them and then tapped the shopkeeper on the shoulder.

first of all, the tactician statement is false and has since been retconed. doesnt change her accomplishment, level 22 is higher than level 0 either way. innate skill is better than applying military thinking to chess it seems 

“I want my money back. All of it, thank you. And while you’re at it I’ll buy the chess board and pieces too.”

The Drake gaped at her. Then the color returned to the scales in his face and he backed away.

“I—that game was—”

Erin interrupted him.

“If you’re about to say it was rigged, don’t bother. And if you want a rematch, I’ll gladly play again if you double how much you owe me. But otherwise, don’t bother. I want my money.”

The Drake blanched and his scales turned pale. Erin smiled at him. His tail was twitching hard in agitation.

“My mind is…slightly hazy. I’m afraid I have no recollection of how much you spent. Unless of course you could tell me?”

Erin gave him a winning smile.

“I have no idea. But I’m sure Klbkch and Relc could help you find out.”

The shopkeeper turned pale. Klbkch nodded seriously and bowed in his direction.

“As a Senior Guardsman we would be happy to provide assistance in assessing all financial income for your business, as well as any unpaid taxes that may be extant. For now we will have to order your shop closed while we begin a thorough investigation of your wares and inventory.”

Relc grinned evilly.

“Right. Let’s start flipping over tables until we find a receipt.”

The Drake shopkeeper made a strangled shrieking sound. He tried to block Relc, but the other Drake was already happily trashing his store. Erin hid a grin.

ah i see that this shopkeeper will have a bad day. also erin is leveraging her connections 

Olesm walked up to her, his tail dragging low on the ground.

“I must congratulate you, Mistress Solstice. I have been truly humbled by your skill. Please, accept my sincerest apologies for questioning your ability.”

Erin fidgeted awkwardly. She hated this bit.

“Oh no, you were a good player too. I really shouldn’t have played like that as well against a rooki—another player.”

“You are too kind. But I know when I’m outclassed. I have to ask—are you a [Tactician] by any chance?”

“Me? No. I’m not. Sorry?”

Olesm drooped further. Erin could practically feel him kicking himself. She tried to cheer him up.

“Don’t feel bad. I’m not a professional player, but I’ve won a chess tournament or two in my time. I even played a Grandmaster, once. One of the few female ones which was really cool. But I was so nervous at the time I totally forgot to castle, and I lost my rook to—”

Erin broke off and cleared her throat, blushing. It was a bad memory, but at least Olesm stopped looking like a kicked puppy-lizard. Indeed, he was staring at her with vivid interest.

“Is this Grandmastery you speak of a class? Is it possible—could I take such a class myself?”

An alarm bell went off in Erin’s head. She tried to think fast and failed.

“Um. Maybe? It’s more like a title where I come from. Besides, Grandmasters only play chess. I’m not sure if that’s a class.”

Olesm nodded. Erin could practically see him taking notes in his head.

“Perhaps it’s a class only obtainable at high level in the [Strategist] class line. If ever I have the opportunity I shall take that class at once.”

“You can do that?”

Erin blurted it out. Olesm nodded again.

“Of course. I am merely a lowly [Tactician], the first of the strategist class line. But should I advance in level and learn more skills I might qualify for the [Strategist] class. And perhaps after that I might one day become a [Grandmaster]…? It makes my scales shiver to imagine such a class.”

Olesm stared dreamily off into the air. Erin edged away from him a bit.

“Right, well good luck with that.”

She wanted to go back and get her money, which the Drake shopkeeper was practically begging Relc to take as the other Drake frolicked in the destruction of his shop. But Olesm had her cornered and now Klbkch was on her tail.

uh i wont say anything, but remember this convo for later. much later, but later. it will be on the test! there is no test

“Miss Solstice. I believe this is your wager.”

He offered her three gold coins and a few copper and silver ones. Erin took them gratefully.

“Thank you, Klbkch.”

“I am merely fulfilling my duty as a member of the Watch. And once again may I congratulate you on your victory? I would greatly enjoy playing a game against you once I am off-duty. ”

Olesm nodded in fervent agreement. Erin smiled and wondered whether they’d follow her back to the inn.

“Another game? Sure, sure. After I finish my shopping—maybe another day?”

Klbkch nodded while Olesm visibly drooped. Erin felt bad, but she also knew his type. As in the type of player who would challenge her to another game day and night unless she said no.

“Tell you what, next time we can play a few games. Not just chess—if you guys have got other strategy games I’d love to play them too.”

Olesm’s face lit up.

“Do you like these kinds of games, Miss Solstice? I’m sure you must be quite good at any game you play.”

Erin grinned and waved a hand self-deprecatingly. She noticed Klbkch glancing at Olesm silently, but then the ant man returned his attention to her.

“Oh, I love all kinds of strategy games. I always surfed Youtube for—uh, what I mean is I used to watch and play tons of chess games. And not just chess; I learned how to play shogi, go, and even a few card games. But I couldn’t gamble so there was that.”

Erin shrugged. Klbkch stared at her blankly.

