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D&D Pathfinder campaign

Your Eternal Reward

Super-Earth
Joined
May 28, 2013
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the adventure of a lifetime! Whether that lifetime is short or long depends entirely on your actions, and that of your party. I have decided to DM a Pathfinder campaign (though could be persuaded into 3.5, given enough interest), and am looking for your input.

I've got a number of ideas, all set in the same world, but themed differently. The world is called Maaya and is a vast landscape of vibrant cultures and people (of course I use the term people very, very loosely) who want to kill you for reasons that can and will change.

In essence, I'm looking for 5-6 players for any of the following campaigns. Experience with pathfinder is unnecessary for the first two scenarios, but highly recommended for the other four (I would say required, but I want to leave room for potential exceptions).

So here's the deal. If you're interested, reply with your vote for which campaigns you want. You can vote for more than one, and include how regular you are in your vote. Do NOT vote if you do not want to play. If you have questions, I am available via PM.

The ideas are, very briefly, in order of starting level:

1. You lot have been drafted, probably against your will, and are now not only fighting against orcs with terrible dental hygiene,
but have found yourself stranded behind enemy lines after a rescue mission goes terribly wrong. (1)

2. A small-scale noir/infiltration campaign that takes place in a single megacity. Very stealth/skill oriented. Think AC or Dishonored. (3)

3. An aquatic campaign, complete with pirates, storms, merfolk, and use of the phrase "Release the kraken!". (E6)

4. Zombies? In MY medieval campaign? Medieval zombies! Think something like the Blight from DA:O or the White Walkers from GoT. (6)

5. A team of mercenaries, sent to secure a fortress in a location of strategic importance to the kingdom that hires them,
quickly realize why the fortress has been abandoned for generations. (8)

6. In what has been cataloged as an honest mistake, a cult of artificers seeking to use arcane means to cast divine magic
capture and enslave a god, and make the rest of them very, very angry. Angry enough, in fact, that they all conclude that
the mortal races need to be purged and recreated. You, as a mortal, aren't exactly jumping for joy. (15)


1. 1/5
2. 4/5
3. 0/5
4. 0/5
5. 3/5
6. 3/5
 
If I had to pick I would do 1, 2 or 5; in that order.

I'm usually about early in the week, though I'm on BMR at least once or twice a day.
 
I'm gonna vote 2 or 6. Both sound increadibly fun.

I'm on everyday and post all days but wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Most often in the evening Pacific Time.
 
Disliking low levels, and preferring higher level adventures, I would be interested in 6 or 5.

I'm on regularly almost every day, and have been on Bluemoon for several years. I'm very familiar with pathfinder, and prefer it over 3.5

Looking forward to seeing this actual get off the ground.
 
5 or 6

Those are the plots I'd be interesting. And my PM box is squeaky clean now so you can PM me normally. Thanks for the invite. :)
 
