Prepare for long-winded Vogon poetry, y'all.
The following is going to be mostly about role playing. It may not be the only entry about role playing I post today. Heh. I come home hopped up on adrenaline and apple soda, and I want to type about role playing into the wee hours of the morning. Then I fall asleep, wake up, and type about it some more.
The night before last I had a spooky nightmare. I was home visiting my family, only we were staying in some kind of Vacation House. I had somehow forgotten it was Christmas morning, so I was running around half-dressed and badly groomed, leaving messes all over the place, with all my relatives showing up to stare at me. I ran to hide from my relatives in the garage off to the side of the bungalow, but when I got there I found all my friends from role playing waiting for me. They lectured me severely about leaving the door unlocked at night. 'If you must go outside at all,' they said, with many wags of their respective fingers, 'you have to remember to shut the door and set the zombie trap!' They were all very stern with me - me *specifically*! - as if I am the sort of person who forgets to shut the door. Pbbt!
The zombie trap turned out to be a piece of plywood that you would lean up against the door from the inside. Tricky. 'Shouldn't we trap all the windows, too?' I asked. My role playing friends looked at me like I was being unforgivably obtuse. Zombies can't get through glass, they said. Everybody knows that. Haven't you read the core rulebook?
Then we went out for an early dinner. We were having fun and heading back to the car; the sky was just beginning to go all twilighty. Then came the subtlest shift toward darkness, and SUDDENLY THE STREETS WERE OVERFLOWING WITH ZOMBIES! It looked just like that musical number from Singing in the Rain when all the flappers run in out of nowhere, only... zombies.
So we all piled haphazardly into a beat-up van - quite possibly a Volkswagen Minibus - and slammed the door behind us. The only way to get through the press of zombies was to mow them down with the van, but with zombies everywhere as far as the eye could see, I knew that in order to exit the van and get back inside our house, we would have to defeat enough of them to weave a safe path to the back door that we had so cleverly zombie trapped.
I found my role playing binder in the back seat. I felt certain that I should know some kind of a spell we could all use to get past the zombies. I thought it might be a spell with some kind of a force tunnel that we could crawl through to safety, and then the force tunnel would collapse and roll over the zombies and crush them once we were done using it. (Uh, there is no Force Tunnel Zombie Crushing spell, just in case you were wondering. Especially not at first level). But I couldn't think of the name of this spell in my dream, and if I couldn't think of its name, I couldn't announce that I was going to cast it on my turn! I was fumbling with my role playing binder to find the name and the stats of the spell, but my hands were shaking *sooo* badly I couldn't even turn the pages. I gave up, put down the binder and picked up my laptop instead. Only my hands were still shaking, and I kept typing the wrong words into the google search window. I would think the words I wanted, type some other words instead, select them, delete them, then type a whole new set of wrong words. I just COULD NOT find that flippin' spell, and all the time I was searching for it we were just driving around and around the block, running over zombies in our van. MORTAL TERRORZ!
This dream, I am sure, occurred in anticipation of last night's role playing session, our first with (mostly) new characters and a new scenario! We wrapped up the previous module last week. I was hoping the quack doctor would take all the items we found, combine them into some kind of magic gundam suit and attack us, so that we'd have the satisfaction of proving the sheriff was an idiot to take the silly doctor's side and also an excuse to kill the fraud. The sheriff along with him, if possible. (Heh. Turns out I'm a bloodthirsty little gnome, if you yell at me and send me off on a wild goose chase). But we brought the stuff, the doctor made his stupid little magic shroud, the Sheriff turned us loose and we got back the shiny dagger that started it all. Not even a modicum of bloodbathery! In fact, the most fun part of my first-ever module's conclusion was when we had to go back and attempt the minor task at which our rival adventuring party had failed. It wasn't meant to be the last task left, but as previously discussed, we apparently did the module all out of predicted order. We had to coax a magical web-footed water-dwelling girl to give us the vial of pure water that was the source of her secret spring. 'A womanatee!' the wino-cleric shouted. The other (sober) cleric was carefully wading into the water, making perception checks and using spells to detect magic. He was preparing for a serious negotiation. 'I'm going to charm person!' the wino-cleric announced. Everybody tried to convince him not to do it (well, not me, because I didn't remember enough about 'charm person' to care), because if he failed, the womanatee would know he had tried to manipulate her with magic and that would make her less inclined to cooperation of the ordinary, willing variety. 'Too late! I already did it!' said the wino-cleric. But he succeeded. The womanatee became his new best friend. In exchange for her help, we gave her a magical Ring of Swimming that we had found somewhere along the way. I'm not really sure how a Ring of Swimming solves the problem of her magical spring drying up, but it was her idea, and she seemed to think it would work, so I hope she knew what she was talking about. (And/or I hope that we took her vial of pure water back to her afterwards. Ninpen Bittmotten was a selfish little gnome, but I think she'd take the vial back; she'd just grumble about it the whole way).
The intention of this first brief adventure had been to familiarize all the no0bs (like myself) with game mechanics and give everyone a chance to observe the options and think about what sort of characters we really wanted to play. After the experience, I'm still not sure I have a clear favorite class. I kind of want to try them all eventually. I know initially it seemed to me that there were far too few options in the game, perhaps because I had been taught that all the classes a player could possibly choose fell under four total categories: fighter, cleric, wizard, thief. (This is the reason we had two clerics. Because when the fifth guy in the group showed up after our first session, he was told 'we already have one of everything, so you can pick whichever one of the four kinds you want.') I mean, an entire fantasy world, with only *four* types of heroes?!! WHUT. I was like, 'This game has been around for decades, and I could invent you another half a dozen classes tonight, man. And I just got here.'
Now that I have my own copy of the rule book, though, I can see that while there is some truth to this mode of categorization - divine casters are mechanically different from arcane casters; rogues get special combat and skill privileges that melee classes don't get, etc. - each class does have something quite unique and cool about it, even the various kinds of fighter. (There are also Prestige Classes, if you are getting bored with the standard choices and need something to keep you interested. These are specialized roles that you have to earn - grow into - by starting out as a core class, acquiring a certain number of prerequisites, and transitioning into the new role as you level up. Prestige classes have profiles like world explorer or magic scholar or master-archer-who-puts-spells-into-his-arrows-and-shoots-them-at-people). But, anyway, yeah. I knew from the beginning that I would eventually be presented with the opportunity to change characters and pick a new role, and I've been working to familiarize myself with the options.
I enjoyed my roguish gnome character, Ninpen Bittmotten, especially at times when I could take advantage of my small stature - letting the bigger types throw me upstairs and whatnot. (Ninpen was probably poorly conceived, from both storytelling and utility standpoints, but she was still amusing, and I drew her a lot of outfits). I swore from the beginning that I never wanted to play a character too big for a Riding Dog. I also had zero initial interest in being a wizard-type caster. Wizards get a lot of power (blah, blah, powerful blah), but they also get big responsibility, a lot of work, and a lot of conditions - like eight hours of sleep every night or you can't cast spells the next day. Teeedious, methought. So I was taken totally by surprise when my next character sort of leapt out of the book at me, fully formed, and was everything I was convinced from the beginning that I'd never bother with.
