TNF: House Rules

15 07 2011

In this episode, 2 new gameplay rules were introduced.  The first was X-treme critical hits and fumbles.  The X you see, makes it that much more extreme.  Under this system, a critical is still a critical, however if you roll again to confirm, it becomes an X-tream critical hit.  These often only further increase the damage being dealt, but they can also be quite nasty, and quite deadly.  A critical fumble is triggered by a natural 1, followed by a second roll that would be a failure.  A lot of extra rolling to be sure, but ultimately a lot more exciting and interesting for combat.

The second gameplay element introduced was the minor action.  Taking a leaf out of the 4e tome, i assigned each member of the party a personalized minor action, to keep things interesting, and to alleviate guilt that i was mashing 4e and pathfinder monster stat blocks together. 

The fighter now taunts, aka, marks as a 4e fighter would.

The ranger can “aim” at targets granting cumulative tokens (thank you iron heroes)

The monk can now shift 1 square as a minor action

The cleric can Bless another, granting a +1 to the next die roll of any one ally with 5 square burst, or +2 if the ally is adjacent.

and the summoner can grant his eidolon a +1 to attack or def for one round

I figure that 2 more minor actions can be added in, at levels 10 and 20 respectively,  to further spice things up, in the meantime i feel that it give the low-level characters a little bit more to think about in combat than the standard move and hit, hit and move equation.


TNF: Herd of Cats

9 07 2011

Powa. Absolute poWa! You scared?


The votes are in… Thursday Night Fights has named themselves “Herd of Cats”

TNF – gnome gnapping

7 07 2011

Tonight’s session was delayed, and only consisted of one encounter, one very big, very bad, very crazy encounter.

hostage situation, negotiating with kobold terrorists?

The group had encountered kobolds before, but the fights had been very one-sided.  The kobolds surrendered and begged for their pitiful lives, which the players thought was pretty funny.  This fight was different.  They stumbled into this encounter only to find a female gnome caster being accosted by a mix of 12 kobolds, minions, skirmishers, and slingers.   Only marginally concerned for her safety they waded into battle, and what a battle it was.

gnome damsel in distress. copywrite blizzard.

The encounter was loaded up with minions, and thanks to a complete lack of AoE attacks the minions were able to swarm the heaviest hitting dps and drop him in the first round. (The gnome summoner’s eidolon.)  In subsequent rounds the kobolds managed to subdue both the gnome summoner and the female gnome and tactically retreat, free shift by free shift, back towards their lair.  McFightar, the party tank, got to flex his new armor and was literally a tank in this battle. Even the two lucky blows that were landed on him were deflected by his shield.

F’hal, the party cleric, managed a longe range heal on the gnome summomer as he was being dragged away, which brought him back to conciousness.  At this point the gnome summoned a back up monster while feigning death, and the beast he summoned proceeded to assassinate most of his kobold captors.  Ah yes… the hell viper, a 19 stealth balanced by a max damage output of 1. wait… minions only have 1 hitpoint… dammit


The session ended with the heroes and the Kobold shaman facing off across the seemingly prone body of the gnome summoner, possibly getting ready to negotiate, or possibly planning more bloodshed.

As a side note, this is a picture of how ridiculous a human looks wearing dwarven armor:

what? it says medium!

“We are going to need more holy water” -Season of the Witch

6 07 2011

*This post is one giant spoiler for the movie. you have been warned.*

This is not a movie review blog, and let’s face it, this movie couldn’t survive another review. I am talking about “Season of the Witch” at a hilarious 7% freshness rating.  While I can admit to a certain dirty, guilty pleasure, that of intentionally finding and watching terrible movies, I will be one of the first people to testify that this movie, was a terrible train wreck of shameful badness.  And I loved it.

While this was a terrible movie, don’t even joke around about using the word “film”, it was actually a really great D&D one shot adventure.

say what?

Think about it….

cast of characters: big knight, hero knight, squire(multiclass priest), priest/monk, rogue, random npc to be killed off first. players pick them or randomly assigned.

mission: deliver this witch to the crazy evil sounding obviously haunted monestary. “Savarock”… seriously wow.

settings: town full of plague victims, crazy bridge over bottomless chasm, “wormwood forest” (heck yea), haunted monestary

encounters: roleplay with the plagued bishop, illusion chase through plague town to recapture escaped witch, skill challenge for bridge crossing, wolf fight in wormwood, showdown with undead monks and demon in monestary.