Name: Vimrys Korvel
Age: 68
Personality: Vimrys is a soft-spoken man, preferring to simply observe until and unless intervention is necessary. The glassy crimson of his optics can be unnerving, even eerie, but those who spend enough time with him soon grow accustomed to the look. His time among the Nephilim has come with a deep self-importance and a morbid, sarcastic sense of humor, but maintains much of the cold, ruthless devotion to efficiency that was drilled into him during his Dominion education. Born and bred a soldier, designed from head to toe, Vimrys, despite being able to stretch his arms during his time with the Nephilim, still often finds it easier to relate to an AI than to a more emotional human being, especially when it comes to a matter of a moral compass. To Vimrys, the means do not simply justify the ends: The end needs no justification.
Race: Human, In Vitro (Corvus strain)
Skills: Incredible sharpshooter, effective leader, trained pilot, survivalist and martial artist. Quick learner.
Job: Nephilim Sovereign. Ex-Dominion Sniper.
Military Affiliation: Independent Nephilim Sovereign.
Weapon: Anti Materiel Tranis Rifle. Attached laser with data relay.
Judge sub-machine gun. Attached grenade launcher.
Special Equipment: The Queen Bitch - Hercules-class ship with Nephilim grav-field tractor beam, comm. scrambler, anti-missile flak installations, and bi-directional thrusters.
Locust-class Dominion power armor. Titanium plating with joint freedom, jump jets, navigator, weather analyzer and EES (Extreme Environment Survival).
Tri-vision, zooming optical implants (light, heat, tremorsense).
Biography: I am the iron tip of my lord. I am the eyes that root out his enemies and the fist that grinds them to dust. I am the spearhead of his armies and the vanguard of his flock.
Or, at least, I was.
See, the lovely thing about the dominion is that ambition has no place in it. There are thinkers, doers and leaders, and if you so much as consider doing any more than you were meant for, you have a problem.
Needless to say, I had a problem.
I was born in a test tube, prescribed an enhanced genome, far from uncommon among the Dominion's military caste, and assigned to a live-in education program as a recon and assassination specialist. It's pretty much just as dreary as it sounds. I was barraged with information and propaganda stir-fried well enough it was impossible to tell the difference for the duration of my formative years while I was taught to read and listen through the same medium. With that out of the way, the remainder of my pre-adult life was spent honing me for my purpose. Unsurprisingly, sniper training was tough. Even with our pedigree genetics, the relentless drills and exercises drained more than a handful of my contemporaries to collapse, and consequently, death. There was no mercy wasted on those who shamed their purpose by denying it before it even began.
Everyone has their own way of motivating themselves to the finish line. Honor, bloodlust, the drive to live. I had never been one for honor or crazed lusts, and I had seen too much death to hold life to any intrinsic value outside of the functionality it granted. For me, it had become a game. A contest. I was the kid who did the work another way, yet always came up with the same sum. I had learned to turn what the Dominion knew as a vice into a virtue, and I reveled in it. So long as I was better than my competition, I was happy - there was no reason to improve further. And so long as I wasn't, it ate at me. At first I was alone, but the playful ferocity of contest spread quickly enough for as long as it remained unchecked, motivating some, utterly demoralizing others. What did I care? It was fun.
That 'childish' nature of mine served me well into adulthood, moving up from outer rim recon and surveillance through deep infiltration. The first discomfort was how the illusion of respect was given or not based on tradition rather than to who had earned it. It just seemed so silly. The vids always portrayed leaders as charismatic, knowledgable masters of their fields. The reality was far more bothersome. I found myself 'led' by arrogant prettyboys spewing theory after theory about tactics and logistics and using anecdotes from decades ago as a filler for actual battlefield experience. But, of course, they were designed to lead, as was I to follow, perpetually restriced by an unmovable ceiling. So, during one of my infiltration missions, I vanished. Died without a trace. Hid under a superstorm for long enough to stop my suit from sending pings with my vital signs back home. Wasn't all me, of couse. They taught me how.
The Nephilim. Their organization has a plethora of fences among the dominion and republic, even a couple Solars - along with recruiters, smuggler and enablers, agents who found and recruited me. But, of course, those are just the Nephs' equivalent of civvies. The real bread-winners, the ones who wanted me, were the pirates: raiders and pillagers extraordinaire. Ships, mining bases, even whole colonies. All the ruthlessness of the dominion with none of the fundamentalist bullshit. I was no longer a faceless goon fighting a faceless enemy. I was alive again.
Rising among the ranks of the Nephs was much faster because of the tighter, smaller, decentralized organization of power. That also, of course, meant workplace drama spread like wildfire, much to my dismay since the fact that I didn't care enough to offer my input made me a 'great listener'. Why they didn't just talk to a wall is beyond me, but I suppose it helped out in the long run.
See, any contest for the role of sovereign has two stages. The second is the one I was ready for from the start: the duel. But there is a preliminary that must be dealt with beforehand, lest a sovereign be drowned in ballsy, brainless challengers: the appeal. A challenger must have enough of a sphere of influence among the Nephilim of a sector to be taken seriously, and soon enough I did. My competition did not yield and the duel, which took place on a vast asteroid collesium known as the Cauldron, ended as quickly as expected. And with that, I became sovereign of the Theta Sector, cross-imperial space and home to some of the most lucrative trade routes in the galaxy.
Three weeks prior to the massacre at the intergalactic conference held in my territory, one of my bases was attacked rapidly and tracelessly by an anonymous enemy. Once the attack on the conference reached my ears, it wasn't that hard to put two and two together. Nephilim havens are usually comletely barren, and Fafnir's Eye was no exception. So that meant that any assault on a haven was to use it for its singular purpose: Being unreachable and undetectable. Once the comm. links went offline even we had no idea where exactly the asteroid-veiled starbase was. The only certainty is that whatever this was, it was an inside job. Best case scenario, we have competitors. Worst case... is something I'd rather not dwell on.

Character Picture or Description: Vimrys // Lord Korvel
Username: Raze
 
I will allow the Standard Drow adjusted down to 10 Race Points (basically take out the spell-like abilities).
Buccaneer is approved as is. Along with everyone else's choices.
 
As far as it stands right now, mechanics-wise it's pure pathfinder, though I am comfortable with 3.5 so I may be willing to houserule in a few 3.5 elements with tweaking for balance, if you ask nicely.
 
Ah, I was just wondering because I have never really seen a few of these classes in Pathfinder. I thought they belonged to 3.5.
 
They're class variants, one of the few things PF added from scratch from 3.5. Almost everything else is a simplification or a balance change, since paladins aren't worthless anymore and fighter isn't just a two-level dip. Skills and class and cross-class restrictions have been altered distinctly, too. But aside from that, anyone who's played 3.5 can play pathfinder.
 
Looks like we got a three way tie going. Perhaps we should have those that have voted state which of the three they would prefer.
 
If I have multiple campaigns hitting 5 players at the same time I'll probably just go for the players I think will be more regular/look like good RPers/like. I am, of course, open to hearing your preferences, so if you list your preferences I will read them, but I'm really just looking for a full team of 5 to start up a campaign as soon as possible. I may even start with 4 and look for a 5th to join in after the campaign starts.
 
If we're going off prefference now, I'm gonna probably swing toward 2 because I only am really used to Low Level campaigns at the start. Though I don't mind playing high level.
 
So while we wait to see what's going on for a campaign we could probably start character creation.

Such as how would you like us to generate stats? Also would it be possible to do a Ratfolk(Skaven) Gulch Gunner/Musket Master? I'd be will to drop the 9th lvl onwards musket mastery for what the gulch gunner gives.
 
I'm going to disallow the ratfolk, purely because Maaya does not have ratfolk. (Were-rats, however, do exist). I'm going to allow Gulch Gunner for dwarves, halflings (called hobbits in this setting, since in Maaya the term 'halfling' refers to anyone of mixed blood), and drow provided they come from underground, tunneling backgrounds. However, as a balancing issue, you can't use multiple archetypes if they have any overlap, unless one of the archetypes claims that certain changes can be overlooked, such as the Qinggong Monk, recognizable by the brackets around the X in the chart.
 
i'm in for the stealth scenario if you'll have me. playing a monk. around, most days
 
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