Fimbulvinter

[Steerpike]

Good questions!  This is moving faster than I thought :).

For equipment, you all start with 500 gp to spend.  Prices will be different in-game - this equipment represents stuff you've accumulated before Fimbulvintr started as well as stuff obtained in the last two years.  Barter will probably be as or more common than gold.  The only heavy armour available is Splint Mail.

You get 15 points to spend on Ability scores (Standard Fantasy).

[Kindling]

Right then, I'm definitely in. I'm gonna track down that link someone gave me to a Pathfinder SRD and read up a bit, but I'm thinking straight Fighter, probably went a-Viking himself and thought it tremendous fun, and is now thoroughly displeased to be on the receiving end of a raid :P

[O Senhor Leetz]

500gp, Level 2, and 15 points? Good thing I have nothing to do tonight...

[Steerpike]

The SRD can be found here.  It's basically 3.5 with a few minor tweaks.  Skills work a little bit differently.  A couple of other things are fiddled with.  Nothing too major.

Alignment is silly.  I'm tempted to just not use it, although that would mean that quite a few spells wouldn't be usable (like Detect ___).  Is that OK with everyone?

EDIT: I should add that unless you're a foreigner or someone of pretty considerable status, you probably won't have any kind of sword (although you might have killed someone to get one).  Axes, spears, etc are far more common.

[O Senhor Leetz]

I'm neutral towards alignment.

[Polycarp]

I am potentially interested in this, though I am unfamiliar with Pathfinder.  What week were you planning to run the first session?

[Steerpike]

Probably in a couple of weeks.

Like I said it should be pretty casual.  I want the kind of game where if a character dies, the player doesn't feel too bad, because they hadn't invested 10000 hours into playing them, and where new characters can be introduced more or less like this: "You see a dark figure appear out of the white mist up ahead.  It seems to be a lone traveler, lost in the endless snows."

[Kindling]

I want the kind of game where if a character dies, the player doesn't feel too bad, because they hadn't invested 10000 hours into playing them, and where new characters can be introduced more or less like this: "You see a dark figure appear out of the white mist up ahead.  It seems to be a lone traveler, lost in the endless snows."

Yes.

EDIT: also, here's my guy...

RAGNVALDR

Level 2 Fighter

STR 16 +3
DEX 14 +2
CON 14 +2
INT 10 +0
WIS 10 +0
CHA 10 +0

Max HP: 21
Current HP: 21

BAB +2
AC 12 (18 in chainmail)

CMB +5
CMD 17

FORT +5 (+7 vs cold weather in furs)
REF +2
WILL +0 (+1 with Bravery)

Speed: 30ft (20ft in chainmail)
Armour check penalty (DEX/STR): -5 in chainmail
Carrying capacity: 76/77-153/154-230

Melee attacks:

Spear +7 1d8+3(+4 two-handed) x3
Dagger +5 1d4+3 19-20/x2
Unarmed +5 1d3+3 x2 nonlethal

Ranged attacks:

Spear +6 1d8+3 x3 20ft.
Dagger +4 1d4+3 19-20/x2 10ft.

Skills:

Climb  4 (+3 STR)
Intimidate 4
Handle Animal 4
Profession (sailor) 4
Survival 5

Feats:

Furious Focus: no power attack penalty on first attack per round when two-handed
Power Attack: -1 attack for +2 damage or +3 damage when two-handed
Shield of Swings: full attack when two-handed 1/2 damage for +4 shield bonus
Weapon Focus (spear): +1 to attacks with spears

Equipment:

Masterwork spear
Dagger x4
Chainmail
Combat-trained dog, "Aslaug"
Backpack
Bedroll
Winter blanket
Furs

[Superfluous Crow]

Huh, was sure I posted something in this thread before.

Anyway, as a Scandinavian I feel obliged to take part in this! It speaks to my inner viking.

That said, I think I'd be most interested in playing a völva seer/witch. Possibly blind, definitely mysterious, maybe a little macabre.

[Polycarp]

Well then, that's enough time for me to read the SRD.  Alright, I'm in.  Without knowing much about the archetypes, I'm most interested in the Úlfhéðinn, but I will play a cleric or any other class if needed.

