[PF-1e] The Grand Tour

[Dressedtojazz]

THE GRAND TOUR
A Pathfinder musical for 4-5 players at level 1

Game Name The Grand Tour

Game System Pathfinder

Theme Sandbox Golarion; politics and combat to gain power and wealth; establishing fame.

Flavour Hardpunching rhythmic touring of the world; rock n’ roll lifestyle; from the gutter and up the stairway to heaven.

Plot Summary Nothing comes for free! The budget for culture is on a de route all over the continent and every individual in the business of art and music, from the lowliest amateur folk singer-songwriter to the prestigious epic arch-bard of the Thousand Lions, feels this. It is a struggle and a battle of funds, prestige, and fame. This sorry situation has been building up over a full two decades, with the Worldwound war still needing endless funding and an uproar between Taldor and Qadira causing panic in trade and governmental politics in both Avistan and Garund. On top of that, the Cheliaxian Empire has tried to revitalize itself causing tendrils of black panic to surge throughout large parts of Southern Avistan. Some artists, however, can’t be so easily culled. If your heart is ruled by a passion for hard-cut drums, sensual horn serenades, apocalyptic doomsday poetry, or tantalizing tapdancing, you just don’t give up. You stand up for your right to act, produce and perform. You grab the bull by its horns, so to speak. There are lights in the dark too. Private investors, wealthy merchants, and private venues that rely on a constant flow of entertainment for their patrons are all willing to find solutions regarding the economy, accommodation, and travel expenses. Even the temples of the multitude of deities contribute with bookings and gigs, for the benefit of their followers. Bands and artists in Golarion are often more than meets the eye - the world is a dangerous place and when you tour from city to city or hit the straits of the Abendego, you need both raw muscle, foresight, strategies, and perhaps a sprinkle of magic. Often the musicians also stand out as adventurers who can take on the dangers of the world, when they are not on stage. The PCs in this game start out as a freshly formed band, with only a series of rehearsals in a backyard studio out of Lubbertown District in Riddleport, Varisia. They are far too inexperienced to get any of the good gigs in Riddleport, and they are far too poor to afford any of the good managers to help them out. The world is at their feet, but Navidair Laraskus, a friendly gnome scholar and a professor in world music (with a specialty in flutes), invited them to attend a propaganda event he has designed for the ChurlStock Festival in Wolf’s Ear. This might be the chance to get their first gig going... However, running a band is no small feat and there are several competitors for an audience and a meager payment out there.

For applicants Dear players, I am Dressedtojazz - an experienced game master both here and in regular tabletop RPGs. I write and play to have fun and as a creative outlet, which I find is so much more fun when it is done in collaboration with others. In this game, I am looking for 4-5 players that are willing to join the ride of a band as some sort of performer (musician, singer, dancer, etc.) and have fun exploring Golarion and building a story around this band. I will make sure that there are bumps along the way - both in terms of love, crime, world-spanning crisis, finances (or lack of the same), and faith. I am looking for players who like the gritty low levels and like to write stories that develop and build characters and relationships. No knowledge of Golarion as a world is needed and people new to Pathfinder 1ed are also very welcome. Deadline: 10/7 In an application I am also looking for these details: Name: Gender(s): Race: Culture: If you know Golarion, feel free to explain which region you are from. If you don’t please describe what kind of place you hail from. Class: Archetype(s): if any Role: in the band. I am not trying to make a specific band, with one lead singer and various instruments covered. If the best applications are all drummers, that's the band. Alignment: Age Category: Appearance: aim for two good paragraphs. I like to have an image as well, but if it is big, I prefer it resized. Personality: As this is important for me to visualize the band, try to be explicit in how your character works in a tight-knit group of 4-5 people. Background: try to keep it to a single good paragraph. In-Character Sample: How should I expect your character to come alive in the game. Thoughts, speech, and descriptions.

