30 May, 2011


I find myself in a very, very bad spot and I don’t know if this will reach you.

It all began badly and swiftly got worse. We emerged onto the lowlands of this cavern – a pasture for rothe, herded by some kobold slaves. We attempted to make contact but they ran off and – you won’t believe it – alerted their goblin overseers, at which point you have to ask: do these people really deserve any better than to be slaves?

Anyway. A couple of goblins came to investigate. I concealed us with an illusion, then we attacked. But we didn’t kill them quickly enough. One was injured and got away, and meanwhile we were hit by a group of six archers (Nice bit of tactics. Goblins, unfortunately, are not stupid.)

Proceeding further into the cavern, we eventually found a Kobold who was not a stupid coward. Quite aged (for a Kobold), and too infirm to bolt and run. Explaining that we were here to – you know – liberate them (well, His Lordship and Giacomo did that. I think they have me pegged as an albino drow) he told us that their leader (that is, of the kobolds) was an older female that lived in caverns under the goblin settlement, and that we’d have to speak to her.

Of course, this cavern is divided in two by a massive rift that goes down the gods only know how far – well down into the underdark – and this leader is on the other side, over a heavily guarded bridge. Oh – and there’s some stairs leading up to what I believe are chambers that once housed a red dragon some time ago, whom the kobolds still venerate. Anything could be living up there now.

The goblins were systematically sweeping the cavern for us. We decided that rather than attempt the bridge, Rainen could ferry us across. I gave clumsy dwarf a Reduce Person and he, His Lordship, and Giacomo all made it across without mishap.

Then our luck ran out. As Rainen was taking Rainor across, they were spotted, and presumably a drow cast Farie Fire on them. They flew up the dragon stairs.

And so we are split in three. Rainor and Rainen will be fine – they’ll wait for the spell to wear off and then assay the flight again. Jope and Giacomo are no doubt pleading their case to this kobold matriarch. Meanwhile, I am stuck on the wrong side of a rift that – on the right side – is no doubt swarming with drow. If I do get across, avoid the drow, the goblins, and get below to the kobold residences, they absolutely will not trust an albino drow that they do not recognise.

It’s … it’s not looking good.

So, Dave is off for two months and we are left with a cliffhanger. Fun times.

Kingmaker – not

23 May, 2011

We are doing Jope’s quest, at the moment, and Andrew was down with food poisoning. So instead the guys let me run them through the Paizo organised play module which I will be running for real and for true on Wednesday.

The idea is that I ought to have enough gear to simply run the game with drop-in players.

  • I was missing:
    •  something to wipe the mat with
    • minis for characters
    • spare character sheets
  • The water-soluble pens don’t work very well on con-tact, although they are fine of the regular vinyl.
  • There’s no substitute for just pencli, paper, and eraser
    • The guys blitzed the module – perhaps too easily, but they are very experienced players. Actually – some characters were dropped unconscious, so it wasn’t that easy. I handwaved one or two things (handed out a free cure light to everyone at one point).

      I missed one or two important things. I won’t forget them wednesday … but only because I have played it once already. I won’t get this sort of dry run wit the rest of the games. There’s no easy fix – I just need to do the job better, is all.

      Was a bit railroad-y. Organised play is a trifle soulless, not sure it’s really my thing. Not a lot of scope for role-play or originality – run the encounters, do the faction quests, and fill in the campaign sheet at the end.

      We’ll see how it goes.

Kingmaker – Giacomo’s notes-for-epic

21 May, 2011

Have forgotten what those jumping things were. I was very frightened when I escaped this way, but now with Jope and everyone is no problem. But now we are here – up there is where I escaped down the garbage chute. There are carrion-crawlers up there, but Jope lent Rainor his ring of not-being-paralyzed, so is all right. Everyone is very grim and fierce and has scary-face, because there are drow.
Yeah, I missed a week.
At long last far journey underground through forgotten cave and lightless river, past guards fearsome arrived Jope at drow-fortress, kobold-friend at kobold-bane and prison. Lithe Rainor did ascend through secret ways and beheld farm and fortress, place of captivity. Then did each ascend, grim and ready for war. Ancient hate hard on face of dwarf and elf, enmity bitter, for drow above did make dwelling. Beware thou, noble Jope! Beside the strides hate older than man, eager for war and havok.
The writer/translator of Beowulf was a big fan of alliteration:

Now each was to the other
All loathly while living; his body sore bided
The monster; was manifest now on his shoulder
The unceasing wound, sprang the sinews asunder,
The bone-lockers bursted.

Ending Islamic terrorism

10 May, 2011

The root cause of suicide bombing and other forms of suicidal terrorism is pretty straightforward to work out. Remember Columbine? The other school killings in the USA? Done by teenage losers. Male teenage losers. Male teenaged losers living in sexually repressive societies, where you don’t have sex until you are married.

You see, there’s nothing quite like the destructive rage and despair of being a 16-25yo male and knowing, beyond a doubt, that you will never, never get laid. Oh, you can laugh. You can say “Naaw, that doesn’t explain it” all you want, all I can say in reply is “You’ve never been there”. Alpha males (even beta males, who have a decent crack at some chick settling for them eventuall) will never understand. Women will never understand. You don’t get it – please don’t even try pretending you do. To know, without a doubt, that you have no future – nothing to live or work for, that in a society that values “family” above everything, you’ll always be a second class citizen.

That’s why you see these school shooting in religious communities, like bible-belt USA. All the chicks want to marry pastors. Or at least, someone in leadership. Or at least, someone who will be part of the responsible, respectable married-person crowd. And if there’s no-one, well, there’s a whole world of non-christians do date and marry, and that’s what they go and do. To be the guy whom the girls would rather go out with a non-christian than – there’s nothing quite like it, I assure you.