“Excuse me, but I am unfamiliar with these games. Is ‘shogi’ another game of strategy as chess is?”

“No, no. Shogi is a game that originated in Japan. And uh, Japan is…and…um…”

Erin trailed off. Klbkch and Olesm stared at her intently. She could practically see the Drake’s eyes lighting up in eager interest.

It occurred to Erin that trying to explain a game that originated in a country in a world that no one had heard of that used a language based off a culture which also didn’t exist would probably be a bad idea. But they were both staring at her.

“Um. Never mind?”

awkward. this sort of thing is why i sometimes skip portions, because all i would say is awkward or cringe at the events 

Liscor had several markets that were open at any given time during the day. It also had many streets. So it had more than one Market Street too. But only one had a human walking down the stores and admiring the displays.

Erin’s feet hurt. She felt that was ridiculous. After all, she’d been playing chess while sitting down for nearly an hour. But then again, she’d had to stand around and creatively lie and avoid the truth with Olesm and Klbkch for another hour until they went away.

“At least they’re gone now.”

Erin jingled the money pouch at her belt. Klbkch had helped her buy one to carry all the money she now had. It was wonderfully heavy and made lovely chinking sounds as Erin walked, but she was also worried someone would steal it.

That was why she had to spend all of it fast. Erin hesitated, and then walked a few stores down from where the Drake shopkeeper was screaming over his destroyed shop and cursing Relc and humans in general. She approached another stall, filled to the bursting with all kinds of goods. It looked nice. She’d thought so just the other day, too.

Unlike before though, this time the Gnoll shopkeeper standing in front of her shop did not greet Erin. Instead, she looked at her as she approached and gave a loud sniff.

Erin winced inside, but there was nothing for it. She stepped closer and waved at the tall Gnoll.

“Hi.”

The Gnoll looked down at Erin. She—it? wasn’t smiling.

“Human. What do you want? Are you here to look down your nose again at my goods?”

“What? No, no. I’m actually here to uh, apologize.”

Erin tried to gauge the Gnoll shopkeeper’s reaction. It was hard to read her face. Like Relc and Klbkch, a Gnoll’s face didn’t display the same expression as a human one. But Erin didn’t detect the same amount of hostility in her features.

“Oh? What do you have to say then?”

“Um. Sorry?”

The Gnoll raised one eyebrow and her ears twitched back. That was a human reaction so Erin went on quickly.

“It’s just that I was having a bad day and I met this other Gnoll who really didn’t like me. So uh, I was kinda afraid you would get growly at me too. But I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t judge by uh, species.”

The Gnoll looked at her. Erin still couldn’t read her face. But—weren’t Gnolls kind of like hyenas? They looked like it. And hyenas were cats. Or maybe they were dogs. Either way, Erin peeked at the Gnoll’s ears.

They were twitching. And once Erin saw that she saw the Gnoll’s lips were twitching the merest fraction. Erin tried out a smile. To her surprise, the Gnoll smiled back. And laughed.

first of all, fun fact hyenas are so unique that they have their own family separate from canines and felines, and second its good that a simple sorry and explanation worked 

“It is the first time I have heard a Human apologize. A good day, yes? It is good you come to make amends. I will forgive you, and forgive the smell you stink of as well.”

Erin frowned. Was this good or bad?

“Sorry, I don’t want to make you mad again. But—do I really smell that bad? I just had a bath.”

The Gnoll shopkeeper laughed again. She – and now that Erin looked she was definitely a she – clapped one hand on Erin’s shoulder. Erin’s knees buckled.

“I do not mock you, Human. But I laugh because I forget others do not have our nose. Forgive, please.”

Erin rubbed at her shoulder surreptitiously.

“You’re totally forgiven. But I really do smell, then?”

The Gnoll shopkeeper nodded, turning serious.

“You smell of burned ash and trash. No; not just that foul smell. Even burning trash smells better. I know not what it was, but I can still smell it on you.”

“Really?”

Erin sniffed at her arm experimentally, but she smelled like she always did. Better, actually since she had new clothing.

The Gnoll wrinkled her nose.

“Oh yes. It’s not too bad now though. All that blood and oil covers it up.”

Erin froze. The Gnoll laughed at her expression.

“Think I can’t smell it on you? Every creature with half a nose could tell you were in a fight. And that you won. First blood. You don’t stink of fear anymore.”

“It’s nothing to be proud of.”

Erin replied automatically. Her stomach was dropping out of her legs, but the Gnoll shopkeeper didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you not proud of your kill? You have blooded and killed your first prey. Is it not good?”

“No.”

Erin cut the shopkeeper off flatly.

“It’s not anything to be proud of. At all.”

The Gnoll stared down at her. Erin met her gaze. At last the Gnoll shrugged.

“Hrm. If you insist. Humans are odd creatures.”

That last remark stung. Erin gritted her teeth.

“Why do all of you say that? I’m human. So what?”

The Gnoll grinned at her with all her teeth.

“Because you are Human. Few of us have ever seen your kind here, let alone talked to one.”

Erin smiled sourly.

“Well, you’re the first Gnoll I’ve talked to. The first one that wasn’t angry at me, at least.”