Information Starting Level: 1 HP: Max HP at 1st, roll for every subsequent level. Gold: Average Starting Wealth for your class + free tool for your role in the band. Expected Posting Rate: Once a week. Open communication about breaks is all we need. Stats: 20-point buy. XP: Fast. You will also gain experience rewards for completed gigs. Alignment: Any non-Evil alignment is allowed Class: All Core, Base, Alternate, and Hybrid Classes are allowed, including Unchained. Path of War and Psionics are also good. Race: Core, Featured, standard, psionics. Traits: 1 and the possibility to take ‘Winging it’ for free (see below). A drawback will earn you a trait, but only once.   Trait: Winging it You have always had an innovative knack for finding a lane for your dreams to come true. Set the art free. Source: Dressedtojazz Category: Basic (Campaign) Requirement(s): - Benefit: Choose a performance type. Choose an attribute. You may use that chosen attribute on all Perform checks made using that chosen performance type. Perform is always a class skill for you. Firearms: Emerging Rule changes: We will be using the feat tax fixes - learn more here We will be using background skills. Learn more here We will be using the rules for fame, with the fame being calculated for the band, not for individuals. Learn more here A word on magic In my version of Golarion where magic is common-place and has been that since the beginning, there are are also crafty scholars, mages, and scientists who have found ways to create anti-magic, or where only specified signatur-arcanists or divine casters can cast their spellsmagic-filtering zones. These are often referred to as ‘pockets’ and it is not rare to encounter such zones in the cities. Especially in areas where many people are gathered - this including concert venues too. This has spurred the pursuit of other ways to gain the upper hand if things turn sour, both among criminals, culture agents, and artists. As such, psychics and martial progress into the supernatural are not rare to see. Mechanically, I am not trying to dissuade PCs to choose casters, but just want to communicate that these zones are common. This might of course also be a boon to the party.

[Dressedtojazz]

Player	Name	Race	Class	Role	Status
OneDarkness	Marko Lazari	Human	Bard	Drums	WIP
CatCanCook	August	Half-Giant	Zealot	Vocals + Harmonica	WIP
Mrjoegangles	Motley	Human	Bard	Vocals + Lute	WIP
Triedtherest	Othello "Oth" Duchain	Human	Unchained Rogue	TBD	WIP
Amarga	Rokkaku Yogo	Human	Samurai	Vocals	WIP
Ursinorum	Bekunio Ardavin	TBD	TBD	Manager + Flutes	WIP

[Icereach]

Posting tentative interest.

[CatCanCook]

Would taking the Winging It free trait block taking any other Social trait?

Possible to take a drawback for an extra trait?

[Dressedtojazz]

@Icereach - good to have you here.

@CatCanCook - I think the ‘Winging it’ should be a campaign trait, which means that you can have another social trait. I will fix that in the description.
A drawback will give you a trait, yes. Will add it.

[Ursinorum]

Not 100% sure I wanna play a musician, would it be possible to make the temporary agent/manager of the band? Everyone needs a joe pesci..

Maybe the uncle or tutor of one of the players, someone that looks at the contracts and discusses wages while the band finds a better (proper) manager.. and then maybe stays as the wise voice of reason when the band start to become famous..

Curiosity, how much would it be a "regular" campaign vs the "band stuff"?

[Admin Dirk]

Originally Posted by Ursinorum

Not 100% sure I wanna play a musician, would it be possible to make the temporary agent/manager of the band? Everyone needs a joe pesci..

Maybe the uncle or tutor of one of the players, someone that looks at the contracts and discusses wages while the band finds a better (proper) manager.. and then maybe stays as the wise voice of reason when the band start to become famous..

That would be Fred Mertz.

[Icereach]

So now someone has to play Ricky. It's in the rules.

[OneDarkness]

Posting interest, and good to see you are still around DTJ

[OneDarkness]

