DM Entry: Elves and Secret Doors

I have never liked the idea of the DM alerting the player of an elf character to make a Search check because he just passed a secret door. Why not just say, Hey you just passed a secret door. So in an effort to remove this "tipping of the hand" I have always played the 3.5 elf ability without this ability. Lately however, I have tried to compensate for this loss of a racial ability by giving a +10 bonus on Search checks versus secret or concealed doors. But I think I have found a new more satisfying solution.

So this ability (listed below) will officially replace the racial secret door ability of elves in my games.

REMOVE: PHB Elf Racial Ability: An elf who merely passes within 5 feet of a secret or concealed door is entitled to a Search check to notice it as if she were actively looking for it.

REPLACEMENT: An elf who searches a single 5 foot by 5 foot space as a full-round action gains a +5 bonus vs secret or concealed doors, and this single check will reveal any secret door within 15 feet of the elf that search result beats. (Normally for non-elves, searching is a full-round action for a single 5 ft square).

Site Update and Campaign Comments

Site Update:
There are two new links in the Handy Links sidebar.

Handbook: Ninja (minmaxboards.com)
Handbook: Index of Handbooks (minmaxboards.com)

The index of handbooks is a huge list of handbooks, even more than are listed in our Handy Links section.

Reminder, when you are building your character, be sure to check out any handbooks available for your chosen class to get the most out of your characters.

Disclaimer: Not everything in these various handbooks are completely legal. If you have any questions be sure to ask the DM before the game session. Don't wait to get called out on something in the middle of combat. It sucks for you, and it sucks for the DM to have to do it too. (Not that anyone has done this in a long time, but it does suck when it happens) ;)


Campaign Comments:
I am really enjoying the flavor and story backgrounds for everyone's characters. Every character is becoming less a page full of statistics and more and more coming to life with their own motivations, loves, dislikes, and "character."

I just want to give some notes about my games. As a DM (and when I do play as a player), I am a 100% legal min-maxer. While some people use this term derogatorily, I don't. I think its the best term to describe how I DM, and how I build characters, NPCs, and monsters.

In our current campaign, Shackled City, as we are now transitioning from the entry-level and low-level range to the mid-level range, it becomes more important to maximize your strengths and minimize your weaknesses for your characters. Buy hps with your xps when necessary. Currently (as a rule) I am only giving max hp to major NPCs, but not the run-of-the-mill creatures and commoners.

Now is a good time to review the Combat chapter of the Player's Handbook to refresh about tactical movements during combat.

The reason I am going into all of this is once we go into chapter three, I will completely remove the training wheels, not pulling punches (so to speak). All of you (my players) are seasoned experienced role players and I can see each of you growing in the skill of character building. And I want to take this game into full gear, hard-core, no-holds-barred, shit-happens, do-or-die style of min-max 3.5 D&D gaming. In doing so, I will be giving less advice over the board (from the DM chair), and take it on faith that you know what you're doing when you make decisions for your characters. I think you're all ready for this, and I think it will become a much more exciting game for all of us.

I also want to offer to each of you personal help with building your characters, anytime. Just to get a slight more edge or for a complete overhaul of your character, or anything in between; like feat stacking and feat synergies, class and prestige class stacking, and career building. This help is always available outside of the game, through email or in person or over skype.

Everyone enjoy your weekend off (June 29th) and Happy July 4th holiday.

I hope to see you all at our next game session, July 6th.

Shackled City: The Dead Book: Entry 2

THE DEAD BOOK

Entry 2. Kracken (ECL 3, Dan) It was the beard! The bald under-dwarf with the beard. All fear the beard.
Entry 1. Sirkus (ECL 3, Kenneth) After fearlessly mowing down several enemies in hand to hand combat while defending his party from a brood of hobgoblin archers, a fateful arrow pierced his heart, killing him instantly.

Shackled City: ECL 3, Osiris Eloah, Elf Wizard, (Generalist): Journal Entry 3

After being deputized by the "law" in this city, the group and I have decided to help put a stop to the goblin annoyance. Despite our best efforts, the first night failed to lead me or my companions to any solid clues. The goblin writing found on a few building appeared to be gibberish from what I can ascertain and have no real meaning. I do wonder if these simple minded creatures are being controlled by some greater and evil force. After leaning of a mysterious dwarf that may have a connection with the goblin infestation, and coincidently runs the bathhouse that may have a secret door, it was decided we would pay him a visit and ask. (;^). Not wanting to appear out of place, I decided to take a bath and make myself at home while the rest of party took a look around. After a much need refreshing bath I noticed, by way of the arcane arts, that the Dwarf was drenched in magical auras, most noticeably from the schools of Enchantment. Curious, very curious, I must find out the cause.  After leaving the bathhouse, the party decided to keep one good eye on the Dwarf. Using my trusted familiar, Mortis, I was able to “see” the bath keeper doing what seemed like regular chores while he waited on new clients. Anyone would understand my surprise when we were brutally attacked by a gang of wererats! After giving the thugs a sound beating, were managed to keep one alive that we could question or turn over to the authorities. After the town guard turned up, we carefully explained the situation and it was decided that we needed to “talk” once again to the Dwarf. I have a feeling that will be easier said then done!