The Gnoll shopkeeper laughed and slapped Erin on the shoulder again.

“Hah! You are a spirited Human! I like you. So I will introduce myself. I am Krshia, shopkeeper and seller of goods. And you are the Human who slew the Goblin Chieftain! What is your name, brave little one?”

“I’m Erin. Erin Solstice.”

Erin stuck out her hand but found herself grabbed and squeezed tightly by the Gnoll shopkeeper. It was a bear hug by a creature that looked sort of like a bear. She was strong enough for a bear too, and Erin felt oxygen quickly leaving her body.

sounds nice, though i wouldnt want all my air forced out 

The Gnoll must have heard Erin squeak or felt her dying because she eased up on the pressure. She sniffed at Erin, only wrinkling her nose slightly. For Erin’s part, she smelled spices, sweat, a strong doggish smell, and that earthy smell that came from a day or two of not bathing. Then she was on the ground blinking up at the Gnoll.

“There. We have met, and we are now friends. Come into my shop Erin Solstice and tell me what you want.”

Erin blinked at her, but stepped inside the stall and looked around.

“Wow. Okay. That’s a lot of stuff. But that’s good, because I need a lot of stuff. Like food, clothing, um, soap. Toothpaste—do you have—?”

“Enough, enough!”

Krshia cut Erin off.

“I am not an insect-creature, with perfect memory. We shall fetch what you want and I will write it down. It will take time, but you will get what you want.”

Erin nodded. Krshia bared her teeth at her again, but Erin was pretty sure it was a smile.

“I will give you a fair price. Not too fair; you have much money. But I will not charge you more than any other customer. And then I will have your goods delivered rather than make you pay for a bag.”

Erin blinked.

“Delivered? You do deliveries?”

Krshia laughed.

“Of course. Did you think many would carry off bags of flour as you did? It is too hard. No; the stupid shopkeeper Lism, fur sheddings that he is, didn’t tell you and gave you the bag on purpose.”

Erin glanced over at Lism. He was still screaming at his store and his nephew. It looked like Olesm was recreating the game they’d played on another chess board. Erin had already bought the one she’d won on.

“I feel bad about that, actually.”

“Bad?”

Krshia stared at Erin in surprise and then laughed again.

“Humans are strange. He would not give you the same if he were in your place, he surely would not.”

Erin shrugged.

“Still, it’s not nice. And the law should be equal for everyone.”

Again, Krshia stared at Erin. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, that’s what I was always taught.”

The Gnoll shook her head.

“Humans. If one is greater, they are greater than others, yes? There is no fairness in the hunt. And the sharing of the kill only comes after the pack leader has eaten her fill, yes? You have friends. And you have more courage than foolish Lism. You two would never be equals, no.”

“I guess you’re right. But I still feel bad.”

Erin changed the subject.

yay erin has a supplier!

“So. These deliveries…how do they work?”

Krshia smiled. She pointed to a small wooden bowl filled with brightly painted wooded triangles. Erin looked at them and saw each had an intricate little design of red and gold that made up a pattern around the edge.

“These are Messenger Seals. They are for Runners. When I give you one, I will keep its twin, yes? Then when a Runner delivers your goods you will give him the Seal you have, and then I will know my goods have been delivered. It is simple.”

Erin picked up one of the pieces of wood.

“So you’re saying it’s like a postal service?”

“A what?”

“Um. A delivery service?”

“That is what I have said, Erin Solstice.”

Erin blushed while Krshia grinned toothily at her and laughed.

“Right, sorry. I just haven’t ever heard of these Runners before. What do they do, besides make deliveries?”

Krshia gave her a long look. She seemed to be checking whether Erin was making fun of her.

“Runners run. They are quick ones, those who can run long distances to earn money. Sometimes they deliver letters, other times valuable things. Goods, yes? Magical items, messages that must only be spoken to one person. Such are expensive requests though. Only the best carry such things. Most just deliver goods very cheaply. I can call one and have all that you buy delivered to your inn for a good price.”

That sounded good, but Erin had learned skepticism here.

“What’s a good price?”

“It is the broken inn a few miles east of here, yes?”

Erin nodded. Krshia scratched her chin.

“Four silver coins. Not a small price. If it were the city it would be one, or maybe coppers for a small delivery. But it is far, yes? And if it is heavy and monsters lurk, the price goes up. You are lucky the Goblins are scarce and the Rock Hiders do not travel this late in the season.”

Erin thought about that. It sounded really good. Better than carrying anything herself.

“I like it.”

Krshia grinned at her again. This time Erin grinned back using all of her teeth.

“I knew I liked you for a reason. Then tell me what you want and let us not waste the light, eh?”

“Sounds good to me.”

i wonder if [runner] is a class or is the runners guild is more of an umbrella organization for deliveries in general 

Later that evening Erin sat in her inn and felt at her money pouch. It was a lot lighter now, but she felt a lot better about it. She felt a lot better about life, actually.