Character App Marko Lazari Varisian (Human), Male, 24, Neutral with good tendencies Brazen Deceiver Bard / Drummer or Fiddler Appearance Marko is everything mothers and fathers fear in a young talented musician, thick black curly hair hangs down around his shoulders, and he has large eyes that are darker shade of gold. Near perfect olive skin and and well toned physique suggests he takes good care of himself, when shirtless a large raven in flight is visible across his the expanse of his back and is ringed in layers of symbols and runes. The tattoo work is quite impressive, and despite it all being done in black the artist had made clever use of shades to almost make the raven look alive, truly a masterpiece in its own right. He has an easy smile with the boldness of youth, and his voice is smooth and very easy to listen too. His attire certainly strays from what one might expect of the Varisian, tending more towards darker earthier tones with heavier fabrics and very light on embellishment or accessories. He does have a small collection of necklaces, bracers, rings and bracelets that he wears but favors leathers, and woods with only the occasional bit of metal or gemstone and never anything too flashy. A well worn backpack is always with him, and at his side he always has a sheathed small blade and a heavy set of sticks that could be used to drum both drums and flesh should they be needed. Personality Not surprisingly Marko rather enjoys being the center of attention, what young musician trying to make their way in the world wouldn't, and is always happy to spend time with those who are interested in his music or even just want to socialize. He was raised to treat all with respect so is as courteous with the street orphan as he is with the nobleman, but he has little love for those who belittle or demean others and will go out of his way to call them out on it which has gotten him in trouble a time or two. He is open minded about many things, and would happily do something just to experience something new rather than be trapped into doing the same old thing over and over again. He is supportive of his associates, knowing that if they all do well it reflects on all of them, even if its not about his playing but one of the others singing or play style it can help him grow and learn as a musician and open up those other opportunities. Along with being supportive of them, the travelling lifestyle has shown him that they are his friends and family as well for at the day when they put another festival, fair or town behind them they are the ones he is leaving town with. Outside of his music his next greatest passion is crafting, often with woods and leathers, making much of his own rings, bracelets, necklaces and the like and he has been known to give away some of his trinkets to those he finds interesting. Background Marko's early years were mostly unremarkable, his parents were travelling woodworkers who made trinkets and and small items that they sold at fairs and festivals so the travelling lifestyle was something he was quite used to and where he learned to work with wood. Marko has one younger sister who is married to the son of an alchemist that travels in the same circuit and never had any desire to leave the lifestyle. Neither of his parents were very musically inclined, his mother sang a bit and his father would clap along but no more than most of the travelling folk did when they stopped for the night. Marko's gift were for the most part simple luck, he had a natural grasp of the beat and often as a boy would be banging away with hands on any surface that might make a noise and was drawn to the shared fires of those with musical talents when they travelled together. His parents were supportive of his musical talents and got him a drum early and happily traded their services where they could with others to help him in developing his talents. He learned quickly and as he got older was offered spots within bands when they needed somebody to fill in, or they needed a different sound for a song or two. As he got better he focused more on his music and less on his woodworking, and when he reached the age of adulthood he signed on to travel with a group of musicians. He bid his parents farewell and stays in touch with them whenever he can, and his changed bands a couple times but is still looking for his big break. In Character Sample   Marko hopped gladly off the now stopped wagon, happy to feel the firmness of unmoving ground under his feet for the constant sway and bump of the wagon wheels these past few days had left him sore in places he had forgotten he could be sore. Glancing at the wagon's wheels he half expected to see them be warped and knotted but they certainly appeared round enough for the task which made him wonder if the driver then had purposely hit every bump or rock he could find along the way then. Probably because jimmy took his coppers at cards... He shifted his pack on his back and looked around at the small village they had just rolled into, did not seem like much more than small town living here but more shops than he expected which probably meant there was a lot of farmers or ranchers in the area. Not the most generous bunch with their coins, but they sure knew how to have a good time when the mood struck them just right. They were here for the Mid Summer Festival, with the promising of lodging and coins, and

[CatCanCook]