Shackled City: Ruce Blackwind; Urban Ranger 3: Entry 6

Ruce stepped out into the late afternoon sun and cringed.

The light…. it burns!… It freezes!…

He threw one arm over his eyes and stood slouched in the back yard, panting. Then whipped his arm down and gagged.

GUH! I stink!… Time for a dunk in the lake. 

Three days and nights at the bottom of stronger and stronger bottles of wine; trying to forget; trying to dull the pains. It had taken its toll. He imagined he might look even worse than he smelled. Just not as bad as he felt. He was sure of that.

It started with him snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. The insane little group he had joined up with a week ago ~ (hells -- it really was exactly one week ago. His life had descended to this in only one week!) ~ had somehow ended up with every missing orphan. At the cost of the lives of two fellow adventurers, and dozens of skulks, creepers, hobgoblins, and other hellish opponents, they had freed the children and were climbing out of this dungeon once and for all.

Then the … the thing!

Ruce shuddered with both rage and horror as he staggered down the alley towards the lake.

They called it a "beholder." It came from nowhere, and took… GODS…. took the boy! Took the…
He slammed into a alley wall and doubled over choking, each breath a kick in the ribs.

Took the boy! And we just LET IT! EAGERLY! Happy little lickspittles ready to throw an innocent child into hell if it meant we could walk free! 

"Far too powerful" they claimed. "Would have slaughtered the party in seconds." "All worked out: the boy was returned after all." Every excuse was another wrenching of his spine; another searing poker down his throat.

I failed. Failed to ssssave Terem, just like I failed to sssssssssssssave…..

"SSSSSS!….."

He hissed, feeling the bile rising. Hells, he wanted another bottle. He wanted ten! Wanted the pain - but more, the memories - but more, THE PAIN to GO AWAY! But tonight he couldn't. Tonight he had to clean back up. Tonight he had to eat something, no matter how unlikely it was it would stay down.

Because Qabbiqah had just visited. Apparently, the whole party had been invited to the town hall tomorrow morning. "By special request of the captain of the town guard." He should probably try to look decent - or at least not 3 days dead - for that.

Ruce growled. Actually, only the elf had been invited. OF COURSE the elf! Smegging WIZARD is OF COURSE the leader of the party. The lord mayor will speak with him and HE can hand down the laurels of praise to "the little people."

"Congratulations adventurers on your heroism," his voice rasped into the sultry air. "Your brave ssssacrifice of the orphan half-orc has earned you a place of honor among… among…"

Ruce fell to his knees and released the last of three days of fermented poison back into the gutter, his sobs continuing long after the convulsions had ended.

---------------------------------

Shackled City: ECL 3, Osiris Eloah, Elf Wizard, (Generalist): Journal Entry 2

With Sirkus “avenged” and the children rescued, thanks to magnificent sacrifice of the “Fire Breather”. The party falls from the frying pan and into the fire. From one almost certain demise, to a battle we truly have no chance in surviving. How do you keep a beholder from brutally killing the entire party and taking the children we risked our lives to save? By giving him anything he wants! And he wants one of the children. This monster is unlike any other I have ever encountered. It gave us its word he would allow the other children to go free. What choice do we have? I feel I may have seen the last of the Crusader and the Ranger; they appear to lack a sense of self preservation and never studied the saying “live to fight another day”. I pray the Ninja and rouge are better read!

Shackled City: ECL 3; Ruce Blackwind; human; Urban Ranger 3: Entry the last?

so I'm thinking....

maybe I should just post THIS now for next week's blog, and save us all time.

Shackled City: ECL 4 Rain Black Talon Ss'ressen Lizardfolk Ninja 2 Fighter 2: Entry 4

Hmmm.  The other rogue is dead.  Not sure how I feel about that.  He was arrogant and foolish.  I think he believed too much in his own ideals and power.  Did he really think he was better than the Ss'ressen?  We didn't always see eye to eye.  But we did work well together.  Our team work was amazing and we could have been an unstoppable force had we been able to get along.  Oh well.  I don't think I'll mourn his loss very much.