She had fresh clothes on, and she no longer smelled of…well, she no longer smelled. Instead her skin had been bathed in a minty scent from the soap she’d used. And she hadn’t had to dodge fish in the stream while bathing either. She’d gone to a bathhouse in the city.

The day had been full of busy things, and none of them had been entirely bad. After she’d bought all of Krshia’s goods and even haggled a bit over the price the Gnoll had shown her to the bath house to have a proper wash. Then Erin had gone back to her inn, eaten the rest of the pasta and she was now enjoying a minor food coma as she sat in a chair in her inn.

Erin played with one of the chess pieces on the table. She’d carried the chess board and a few essential items like soap with her back to the inn. She hadn’t wanted to let it go. It was incredible, really. Chess? In a world like this? Actually, it made sense but Erin was still amazed. She had to keep touching the pieces to make sure they were real.

But she had to focus. Erin dragged her mind back on track. Krshia told her the Runner would deliver her stuff tomorrow at some point. Until then, she could clean up the inn a bit. Or maybe play a game against herself. That was fun too. It was just—

Erin stared down at the chess board. She murmured to herself.

“Knight to D4. Pawn to E3.”

Suddenly her good feeling vanished. Erin felt cold. Suddenly the food in her stomach was dead weight instead of comfort, and she felt sick. Her hands shook as she put the pieces back on the table. Everything was better. It really was. But…

—If she closed her eyes Erin could still see a Goblin lying on the ground next to her. If she opened her hands she could still feel the dead weight between her palms.

Erin moved a pawn up and took the knight. She stared at the pieces on the board.

“It’s kill or be killed in this world, after all.”

She put her head in her hands and rubbed at her eyes. Yes. That was what she’d learned. And she hated it. All of the good that had come to her seemed like it had been built on the bad.

The bad. The dead. A game of chess on a pile of corpses. Erin stared at the chess board.

She was good at chess. She liked chess. She’d grown up playing chess and other games like that, despite the fact that girls weren’t common in chess tournaments. Chess had been fun to her, until she’d grown up and realized she’d never become a Grandmaster herself. She was good, but not great. But chess had still been her hobby. Chess was fun. It was about outwitting the opponent, about using strategy—

It wasn’t at all like killing someone.

Erin stared at her hands. They were quivering. She could still feel them burning. It was all a game, though, wasn’t it? A game with levels and classes. A game like chess.

“It’s just a game. Just a game?”

Erin stared at the board. Pieces. If she thought about it like that, then death seemed to matter less. She’d done the right thing. She’d defended herself, killed the monster.

Killed the monster.

She stared down at the three dead Goblins. They were so small. Like children. And they had family. Friends. Those who loved them.

The ragged Goblin. The ones hiding outside her inn, scrawny and afraid. They were the enemy too, if she played the game like chess. The right thing to do would be to hunt them down and kill them. That was how all games worked.

That was how you played chess.

Erin sat up. She remembered the Goblin’s hand in hers, the feeling of his skin. She remembered his smile. She remembered laughing.

And then she understood. Erin put her hand underneath the chess board and flipped it off the table. Both white and black pieces soared into the air and clattered against the floor.

Erin stood up.

“I remember why I got bored of chess. There’s only one winner and one loser. The best game for both players is a draw.”

She walked over to the door and yanked it open. Then she stopped and turned. She raised her middle finger and flipped off the chess board a second time.

“I’ll make my own rules. And anyone that doesn’t like it can go to hell.”

The door slammed shut as Erin walked out. A few minutes later she rushed back into the inn and carefully put all the pieces back onto the chess board.

“Still a great game, though. Don’t take it personally. Let me just get a quick snack for the road. And I need some soap. Proper hygiene and all that. Where did I put the soap? Soap, soap, soap…I should really organize all this stuff. Maybe tomorrow.”

Then she was gone, running down to the city. There was still plenty of daylight left in the sky. And she had one more thing left to do. The most important thing of all.

what is erin doing now? also, it seems erin got stuck in the space between casual and pro, where you beat all your local stuff but cant get accepted to pro stuff 

The sun sets on the grasslands. Shadows lengthen and fall upon the old structure, hiding flaws and concealing the age of the building underneath an evening shroud. The sun is setting. High above this world, in a sky twice as high it sets slowly.

After a while the young woman walks back towards the inn. She is carrying a bucket and a brush. And a piece of wood. And some nails. And a hammer. It’s quite heavy and she mutters and curses as she drags her burden along.

Eventually though, she reaches the inn and sets her many burdens down. Then she looks up.

Above the inn a faded sign bears the traces of letters, but the young woman cannot read the language. Nor does she care what was once written there. She only has eyes for the sign. The inn has lost its name. It needs a new one.

The girl picks up the bucket and brush. Then she looks up at the sign and down at the ground. The plaque above the inn is several times her height off the ground.

The young woman looks up at the sky and shouts an obscenity. Then she goes back down to the city once more. She comes back with a tall ladder, panting and muttering to herself.

It takes a while for the young woman to realize she needs to anchor the ladder or else she’ll fall right off. She picks herself off the ground and this time she gets to the top of the inn. Once she’s steady she goes back down for the bucket and carefully walks back up the ladder with it.