August Name: August Gender(s): Male Race: Half-giant Culture: Uhlahm Halfling communities in the Verduran forest, toward its southern end on the Taldor side, and not far from the Sellen River. Uhlam halflings, known for their love of intricate crafts and works, have inhabited the Verduran Forest for centuries. The Uhlam are known for their care and patience, enjoyment of simple comforts, and dedication. Class: Zealot Archetype(s): None Role: Vocals and a rack of harmonicas. His harmonica set is a going-away gift from his "kin" in Uhlan, made with love and bespoke for his over-sized hands. (Should he lose them, they would cost extra to replace.). As the band is small and people have to multitask: the half-giant hauls more than his share of gear, and acts as a bouncer. (As a bouncer, thanks to the blessings of Sarenae he can smack down trespassers or over-eager fans quite hard, with little risk of killing them.) Mechanical role: Melee (mixed striker and defender), with out of combat support skills -- as a face and to boost other faces. Alignment: Chaotic-Good; he means well, and does well, especially to his bandmates. But he's a free spirit, and it's riotous music and the art scene that he enjoys -- and that is a life beyond the pale of staid and traditional folk. Age Category: Adult Appearance: At eight feet in height and three hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, the half giant can make a naturally intimidating presence, looming head and shoulders over an average crowd. Yet a cheery smile or warm demeanor can quickly reverse most negative first impressions. His hair is dirty blond; his eyes pale blue. His hair and beard are scruffy and indifferently trimmed, reflecting a life on the roads of liberty. His style toward music varies from using intense, even intimidating bellows and roars, to more subtle back-up approaches, adding nuance and expressiveness to other musicians. He capers around the stage, with a lot of energy of body and soul, but no particular grace to it. He appeals most readily to an audience that appreciates a muscular, full bodied, common and accessible music. It is a sound rooted in the masses, but capable of refinement - especially as his skills continue to express. Geared up, he tends to wear heavy armor, a heavy spiked shield, and a glaive-guisarme. He is a clear brute presence in a battle, of clanging metal and roaring inspiration. But what is foes often miss is his ability to subtly intervene, to improvise, setting up his allies for wins as often as he does himself. Whether in a band or battle, it's teamwork that makes the dream work. Personality: Large and in charge; he doesn't hesitate to stand out in front and dish it out. He has a strict devotion to a personal ideal of musical excellence that he follows with reckless abandon. He brings big, bold, heavy handed passion to a set. But at the same time, with the heart of a professional he can a step back to support the band members, his aid supported by innate psionic power. He gets into their grove; he digs his mates; he helps a fellow out, come what may. Others in the band may be cleverer, more insightful, or quicker with their fingers: but he plays with strength and feeling to undeniable effect. His ambition is to take the raw, vital and passionate music of the street, elevate it, and shake and thrill all folk, from low to high -- to bring some light and joy into what is sometimes a grim and dangerous world. He deeply enjoys halfling virtues and crafts: but his hands were too large, his soul to filled with unsatisfied longings to stay simply content with his adopted people. Background: Like most zealots, August was adopted and raised by !! just kidding, but, hey, the mechanical efficiency!halflings. As a babe he was abandoned in the Verduran Forest, the largest woodlands in Avistan, which straddles the borders between Andoran, Taldor, and Galt. His ancestors must have had traces of fire-giant. He does not think of them often, though. He came to appreciate halflings as his brothers and sisters, and he wholeheartedly imbibe their culture and habits of cooperation and mutual support. In his music he tries to express their joi de vivre, but with an intensity which expresses his half-giant nature. He encountered a band of musicians passing through town, fell in love with music, and since then spent several years searching from the right band to join in. During that quest, he got shanghaied in a shipyard tavern of Cassomir, where he entered into a music contest, made a large bet, and lost. He has taken that one long sea ride is his life, west through the Inner Sea and then north to Riddleport. He has decided he detests sea travel; has a fear of the water, and he gets sea sick. So not again, if he can reasonably avoid it. People keep wanting to recruit them for their armies, crusades, or other endeavors. But a man must be true to whatever true passion burns in his soul. In-Character Sample: In Cassomir's sprawling shipyards, August was down on his luck and nursing a hangover when he saw ratfolk woman weaving through the crowd. He has been working at striking up a gig with Tamer and Lucyana -- he covering lute and vocals, she tambourine and uncovering herself