But what’s peculiar about Islam that makes this source of suicidal rage even more of a problem?


Yep – polygamy. It’s funny, you know. When people think of polygamy, they think “That means a man can have four wives! Cool!”. They don’t think “That means that most, most young men will never get laid, ever.” But that’s exactly what it means. Do the math. A wealthy middle-aged or older man has no trouble acquiring that third or fourth wife. What happens if you are not that man? Instead of one in fifty young men facing no future worth living, it’s one in ten, or five.

The Bible – written by tribal polygamists – describes sons as “arrows in your quiver”. Geddit? Young men in these kinds of societies are expendable. For most sons, your only purpose in life is to be shot at the enemy and to die and be forgotten: cannon fodder for the endless tribal wars. Hence the burquas and the rape. Why not rape? What will be the repercussions? Even if, even if, you are prosecuted and given the death penalty, at least you won’t die a virgin. Of course, they don’t prosecute it: killing young men of war-fighting age is a silly waste. (The “honour killings” make the problem even more acute: reducing the female:male ratio, particularly since it’s nubile women that get murdered by their male relatives)

The solution?


The only way to end the ongoing problem of islamic extremism is to make it possible for every young muslim man to get sucked off by a pro every now and then. It really is that simple. The west must make it possible to work as a sex worker and to use the services of sex workers in these societies without repercussions. Ancient societies understood this: they too were polygamous, but prostitution was an honourable – even sacred – way to make a living. And rightly so: they kept all those powderkegs of hormones and youth from exploding.

Whores, man. You know it makes sense.

As to how such a thing might be accomplished, that’s another story. But all those freshly-built military bases dotting the arab world make me think that it might not be as difficult to arrange as it might at first appear.

So, OBL is dead

4 May, 2011

They captured Saddam, dressed him in an orange jumpsuit, paraded him in front of the cameras, then after a show trial and a couple of months triumphalism they held a circus in which he was publicly executed.

OBL gets a a quick “double tap” then a secret and anonymous burial at sea.

You believe that?

OBL died years ago, people. Of kidney failure. But the MIC wanted a pipeline through Afghanistan and permanent bases to police it. Finally: Mission Accomplished, or maybe they just decided that it all was costing too much. Either way, this obviously phoney story gives them an excuse to wind down the theatre, which they will soon do.

No credit whatever to Obama. The US military has not answered to the civilian authority ever since the coup during Reagan’s so-called “presidency”.


3 May, 2011

We went into the dungeon – it was an underground cave system. It went down a long way. There was a river. I asked Giacomo to Remember it, but he didn’t know anything. There was some mould and oozes. There was loot, but the black puddings ate most of it. We shot a Cave Fisher. This young one is fun, which is good.


We are somewhere or other, deep in the proverbial bowels of the earth, looking for these enslaved kobolds (although I am not entirely sure what we intend to do with them should we find them). We have just passed a section of caves infested by slimes and oozes. Two oozes, in fact: Black Puddings. His Grace, Rainor and the dwarf engaged the nearer one, but Tom and I were sure that the other one had loot, and so we went to fight that one.

Our first shot was absorbed by the mould – some sort of, well, energy-absorption, obviously. So we moved closer to get a line of fire. Well, what do you know – we were hoisted into the air by a cave fisher. I Dimension Door-ed out, cast Improved Invisibility and attempted to get past it again, but its sensed me. The second time, however, I let it hoist me up until I had a clear shot and then zapped it.

And now, finally, the character starts to seriously work. Two hits with a scorching ray – 8d6. Plus sneak attack on both hits – 8d6. Plus a bonus on +2 on each sneak attack die with the Sniper Goggles – +16. That’s 16d6+16 fire damage which averages out to 72 points. With a ranged touch. I rolled well on the night, so it was 80-something. Charred that motherfucker. Thought and Memory acts as a Ring of Wizardry II, which adds 3 second-level slots – that’s 8 slots (a ring of wizardry does not double your bonus slots), plus a specialist caster slot (illusion), plus an additional one (in effect) from a Pearl of Power.

If we make it to level 12, that will be 3 rays off a Scorching Ray spell and 5d6 sneak attack each. Assuming three hits on something sneak attackable, that’s an average of 124.5 points. Of course: the fighter and ranger are doing a hell of a lot more at that level, round after round. But because of the multiclassing and the prestige class, my character does not need to spend high-level slots on artillery to be able to do respectable damage. The high level slots can be spent on utilities and special effects – enabling. Switch is basically Batman’s utility belt, with a gun.

Need a Rod of Energy Substitution. It’s all good đŸ™‚ .

I have my ring of Feather Falling, so no problem. Scrambled nimbly back onto the narrow, slippery rock bridge (did I mention that? No? No matter). The fighters disposed of the other Black Pudding and then moved in on the one eating our loot and dealt with it – our dwarf companion calling down holy fire from his god.

But all this had taken time. The Black Pudding had already dissolved much of the loot. What was left over was a couple of bits of mithril armour that appear to be Drow make … but the armour is sized for a small creature, which doesn’t seem to make much sense. His Lordship fancies himself the armourer, and was aghast that such nice metal should have been worked so shoddily. (Perhaps cast-off drow armour refitted by kobolds?)

I used a levitate to get the clumsy dwarf in full plate armour across the narrow slippery rock bridge (I levitated him, and the ranger pulled him in with a rope. It works.) We need to rest up and recuperate (I need to prepare spells again). And onward.

I hope these damn kobolds appreciate this, but if we get the chance to kill some drow it will all have been worth it regardless.

Yes, I will take care.