She dips the brush in the bucket and paints a stroke on the wide plaque above the inn. The dark paint glistens in the sunlight and the young woman smiles and hums in satisfaction. She begins painting on the sign above the inn.

It takes her a long time and several coats of paint. Black paint for the letters, white paint to erase her mistakes. A paint-scraping tool to get rid of the paint when it becomes too thick. A hammer to hit things while she vents her frustrations.

But eventually the sign is done. The young woman sighs in relief and then picks up the piece of wood she has brought. She takes the paintbrush and writes on it briefly. Then she hammers the sign into the ground and walks into her inn. The tools she leaves on the ground. She’ll pick them up tomorrow.

The sign is done, and the paint dries in the fading light. The lettering is crisp and clear, catching the eye of any traveler that passes by. But no travelers are nearby. No visitors come to the inn, and indeed, none will come this night.

It doesn’t matter. The sign is what matters. The name and message are what matter. They have been written, and now they are here to stay. As is the young woman.

So as she sleeps the sun fades and the last bit of light catches the plaque above the inn. The letters glow in the dusk.

The Wandering Inn.

Next to the inn, a large sign is hammered into the earth. It reads:

“No Killing Goblins.”

Thus begins the story of The Wandering Inn. 

is this where the title card would go? i dont know, this seems to be about 19 chapters too late 

thats the end of the chapter! will this gnoll prove to be a good friend? will olesum be a good friend? will the sign be read by anyone? 

see ya next post 

#chrono

[magmasliveblogs]

1.19

this is the 21st chapter! to recap: last chapter relc, pisces, and klb came at various times to check on erin. erin is depressed. she feeds some goblins 

Erin woke up slowly. She woke up to the sight of a bag full of money on her table. For a moment she thought the Goblin had left it.

It wasn’t the Goblin. In fact, the mysterious bag full of silver coins was courtesy of Klbkch. Erin peered down at the note he’d written and squinted to make out the words.

For the destruction of a Goblin Chieftain within the area of Liscor you are hereby awarded 40 (forty) coins of silver or equivalent denomination. Signed and witnessed by Klbkch of the Antinium.

-Klbkch of the Antinium

Post Script: Please excuse my poor handwriting, but I am not fluent in the script used by most Humans on this continent.

Erin blinked down at the bag. She opened it and blinked at the sight of all the gleaming silver. For a while she stared at the shiny metal and watched as the sunlight made it glow. Then she closed the bag.

She stared at the table. The money seemed like it was right out a dream. But it didn’t actually matter much to her at the moment.

She looked back at the table. Had she dreamed that too? But no, she saw where the Goblin had spilled the blue fruit juice when she’d smiled at it. A large glowing fly was hovering over the table.

Erin sighed. But then she smiled. And suddenly, she knew what she was going to do.

first of all, hey, thats quite nice of klb, but also what sort of idea does erin have with the fly? 

First she smacked the acid fly and ran around screaming until she washed the acid off. Then she ate breakfast, which were cold noodles mixed with sausage and onion. It was delicious. Then she walked down to the city.

A thought struck Erin as she walked. She’d have to go back to the market. The market where she’d lost all of her money. Her footsteps slowed, and then picked up. Suddenly Erin had two things to do today. She was looking forward to both.

to the city! what is erin doing? i dont know. probably something interesting 

The second time the human female entered the market every head turned. This time it wasn’t just because of her smell.

Erin marched right up to the stall where she’d been ripped off. She glared at the Drake and then squinted.

“Wait a second. Have we met?”

The Drake shook her head.

“Do you wish to buy a necklace, Human?”

Erin eyed the pendants and other jewelry on display.

“Later, maybe. Right now I want to talk to the Drake guy who ripped me off the other day. You know; the one that took all my money. The ugly one.”

The other customers and shopkeepers nearby who heard that laughed loudly. The female Drake grinned and covered her smile. She pointed, and Erin turned to see a scowling Drake four stalls down.

“You.”

Erin marched over to the Drake. He glared at her, but this time Erin glared back. He shifted his gaze pointedly over Erin’s head. She cleared her throat. When he still ignored her she kicked the bottom of his stall.

The Drake looked down and snapped at her.

“What do you want?”

Erin gave him a polite smile without any of the sincerity.

“Why, I’d like to do business. Jerk.”

The Drake hissed under his breath. He shook his head at her and flicked his tail in her direction.

“My store’s closed to you, Human. I won’t sell to those without a hint of respect for others.”

“Respect? I have tons of respect. Just for anyone who’s not you.”

Several of the other shopkeepers laughed at that. Erin notice she and the Drake were drawing a crowd. She didn’t particularly care.

The shopkeeping Drake glared harder at Erin.

“You’re obstructing my business. Leave, before I summon the Watch.”

He turned his back on Erin but she rapped on his counter.

“My business with you isn’t done yet. I want my money back. You ripped me off the other day.”

The Drake looked over his shoulder.

“So? I offered you my goods and you paid my price. That is a basic rule of buying and selling. I have done nothing wrong.”