as eye-candy. The lutist was a mighty fine player, but jealous. He couldn't stand it when August took lead vocals, or when he added Lucyana to his Collective to enhance her performance. Tamer wanted to control everything about that woman, and couldn't stand that the half giant had a psionic influence, no matter how minor and benign. Well, last night after a giddily fun jam Tamer had lined up drinks for August that were sugary and rich enough to hide their stupendous cumulative kick. Mid morning, the scoundrel had lit out with Lucyana, the crew's whole earnings, stolen August's pack and dropped his prize harmonica set in the latrine. The ratfolk woman made a beeline toward August. She sniffed. "You look awful. Smell awful too." August groaned inwardly. Of course he stank, he had to get that harmonica set, somehow. While dismantling the Tavern plumbing had been necessary but it had enraged the manager and set August in a mess of debt, all that injury beyond the smell's insult. Damn Tamer. And of course he looked awful, after what he'd been tricked into drinking. The whisker-face crone continued "I heard you fancy yourself some sort of singer. But, look at you. I want you as man-at-arms. Six months sea journey, pay is good." The scrawny hairy woman's voice was high pitch, and quaver. Each word was dissonant, the very opposite of August's own rich and melodious voice. A connoisseur of musical appreciation, he disdained her instinctively. (Sadly, had he known local lore better he might have realized she belonged to the Languedor clan, as famed for their traveling performing troupes as for their commercial vessels.) "I'll do such thing, I've spent half my time in this city turning down gigs like those. I'm a musician and I'm going to make my fortune singing right here, from taverns to guild halls to mansions." He burned with hunger to prove himself, but he'd seen so little of the world as yet to think the first big city he'd experienced, Cassomir, to be the very heart of it. The rat woman shrieked with unpleasantly piercing laughter. She leaped up on a table, waving her arm's and gathering attention. "You can't sing, you giant brute, you're a warrior-born, look at those sweet muscles," she tittered, gracelessly, "You'll come to nothing as a musician in this town. Why, I bet even I can sing better than you". The ratfolk's tongue practically tangled in her mouth, making a slight lisp. Was she drunk? "I'll bet you a hundred gold I can out sing you!" August blinked. He needed that money. He said, "Deal. Whoever the audience claps for loudest wins. Barkeep here judges." The barkeep was August's friend, as of these last two weeks. He and the band had done well by them. "You good for the money, boy?" taunted the oldster. The crowd was getting into cheers and jeers, and barkeep wore a smirk. "I'm good for my word," said August (not having the money, but certain he'd win, and even if not ... there was no way he was setting foot on a ship. Ships sink, don't they? And he didn't know how to swim, he'd wallow and sink like an overloaded barge, he was sure of it.) He say his heart out, and he was good. His focus was spot on. Sometimes when he played, he felt that he was both conductor and performer, able to analyze, critique and improve his playing even as he heart-felt belted out the passionate lyrics of a popular love song. He alternated vocals and harmonica, even slapped his chest for a bit of percussion. (Oh, for a full band.) It wasn't a perfect performance, but it was solid. The crowd clapped and cheered. He felt vindicated. He gave a confident grin to the old woman. "You tried, youngster," her voice was smooth, deep (for such a small frame), and melodious. He felt a sinking in his stomach. She tossed aside her weathered cloak, revealing garments of refined quality. Her style was, well, quite beyond all expectations for a humble boatworker's tavern. Operatic, formal: tapping octaves beyond any span he'd imagined a sing throat could manage. Her performance drew upon both pride in the regional culture, but it was at the same time mocking of the naive yokel from the woods. The crowd roared with laughter; and he was defeated. When the sailors came to escort him to his new duty as shipboard mercenary: he fought for his freedom. He knocked two men out before they swarmed him, beat him black and blue, and hauled him shipboard. He was introduce to a crew of rough men. "These are your mates, treat them right, an' you'll live or die as a band of brothers this spring and summer. Let them down and you'll carved down and used as bait. Your choice, big guy." And so, August spent long seasons at sea ... still never learning to swim. He earned pay to enough to replenish his gear, pay his debts, and he saw more of the world than he'd ever expected, though the labor was hard and sea-sickness was worse for him than most. At last he was a free man, in a distant land far from home, but keep to find a better band this time and resume his musical career. Stats: Str 18 (10 points, +2 race) Dex 12 (2 points) Con 10 (0) Int 10 (0) Wis 10 (-2, +2 race) Cha 16 (10 points) Alignment: Chaotic Good. Religion: Sarenrae (primary patron), Chaldira Zuzaristan (secondary patron): a halfling NG god of Mischief, Battle and Luck Traits: [free] Winging it (Campaign) - Str to perform. It's only a +1, but it's free, so why not. Adopted (Social) - by halflings -> Helpful (Halfling Racial) [drawback] Blade of Mercy (Religion: Sarenrae) Feats: [level 1] Enforcer [race] Psionic Talent: +2 power points Drawback: You take a –1 penalty on Bluff, Disguise, and Stealth checks, and the save DC of any illusion you create is 1 lower than normal. (As he is a Face, a ding to Bluff actually hurts a bit.)Vainglory   Skills: Bluff 1+3(class)+3(cha)-1(drawback) = +6 Diplomacy 1+3(class)+3(cha) = +7 Intimidate 1+3(class)+3(cha) = +7 Perception 1+3(class)+0(wis) = +4 [background] Performance: harmonica-assisted vocals. 