She's a half-orc aberrant sorceress. Half-orc means you're nearly seven feet tall (no Riding Dog! unless you could strap one to each foot?) with grey or green skin, a prominent forehead and tusks. Not much of anybody likes the look of you, and your orc parent and human parent probably didn't... get along. Sorceress means exactly like a boring wizard, except you cast spells spontaneously (less preparation, yay), and don't get to know very many spells at one time (less versatility, boo; choosing your handful of spells known is sort of like having the wizard's daily responsibility - choosing spells memorized - magnified exponentially but only when you're planning ahead or picking a new spell). Aberrant is the name of the bloodline from which my character gets her spontaneous magic powers. Some sorcerers are part dragon or blessed by the gods. My character is part aberration. Meaning: she has some sort of mutant or alien blood in her ancestry and can shoot acid out of her hands, heehee. At third level, she develops the ability to stretch her arms twice as far as normal, so as to make touch attacks against characters standing ten feet away! And the capacity for arm stretching will only grow, given time! CREEEEPY!!!
It was just so compelling and weird, friends. And when I found out - because it felt more like 'finding out' than 'making up' - that this character was also a foundling raised by hobbits, it sort of sealed the deal. I mean, poor Alimordae with her head-to-toe grey freckles and her tusks, growing up faster than all her (much longer-lived) siblings and getting bigger and bigger all the time. Barely fitting into hobbit holes and forever breaking the furniture!
I've been working on making my character the synthesis of an incurably - though not at all willfully - odd personality and an entirely conventional, rather sheltered, rural upbringing. Alimordae thought that she knew what it was like to be stigmatized and to feel like an outsider in her little town of Birk Delving, and she rather naively assumed she'd fit in better - and understand herself better - if she could just get out into the world and find a place where the chairs were her size. Maybe meet some other half-orcs. (In the two years or so since she left home to Seek Her Fortune, Alimordae has met some half-orcs, but they make her more uncomfortable than any other kind of person. Society steers most half-orcs toward rather brutish roles in life, and few of them have the benefit of Alimordae's good home and decent education. Having narrowly avoided matriculation in the half-orc school of hard knocks, Alimordae probably seems giddy and frivolous to most of her distant kin, and they tend to seem coarse and violent to her).
Because it's the orc side of half-orc which is so widely regarded as ugly and bestial and which inspires hatred and suspicion, Alimordae learned to blame her orc side for all of her problems and peculiarities. If she lost her temper, people would say it was her orc side coming out. If nobody wanted to ask her to dance, it was on account of the orc side. If she, you know, shot acid out of her hands by accident one day: orc side. Probably some kind of half-orcish side effect, right? (Even now, I don't think she knows enough about herself to know what an aberrant sorceress is. She just knows she can produce some weirdish spontaneous magic effects; she doesn't have a good explanation for them). She spent her childhood weaving herself a story about the beautiful, kindly human mother who was victimized by orcs (the core rulebook points out that orc chieftains will kidnap human women in an effort to produce offspring with the improved human capacity to be battle strategists) and probably died getting her child to safety. Alimordae purposed, with firm resolve and ample naivete, to go out into the world, become a powerful spellcaster, and act as an inexorable force of freedom, finding all the mothers and children held captive by orcs (wading into battle surrounded by leaping flames, tossing orcs to and fro with her finely honed telekinesis...) and liberating them.
This dream became so potent that she nearly made a *very* stupid mistake. Still quite young, with next to no magical abilities (no flames, no weapons, no finely honed telekinesis), Alimordae came to a town where she overheard a local legend - a story that probably only came up that day on account of her arrival. It was about a local personality: an overconfident, showy mage who called himself Odd Lodrick. Odd Lodrick, the legend went, was kidnapped by orcs - probably to make them some half-orc babies (which was funny, the drunken fellows in the tavern seemed to think, because that's the sort of thing that should only happen to women) - and never heard from again. Alimordae didn't think, she reacted. She didn't care that she wasn't ready and that she knew next to nothing about the man in the story or the orcs who captured him. This was exactly what she'd been waiting for her whole life. She went directly to the one small shop in town to sell all the valuables she had left and buy herself a used wand or a handful of smoke pellets or something. She was going to track down those orcs and liberate their surviving captives, including any half-orc children like herself.
She probably wasn't too subtle about her intentions. Fortunately for my poor daft character, the shopkeeper was a kindly woman of middle years named Gemmen who perceived what Alimordae had in mind and took her quietly aside. The story is true, Gemmen told her, but it happened many years ago, and Odd Lodrick didn't disappear forever. He was captured by orcs, but he came back just once, more than a year later, carrying with him a half-orc infant. His child. Bezel Lodrick had been a flamboyant fellow who was never shy about the fact that his bloodline granted him bizarre, fantastical powers. He kept little about himself, his family or his exploits a secret. He was a good man, but an arrogant one. If orcs will kidnap to augment their clans with human intelligence, one supposes they may also kidnap to acquire singular, hereditary arcane powers? The orcs kept Odd Lodrick bewitched, distracted and exhausted, so that he hardly knew where he was and couldn't cast spells. One day, however, he marshaled all his willpower and managed an escape. He cast a spell that allows short dimensional teleportations - the kind of thing you could use to go from room to room. (It's called 'dimension door,' for the record, and I plan to use it too, when it becomes available to me). He took the child of his captivity along with him, determined to take her someplace far away, safe and obscure. He could only stop in his hometown long enough to eat a hot meal, replenish his supplies and say goodbye.
Gemmen's story threw Alimordae for more than one loop. She was a smart girl, even if she was also quite foolhardy at times. She did the math. She picked up on the bit about the weird arcane powers and also on the careful, fond way Gemmen spoke of the missing mage. If Odd Lodrick only came back to town for an hour or so and nobody else seemed to know about it...? Alimordae realized that Odd Lodrick and Gemmen probably had some sort of understanding before she and her orc kin came along and messed everything up for them. She felt strongly drawn to Gemmen, but also curious, ashamed and overwhelmed. He childhood fantasy of a beautiful, kindly mother was probably untrue. Her mother was most likely an orc. Alimordae didn't even know how to imagine her mother anymore. Her father might be alive, but no one had seen him in eighteen years, and if he knew what was good for him, he was probably living in hiding under a different name. Alimordae knew she might never find him - and she certainly wouldn't, she realized, if she continued to indulge a family tendency to idiotic exploits and open displays of magic. Given the approximate age of the infant in Gemmen's story, it was even conceivable (badump-bum) that Alimordae might have a full brother or sister somewhere out there. (To this day, she makes a point not to think about that uncomfortable possibility, for all her half-orc-liberation idealism). Certainly there might be any number of half brothers and sisters - human, orc, or even half-blood kin of some other sort.
