Skull and Shackles dice

We ordered a set of special Skull and Shackles dice to go with our Pathfinder Card Game.

They are really cool, looking like ivory or bone, and with sea chart-like designs on the faces.

The highest face on each die is a skull.


The set is really intended for the rpg, so it includes a d20 and a percentile 10’s. We don’t need these for the card game, but they are nice to have.

It is kind of annoying that the game keeps requiring multiple rolls of the same dice as this means we have to include the standard dull blue dice in our rolls. This wouldn’t happen in the rpg, but the mechanics are different in the card game.

Rum Punch

“Something is not right here”, says Valeros, looking around the marketplace. His hand moves to the hilt of his sword.

Merisiel taps his arm twice and vanishes into the crowd.

Turning, Valeros glances at the half-elven siblings. Lirianne and Seltyiel are a short distance away, heads together, whispering to each other. Valeros waves briefly to them. They nod, separate, and begin to survey the square.

The mood in the marketplace has subtlely changed. The volume of chatter is lower and the haggling merchants are less animated.

Valeros shifts his position to place his back to a wall.

A faint blue light glistens around Seltyiel’s hands.

Lirianne slowly pulls back the hammers of her flintlocks. There is a clear audible click.

For an moment, like a lull in a storm, a quiet falls over the square. Everyone seems to be holding their breath.





Merisiel appears at Valeros’s side. She is wiping a dagger on her thigh.

“There were five assassins,” she says. “The fifth got away.”


Drink up, me hearties

SeltyielSeltyiel raises his hands and takes a slow step backwards. The rapier point follows his movement, inches from his throat.

The alleyway is dark. Moonlight shines on the roof tiles, but shadows hide the features of the ruffian brandishing the sword.

“Time to pay up,” the thug snarls, “We don’t like people trying to avoid our ‘taxes’!”

Three more sinister shapes sidle out of doorways and three more blades glint in the darkness.

Seltyiel flexes his fingers slightly. Faerie-fire flickers on his fingertips as he watches the sword-points advance towards him. His back presses against the rough wall and he prepares to strike.

Suddenly four sharp cracks echo around the alley. The bitter smell of gunpowder fills the air. Four bodies slump to the ground.

“Not bad if I say so myself,” comes a voice from the rooftops, “Four out of four, and in the dark too!”

Seltyiel relaxes. “Where have you been?” he says, “I’ve been leading them around for hours.”

Lirianne drops lightly to the cobblestones and holsters her flintlocks.

“Stop fussing,” she says, “You are being like Dad.”

Seltyiel grimaces. “Why do you keep saying things like that?” he says, “Just because you were old enough to know him before he left and I wasn’t.”

Lirianne hooks her arm around his neck and rubs her knuckles into his scalp.

“Come on,” she laughs, “Let us get out of this miserable port. I am sick of the smell of fish.”


Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me

Valeros leans on the bulwark and gazes down into the frothing waters. Merisiel places her slim hand on his shoulder.

“We are a long way from the Lost Coast, my friend,” she says, “You should try and forget her.”

Valeros smiles, tight-lipped. Merisiel joins him at the rail and together they gaze out across the waves. The ship sways slightly as it glides through the shoals and the archipelago of the Shackles islands seems to float on the horizon.

Merisiel glances sideways at her companion.

“Seoni was always going to go her own way,” she says.

“I know,” sighs Valeros, “I just… I thought I could be what she needed. Someone to rely on.”

“She was a barbarian sorceress,” says Merisiel, “and there was otherworldly blood in her. I do not think she knew what she wanted, or will ever.”

Valeros straightens up.

“You are right,” he says, “I should put the past behind me. Let us instead look ahead to the future, and the adventure and riches we have in store.”

Merisiel smiles and claps him on the back.

There is a sudden cry from high in the rigging.

“A sail, a sail! Bearing upon us from the nor-east!”

Valeros and Merisiel dash across the deck to see the approaching vessel. The lookout holds the spyglass to his good eye.

“They are raising their colours!” he cries, “It is the Skull! They are pirates!”


The Crusaders: The big clock

The Crusaders hand Ironbriar over to the city guard. As he is dragged away he shouts over his shoulder.

‘She will come for me!’ he cries, ‘My Angel watches over all of us. She will come for me!’