1+3(class)+3(cha) = +7 [background] Handle Animal. 1+3(class)+3(cha) = +7 The zealot’s class skills are Autohypnosis (Wis), Bluff (Cha), Craft (Int), Diplomacy (Cha), Heal (Wis), Intimidate (Cha), Knowledge (history) (Int), Knowledge (martial) (Int), Knowledge (nobility) (Int), Knowledge (psionics) (Int), Knowledge (religion) (Int), Perception (Wis), Profession (Wis), and Sense Motive (Wis).   Half giant racial traits Fire Acclimated: Half-giants receive a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against all fire spells and effects. Vision: Half-giants have low-light vision (they can see twice as far as humans in conditions of dim light.) See Vision and Light for details. Powerful Build: The physical stature of half-giants lets them function in many ways as if they were one size category larger. Whenever a half-giant is subject to a size modifier or special size modifier for a Combat Maneuver Bonus or Combat Maneuver Defense (such as during grapple checks, bull rush attempts, and trip attempts), the half-giant is treated as one size larger if doing so is advantageous to him. A half-giant is also considered to be one size larger when determining whether a creature’s special attacks based on size (such as grab or swallow whole) can affect him. A half-giant can use weapons designed for a creature one size larger without penalty. However, his space and reach remain those of a creature of his actual size. The benefts of this racial trait stack with the effects of powers, abilities, and spells that change the subject’s size category. Naturally Psionic: Half-giants receive Wild Talent as a bonus feat at 1st level. If a half-giant takes levels in a psionic class, he instead gains the Psionic Talent feat. Half-Giant Psionics: Half-giants gain the following psi-like ability: 1/day—stomp. The manifester level for this effect is equal to 1/2 the half-giant’s level (minimum 1st). The DC for this power is equal to 10 + the power’s level + the half-giant’s Charisma modifier. Psionic Aptitude: When a half-giant takes a level in a favored class, he can choose to gain an additional power point instead of a hit point or skill point. Survivor: Half-giants gain a +4 racial bonus to Survival checks. Alternate racial traits Liberty or Death: The history of the half-giants speaks of them once being an enslaved race. Some half-giants have a built-in defense against being subjugated against their will. Half-giants with this bonus gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against mind-affecting effects. This trait replaces the fire acclimated trait. Psionic Resonance: Although considered by the uninformed to be violent and primitive as a race, many half-giants have a natural affinity to handling psionic items. Half-giants with this trait gain a +2 racial bonus to Use Magic Device checks to activate an item or to use a power stone. This trait replaces the survivor trait.   Average starting wealth 175 gp 17 gp Large spiked wooden shield. +2 AC. 1d6 20x2 Piercing. 15 lbs. (large-sized spikes would be 34gp and 2x weight for 1d8 damage - waste for just +1) 24 gp over-sized (large) glaive guisarme . 2d8+1(trait) 20x3 Slashing. 20 lbs. brace, reach, may dismount riders 48 gp Cold-iron (large) warhammer. 10 lbs. 2d6+1(trait) 20x3 bludgeoning 50 gp Scale Mail. 30 lbs. +5 AC. 0 gp Sling. 1d3 20x2 and -1 to hit. 0 gp 10 sling stones. Free. 5 lbs. Subtotals: 139 gp. 74 lbs 36 gp left over. Light encumbrance = 100 lbs. Total AC: 18.   Collective, compartmentalized aid, zeal +1 Power points: 1 (level 1) + 2(race) + 1(charisma) + ??? (sleeping goddess talents) Maneuvers known: 5 Maneuvers readied: 3 Stances known: 1 Maneuvers: (Golden Lion) Encouraging Roar (boost) (Radiant Dawn) Dismiss (strike) (Radiant Dawn) Bolster (counter) (Sleeping Goddess) Flash of Insight (boost) (Sleeping Goddess) Harmony-Shattering Strike (strike) (Piercing Thunder) Phalanx Lancer (stance) The disciplines available to him are Eternal Guardian, Golden Lion, Piercing Thunder, Sleeping Goddess, and Radiant Dawn (swapped for Solar Wind. ) A zealot is proficient with all simple and martial weapons and with all armor (heavy, light, and medium) and shields (except tower shields). Some ideas for future development: make the intimidation theme come on line, and be a more helpful ally. Zealot 2. - Conviction => Combat conviction => Hurtful Zealot 3. - Feat => Extra traits: Community Minded and Battlefield Disciple Zealot 4. - FCB Conviction => Personality Fragment: Psicrystal (+3 intimidate)