There was a general murmur of agreement from the shop owners and a discontented rumble among the shoppers. Erin leaned over the counter.

“Oh yeah? What if I’m not happy about what you sold me? I think for three gold coins you should be selling me enough onions to fill the bottom floor of my inn. So how about I return you what I’ve purchased and you give me a complete refund?”

The Drake sneered at her.

“Do you take me for a slow-witted hatchling, or a Human fool? I won’t accept food that’s days old! Besides, this store does not give out refunds!”

“Really? Where does it say that?”

“Right here.”

The Drake pointed to a sign. Erin stared at it and up at him with narrowed eyes amidst the laughter. Then she grinned.

“Oh, right. It does say that, doesn’t it? Too bad I can’t read. But I do remember you had your prices listed as well, didn’t you?”

She looked around at the other pieces of paper pinned to the wooden stall. The Drake shopkeeper lunged, but Erin was quicker. She pulled the familiar piece of paper away and waved it in front of his face.

“Well. Why don’t we call the Watch after all? Buying and selling is all very well, but what about sticking to prices you write down?”

The Drake shopkeeper hissed again, long and slow this time. His eyes flicked to the paper and back to Erin’s face. He wasn’t sweating, but Erin was pretty sure lizards didn’t sweat.

yes! revenge of the erin! 

“Even—even if you have that bit of paper, what of it? I sell to many customers. And you—I barely remember what I’ve sold to you, let alone my last customer.”

“A bag of flour, one pot of oil, a small bag of salt, sugar, yeast, four sausages, and two onions.”

Erin said it instantly. She paused for a second.

“And one crappy bag.”

The Drake stared at her with open mouth. She smiled sweetly at him.

“I’ve got a good memory. A really good one, actually.”

He didn’t have much to say to that. But the look on the shopkeeper’s face told Erin he wasn’t about to start tossing gold coins around. She leaned over the counter and stared at him. She wished she wasn’t so close. His breath smelled of rotted meat.

“I want my money back. I’ll give you a few silver coins for what I paid, but I’m not leaving here until you give me my money. Now, we can do this the hard way and call a bunch of people over and you can lose all your business for the day, or you can give my money back and I’ll—hey, is that a chess board?”

Erin pointed at one of the Drake shopkeeper’s displays. Everyone turned and looked.

“Oh hey, it is! It’s just like—I mean, the pieces are different but it’s chess, it is!”

The Drake snarled and batted Erin’s hands away.

“Get your hands off that! This is a valuable item!”

Erin glared back.

“It’s a chess board. Unless it’s made out of gold—which it’s not, it’s made out of stone—it’s about as expensive as that food you sold me. So I guess you’re selling this for three gold coins, too?”

That got another laugh from the crowd who had gathered to watch Erin’s showdown with the shopkeeper. The Drake on the other hand just grabbed the chess board and pieces and went to shove them below his counter. Then he stopped and turned to her with a gleam in his eye.

“Are you a player of chess, Human? If so, why don’t we bet on a game?”

Erin raised one eyebrow.

“You mean, we play a game of chess for my money? Why should I do that?”

The Drake spread his arms innocently. Erin noticed his tail was waggling on the floor but she pretended not to notice.

“Human, you and I have a dispute. I refuse to pay for goods sold, and you refuse to leave. So long as you’re stinking up my storefront I won’t have any business, so I offer a wager in good faith. Win against the player of my choice and I will pay you back the money you paid me, though it will cost me my goods that I have earned honestly. Lose, and you agree in front of witnesses not to bother me again. That is my best offer.”

Erin narrowed her eyes at him. She thought for a moment, and then nodded. Her lips twitched once, but she managed to suppress them.

“Fine. Let’s play.”

The shopkeeper smiled down at her. It was a smile full of teeth.

“Give me ten minutes to find my player. Then I will teach you why it is unwise to bet against your betters.”

Erin smiled back.

“Fuck you.”

yep. erin is back after the trauma. also chess! 

Twenty minutes later Erin sat at a table in the middle of the street and played with a pawn. She stared at her opponent, another Drake, this one’s scales colored sky-blue. He was thinner than the shopkeeper, but the Drake was still taller than she was. He finished setting up the pieces on his side and smiled at her across the table.

“I rarely get a chance to play any games within the city. May I know whom I am playing against?”

“Of course. My name’s Erin. Erin Solstice.”

He nodded to her.

“I am Olesm. I believe you know my uncle, who asked me to play in this match.”

Erin gave her opponent a friendly, genuine smile and then looked over his shoulder.

“Is that your uncle? My, you two don’t look alike.”

The Drake hovering over his nephew’s shoulder hissed at her. Olesm raised what would have been his eyebrows if he had any.

“I understand this is a game with a wager. I would urge you not to bet against me. I am quite a good player.”

The shopkeeper interjected quickly.

“We have already agreed to the terms. The Human cannot back out now.”

Olesm glanced at his uncle in irritation, but Erin shook her head.

“I’m not backing down. Let’s play. Besides, I wouldn’t want to disappoint the crowd.”

