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Ungroth the Bloody Male Half-Orc Rogue 9 Chaotic Neutral STR: 14 DEX: 18 CON: 14 INT: 14 WIS: 10 CHA: 10 Hit Points: 68 Speed: 30 Feet. Armor Class: 18 = 10 (Base) +4 (Dex) +3 (Armor) +1 (Feat) Touch: 14 Flat Footed: 15 Initiative Modifier: +10 = +4 (Dex) +2 (Trait) +4 (Feat). Fortitude...

Do alternate racial traits count against our 2 traits? Oh, and how is the stealth skill affected by items from 3.5 that grant bonuses to only Hide or Move Silently?

I'm looking over the SRD and am considering a Bard/Rogue, or Ranger/Rogue. So if no one wants to make a Rogue, i can have that covered.

I dont know much about pathfinder, but i love 3.5. I never even heard of ToH before, even though i've played Greyhawk extensively in 1st Ed.

"Elves?" he querries, as he and the dog exchange looks. "What? Wait! Hold on now!" he bellows, knocking over his chair in his haste to get up. He follows the others out. "What's this about elves? Do remember, i'm new around here." he says, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Flint hurriedly gulps down what's left in his mug before standing up with the others.

Flint pries his wayward axe out of the tree before moving down the road towards Solace.

This game is so dead. SIGH!

Garret smiles back at the innkeeper, and nods a greeting. "Good afternoon to you innkeep. A carafe of wine and two bowls of something meaty." he says cheerfully as he locates a table within good hearing distance of both of the already occupied tables. He then moves over to the table and sits...

"What a God-awful stench!" moans Flint, grabbing his nose. "Let us discuss this whole affair somewhere we can breathe!" he grumbles as he shuffles off down the road.

"Mmmmm..." Garret sighs. "Best take the lass to that temple yonder, as for myself, you can find me at the Inn." he says, walking briskly towards the building.

That part's a mystery to me. Flint has been swinging an axe since before any of the others were born, yet he's lower level than most of these little kiddies. It's definately an epic story-line fail.

But Flint is a level 4 fighter, shouldnt his base THAC0 be 17, and 16 with the +1 Hand-Axe?

Flint hears Tas's shout and looks over to see how he's doing, which allows the hobgoblin facing him to dodge his axe. Attack Roll, Round 3 (1d20+1=5, 1d6+2=5)

Garret crouches down to examine the object, but is visibly reluctant to touch it.

Flint draws his other Hand-Axe. Preparing to strike, he sees Tanis get hit and roars with fury, as he lands a vicious blow to his opponent. Attack roll, round 2 (1d20+1=19, 1d6+2=7)

Garret gives Ortrang a hard slap behind the head, then catches the pouch before it hits the ground. "Hasn't your mother ever taught you any respect?" he asks with a broad smile. "You should know you don't just go through other peoples belongings like that. We're not thieves after all..." he...

Flint quickly draws one of his Hand-Axes and throws it at the nearest goblin, but the act throws him off balace and the axe embeds itself in a tree, far far away from any goblins. 1d20=1, 1d6+2=5 Natural 1.

The boxes are created by starting with sblock=name of the box between these [] and ends with /sblock also between [] so if () were really [], this box would look like (sblock=blackdraco spoiler boxes) then the text, and ends with (/sblock) Valen quietly whispers to Robert: "I was thikin of...

Garret watches Falryn curiously. "Eaten by beasts or by bugs under the earth, they're going to end up in the same place. They are just empty shells now..." he says, before catching the moaning sounds. "But there, the living, perhaps. Much worthier of our attention."