It was Gemmen who told my character that the infant's name, according to Odd Lodrick, was Alimordae. (He named her for his grandmother, who was the child of the aberrant union from which both father and daughter derive their bloodline powers - though she doesn't know any of that yet. If he could, Odd Lodrick would probably tell his daughter that she comes from a long line of very strange women, and they turned out just fine). My character claimed the name for herself after she fled town in embarrassment and confusion. It may have been a bit of a leap, based on a huge coincidence, but Gemmen's story fit with everything she knew about herself, however little that might be. Alimordae figured that by adopting the half-orc infant's name - probably her own - she could a) avoid endangering her adoptive family by being traced back to the halfling village of her childhood, b) signal to Bezel Lodrick, were he still living, where to find her, and c) sound a little more badass than she would if she went by her hobbit name. People are less apt to take an avenging sorceress seriously if she goes by the name 'Rhododendron.'
Alimordae also realized that her lack of common sense (low wisdom modifier, LOL) was apt to get her into trouble. Just knowing you lack common sense isn't quite enough to give you common sense, but in Alimordae's case it was enough to persuade her to ally herself with an older, wiser friend and confidante. Rashi Tomag is a half-elf cleric of Sarenrae, the goddess of fire and redemption. Alimordae met him on her travels, and they bonded over their shared hatred of injustice and oppression. (Though I daresay Rashi's righteous anger is more sophisticated and better-considered). Rashi is played by the same guy in the group who used to play Terli Ampo (he got the syllables from staring at his wife's waterlily shampoo), another half-elf cleric of Sarenrae, goddess of fire and wisdom. Some of the people in my group wanted to play all-new characters. Others were interested in playing out the roles they'd begun in the first campaign. In order to keep everyone at the same level of development, we all agreed that we'd either create new characters from scratch or rebuild the old character concepts with new stats. Terli Ampo, bless his heart, was a lot like Rashi Tomag, but he had extremely low charisma, so he didn't like much of anybody and (it was supposed to be the case that) nobody much liked him. (Actually, we liked him anyway, even if he was a grumpy bugger). 'Nobody but nobody makes friends with Terli Ampo!' was the refrain.
Ninpen Bittmotten called him Surly Ampo. Affectionately, of course. Anyway, Rashi Tomag has all of Terli Ampo's good qualities but his charisma isn't as socially crippling, LOL.
Now Rashi and Alimordae have both found their way to and settled in Westcrown, a bustling metropolis that derives its prosperity from a pact with an infernal deity - and also the site of our next big adventure! The GM says this one is going to be epic in scope, an adventure path that will take our characters all the way from level 1 to level 20, with a bunch of little mini-arcs along the way. There's a harsh, cursed regime to resist, lawful Hellknights to outwit and escape, forbidden ruins and haunted estates to explore and loot...
I, for one, can't wait!
My companions on this big adventure will be as follows:
-The aforementioned Rashi Tomag, wise half-elven Cleric of Sarenrae. My friend says Rashi looks sort of like Jimmy Fallon. Only a half-elf. Clerics are often pigeon-holed as dedicated healers - their healing magic is the best of any one class - but our Cleric is more interested in battle, from what I can tell, and he has the stuff to be very good at that, too. One of the great things about our unusually large band is that enough of us are able to do the various obligatory tasks that nobody has to get forced to focus on any one thing that he or she really doesn't enjoy.
-Shiny Paladin Rava Thresh, who also belongs to the order of Sarenrae. Paladins are cool, but this one won't let us get away with anything. Like my character, he has quite high charisma, since Paladins use charisma to inspire others to greatness. (Though charisma doesn't seem to help this Paladin act particularly kind or friendly.) Our Paladin-guy keeps comparing his charisma-based skills to mine, trying to prove that he's the best choice to be the absolute Leader of our group. I don't *want* to be the Leader of the group. I don't think my young, impetuous character is ready to lead anything. I just pointed out that since the Paladin won't lie and doesn't actually approach people with a friendly disposition, maybe the several members of the party with high charisma should get to divide the responsibilities of diplomacy and negotiation between them. Like, if we have to talk to the Authorities, sure, send the Paladin, but if we have any dealings with the underworld, maybe we should pick someone more... slippery? And if somebody needs to be intimidated, well, Alimordae may be a nice girl, but she's also nearly seven feet tall with tusks, creepy magic powers, and enormously high intimidation bonuses. WOULD IT BE SUCH A BIG DEAL IF SHE TURNED OUT TO BE THE GROUP'S TOPMOST INTIMIDATOR? IT'S NOT THAT IMPORTANT OF A JOB, PALADIN. When I dutifully recited my stats to the Paladin, he was all, 'Yeah, you actually *might* be better at intimidation than me - for now.' *rolls eyes* Intimidation isn't even a class skill for Paladins. I might just go and max out my ranks in intimidation now, just to annoy him. Geez...
-Elf Wizard Zae. Zae was the wizard on our previous campaign, as well. She's played by the GM's wife, and I like the way she's kind of a nerdy character, more into research than combat. For one, it gives her some nice personality, and I'm not sure what else I know about Zae's personality at this point. For two, it opens up some fun Prestige Class options for her, down the line. For three, it becomes less likely that my character will step on her toes. I didn't want to play a sorceress so as to usurp the role of arcane spellcaster; I wanted to play a character who happened to be a bloodline sorceress. Having a wizard in the group is kind of a relief for me, actually, because it means I don't have to take all the day-to-day utility spells and can be free to specialize/ acquire the few utility spells that we might need to cast frequently or at a moment's notice. The wizard can do some of those things for the group, and it's not the sacrifice for her that it would be for me, because she can learn sooo many more spells than I can. (The only catch: she has to decide at the beginning of each day which spells she's going to cast that day. But the next day she can change her mind. I can't).
- Wino-cleric Ole Olafsen has become Tiefling Bard Zaditor Zaditorium. The name Zaditor comes from my friend's prescription eye drops, LOL. Ole tried to will his glowy dagger to his distant 'friend' Zaditor, along with all his other cool loot from the previous campaign. He said he would get the Paladin to notarize the will. (But the GM said no). Tieflings have infernal ancestry - sort of 'Half-Devil,' though it need not be anything like half - and they are rather more common in Westcrown than in other regions, on account of the city's dark influences. Zaditor in particular has grey skin, horns, a tail, and shaggy red hair. A Bard, meanwhile, is a charisma-based arcane spellcaster similar to a sorceress, but his spell list is shorter and consists mostly of spells that charm, frighten, dominate, inspire, delude, and otherwise influence other characters. In exchange for these limitations, the Bard also gets the capacity to make exciting Bardic Performances, which can give his allies strength, weaken his enemies, or produce other intriguing effects in the midst of combat. Not to mention being frigging entertaining. Alimordae and Zaditor have only just met, but my friend and I have already agreed that we're going to be an unstoppable spellcasting team. Zaditor is an ingenious guy in his own right, but he can also help me play out some of my exciting ideas, when I don't have room to possess all the necessary spells myself.