She gestured at the crowd of watching people. They were definitely people, but Erin wasn’t sure what else to call them. Drakes, Gnolls, and even one of Klbkch’s kind, the Antinium were all gathered in a circle to watch the game. Some of them seemed to be betting as well, and though Erin couldn’t see what they were saying, they didn’t seem to be betting on her victory.

oooo it seems this drake is quite good at chess, or at least above the average of liscor 

Olesm sighed, but made no further objection. Instead he peered at the board and made sure his pieces were all aligned within the squares. He struck Erin as a very meticulous and careful type, which made him unique among the Drakes she’d met so far.

“I’m surprised you know about this game. It was invented just a year ago.”

“You don’t say.”

Erin was busy examining the board. She tapped one of the pieces.

“I’m not sure if the rules I know are the same in that case. This piece here. You can move a king together with a rook like this, right?”

The Drake blinked.

“That’s right. I’m surprised you know that move.”

“Oh, I’ve seen a few players use it. Knights move like this, right?”

“Correct.”

“And pawns can move two spaces on their first move, right?”

“You seem to know this game. Well, well. This might be a good challenge after all.”

Erin smiled blandly at the Drake.

“I’m no expert. But there’s a wager on this one so I’ll play my best. The white side moves first.”

“Indeed it does.”

The shopkeeper smirked and the other watchers crowded around closer as Olesm pushed a pawn forwards. Erin smiled at him.

“Not many players lead with a pawn from the side. Most like going down the center.”

She pushed a pawn forward quickly. Olesm shrugged as he contemplated his next move.

“I have found this strategy to work in some of my games. It is fascinating to play such a new game of strategy, and so I always test new theories out on the board.”

The shopkeeper anxiously hovered over Olesm’s shoulder.

“So long as you win. You must win no matter what.”

Olesm narrowed his eyes but didn’t take his eyes from the board. Eventually he pushed forwards a pawn to counter Erin’s pawn.

chess seems a bit new to this world 

“Have you played many games, then?”

Erin pushed another piece forwards instantly. Olesm blinked and the onlookers muttered.

“A few. But should you not spend more time thinking?”

She waved a hand at him.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m having a blast. I just think fast about my next move, that’s all.”

Olesm frowned at her.

“You should think harder. I have played over a hundred games so far, and won over two thirds of them. If you truly are betting something important, it would not do to lose this game so easily.”

Erin smiled back at him.

“A hundred? Wow. But like I said, don’t worry. I like to play chess too. And I’ve played a…few games too. I’m not worried.”

“Why’s that?”

Erin smiled wider.

“Because I’m going to win.”

hubris! but i dont doubt she shall win, mostly because she is the protag, partially because in her time of mental crisis she turned to chess, that indicated it was a major part of her life 

By the time Relc got to the market street Erin was on, the game had gone on for twenty minutes. A few customers were at the stands haggling, but most were still watching the game. One smart Gnoll was selling them food as they watched, and the shopkeepers seemed content to put their business on hold to watch the fun.

Relc was not having fun. He shoved his way to the front of the crowd and grabbed Erin. The crowd protested angrily. So did Erin.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“What are you doing?”

Relc snapped back at her. He pointed angrily to the game of chess where Olesm was taking his time considering his next move.

Erin shrugged.

“This? I’m getting my money back. Let go of my shirt. It’s new.”

She tried to peel off Relc’s claws from her shirt. Relc let go, but pulled her away from the game. He leaned forwards and hissed at her.

“Stop playing. This isn’t a fair game.”

“What?”

Erin looked at the board and back at Relc.

“You can’t cheat in chess. It’s fair.”

“No, it’s not.”

Relc raised his voice and pointed to the shopkeeper.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you. I know you. Stop the game. This isn’t fair. The bet’s off.”

The crowd rumbled in discontent at Relc’s words. The Drake shopkeeper spread his claws out innocently.

“It is a fair game. She let me name my player and we agreed to the wager. There are many witnesses. It would be wrong to cancel the game now, Guardsman.”

Relc eyed the Drake shopkeeper balefully. From her seat Erin noticed the shopkeeper’s tail was wagging a bit. He also had a gleeful look on his face if she was reading his face right.

“I hate to agree with that jerk, but he’s right Relc. I agreed to the wager and I want to play. I’m going to win my money back and play some chess while I’m at it.”

“Are you crazy? You’re going to lose this game.”

Relc hissed at Erin. She blinked up at him.

“Am I? Why’s that?”

Relc growled under his breath. He jerked a thumb over at the seated Drake who was studying the board with a frown.

“That guy you’re playing? He’s a [Tactician]. The highest-leveled one in the city!”

Erin blinked again.

“So? Does that mean he’s good at chess?”

“Very!”

“Well, so am I. It’s still a fair game, isn’t it?”

“No!”

Relc seemed close to tearing out the spines on his head.

hmm tactician? probably involves strategy! 

“All [Tacticians] can tell when they’re being led into a trap! It’s a class skill! How do you not know this? If you play one in a game they’ll win almost every time! Plus that idiot loves to play that stupid game!”

The Olesm looked up and glared at Relc. Erin glared too.