Lini looks up at the tower of the Shadow Clock. The moon looms behind the spire. ‘”Watches over all of us”,’ she muses, ‘An actual Angel?’

Seelah shakes her head. ‘The Skinsaw Cult brought a legion of undead to this land,’ she says, ‘Whoever is controlling them is in that tower. I suspect they are the very opposite.’

Amiri leans on her greatsword. ‘Angel or Demon, I do not relish such a climb before a battle,’ she says.

Sajan starts doing stretching exercises.


The Crusaders: We must be cautious

The mood in Sandpoint is brighter. The murders have stopped and there have been no undead sightings. There is talk of another Swallowtail Festival.

“It has been a tough time for this town these last few months,” says Lini, “Goblins, zombies, ghosts and murderers. The townsfolk deserve a celebration.”

Seelah has been examining the letters they found in the Manor.

“It is a shame we shall not be here to join them.” she says.

“What?” says Amiri, “I was looking forward to the festival.”

Seelah gathers the papers into a pile.

“Aldern Foxglove was receiving letters from the Cult of Norgorber.” she explains, “We are going to Magnimar.”

“Magnimar?” says Amiri, perking up, “I know a good tavern in Magnimar.”

Lini strokes her tiger behind his ear and looks out at the town.

“I shall miss this place.” she says.

Sajan is in the square doing one last magic trick for the children.


The Crusaders: Who you gonna call?

Sheriff Hemlock orders the town guard to hold back the crowd.

“This is the fifth one,” he says, “People are getting scared.”

The Crusaders stand around the gruesome remains. They have seen many things in their travels, but this is something new.

“This was not done by an animal,” says Lini.

Seelah eyes the crowd, “No-one saw anything?”

Hemlock shrugs, “Some people keep to themselves, some people are nosey. Either way, no one is talking.”

Sajan is examining the corpse. Amiri crouches beside him. She lifts a flap of skin and breathes out softly.

“Bite marks,” she says, “and the smell of rot.” Sajan nods in agreement.

Hemlock asks the question, “What does that mean?”

Amiri stands and wipes her fingers on her leggings. Her face is grim.

“Undead cannibal serial killer,” she says.

Seelah takes Hemlock to one side.

“If the murderer is now undead, then they must have changed shortly before the murders started. Is there anyone who hasn’t been seen recently?” she asks.

Hemlock thinks. “It has been quiet out at the haunted hou-, er, I mean, out at Foxglove Manor,” he says. “Neither Aldern or Iesha Foxglove have been into town for a while.”

“Haunted, eh?” says Lini.

Amiri hefts her warhammer, “I am not afraid of any ghosts.”


Crow Bait

The Crusaders: I’ll miss you most of all

The Necromancer is chained up in gaol but is giving nothing away. All that the Crusaders have been able to glean from him is that there is an undead plague spreading across the Lost Coast, and Sandpoint is in its way.

“We need to know more about these undead,” says Seelah, “if we are to prepare for an attack.”

“Leave me alone with him for a minute,” says Amiri.

“That is not the way we do things,” says Seelah, frowning.

Lini sighs. “It seems we are left with legwork,” she says, “We shall need to scout outside the town.” Her tiger perks up at the thought of a trek.

At that moment, Sajan runs up carrying a small girl crying in his arms. He sets the child down and gestures for her to speak.

“Walky stick-men took my mommy!” she wails. “I want my mommy!”

The others look at Sajan. He stands upright, sticks his arms out sideways then flops his head to one side.

“Scarecrows?!” says Seelah.

They gaze out across the surrounding farmlands. The faint sound of cawing can be heard…


The Crusaders: There ain’t no sanity clause

“Sanatorium?” says Amiri the Barbarian, gesturing with her tankard, “Huh, you city-folk put way too much store by sanity. A bit of madness is good for you!”

Seelah the Paladin straightens her back. “Clarity of mind and purpose is how things get done!” she insists, “It is how civilizations are built! If we do not…”

Lini the Druid snorts mead out of her nose.

Seelah looks at her, finger frozen in mid-air. Is that a smirk on Sajan the Monk’s stony face?

Amiri laughs, “Sorry, Seel. You’re way too easy!”