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Posts Tagged: barbarians

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I’m running a Pathfinder game with my kids and some friends. 

Malgus the Barbarian Sorcerer and the rest of the gang (two Rangers, a Fighter, and a Cleric) have to go into a mausoleum to seek a book. Currently the gang is in the mausoleum looking at a chest and a sarcophagus. 

Malgus: “I’m going to check the chest for traps.”

Me: “Um… ok. Roll.”

Malgus: ::roll 8:: “So…”

Me: “Cool bro. Chest looks great to you.”

Malgus: “I look at the lock. What’s it look like?”

Me: “It has a key hole, but underneath it there are three pins.”

Malgus: “Ok, I pull one.”

Ian (fighter standing next to him): “That’s a bad idea Noah..”

Malgus (Noah): “No, I checked for traps. There aren’t any.”

Adam (Cleric): “What are you doing over there…?”

Malgus: “I’m pulling the pin.”

Me: “Which one?”

Malgus: “Third one.”

Me: “Ok. Uh….roll 2d4.”

::5::

“Roll a d20. You want under your constitution.”

::17 = fail::

“Ian, you’re next to him, roll a 1d4”

::1::

“Okay, so you both get blasted back and quickly blinded. When the blast clears you have this tingy taste on your tongue and weird iron smell in your nose, but other than that you feel fine.”

Malgus: “Cool.”

“I pull the other two.”

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My friends and I were playing a Dark Heresy game. The group was two Guardsmen, an Arbite, an Adept, an Assassin, and a Psyker posing as a Cleric. In the second session of the game our Feral World Guard decides he wants more money, so he strolls into the nearest bar and proceeds to pick a fight with the local PDF’s (Planetary Defense Force)(essentially police officers).

He wins the fist fight and gets away Scott free with a pocket full of thrones… for now. We go off on a mission and return to the town the next session. I had lost my right leg to a firebomb so everyone’s dragging my sorry ass to the nearest transport to take us back to the Inquisitor.

Through the crowd we hear, “Hey you, in the Guard Flak!”

Garm turns and sees some PDF’s armed with sub-machine guns in a crowded street. This is the point where everyone starts hauling me faster down the road.

But not Garm.

Garm pulls a “Come at me Bro!” and pulls out his sword. Garm’s feral beliefs says that he must now draw blood because he drew his sword. The PDF’s are a good 20m away…

The PDF’s open fire, ONE PDF hits his mark.

Roll for damage. Garm takes huge damage.

The crowd goes into a frenzy, some people are wounded by gunfire and many are trying to leave the area. All of a sudden Garm thinks it’s a good idea to run away, draws blood on himself, and proceeds to try and get the fuck out.

On the other side of the city we make it to the Valkyrie gun ship and decide that it’s a bad idea to leave someone who knows about an Inquisitor behind. The group decides to do an air drop to save Garm, but pop a cap in his ass for being a huge liability. We rush into a crowded city with a Valkyrie gun ship and do just that, causing much panic and fear from the locals who are already terrified because the police have just opened fire in a crowded street to try and kill some lunatic with a sword.

This does not bode well for when we see our Inquisitor next.

When Garm reached the top of the rope ladder, we were all standing there, guns in hand, except our beloved Psyker/Cleric.

The bay doors close behind Garm. We are all ready to fill him full of lead. The only reason we didn’t kill him right then and there was because our Psyker jammed our weapons believing it was wrong for us to kill Garm.

So after being offered a forced Olive Branch (we all begrudgingly agreed that killing him would be too much trouble, especially with no weapons to shoot at him) Garm decides to draw his sword so he can try and take a few of us down while he had the chance.

Cue DM intervention! The Valkyrie hits some major turbulence (Thank the Great God Emperor). Garm was the only one standing not strapped in.

-20 agility check. Fail.

Our dear Garm smashed his head against the wall and was rendered helpless. Our Psyker played Kindergarten teacher and told him that he could have his weapons back after he has learned to be nice.

After a brief chat with our Inquisitor and a small check-up procedure by the Inquisitor’s Tech-Priest, Garm was turned into a Servitor programmed to clean for the Emperor. 

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Pathfinder campaign, running for a few months, and we’re on the final session plowing our way through the final few rooms until we get to the boss (the Carrion King.) I’ve got a Barbarian who was planned out to be a lot more interesting than he ended up being in practice. Our rogue is a multiclassed Barbarian as well with an INT score that doesn’t really break the bank, but he’d always done a good job of finding traps for us.

So we’re descending this long, Guggenheim-style staircase-room with no railings and a deep chasm in the center when we’re all hit with complicated, DM-created trap that opens with a blinding spell.

Everyone saves except for the gnome sorcerer, but no one has evasion, so while most of us are blind for three rounds, the sorcerer is blind for nine minutes.

The blinded party (along with the fifteen meat-shields we had just rescued) is then hit with the second part of the trap: a wire which yanks us all together like in a Looney Tunes short.

Being in the center of the uncomfortable heap (and with the sorcerer wedged up against my buttcheeks) I roll a great strength check to break our bonds from the inside, unwittingly sending several meat shields over the edge of the staircase and onto the waiting up-turned spears of the pair of gnolls waiting below.

As the blind sorcerer starts clambering up my barbarian’s back for safety, the rest of us regain our sight and realize the third part of the trap: a magical-fire type of “fuse” flaring up in a spiral along the wall, and a sort of gunpowder showering down on everything from above. We have only a couple of rounds before the explosion hits, and the remaining NPCs we rescued are ignoring all fire safety and crowding the door we came through so that no one can get out.

The rogue jumps for it with his ring of featherfall, and my friend playing the sorcerer mentions that he, too, has a ring of featherfall, but no way of understanding what’s going on in his blinded and confused state.

In my first feeling of creative problem solving I’ve felt with my character in ages, I hatch a plan.

I run as far up the staircase as I can and ready an action to jump into the chasm while holding the sorcerer as soon as the fuse reaches its end, thus doing the action-movie thing and saving us from the explosion. The DM, who is a huge fan of this kind of playing, heartily approves. We wait…

And as soon as the fuse ends, I make my acrobatics roll.

1

The barbarian, holding onto the sorcerer, gets tangled in the aforementioned wire and slams them both into the side of the staircase as it explodes, the force of which blasts them across the room into another wall of fire on the other side, knocking the sorcerer into negative HP. At this point we reconvene a discussion of whether a gnome wearing a featherfall ring could sustain the barbarian carrying him, and the DM decides to make it a CON roll on the sorcerer’s part. The sorcerer’s player is a DM himself and knows to never take CON as a dump stat, so this should be ewasy enough.

1

The unconscious sorcerer dislocates his shoulder and the barbarian tumbles, barely catching himself on a flaming staircase, as the gnome drifts lazilly down, bleeding out and hanging from a sickeningly dislocated arm wearing the crucial ring. Once he lands, the rogue (who had dispactched the two gnolls at the bottom in this time) does a little bit of roleplaying and shouts that he attempts to heal the sorcerer, despite having no ranks in heal.

1

“The rogue attempts to kick the shoulder back into place. 3 damage.”

Thankfully the party cleric had made her own way down there by that point and saved the sorcerer at the last possible moment, but at this point we all turn to the DM, “What was the DC on that trap?”

“It was only 23! I didn’t want to make it to cruel, but he rolled a 21.”

“Oh shit,” says the rogue. “I forgot my +2 to trapfinding.”