“It’s not a stupid game. And so what if he likes to play? Like I said, so do I. And I’m a good player.”

“You still can’t win.”

“I can.”

“You can’t.”

“Oh, hi Klbkch.”

Erin turned away from Relc and waved at the silent ant man who had come up behind Relc. Klbkch nodded at her politely.

“Miss Solstice. Please forgive my companion’s interruption. We are on duty and it is improper of us to disturb a member of the public without cause. But Relc insisted we speak with you once we heard of the bet that had been made.”

“Really? You heard about the bet?”

Klbkch nodded.

“Indeed. It is all over the city.”

“Yeah, everyone was talking about the stupid Human who was dumb enough to wager on a game of chess against that idiot.”

Relc jerked his thumb at Olesm. The other Drake continued pondering the board, but Erin could see him grinding his teeth in his seat.

Klbkch nodded.

“I understand this is a bet made to recover your lost coin. However, I fear I must issue the same warning as Relc. The odds of you winning a game against Olesm are quite slim.”

“Olesm. Oh yeah, that’s what his name is.”

Erin covered a smile as Olesm’s eye twitched. She turned to Klbkch and Relc.

“Look, I’m glad you two care. But I’ve got this. It’s fine. You’ll see.”

The two guardsmen stared at her, unconvinced. Relc turned to Klbkch and whispered. Unfortunately his voice was still quite loud and Erin and those around them could hear him quite plainly.

“I don’t think she gets it. Humans are kinda slow. You explain the [Tactician] bit to her.”

“I believe you have given her adequate information. If she will not listen to you, she will not listen to me.”

“Exactly. So stop calling me stupid or I’ll hit you.”

Erin glared at Relc who shuffled his feet and looked away. She glared at Klbkch who raised all four of his hands  and bowed his head and then shifted her glare back to Relc.

ah yes i forgot that antinium had 4 arms. also it seems this drake is more specially picked than i thought 

“Let me play. You two can watch, but I’m going to play and win.”

“But—”

Erin raised a finger.

“No. Go away and let me play.”

Relc opened his mouth, closed it, and then hissed long and loud. He threw up his hands and stomped back into the crowd.

“Humans!”

Erin slid back into her seat and smiled at Olesm.

“Sorry about that.”

Olesm glanced over Erin’s shoulder and sniffed at Relc and Klbkch.

“Think nothing of it. But if we’re done with the interruptions, it’s your move.”

“So it is.”

Erin pondered the board. Then she slid another piece forwards.

“Oi, Klbkch. What’s she doing? Was that a good move? It looked like a bad move.”

“I am uncertain at this point. Allow me a few moments to assess the board before I give you my opinion. And please, lower your voice.”

Erin covered a smile as Olesm’s eye twitched. She waited for him to play another piece. As she did, she studied the board.

Chess. The pieces were different, and she was playing in a street in a city full of walking lizards and talking ants. But it was still chess.

It was wonderful to play again.

i was right! chess is important to erin 

Olesm frowned as he toyed with a bishop Erin had cornered with one of her knights. He moved it diagonally one way, and then frowned. Then he moved it another way and frowned again. He glanced up at Erin.

She stared back at him innocently.

He moved his piece back and forth around a rook she’d used to attack his queen, and then took one of her pawns with it. His frown didn’t go away, but he seemed content with the move.

Erin moved another of her pieces forwards instantly. Her knight – a scaly Drake with a buckler in one hand and a scimitar the other – took one of his pawns.

“Check.”

A susurration went through the audience around the two players. That was, except for Relc who had gone to one of the stalls to buy something to eat. Olesm leaned back in his chair and gave Erin an admiring look.

“Well done, I hadn’t anticipated that.”

“It was just a lucky move. Well, not lucky, but it was quite nice, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

Olesm moved his king sideways.

“Your turn.”

Erin pointed at the board.

“Oh, that’s check too. Sorry.”

Erin tapped her queen and pointed down the board. The Drake player grimaced and moved his king the other way.

“That’s check as well. See the rook?”

Olesm paused and blinked at the table. The crowd murmured more loudly and Relc came back to look at the table.

After a minute Olesm made a move that wasn’t check and the game went on. But now he took longer and longer between each move and his frown which had started about five minutes ago didn’t go away.

Meanwhile his uncle the shopkeeper watched the board with clear anxiety. He glared at Erin who smiled serenely back at him. Whenever Olesm made a move she would instantly move a piece and take one of his own or threaten his king. Eventually she stopped staring at the board and stared at the shopkeeper with a smile on her face as Olesm frantically searched the board for a comeback.

“Check.”

“Check.”

“Ooh, no check this turn. But watch out for your rook. It’s that or your queen.”

“Check.”

“Check. And it’s check if you do that too. And that…”

“Check.”

“Check.”

“Check.”

yep, seems like erin is quite good at chess, or at least compared to the people in this world 

thats the end of the chapter! will the shopkeeper try to renegade on his deal? will he try to claim erin cheated? will he be forced to supply erin with free food for life? will i keep finding ways to make this end but more and more ridiculous! 

see you next post! 

#chrono