- Carlos the Dwarf, stoner druid, is new. My friend wanted to join the group for the specific purpose of playing Carlos the Dwarf, because she's a huge fan of Freaks and Geeks. (Carlos was James Franco's RPG character from the episode where he gets roped into gaming with Lindsay's geeky little brother). Carlos looks like a beach bum and has an exciting black leopard named Steve as an animal companion. Welcome, Carlos!
- Our Manly Rogue Assassin is also new. We were having a conversation in the graduate lounge a few weeks ago about how I struggle with playing a character (Ninpen Bittmotten, Gnomish Rogue and Roguish Gnome, that is) whose main function is to stab strangers in the back. Meanwhile, I had simultaneously been trying to seduce this other friend of ours into the group, ever since he made the mistake of saying aloud, 'I'll probably end up coming one night, just to watch, and end up joining in.' That indicated he could be swayed! So we're talking about how I might not be maximally well-suited to roguery, and I whip around to this friend and I'm all, like, 'how do YOU feel about stabbing people in the back, hey?' And he says he's cool with it, and I'm so happy to have found a likely replacement rogue that I blurt out, 'OH THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE!' Because he's a really droll guy, and he'd be *such* a fun rogue, see? But I'm supposed to be making it *more* likely that he'll join the group, LOL, and I just told him he'd make an adorable wee killer. 'I didn't say that!' I amended right away. 'I didn't just say that!' But he was okay with it. 'You meant how manly it would be,' he revised, with total equanimity. Yes. Yes, that is what I meant. Heh. Yes. My friend named his Manly Rogue Assassin 'Alastair MacIntyre'. That may not be funny to non-philosophers; Alastair MacIntyre is a leading ethicist and historian of philosophy at Notre Dame.
- We're also currently running around with an NPC (non-player character) thirteen year old boy named Mossimo or Morrisino or Maraschino or something. We got into trouble and he was there with us, and he seems to be an agent of some kind of secret resistance organization or something. We shall see. We're keeping an eye on him.
I am still working on defining my character in accordance with her statistics. She has to have very high charisma, because it's the governing modifier for a Sorcerer's spellcasting, but it's an unconventional feature for a half-orc to have. I don't think it's out of line, however. (A lot of people I've since found online do. Turns out some old-hands at fantasy RPGs think that no half-orc should be allowed to have high intelligence *or* high charisma. The idea seems to be that if half-orcs can be good or bad at just anything, same as humans, they lose their unique identity as a species. Half-species. Whatever. But I think that's silly. Even if most half-orcs are stronger and hardier than they are smart and likable, it doesn't take away from their group identity for there to be exceptions. And I happen to think it's more fun if a variety of exceptions is actually the rule). Charisma is typically a measure of good looks, influence, and appeal within the game. Alimordae may not be beautiful exactly, but I think she's very striking in appearance. She's probably much more attractive than she realizes. She's also a kind, basically friendly person - maybe even a little Disney Princess chirpy, but she'll grow out of that. With a decently high dexterity, one imagines her as very poised and graceful, and with a more-than-decently high intelligence I think she could one day be quite the leader. (Just not any time soon). She may be a simple country girl at heart, but she commands a great deal of attention. Most of all, seeing as intimidation is charisma-based, it's got to be the case that one need not immediately attract positive attention in order to be considered charismatic. And if I have to resort to unearthly beauty to explain her charisma as it continues to grow, well, I like the idea that a grey-skinned, profoundly freckled woman with tusks could also be a creature of unparalleled beauty. (It's just not important to me yet to specify that she's beautiful). So that's her charisma. I like the idea that Alimordae is not a dramatic, attention-getting person by nature, but that she has an evolving sense of her own capacity to use drama to her - and her allies' - advantage. So far, the hardest part of this aspect of her person for me to get a grip on is the way she is reserved but not shy. I'm both, so it's tricky for me to separate the two. Alimordae happily keeps to herself, but she's supposed to find conversation and making friends much easier than I do.
Decently high intelligence, constitution, and dexterity aren't that hard to act out. I could have let her be much stupider, but after playing the class with the most skill-ranks in all the game, I couldn't bear to have no more than three skill ranks per level. (High intelligence gives you more). Plus, if my character were stupider than me, I would have to keep my many Brilliant Plans to myself when I come up with them! And that would be beyooond beeeaaaring!
Low strength is also easy to understand, and mediocre wisdom relatively so. (Honestly, I'm not sure *I* have more than mediocre wisdom). Youth and a lack of common sense - especially a tendency to make impulsive, haphazard decisions (Alimordae expended one of her only four first-level spells per day to mage armor the NPC kid at the first sign of trouble, because she was worried about him getting hurt; she didn't even bother to armor herself) - are hardly unknown to me. The game dictates that wisdom governs one's proficiency at perception, so I figure she's a little spacey and doesn't notice as many details as others do.
The hardest part remaining, then, is the oddness. I suppose I'm a little odd, myself, but not in quite the incurably weird, otherworldly way I have in mind for my character. I don't want performative oddness to get in the way of the game. But I would like Alimordae to live up to the promise of noticeable peculiarity. So far, I have a handful of inspirational figures - Luna Lovegood, Gonzo, Rosamond from Nate the Great (and Queen Latifah; for elegance and glowing, commanding presence, not so much weirdness.) - plus a List of Things That Odd People Do. Odd people notice things that other people don't, but that probably won't work for me very often, because my GM isn't big on describing stuff, and I can't actually notice details that aren't under my authority to imagine. The dialog of odd people can involve non sequiturs, stating the obvious - especially where ordinary protocol would dictate ignoring some obvious fact and 'playing it cool,' pretending not to notice - and choosing different facts than others do to treat as especially salient. (Though I'll probably limit the latter enough so that my weird habits don't directly damage the group's chances; no being sent to scout and leaving out the part about the enemy encampment in favor of the part about the copulating dragonflies or the baby bear). Since my character is an autodidact where magic is concerned, I figure she'll have her own names for many of the spells she casts. She just describes them the best way she knows how. So far, one of the few spells she knows is called 'grease.' It makes things slippery, see? She likes to say that she's 'buttering' something. Like, 'I butter the floor where they're standing and make them fall over' type thing. I'm totally fielding any suggestions that friends might have for performing my character's oddity without making her an inconvenience or a spot-light hogger.
Egads, how I've gone on and on. This was supposed to be the post where I talked about our adventures last night, but there turned out to be so much preliminary flimflam! I guess I'll have to make another post, eh? (Which is not to say that anybody has to *read* it). I think I will start putting all debriefings from this campaign under a cut, for the record, because it is a major published Adventure Path, and I would hate to spoil any friends who might play it as current or future gamers. Ah well, I suspect I am somewhat obsessed right now, but I'm convinced that this is due to the six or seven week hiatus my group had between meetings, while the other guys were working on their finals. I got a few ideas in my head and spent weeks and weeks researching and chewing them over with no chance to see them play out! All theory and no practice makes Jack go all squirrelly!
