I have reached out to crowe, as well.  He did a BANG UP job with Garner before he flaked out.

I get it; the guy burned really hot, then something happened in his personal life, and he probably feels embarassed to try to come back.  Dude, it's the Inn.  It happens.   We love ya, come play with us more!

Pace yourself.  Some can go faster than others.  Remember that Trek allows for backposting and such, so it's no big deal if, say, your back and forth post at the lounge takes day to complete while the main plot goes mnore directly.

Josie, I love the enthusiasm... but we're nowhere near THAT proficient. 

If you can post 1-2 good times a week, I'm happy.  This game is never going to be a speed demon.

I just did a little housekeeping, copied the rank/chain of command stuff to the info posts back on page one of this thread.

We will all likely feel lost for a bit.

It's genius, I'm telling you!

Even better than Darth Furrious, the dread Ewok Sith Lord who I created just to be silly.

Cool.  It's officail - Raven (aka one of the founding member of the Inn from waaaaaay back when) is going to assume the role of Cedric!

You're just jealous you didn't think of it.

Art!  That's what I need!  Art!

This past weekend, I got to musing, and in the process, I came up with perhaps the greatest Sith Lord of all time... at least, if you count puniness as a positive.

Imagine, if you will, a tall, reptilian figure who who walks on two legs like a man, yet has a tail that ends in a heavy, spiky ball. 

The figure is dressed in black robes, wears a mask, carries a red lightsaber with a crossguard made of raw energy.

For some reason, my family does not seem able to appreciate the genius that is the dreaded Ankylo Ren, but I find myself cackling with glee everytime I think of him!

That's exactly what I was hoping for, too, but he's not up to it right now, he says.

Looking forward to it!

Well, I reached out to Duncan via FB.  As you know if you're his friend there, he's going through some major issues - health, finances, work, etc.  He thanked me for the invite, but doesn't feel that he'll be able to properly focus and participate in the game. 

You can't really break your actions up like that in one round, though you can give a plan of withdrawl like you specify and see what happens...

Thought I'd give y'all a silver screen to enjoy.  We need some touching family moments to help liven things up.

Pupils dilated, flaxen hair plastered with sweat to her brow, breath coming in shallow pants, the young woman screamed anew in agony.  Her belly, her back, her womanhood all burned in fiery pain.  Blood spurted freely, soiling the bed and pooling on the floor.  She was young - only seventeen winters - had no other children, had never witnessed childbirth up close... but she knew that it wasn't supposed to be like this.  Oh, the women around the village tittered of pain when the baby came, but nothing like this agony.

Another horrid contraction clutched her tightly, threatened to crush the very life from her lungs, and though she did her best to hold it back, another scream tore its way out of her throat. 

The crone by her bed patted her hand kindly.  "There, child - one more good push.  One more!"

And so, she pushed again, with the pain becoming even more unbelievable.  Spots appeared before her eyes, the world began to dim.  "You fools!" hissed a man's voice, "if she bleeds to death, all is for naught!"

She felt herself slipping in and out of reality, but focus slowly came back to a backdrop of low chanting.  The lass felt stronger, though the pain itself was still unthinkable.  They wiped a small form with cloths, and it began an odd gurgling, moaning cry.  The crone took it from the acolytes and brought it to the girl.

"You have a son!" the old one proclaimed, pulling the bloody towel back to reveal mottled, splotchy skin.  Yellow eyes.  Tiny fangs.  Fingers ending in tiny claws.

Exhausted, the new mother held out her arms, gratefully accepting the thing to her breast.  Even as she felt the tiny fangs pierce her tender flesh, she revelled in the thought. 

A son. 

Heedless of the blood slowly dripping down her blouse, the girl stared dreamily at the tiny figure as she stroked its twisted head...

Attack of opportunity is a mechanism introduced in 3e; it doesn't exist, per se, in 2e.

However, if you are engaged in melee, electing to turn and flee gives the enemy a free (extra) attack - very much like an AoO.  You can tactically withdraw (back away) at 1/3 your movement rate and not subject yourself to the free attack.  If you have a comrade that can block the enemy's advance, you can completely withdraw in a round without subjecting yourself to the free shot, and the enemy has to content with your ally or subject themselves to that free shot. 

Moving into an opponent's reach does not incur an AoO in 2e, but it you try to, say, run past them, the same thing happens - they get a free extra attack.

Make sense?

I figured that you'd be cool with it; often, some of the best character stories involve those that we bury... and you strike me as the best sort of player. 

But I did want to be clear that I'm not bing a meanie GM (well, no more than is to be expected from the genre)... this is a DANGEROUS adventure.  We've lost one PC so far, we came really close to losing another... if we don't lose one or two more before we're done, I'll be legitimately surprised.

Just going to drop a nugget or two here...

From the initial recruitment thread post:

One final warning: I have a reputation as a killer DM, and to be honest, the reputation is at least somewhat fair. I truly don't go out of my way to kill players, but if you do stupid things ("I charge into the bandit camp alone, using surprise to my advantage!"), well... you made that bed, you get to lie in it. That being said, I *have* killed off players simply because the dice were not kind. Adventuring is dangerous business, and death is a real part of it. If you sign up to play and you die, please don't take it personally.

From the second post in the Q&A:

One final admonition - this is a horror flavored game and I am an evil DM.  I will be very surprised if every character survives this adventure.  That is no fault of anyone here, it's just reality.

Not saying anybody's gonna die; the dice will have a lot to do with that.  Just don't take it personally if a lone character in the dark woods buys it.  Or when things get into the third act, and it gets ugly...

You have a little space - call it 20 feet or so.  Not melee yet, but do recall that these things have proven to be every bit as fast as a living adventurer.

Josie has indicated that she would like to return and pick up Lieutenant Tal.  I'ma try to get Duncan to come back with Thorson!

Close.  I've had to make a couple of adjustments.  Almost there...

The giggling isn't loud enough for you guys to hear.  If Kith calls out, screans, etc - that will be different. 

Ten minutes?  Fifteen?

The light of the fire vanished pretty quickly in the woods.

I do wonder, though, how loyal this team truly is to Friend Computer. 

Doesn't sound promising?  That depends entirely on which side of the screem that you're sitting...

How far away is she?  Lemme check my notes... carry the three... four miles, give or take? 

Far enough that help isn't going to make it within the next couple of rounds.  And of course, finding the scout in the dark in the woods isn't going to be automatic...

Cedric and Midge are roused from their slumber as the party quietly debates the screams.  Kith sets off to act as a scout while the rest make ready.

The night is still oppressively warm, and the lack of sounds - no birds, no tree frogs, not even insects calling out - is unsettling, to say the least.  With no auditory cover, the rogue has to beat down thoughts that every quiet footfall is a thunderclap, that her hushed breathing is a roaring river in the night.

The ground is treacherous, at least for moving silently.  Tree roots jut up from the soil, leaves and twigs lie everywhere, just waiting to rustle or snap.  Despite her best efforts, Kith can feel the tension rise up inside, but she presses onward, senses razor sharp, looking for anything.

As she carefully slips around a mighty oak to the edge of a small clearing, the rogue spots a dark, human-like shape upon the ground on the far side, perhaps twenty yards distant.  On a more normal, brighter night, the moon might have illuminated the scene, but as it is, Kith feels fortunate to be able to pick up on the shape at all. 

The first sound she hears is a low moan.  The half-syl freezes, realizing that there is slow movement around the falled shape. 

The second sound is far more sinister - a quiet, joyful sound of glee... that slowly rises in manic giggling intensity.  Close by.

And directly behind her.  Between Kith and her friends.