Sounds pretty neat, SP.  As for realism vs. fantasy, I don't care either way; as for alignment, I don't know about Pathfinder, but you don't really suffer unduly in 3rd ed for not having spells like Detect Evil (or at least, I never did).  As long as there are useful spell alternatives, cutting out the few alignment-based ones isn't critical.

[Steerpike]

Cool.  I think we'll ditch Alignment then.  Doesn't sound like anyone's calling to keep it.

Details on some of the major tribal groups to come.  I was going to call them clans, but apparently "clan" meant more "family line" than "ethnic group" for the Norse.

I'm really pleased so many people are on board!  Crow, I'm especially gratified you're playing, as you might occasionally be of some minor linguistic help here and there - obviously you don't speak Old Norse (well, I'm assuming you don't) but you'll be far closer than me!

[TheMeanestGuest]

Hey guys, here is my character! Still working on him.

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

Andreas Roaldsen

Level 2 Human Brother of Saint Mark - Zeal Inquisition

HP: 19/19

BAB: +1
CMB: +3
CMD: 13

AC: 15

Fortitude: +5, Reflex: 0, Will: +6

Stats: 14 Strength, 10 Dexterity, 14 Constitution, 16 Wisdom, 10 Intelligence, 10 Charisma

Skills: Climb (1+3+2 - 6), Diplomacy (1+3 - 4), Intimidate (2+3+1 - 6), Knowledge (the Faith / 2+3 - 5) Perception (2+3+3 - 8), Sense Motive (2+3+3+1 - 9), Survival (2+3+3 - 8), Spellcraft (1+3 - 4) Swim (1+3+2 - 6)

Abilities: Strong Willed (roll twice against mind-effecting spells),  Stern Gaze (1/2 level morale bonus on intimidate and sense motive checks), Cunning Initiative (add wisdom bonus to initiative), Track (1/2 level bonus to survival checks to identify or follow tracks), Know Faith, Zealous Surge (1/day, heal level + wis mod when reduced to 0 or less)

Feats: Weapon Focus - Long Axe, Favoured Judgement - Heathens & Heretics

Spells:

Orisons - daze, spark, light, stabilize, read magic
1st level - The Unworthy Hand (burning disarm), Cry of the Martyr (ear-piercing scream), In Sheep's Clothing (disguise self)

Items:

Masterwork Scale Mail (+5 AC, -3 Check penalty)
Long Axe with masterwork scriptural engraving
Dagger
Javelins (2)

Fur Cloak, Cold Weather Gear, Tabard of the Order of Saint Mark, Holy Symbols of Saint Mark and the Faith, Tome of Scripture (fair quality), Flasks of Holy Water (2)

Backpack, Bedroll, Winter Blanket, Trail Rations (14 days), Shaving Kit, Manacles, Iron Pot, Silk Rope, Soap, Waterskins (2), Whetstone


[ic=A Star to Follow]A bone-deep chill, and he shivered. They were coming. A lone Brother of Saint Mark - bedecked in furs and chain and scale and the ash grey vestments of his order - strode hurriedly down the red-carpeted halls of the cathedral-fortress at Austerborg. Deserted. The men and women who had lived here were now fled. The King, the Bishop, the clergy and housecarls; all had gone. The long low groan of the wind seemed to follow him, and his breath misted in the air. The floors were strewn with the abandoned possessions of the wealthy. Fine clothes, well-crafted furniture, books and trinkets and jewelery. Discarded like so much trash. A shadow in the alcove to his left. Andreas Roaldsen stopped, and turned slowly, slowly towards it, his right hand tightening on the haft of his long axe. A corpse, seated in peaceful repose on a stone bench. He thrust his torch out, and stepped closer. By his clothes, the man had been a priest. His fingers were black, his lips blue, tears stuck frozen to his staring face.  Andreas struck out suddenly and violently, and the priest's head tumbled from its shoulders. He put his torch to the corpse's robes. For a second it would not catch, but only for a second. A whispered prayer, and it was alight from head to toe. He watched  the corpse burn until it was but smoldering ash.

Austerborg was colder now, and Andreas walked faster than he had before, his footfalls hardly muffled by the carpets that lay over the stone floors. A woman's scream echoed from behind him. They were here. But he was close, he could feel it, and that was what mattered. Faster, faster. And he was there. A pair of tall oaken doors stood before him, iron handles rimed with frost. He pushed. The hinges squealed in protest, but he put his weight into it, and they opened. His breath caught. The Cathedral Hall. It was as beautiful as he remembered it. Light streaming in through the high windows, illuminating a ceiling that was masterfully painted with scenes of scripture. Tapestries hung on the walls, bearing more images of the Faith. The neat rows of wooden benches, well polished by years of worshipers. His gaze fell on the alter at the very end of the aisle. And there it was. There she was. A flash in her hand. He stepped towards her.