.
The night before last I had a spooky nightmare. I was home visiting my family, only we were staying in some kind of Vacation House. I had somehow forgotten it was Christmas morning, so I was running around half-dressed and badly groomed, leaving messes all over the place, with all my relatives showing up to stare at me. I ran to hide from my relatives in the garage off to the side of the bungalow, but when I got there I found all my friends from role playing waiting for me. They lectured me severely about leaving the door unlocked at night. 'If you must go outside at all,' they said, with many wags of their respective fingers, 'you have to remember to shut the door and set the zombie trap!' They were all very stern with me - me *specifically*! - as if I am the sort of person who forgets to shut the door. Pbbt!
The zombie trap turned out to be a piece of plywood that you would lean up against the door from the inside. Tricky. 'Shouldn't we trap all the windows, too?' I asked. My role playing friends looked at me like I was being unforgivably obtuse. Zombies can't get through glass, they said. Everybody knows that. Haven't you read the core rulebook?
Then we went out for an early dinner. We were having fun and heading back to the car; the sky was just beginning to go all twilighty. Then came the subtlest shift toward darkness, and SUDDENLY THE STREETS WERE OVERFLOWING WITH ZOMBIES! It looked just like that musical number from Singing in the Rain when all the flappers run in out of nowhere, only... zombies.
So we all piled haphazardly into a beat-up van - quite possibly a Volkswagen Minibus - and slammed the door behind us. The only way to get through the press of zombies was to mow them down with the van, but with zombies everywhere as far as the eye could see, I knew that in order to exit the van and get back inside our house, we would have to defeat enough of them to weave a safe path to the back door that we had so cleverly zombie trapped.
I found my role playing binder in the back seat. I felt certain that I should know some kind of a spell we could all use to get past the zombies. I thought it might be a spell with some kind of a force tunnel that we could crawl through to safety, and then the force tunnel would collapse and roll over the zombies and crush them once we were done using it. (Uh, there is no Force Tunnel Zombie Crushing spell, just in case you were wondering. Especially not at first level). But I couldn't think of the name of this spell in my dream, and if I couldn't think of its name, I couldn't announce that I was going to cast it on my turn! I was fumbling with my role playing binder to find the name and the stats of the spell, but my hands were shaking *sooo* badly I couldn't even turn the pages. I gave up, put down the binder and picked up my laptop instead. Only my hands were still shaking, and I kept typing the wrong words into the google search window. I would think the words I wanted, type some other words instead, select them, delete them, then type a whole new set of wrong words. I just COULD NOT find that flippin' spell, and all the time I was searching for it we were just driving around and around the block, running over zombies in our van. MORTAL TERRORZ!
This dream, I am sure, occurred in anticipation of last night's role playing session, our first with (mostly) new characters and a new scenario! We wrapped up the previous module last week. I was hoping the quack doctor would take all the items we found, combine them into some kind of magic gundam suit and attack us, so that we'd have the satisfaction of proving the sheriff was an idiot to take the silly doctor's side and also an excuse to kill the fraud. The sheriff along with him, if possible. (Heh. Turns out I'm a bloodthirsty little gnome, if you yell at me and send me off on a wild goose chase). But we brought the stuff, the doctor made his stupid little magic shroud, the Sheriff turned us loose and we got back the shiny dagger that started it all. Not even a modicum of bloodbathery! In fact, the most fun part of my first-ever module's conclusion was when we had to go back and attempt the minor task at which our rival adventuring party had failed. It wasn't meant to be the last task left, but as previously discussed, we apparently did the module all out of predicted order. We had to coax a magical web-footed water-dwelling girl to give us the vial of pure water that was the source of her secret spring. 'A womanatee!' the wino-cleric shouted. The other (sober) cleric was carefully wading into the water, making perception checks and using spells to detect magic. He was preparing for a serious negotiation. 'I'm going to charm person!' the wino-cleric announced. Everybody tried to convince him not to do it (well, not me, because I didn't remember enough about 'charm person' to care), because if he failed, the womanatee would know he had tried to manipulate her with magic and that would make her less inclined to cooperation of the ordinary, willing variety. 'Too late! I already did it!' said the wino-cleric. But he succeeded. The womanatee became his new best friend. In exchange for her help, we gave her a magical Ring of Swimming that we had found somewhere along the way. I'm not really sure how a Ring of Swimming solves the problem of her magical spring drying up, but it was her idea, and she seemed to think it would work, so I hope she knew what she was talking about. (And/or I hope that we took her vial of pure water back to her afterwards. Ninpen Bittmotten was a selfish little gnome, but I think she'd take the vial back; she'd just grumble about it the whole way).
The intention of this first brief adventure had been to familiarize all the no0bs (like myself) with game mechanics and give everyone a chance to observe the options and think about what sort of characters we really wanted to play. After the experience, I'm still not sure I have a clear favorite class. I kind of want to try them all eventually. I know initially it seemed to me that there were far too few options in the game, perhaps because I had been taught that all the classes a player could possibly choose fell under four total categories: fighter, cleric, wizard, thief. (This is the reason we had two clerics. Because when the fifth guy in the group showed up after our first session, he was told 'we already have one of everything, so you can pick whichever one of the four kinds you want.') I mean, an entire fantasy world, with only *four* types of heroes?!! WHUT. I was like, 'This game has been around for decades, and I could invent you another half a dozen classes tonight, man. And I just got here.'
Now that I have my own copy of the rule book, though, I can see that while there is some truth to this mode of categorization - divine casters are mechanically different from arcane casters; rogues get special combat and skill privileges that melee classes don't get, etc. - each class does have something quite unique and cool about it, even the various kinds of fighter. (There are also Prestige Classes, if you are getting bored with the standard choices and need something to keep you interested. These are specialized roles that you have to earn - grow into - by starting out as a core class, acquiring a certain number of prerequisites, and transitioning into the new role as you level up. Prestige classes have profiles like world explorer or magic scholar or master-archer-who-puts-spells-into-his-arrows-and-shoots-them-at-people). But, anyway, yeah. I knew from the beginning that I would eventually be presented with the opportunity to change characters and pick a new role, and I've been working to familiarize myself with the options.
I enjoyed my roguish gnome character, Ninpen Bittmotten, especially at times when I could take advantage of my small stature - letting the bigger types throw me upstairs and whatnot. (Ninpen was probably poorly conceived, from both storytelling and utility standpoints, but she was still amusing, and I drew her a lot of outfits). I swore from the beginning that I never wanted to play a character too big for a Riding Dog. I also had zero initial interest in being a wizard-type caster. Wizards get a lot of power (blah, blah, powerful blah), but they also get big responsibility, a lot of work, and a lot of conditions - like eight hours of sleep every night or you can't cast spells the next day. Teeedious, methought. So I was taken totally by surprise when my next character sort of leapt out of the book at me, fully formed, and was everything I was convinced from the beginning that I'd never bother with.