Shackled City: ECL 3; Ruce Blackwind; human; Urban Ranger 3: Entry 4

Damned chains! Must have rattled me more than I thought. I forgot the feeling of … AHH Gods I hate that feeling! My hands are still shaking. NOT a good thing when you're trying to use a crossbow. Not good to still be panicked when trying to jump a ten foot pit in leathers.

What choice did I have tho? This is less a team I'm in, and more of a … I don't know. We are a cat-o-nine tails. Too many lashes swinging wildly about. No sooner do we defeat one obstacle or foe in this dungeon, than we scatter looking for more. We finally get a door open, when the lizard sprints down the hallway and straight into a trap. Then the monk ignores his teammate,  jumps over the trap and into a nest of Hobogoblins.

Now the party  is split into 3 groups, pinned under COORDINATED enemy attacks, and half of our strength is left sitting on their hands. I think we finally took care of the bastard hobby at the trap lever. Now we can maybe regroup. And maybe I can get rid of these shakes.  (Could it really be just the chains causing this? OR THESE SMEGGING  SPIKES?….)

Why do I feel like this… I feel…
Something is happening… The pain is wrong….

Something….

Shackled City: ECL 2, Osiris Eloah, Elf Wizard, (Generalist): Journal Entry 1

Not again. Another beloved companion, or as I liked to call him “friend” was taken away from me all too soon, Sirkus.  “After fearlessly mowing down several enemies in hand to hand combat while defending his party from a brood of hobgoblin archers, a fateful arrow pierced his heart, killing him instantly”. His sacrifice will not be forgotten and I swear By the GODS! He will be avenged. If some orphans are saved while I pursue this new quest, then so be it. If not, then I pray they have as quick of a death as Sirkus.

 

Shackled City: ECL 1, Osiris Eloah, Elf Wizard, (Generalist): Bio

My name Is Osiris Eloah, and I was born in the region of Aerenal, a somewhat Kingdom of the elves as I like to call it, to two loving parents my father Amarandlon and mother Emraeal. My family has studied wizardry for thousands of years and I spent the majority of my childhood in arcane libraries. As I grew up I was given every amenity possible and access to the best instructors and teachers to hone my natural gifts in the arcane, and this early education gave me a great breadth of knowledge. Over time I found Aerenal more of an illusion of what once was and simply longed for more. Only a century later others began to take note of my development and unusual natural talents, most notably the elders in the community. It was then I decided, despite the strong objections by my parents, to see what the rest of the world had to offer. I was fortunate, and grateful, to have the opportunity to live a life of comfort and security, and be given every advantage- educated in magic, art, science, and martial disciplines according to one’s interest. But this was an opportunity to create my own path and choose my own destiny not wait, like so many others, to have their lives determined for them by the gods or worse, at the tip of some beggar’s dirty dagger. So with a weary heart, and heavy backpack, I left with my trusted familiar Mortis and began my slow march to what I trust to be true self-discovery and arcane perfection. After all, I am a seeker of knowledge and knowledge is power!

Shackled City: Ruce Blackwind: Bio [3/3]

"DRUDGE! Wine!"

A short pause. Then Ruce appeared at the kitchen doorway carrying a tray with a pitcher and 3 goblets. He set it in front of the 2 elves and then stepped back, waiting.

The orange robed elf gestured to his companion, who was clothed in green, fair skinned and had half of his head shaved smooth of it's long blond hair. "This is Koud'm'rev. He is the newest pupil at Blue Crater Acadamy. Tell him who you are."

"I am Ruce Blackwind." Ruce made a small bow to the new elf.

"Now tell him what you are."

Ruce paused and looked confused. "I - I am clearly human, prefect."

The orange robed elf frowned. "Playing stupid will earn you a fast demonstration of what you are, human!"

"Yes, prefect."

"He's a spell target. Like Clax and Puckernuts down in the baths."

The new elf looked shocked. "Him? … you use him? As a target?"

"When he's not serving food or cleaning up in here, sure! Transmutation, evocation, and necromancy spells. He's most vulnerable to those schools."

"But - but shouldn't he be chained? The others were chained."

"Blackwind here doesn't manage well with chains. Go a bit nutty don't you? Don't like fire either!" The prefect flicked his fingers at Ruce, igniting a trio of tiny illusory flames that danced around the boy's head, then gave a huge laugh as Ruce swatted wildly at them.

"Fire! Now I remember!" the other elf said. "I knew the name Blackwind sounded familiar. The Blackwind inferno 2 years ago. Stinking cloud from that blaze covered almost half the city for days."