[Icereach]

Could an ecclesitheurge cleric use the "ideals" option? I know it seems counter to the concept, but I had a tentative idea of a character that worships the Big 3 as a unit. I decided to go with my original concept.

[Mrjoegangles]

Motley Name: Motley Gender(s): Unknown (They/Them/It) Race: Humanoid Culture: Their accent is ever changing, as is their modes of speech and mannerisms. No one know exactly where Motley is from, including possibly, themselves. Class: Bard Archetype(s): Busker Archtype Role: Singer, Lutist Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Age Category: Most evidence seems to suggest somewhere between teen and middle aged. Appearance: Dressed in an unusual and constantly changing array of ill fitting and ill kept patch-worked rags and armor, and always covering their face with an ever growing assortment of masks, Motley is an easily identifiable but impossible to define entity. Though their outfit is always adapting, Motley tends to stay consistent with it’s Fool’s regalia and porcelain masks. Anyone willing to search the rascal will also find an odd assortment of edged weapons, hinting at a dangerous persona beyond that reflected by their colorful outfit. Personality: Quicksilver in temperament. One who sheds their moods as quickly as they sheds their outfits, Motley is a volatile trickster, a sensitive poet, a capricious scalawag, and a stoic philosopher all at once. While quick with jest or jibe, the fool is also capable of subtler linguistic skills. Though it’s accents and voice are as mercurial as the rest of them it is clearly a being of some intelligence, capable of displaying a wide variety of skills. A skilled performer, Motley is known to pass the time with a song, those fortunate enough to hear them perform have said it’s music is hauntingly beautiful. Background: True to form, Motley’s history is also colorful, enigmatic, and constantly in flux. Perhaps it does not remember their history, or perhaps it is it’s nature to constantly reinvent themselves. But those that ask always learn something new about the Jester (Motley too, often learns something about themself), though often rife with contradictions and impossibilities, the stories are at the very least entertaining. In-Character Sample: The hooded figure took the stage to the lull of the busy common room, still early evening the inn was packed tonight as the final harvest had been finished and the local farmers had nothing but a long winter awaiting them for the foreseeable future. Pulling out a stool the bard sits and slowly tunes their simple instrument by the soft glow of the candles strewn about the tables and single chandelier above. The light strumming of the lute quieting the crowd as they end conversations to turn and prepare for the nights entertainment. Those at the tables closest to the stage peer into the shadows of the bard’s hood, but only a flash of pure white is seen as their head turns slightly to cover themselves up once again in darkness and shadows. A single forceful note echoes out from the lute, the sound of the chord silencing the last of the conversation as it hangs in the air. As the sound dies down only silence remains, the crowd sits self-consciously as the pause continues, feet twitch and bottoms shuffle and the uncomfortable stillness envelopes them all. Finally, just as someone had worked up the courage to speak did the Lutist raise their head from it’s instrument, revealing their porcelain face to the surprised crowd as they begin to sing. A haunting melody, a song of love found, and love lost, and finally of love now forgotten, the crowd sit’s mouths agape as the masked figure captivates them with their song, it’s own frozen expression seems to be crying as their fingers finally begin to move, the strings of their lute joining it in harmony as they start to increase the volume and tempo of the song. Transfixed the crowd can only watch and stare, barely able to breath as the masked creature’s fingers dance over the lute and it’s voice raises itself up to the rafters before reaching a crescendo and stopping once again. The song over, the spell broken, those in the crowd touch their cheeks and look at tear-stained fingers; emotions wavering as they try to come to grips with what they had just heard. A sudden crash sends them back to the present and has them looking back up to the stage where the grinning porcelain mask of the bard stands over the knocked over stool and begins to attack the strings of their lute in earnest as it’s feet stamp the floor in rhythm. Cheeks still wet from crying the crowd finds itself stamping their feet in tune as men and women start to stand up and grab ahold of each other for a impromptu dance as a familiar jig takes over the bar and the sound of merriment and laughter roll out into the cold empty streets.