She's a half-orc aberrant sorceress. Half-orc means you're nearly seven feet tall (no Riding Dog! unless you could strap one to each foot?) with grey or green skin, a prominent forehead and tusks. Not much of anybody likes the look of you, and your orc parent and human parent probably didn't... get along. Sorceress means exactly like a boring wizard, except you cast spells spontaneously (less preparation, yay), and don't get to know very many spells at one time (less versatility, boo; choosing your handful of spells known is sort of like having the wizard's daily responsibility - choosing spells memorized - magnified exponentially but only when you're planning ahead or picking a new spell). Aberrant is the name of the bloodline from which my character gets her spontaneous magic powers. Some sorcerers are part dragon or blessed by the gods. My character is part aberration. Meaning: she has some sort of mutant or alien blood in her ancestry and can shoot acid out of her hands, heehee. At third level, she develops the ability to stretch her arms twice as far as normal, so as to make touch attacks against characters standing ten feet away! And the capacity for arm stretching will only grow, given time! CREEEEPY!!!
It was just so compelling and weird, friends. And when I found out - because it felt more like 'finding out' than 'making up' - that this character was also a foundling raised by hobbits, it sort of sealed the deal. I mean, poor Alimordae with her head-to-toe grey freckles and her tusks, growing up faster than all her (much longer-lived) siblings and getting bigger and bigger all the time. Barely fitting into hobbit holes and forever breaking the furniture!
I've been working on making my character the synthesis of an incurably - though not at all willfully - odd personality and an entirely conventional, rather sheltered, rural upbringing. Alimordae thought that she knew what it was like to be stigmatized and to feel like an outsider in her little town of Birk Delving, and she rather naively assumed she'd fit in better - and understand herself better - if she could just get out into the world and find a place where the chairs were her size. Maybe meet some other half-orcs. (In the two years or so since she left home to Seek Her Fortune, Alimordae has met some half-orcs, but they make her more uncomfortable than any other kind of person. Society steers most half-orcs toward rather brutish roles in life, and few of them have the benefit of Alimordae's good home and decent education. Having narrowly avoided matriculation in the half-orc school of hard knocks, Alimordae probably seems giddy and frivolous to most of her distant kin, and they tend to seem coarse and violent to her).
Because it's the orc side of half-orc which is so widely regarded as ugly and bestial and which inspires hatred and suspicion, Alimordae learned to blame her orc side for all of her problems and peculiarities. If she lost her temper, people would say it was her orc side coming out. If nobody wanted to ask her to dance, it was on account of the orc side. If she, you know, shot acid out of her hands by accident one day: orc side. Probably some kind of half-orcish side effect, right? (Even now, I don't think she knows enough about herself to know what an aberrant sorceress is. She just knows she can produce some weirdish spontaneous magic effects; she doesn't have a good explanation for them). She spent her childhood weaving herself a story about the beautiful, kindly human mother who was victimized by orcs (the core rulebook points out that orc chieftains will kidnap human women in an effort to produce offspring with the improved human capacity to be battle strategists) and probably died getting her child to safety. Alimordae purposed, with firm resolve and ample naivete, to go out into the world, become a powerful spellcaster, and act as an inexorable force of freedom, finding all the mothers and children held captive by orcs (wading into battle surrounded by leaping flames, tossing orcs to and fro with her finely honed telekinesis...) and liberating them.
This dream became so potent that she nearly made a *very* stupid mistake. Still quite young, with next to no magical abilities (no flames, no weapons, no finely honed telekinesis), Alimordae came to a town where she overheard a local legend - a story that probably only came up that day on account of her arrival. It was about a local personality: an overconfident, showy mage who called himself Odd Lodrick. Odd Lodrick, the legend went, was kidnapped by orcs - probably to make them some half-orc babies (which was funny, the drunken fellows in the tavern seemed to think, because that's the sort of thing that should only happen to women) - and never heard from again. Alimordae didn't think, she reacted. She didn't care that she wasn't ready and that she knew next to nothing about the man in the story or the orcs who captured him. This was exactly what she'd been waiting for her whole life. She went directly to the one small shop in town to sell all the valuables she had left and buy herself a used wand or a handful of smoke pellets or something. She was going to track down those orcs and liberate their surviving captives, including any half-orc children like herself.
She probably wasn't too subtle about her intentions. Fortunately for my poor daft character, the shopkeeper was a kindly woman of middle years named Gemmen who perceived what Alimordae had in mind and took her quietly aside. The story is true, Gemmen told her, but it happened many years ago, and Odd Lodrick didn't disappear forever. He was captured by orcs, but he came back just once, more than a year later, carrying with him a half-orc infant. His child. Bezel Lodrick had been a flamboyant fellow who was never shy about the fact that his bloodline granted him bizarre, fantastical powers. He kept little about himself, his family or his exploits a secret. He was a good man, but an arrogant one. If orcs will kidnap to augment their clans with human intelligence, one supposes they may also kidnap to acquire singular, hereditary arcane powers? The orcs kept Odd Lodrick bewitched, distracted and exhausted, so that he hardly knew where he was and couldn't cast spells. One day, however, he marshaled all his willpower and managed an escape. He cast a spell that allows short dimensional teleportations - the kind of thing you could use to go from room to room. (It's called 'dimension door,' for the record, and I plan to use it too, when it becomes available to me). He took the child of his captivity along with him, determined to take her someplace far away, safe and obscure. He could only stop in his hometown long enough to eat a hot meal, replenish his supplies and say goodbye.
Gemmen's story threw Alimordae for more than one loop. She was a smart girl, even if she was also quite foolhardy at times. She did the math. She picked up on the bit about the weird arcane powers and also on the careful, fond way Gemmen spoke of the missing mage. If Odd Lodrick only came back to town for an hour or so and nobody else seemed to know about it...? Alimordae realized that Odd Lodrick and Gemmen probably had some sort of understanding before she and her orc kin came along and messed everything up for them. She felt strongly drawn to Gemmen, but also curious, ashamed and overwhelmed. He childhood fantasy of a beautiful, kindly mother was probably untrue. Her mother was most likely an orc. Alimordae didn't even know how to imagine her mother anymore. Her father might be alive, but no one had seen him in eighteen years, and if he knew what was good for him, he was probably living in hiding under a different name. Alimordae knew she might never find him - and she certainly wouldn't, she realized, if she continued to indulge a family tendency to idiotic exploits and open displays of magic. Given the approximate age of the infant in Gemmen's story, it was even conceivable (badump-bum) that Alimordae might have a full brother or sister somewhere out there. (To this day, she makes a point not to think about that uncomfortable possibility, for all her half-orc-liberation idealism). Certainly there might be any number of half brothers and sisters - human, orc, or even half-blood kin of some other sort.