"Indeed." The prefect poured himself a cup of wine. "Only 3 survivors: street urchins who had been chained up in the stables. So, low enough to avoid the blast from whatever it was in those wagons that exploded, and insane enough to chew their own thumbs off to get free. And now this one is lucky enough to have a home here, letting us bounce spells off his head. Right, human?"

"All the more reason to keep him locked up so he won't run?" The new elf eyed Ruce critically.

"Nahhhh." The prefect took a long gulp then slammed the goblet down on the table and snapped for Ruce to refill it. "He's got the Fireball Collar on. He's magically forbidden to leave the building, or…. BOOM!… heheheh. Still… nobody takes a magic missile to the chest like this guy! It teaches the neophytes how to cast one, and helps the more experienced pupils blow off steam when they're bored. Heheh… The runt has probably lost count of how many times he's been knocked out by one of those, eh?"

"One hundred twenty four, prefect."

The orange robed elf paused in mid-drink and set his goblet slowly on the table. "What did you say?"

"124 magic missile hits, prefect. Although… only 108 of them knocked me out."

"Liar. You LIE!" The elf stood, scowling furiously.

"Sixty five of those hits were yours, prefect. Seems you are the only one who uses me to 'blow off steam.' Maybe you should try a different way to ~"

"COLORSPRAY!"

A wave of neon lights slammed into the young human, careening him backwards over a chair to lie motionless on the floor.

"Bastard punk! When you wake up, see how you like serving blind for the rest of the morning. How's THAT for  different!"

It was quiet for a moment, then the new elf cleared his throat. "Uh, it's certainly not for me to question things here, You …uh… clearly have a strong control of discipline. But isn't a fireball collar a bit extreme? I mean… what a waste of a high powered item on such a … uh…"

The prefect jerked around to stare at the new pupil, then snorted a laugh. "Pffft. That? It's a damned dog collar! A little suggestion spell when he arrived… a little illusion of an exploding piglet wearing the same collar. Poof. Instant willing slave. He'll NEVER leave." He grabbed the wine pitcher off the table and put his arm around the other elf, walking him out. "Come, I'll show you the library. There are some books of goblin porn in there that are hilarious!"

Silence returned to the dining hall. After a minute or two, Ruce opened his eyes and looked around. Seeing no one, he stood and took the tray of goblets back to the pantry. Then he grabbed a silver serving tray and a butcher knife.  

"Colorspray. Illusion. Should have used that on Pokinoi down in the baths. I don't have a weakness against illusions. And colorspray… prefect..."

He set the tray up on it's side to use as a mirror. "…only knocks you out if you're weak to it."

He held the knife up to his collar.

Shackled City: The Dead Book: DM Entry 1

The Dead Book

Entry 1. Sirkus (ECL 3) After fearlessly mowing down several enemies in hand to hand combat while defending his party from a brood of hobgoblin archers, a fateful arrow pierced his heart, killing him instantly.

Radioactive: GM entry 3

As you walk through the forest you can smell the nuclear radiation. Your body shakes in horror because you know that everyone you know or knew is probably dead walking around as one of these flesh melting, radioactive cannibals. You think about these things and you say to your self "If I die I could turn into one of these horrifying things, then I would be eating my friends and other people. Just like those flesh-eaters." As you talk you hear the faint footsteps behind you. When you turn around you a German Shepherd runs up to you whimpering like he is starving. You reach in you back-pack and pull out some rations and give them to him. He eats them like he has never eaten before. You hear some of those flesh-eaters behind you and the German Shepherd sprints away. You think in your head there still might be survivors out there like that German Shepherd; with this little hope I will be able to go on knowing that there is a chance.

Radioactive: GM entry 2

(The campaign's theme song.) Listen to it, it's good moral for the party.

Shackled City: ECL 3; Ruce Blackwind; human; Urban Ranger 3: Entry 3

The elf is back.

...Shit.
And much more powerful than he has been letting on, too.
When I first saw him, he was mired in his own magic spell - stuck in whatever unnatural fungus he had TRIED to spray on the thugs we encountered. Then he offered to take the miscreants to the city guard (no doubt claiming sole credit for their capture, typical elf that he is).

But now three days later he has wandered back down here to "join" the team again. (I should slap that stupid gnome - I told him NO one but our group should be allowed down again - "for their protection") And he is not nearly so helpless as he lead us to believe. Once he saw open air between himself and a raging ogre, he let loose a spiral of magical fire that burned the life out of the giant without singing a hair on its head.

"Humble little novice" indeed! This elf is dangerous. And I can't figure out his motive. Why is he here? He says he came back to warn of a bounty on the lizard man "and his group." But why warn us first, if he just intends to betray us when we return to the surface? The elf mind is devious. I must watch him carefully for signs of his true allegiance.