"Woman." he said. Another step. "Witch!" he hissed. Even layered in furs, she was unmistakable. Her long brown hair spilled out of her hood, and even from this distance he could make out her twinkling green eyes. Another flash. The Star of Saint Mark caught the light as she passed it from hand to hand.

"Andreas. You should not have come." she said, her voice full of the lilting tones of her homeland. "The city below is dead. The greatest city in the North. Filled with half-gnawed and half-frozen corpses. Their faith could not save them, just as it will not save you. You will die here, Andreas." she smiled sadly.

"And will you kill me, Witch?" he spat. "Give me the Star, and we will walk from here. They cannot defeat its power. I will let you go." he gritted his teeth, and took another step.  

"You Fathermen. You are all the same. Faith will protect you. I will protect you." she laughed. "They came to us in our forests. They said the same things. That piety would bring peace. 'What of the Mother?' we asked them. And their faces would darken, and they would call us heathens, and they would come back with swords and spears. And we fought. But there are always too many of you Fathermen, and so in the end we could do naught but kneel. But piety did not bring peace, and we were no safer than we were before. The raiders still came, and the only difference was that now they burned our churches instead of our trees. They still stole, they still raped, they still killed. Your Father did not protect us. And now here I am, in the cold of the North, with something you want. How will you get it, Andreas?"

"You test me, Witch! I will kill you if I must." he was barely ten paces from her.

"You've said that before. Yet I still breathe." she looked down at the Star, cupped in her palm. "Tch. Too close, Andreas." she looked back up at him, and locked her gaze with his, and he was held fast by an unseen hand. He muttered prayers under his breath, and with agonizing slowness took another step forward. He brought his other hand to rest on the haft of his axe, and made as if to strike with it. She raised an eyebrow and sighed, and whispered a few words of her own. Light, sound, and he was lying on the ground, cradling his head and moaning softly. He got to his feet shakily, picking up his axe from where it lay. He turned towards the alter. She was gone, and he howled with rage.

The wind howled back. The high windows burst in a shower of glass and snow as it gusted in. He brought his hands up to shield his face. But as suddenly as it had come, the wind was gone. A soft sound, from the hallway outside. The skittering of tiny feet, or maybe the whisking of a razor across stubbled skin. The doors stood open. His heart dropped, and his stomach went cold as the fear seized him. He sprinted for the doors, throwing them shut, slamming the bar into place. A pressure in the air, and something pushing against from the other side. Pushing again, this time with more violence. The doors rocked in place. Andreas threw himself against them, his hands pressed firmly against the iron bar. "Father protect us. Keep us as a shepherd keeps his flock. Lend us your strength in our hour of need!" the iron glowed red where his hands touched it, and the pressure receded for a single moment. Then it was back, worse than before, the tang of metal in his mouth, and a rising nausea in his stomach. He strained against the door. The wood began to splinter. The whole bar glowed red-hot. "Father, keep me safe from harm. I will fear no evil, for you are with me. And yea, though my- " the door burst asunder with a resounding crack. Andreas was thrown backwards in a shower of wood and glowing iron to slide across the floor, coming to a rest at the foot of the alter. And he knew no more. [/ic]

[Kindling]

Awesome vignette, TMG!

Have I misunderstood Pathfinder's point-buy system for abilities? Cause Andreas seems to have better stats than Ragnvaldr...

[Polycarp]

I believe you have, as an attribute of 14 only costs 5 points, meaning that you've only spent 10 of the 15 points on Ragnvaldr (plus the +2 bonus humans get).  Check the character creation page on the SRD, it has point values for attributes there.

Mind you, I only started reading Pathfinder today, and I could be wrong.

[Kindling]

Ah, I missed the racial bonus... still though, that would leave me with a 16 12 14 10 10 10 spread where Andreas has 14 10 14 16 10 10... I think I must still be missing something. 10 points for a 16, 5 for a 14, and a +2 racial bonus is it, right?