It was Gemmen who told my character that the infant's name, according to Odd Lodrick, was Alimordae. (He named her for his grandmother, who was the child of the aberrant union from which both father and daughter derive their bloodline powers - though she doesn't know any of that yet. If he could, Odd Lodrick would probably tell his daughter that she comes from a long line of very strange women, and they turned out just fine). My character claimed the name for herself after she fled town in embarrassment and confusion. It may have been a bit of a leap, based on a huge coincidence, but Gemmen's story fit with everything she knew about herself, however little that might be. Alimordae figured that by adopting the half-orc infant's name - probably her own - she could a) avoid endangering her adoptive family by being traced back to the halfling village of her childhood, b) signal to Bezel Lodrick, were he still living, where to find her, and c) sound a little more badass than she would if she went by her hobbit name. People are less apt to take an avenging sorceress seriously if she goes by the name 'Rhododendron.'
Alimordae also realized that her lack of common sense (low wisdom modifier, LOL) was apt to get her into trouble. Just knowing you lack common sense isn't quite enough to give you common sense, but in Alimordae's case it was enough to persuade her to ally herself with an older, wiser friend and confidante. Rashi Tomag is a half-elf cleric of Sarenrae, the goddess of fire and redemption. Alimordae met him on her travels, and they bonded over their shared hatred of injustice and oppression. (Though I daresay Rashi's righteous anger is more sophisticated and better-considered). Rashi is played by the same guy in the group who used to play Terli Ampo (he got the syllables from staring at his wife's waterlily shampoo), another half-elf cleric of Sarenrae, goddess of fire and wisdom. Some of the people in my group wanted to play all-new characters. Others were interested in playing out the roles they'd begun in the first campaign. In order to keep everyone at the same level of development, we all agreed that we'd either create new characters from scratch or rebuild the old character concepts with new stats. Terli Ampo, bless his heart, was a lot like Rashi Tomag, but he had extremely low charisma, so he didn't like much of anybody and (it was supposed to be the case that) nobody much liked him. (Actually, we liked him anyway, even if he was a grumpy bugger). 'Nobody but nobody makes friends with Terli Ampo!' was the refrain.
Ninpen Bittmotten called him Surly Ampo. Affectionately, of course. Anyway, Rashi Tomag has all of Terli Ampo's good qualities but his charisma isn't as socially crippling, LOL.
Now Rashi and Alimordae have both found their way to and settled in Westcrown, a bustling metropolis that derives its prosperity from a pact with an infernal deity - and also the site of our next big adventure! The GM says this one is going to be epic in scope, an adventure path that will take our characters all the way from level 1 to level 20, with a bunch of little mini-arcs along the way. There's a harsh, cursed regime to resist, lawful Hellknights to outwit and escape, forbidden ruins and haunted estates to explore and loot...
I, for one, can't wait!
My companions on this big adventure will be as follows:
-The aforementioned Rashi Tomag, wise half-elven Cleric of Sarenrae. My friend says Rashi looks sort of like Jimmy Fallon. Only a half-elf. Clerics are often pigeon-holed as dedicated healers - their healing magic is the best of any one class - but our Cleric is more interested in battle, from what I can tell, and he has the stuff to be very good at that, too. One of the great things about our unusually large band is that enough of us are able to do the various obligatory tasks that nobody has to get forced to focus on any one thing that he or she really doesn't enjoy.
-Shiny Paladin Rava Thresh, who also belongs to the order of Sarenrae. Paladins are cool, but this one won't let us get away with anything. Like my character, he has quite high charisma, since Paladins use charisma to inspire others to greatness. (Though charisma doesn't seem to help this Paladin act particularly kind or friendly.) Our Paladin-guy keeps comparing his charisma-based skills to mine, trying to prove that he's the best choice to be the absolute Leader of our group. I don't *want* to be the Leader of the group. I don't think my young, impetuous character is ready to lead anything. I just pointed out that since the Paladin won't lie and doesn't actually approach people with a friendly disposition, maybe the several members of the party with high charisma should get to divide the responsibilities of diplomacy and negotiation between them. Like, if we have to talk to the Authorities, sure, send the Paladin, but if we have any dealings with the underworld, maybe we should pick someone more... slippery? And if somebody needs to be intimidated, well, Alimordae may be a nice girl, but she's also nearly seven feet tall with tusks, creepy magic powers, and enormously high intimidation bonuses. WOULD IT BE SUCH A BIG DEAL IF SHE TURNED OUT TO BE THE GROUP'S TOPMOST INTIMIDATOR? IT'S NOT THAT IMPORTANT OF A JOB, PALADIN. When I dutifully recited my stats to the Paladin, he was all, 'Yeah, you actually *might* be better at intimidation than me - for now.' *rolls eyes* Intimidation isn't even a class skill for Paladins. I might just go and max out my ranks in intimidation now, just to annoy him. Geez...
-Elf Wizard Zae. Zae was the wizard on our previous campaign, as well. She's played by the GM's wife, and I like the way she's kind of a nerdy character, more into research than combat. For one, it gives her some nice personality, and I'm not sure what else I know about Zae's personality at this point. For two, it opens up some fun Prestige Class options for her, down the line. For three, it becomes less likely that my character will step on her toes. I didn't want to play a sorceress so as to usurp the role of arcane spellcaster; I wanted to play a character who happened to be a bloodline sorceress. Having a wizard in the group is kind of a relief for me, actually, because it means I don't have to take all the day-to-day utility spells and can be free to specialize/ acquire the few utility spells that we might need to cast frequently or at a moment's notice. The wizard can do some of those things for the group, and it's not the sacrifice for her that it would be for me, because she can learn sooo many more spells than I can. (The only catch: she has to decide at the beginning of each day which spells she's going to cast that day. But the next day she can change her mind. I can't).
- Wino-cleric Ole Olafsen has become Tiefling Bard Zaditor Zaditorium. The name Zaditor comes from my friend's prescription eye drops, LOL. Ole tried to will his glowy dagger to his distant 'friend' Zaditor, along with all his other cool loot from the previous campaign. He said he would get the Paladin to notarize the will. (But the GM said no). Tieflings have infernal ancestry - sort of 'Half-Devil,' though it need not be anything like half - and they are rather more common in Westcrown than in other regions, on account of the city's dark influences. Zaditor in particular has grey skin, horns, a tail, and shaggy red hair. A Bard, meanwhile, is a charisma-based arcane spellcaster similar to a sorceress, but his spell list is shorter and consists mostly of spells that charm, frighten, dominate, inspire, delude, and otherwise influence other characters. In exchange for these limitations, the Bard also gets the capacity to make exciting Bardic Performances, which can give his allies strength, weaken his enemies, or produce other intriguing effects in the midst of combat. Not to mention being frigging entertaining. Alimordae and Zaditor have only just met, but my friend and I have already agreed that we're going to be an unstoppable spellcasting team. Zaditor is an ingenious guy in his own right, but he can also help me play out some of my exciting ideas, when I don't have room to possess all the necessary spells myself.