"I made this same face the entire movie"

I am telling you, that would be an excellent night of over the top pulp fantasy horror goodness.

Heck, if I had the time and the inclination I would post the whole thing as an unofficial 4e one shot adventure.


Big Knight forgot his Hellboy makeup 😦

MNF Roster

6 07 2011


female teifling bard, party face, party tactician, primary heals


warforged battlemind, tank, surveillance specialist


human wild mage sorceress, party thief, glass cannon dps


human avenger of the death god, melee dps, off tank, craftsman


minotaur rune priest, off heals, off tank, melee dps

MNF Flashback: How we found Psyche

4 07 2011

The old man wept into his bushy eyebrows, so overgrown he had braided them into his long grizzled beard. Tears for the fallen.  The war machine, as we came to call it, had passed no more than 300 yards from the tiny woodland village of Foxshot. Lured by the promise of gold the village hunters, brave and hard men and women, 15 in all, had tried in vain to subdue or destroy the creature.  The king’s bounty placed on its head more than enough gold to feed the entire community through many winters.

Or buy the Horns of War a single magical item. Heh.  You gotta love that prime material world economy.

He rambled on some more, we gleaned info, knowledge is power, yadda yadda… Then the hot, yet unkempt village druidess came over to put in her 2 copper, gave us some healing potions.  We rifled through the dead, watched the last vision rites videos, the usual.  The War Machine was roughly the size of an elder dragon, sported multiple attacks, both physical and magical, and as we already knew from tracking the things for the past few days, it was fast.  Toss in a razor-sharp prehensile tail (the best kind), a strange electromagnetic aura, and some weird energy pulse that disintegrates everything around it and you have yourself a creature worth well more than the paltry 8 grand placed on its head.

It kind of looked like this… but covered in metal plating.  The spines on the back, there were 4 of them, were very active with electricty.

copywrite square

We rode hard to the village of Landsmeet, the next stop on the War Machine’s grand destruction tour of the Empire, there to lay waste to the beast and collect our bounty.  Talk about earning your next meal.  This thing was mowing through guards and townspeople like there was no tomorrow.   Bison, random fleeing knights, shop stands, anything metal it could get it’s aura on was being sucked in and used to build up and fortify its dense exoskeleton.  Physical attacks were practically worthless, but the combined spellcasting might of Skye and myself began to slowly chip away at the beast.  Dust lead the strategic assault on the creatures spiny back which it turns out was allowing it to vent excess energy in a huge intermittent nova blast of energy.

Close to death several times we finally wore down the last of its spines, robbing it of a way to vent its excess energies.  In a final play of insanity we knocked the beast into the stream running along the edge of town and quickly took cover.  The ensuing destruction destroyed nearly all of Landsmeet, but fortunately the War Machine as well.  Curled up in the center of the flooded crater that used to be a town was a man made of metal.  Rather than turn it in for the bounty we kept this metallic man, and as it began to recover, we began to call it our friend.

And that is how we met Psyche the magic robot, woo hoo, blah blah blah, the end.


digital battlemat for the fight:

Panicked crowds? Delicious!



*note it’s 230am and I am exausted… this was actually an extremely awesome fight, as most 4th edition fights tend to be.


1 07 2011

This body has potential, unlimited potential really.  The unique composition of living, organic materials, and cold inorganic minerals allows for growth, storage, and customization that would be life threatening, if not outright impossible on a purely organic body. But the process, the growth, is glacier slow.

The demon is speaking at us. She always does this, as if speech is the means by which her body processes oxygen.  We stare at her blankly. She huffs indignantly. We are neither rude, nor “stupid” as she often calls us. Just slow, this body is new, this mind, nothing but wood and sand. Sensing she needs acknowledgment, we nod, our metallic head pivoting on an infrastructure of fibrous vines and cables.

She is like mother to this form. Abandoned long ago to rot and rust, entombed in the crypt of its final masters as a guardian. We were reborn within its failing body, trapped, stillborn. Our essence the spark of life it needed to rise again, the body went on a rampage. Sorrow, loss, confusion, malfunction. This body vented these “feelings” on its surroundings. It carved a path of destruction and death. We rode as passengers, powerless, watching, our growth too slow to establish control.

Then she appeared, with her unusual companions. They fought the body, but their efforts seemed in vain.  With silver tongue and razor wits, the demon began to soothe the raging machine. The body relented, submitted, and in some strange twist of fate imprinted upon her.

It now insists on following her about, like a baby duckling, and we are generally inclined to allow this. We need time after all; time to grow.