[Dressedtojazz]

@Ursinorum - I will first be looking to assemble a band, then add other characters if there is room for it. It does not have to be a musician you are pitching though. Any kind of performer, but you willalso have to handle everything else around the band - at least for starters. Angry mobs, contenders, politics and such.

There will be regular stuff happening around the band, but probably less spelunking and undead erradication than an average crawl adventure.

@OneDarkness - likewise.

@Icereach - okay. Looking forward to see the original concept.

@mrjoegangles - good to have you here.

@Dirk - joining the fray?

[triedtherest]

Othello "Oth" Duchain Name: Othello "Oth" Duchain Gender(s): Male Race: Human Culture: Taldor Nobility (disinherited, for now!) Class: Unchained Rogue Archetype(s): Phantom Thief Role: Lead Lutist, Public Relations, information gathering. Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Age Category: 28, Adult Appearance:This long-haired albino gives every impression of being a pampered fop, he usually likes to dress well, though obviously not at the beginning of our story, and has the frame of someone not used to physical labour. This appearance is not by accident, as "Oth" realised early on that spoiled brats are easy to underestimate, so made every effort to look like one, to give himself the upper hand. Personality: Falls in and out of love easily, and always seems to pursuing someone. Flattery is his preferred trick for getting what he want. For a rich brat, he seems to be fairly independent. He would describe himself as a free spirit – no one tells him what to do, being asked is a different matter, but demanding things of him is the quickest way to get his back up. He can't resist a pretty face. Background: The Duchain's were one of Galt's richest and most influential families, that was until the Bloody Revolution forced them to relocate to Taldor roughly 50 years ago. With the bulk of their fortunes lost, the Duchain's had only the vestige of their family Name to capitalise on. Marrying into lower-born, but still relatively wealthy Taldane Nobility was the only thing keeping them afloat in those early days. Nowadays, they are not quite so desperate, as the the Duchain's possess respectable Holdings, and the present generation can indulge in more indolent pursuits. Enter Othello, this Duchain Scion exhibited a great intelligence at an early age, and so great expense was spent in order to teach him whatever he wished. While he mastered the rudiments of just about every skill you could possibly think of, he lacked the discipline to see anything through, getting bored and going onto his next fad. One of the few skills he had focused on, was the ability to use his wit to talk rings around people, making him something of a charmer, particularly with the ladies of the Court. His Father hoped that Othello's glib tongue would allow him to find a Rich and Highborn Wife, but his habits with his lessons had transferred into his social life, and he went through dalliance after dalliance, eventually raising the ire of a couple of the more important families. Desperate to avoid a scandal, Othello was disinherited and thrown out of his families Estate. With just the clothes on his back, and a fancy lute that he had grabbed from his room, Othello (who decided to just shorten his name to "Oth") made his way from town to town as a busker, until a group heard his playing and thought that he would be a good fit for them. In-Character Sample:   "Now, to be fair..." started Oth, holding out his hands in both contrition and surrender. "...I never actually said I was a Bard!" "Fat lot a good it'd do us nah, anyway!" Said Gnimble the Gnome, his own arms outstretched, from next to him. "SHAAADUUP!" Yelled the Ogre, who from their perspective, was walking on the ceiling next to them. The reason being, was that they were hanging from manacles, by their ankles. Like meat hung up in a larder. Exactly like meat hung up in a larder! The Ogre took out some of it's frustrations out, by batting at the duo, so they swung on their hooks, out of control. It lost interest, when Oth twisted his body, and on his return swing, smacked into the Ogres midriff, face-first! "STOOPID 'UMIE!" Barked the Ogre, before trudging off for either a snack, a nap, or to find something else to hurt. Gnimble waited for it to leave, before chuckling. "OK, I guess it was kinda my fault too. Shoulda' checked you could actually use it, before throwin' tha' Wand at ya'...why're you grinnin'?" Oth's lips opened slightly, and a metal key poked out of his mouth. "Key to the manacles! I snagged them off his belt when we collided!" He grinned lopsidedly. "You sneaky begger!" Breathed Gnimble. "I love it when a plan comes together!"