- Carlos the Dwarf, stoner druid, is new. My friend wanted to join the group for the specific purpose of playing Carlos the Dwarf, because she's a huge fan of Freaks and Geeks. (Carlos was James Franco's RPG character from the episode where he gets roped into gaming with Lindsay's geeky little brother). Carlos looks like a beach bum and has an exciting black leopard named Steve as an animal companion. Welcome, Carlos!
- Our Manly Rogue Assassin is also new. We were having a conversation in the graduate lounge a few weeks ago about how I struggle with playing a character (Ninpen Bittmotten, Gnomish Rogue and Roguish Gnome, that is) whose main function is to stab strangers in the back. Meanwhile, I had simultaneously been trying to seduce this other friend of ours into the group, ever since he made the mistake of saying aloud, 'I'll probably end up coming one night, just to watch, and end up joining in.' That indicated he could be swayed! So we're talking about how I might not be maximally well-suited to roguery, and I whip around to this friend and I'm all, like, 'how do YOU feel about stabbing people in the back, hey?' And he says he's cool with it, and I'm so happy to have found a likely replacement rogue that I blurt out, 'OH THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE!' Because he's a really droll guy, and he'd be *such* a fun rogue, see? But I'm supposed to be making it *more* likely that he'll join the group, LOL, and I just told him he'd make an adorable wee killer. 'I didn't say that!' I amended right away. 'I didn't just say that!' But he was okay with it. 'You meant how manly it would be,' he revised, with total equanimity. Yes. Yes, that is what I meant. Heh. Yes. My friend named his Manly Rogue Assassin 'Alastair MacIntyre'. That may not be funny to non-philosophers; Alastair MacIntyre is a leading ethicist and historian of philosophy at Notre Dame.
- We're also currently running around with an NPC (non-player character) thirteen year old boy named Mossimo or Morrisino or Maraschino or something. We got into trouble and he was there with us, and he seems to be an agent of some kind of secret resistance organization or something. We shall see. We're keeping an eye on him.
I am still working on defining my character in accordance with her statistics. She has to have very high charisma, because it's the governing modifier for a Sorcerer's spellcasting, but it's an unconventional feature for a half-orc to have. I don't think it's out of line, however. (A lot of people I've since found online do. Turns out some old-hands at fantasy RPGs think that no half-orc should be allowed to have high intelligence *or* high charisma. The idea seems to be that if half-orcs can be good or bad at just anything, same as humans, they lose their unique identity as a species. Half-species. Whatever. But I think that's silly. Even if most half-orcs are stronger and hardier than they are smart and likable, it doesn't take away from their group identity for there to be exceptions. And I happen to think it's more fun if a variety of exceptions is actually the rule). Charisma is typically a measure of good looks, influence, and appeal within the game. Alimordae may not be beautiful exactly, but I think she's very striking in appearance. She's probably much more attractive than she realizes. She's also a kind, basically friendly person - maybe even a little Disney Princess chirpy, but she'll grow out of that. With a decently high dexterity, one imagines her as very poised and graceful, and with a more-than-decently high intelligence I think she could one day be quite the leader. (Just not any time soon). She may be a simple country girl at heart, but she commands a great deal of attention. Most of all, seeing as intimidation is charisma-based, it's got to be the case that one need not immediately attract positive attention in order to be considered charismatic. And if I have to resort to unearthly beauty to explain her charisma as it continues to grow, well, I like the idea that a grey-skinned, profoundly freckled woman with tusks could also be a creature of unparalleled beauty. (It's just not important to me yet to specify that she's beautiful). So that's her charisma. I like the idea that Alimordae is not a dramatic, attention-getting person by nature, but that she has an evolving sense of her own capacity to use drama to her - and her allies' - advantage. So far, the hardest part of this aspect of her person for me to get a grip on is the way she is reserved but not shy. I'm both, so it's tricky for me to separate the two. Alimordae happily keeps to herself, but she's supposed to find conversation and making friends much easier than I do.
Decently high intelligence, constitution, and dexterity aren't that hard to act out. I could have let her be much stupider, but after playing the class with the most skill-ranks in all the game, I couldn't bear to have no more than three skill ranks per level. (High intelligence gives you more). Plus, if my character were stupider than me, I would have to keep my many Brilliant Plans to myself when I come up with them! And that would be beyooond beeeaaaring!
Low strength is also easy to understand, and mediocre wisdom relatively so. (Honestly, I'm not sure *I* have more than mediocre wisdom). Youth and a lack of common sense - especially a tendency to make impulsive, haphazard decisions (Alimordae expended one of her only four first-level spells per day to mage armor the NPC kid at the first sign of trouble, because she was worried about him getting hurt; she didn't even bother to armor herself) - are hardly unknown to me. The game dictates that wisdom governs one's proficiency at perception, so I figure she's a little spacey and doesn't notice as many details as others do.
The hardest part remaining, then, is the oddness. I suppose I'm a little odd, myself, but not in quite the incurably weird, otherworldly way I have in mind for my character. I don't want performative oddness to get in the way of the game. But I would like Alimordae to live up to the promise of noticeable peculiarity. So far, I have a handful of inspirational figures - Luna Lovegood, Gonzo, Rosamond from Nate the Great (and Queen Latifah; for elegance and glowing, commanding presence, not so much weirdness.) - plus a List of Things That Odd People Do. Odd people notice things that other people don't, but that probably won't work for me very often, because my GM isn't big on describing stuff, and I can't actually notice details that aren't under my authority to imagine. The dialog of odd people can involve non sequiturs, stating the obvious - especially where ordinary protocol would dictate ignoring some obvious fact and 'playing it cool,' pretending not to notice - and choosing different facts than others do to treat as especially salient. (Though I'll probably limit the latter enough so that my weird habits don't directly damage the group's chances; no being sent to scout and leaving out the part about the enemy encampment in favor of the part about the copulating dragonflies or the baby bear). Since my character is an autodidact where magic is concerned, I figure she'll have her own names for many of the spells she casts. She just describes them the best way she knows how. So far, one of the few spells she knows is called 'grease.' It makes things slippery, see? She likes to say that she's 'buttering' something. Like, 'I butter the floor where they're standing and make them fall over' type thing. I'm totally fielding any suggestions that friends might have for performing my character's oddity without making her an inconvenience or a spot-light hogger.
Egads, how I've gone on and on. This was supposed to be the post where I talked about our adventures last night, but there turned out to be so much preliminary flimflam! I guess I'll have to make another post, eh? (Which is not to say that anybody has to *read* it). I think I will start putting all debriefings from this campaign under a cut, for the record, because it is a major published Adventure Path, and I would hate to spoil any friends who might play it as current or future gamers. Ah well, I suspect I am somewhat obsessed right now, but I'm convinced that this is due to the six or seven week hiatus my group had between meetings, while the other guys were working on their finals. I got a few ideas in my head and spent weeks and weeks researching and chewing them over with no chance to see them play out! All theory and no practice makes Jack go all squirrelly!
.