how does the druid not stink?

[The Cardinal]

1. get gloves of storing
2. get a club
3. cast Shillelagh on it
4. cast Spikes (from DoF) on it
5. store the weapon in one of the gloves

result?

instant access to a magical bludgeoning/piercing weapon that attacks at +2 and does 1d10+1+1/caster level (max.10)+Strength modifier damage (threat on 19-20)

so my Druid 7 / Verdant Lord 1 (Str18) attacks with it like this:

+12/+7
1d10+14
19-20/x2

...all for the cost of one lousy glove (2,200gp)

 

[Dr. Strangemonkey]

1. get gloves of storing
2. get a club
3. cast Shillelagh on it
4. cast Spikes (from DoF) on it
5. store the weapon in one of the gloves

result?

instant access to a magical bludgeoning/piercing weapon that attacks at +2 and does 1d10+1+1/caster level (max.10)+Strength modifier damage (threat on 19-20)

so my Druid 7 / Verdant Lord 1 (Str18) attacks with it like this:

+12/+7
1d10+14
19-20/x2

...all for the cost of one lousy glove (2,200gp)

This is the most amazingly brilliant thing I have ever read. Way better than Plato's Republic.

 

[Skaros]

1. get gloves of storing
2. get a club
3. cast Shillelagh on it
4. cast Spikes (from DoF) on it
5. store the weapon in one of the gloves

result?

instant access to a magical bludgeoning/piercing weapon that attacks at +2 and does 1d10+1+1/caster level (max.10)+Strength modifier damage (threat on 19-20)

so my Druid 7 / Verdant Lord 1 (Str18) attacks with it like this:

+12/+7
1d10+14
19-20/x2

...all for the cost of one lousy glove (2,200gp)

Which is all great if your DM happens to rule that the 'stasis' provided by the glove halts spell durations.

I'd guess that it doesn't, without evidence that it should. Otherwise the durations from all kinds of nasty buff spells could be lengthened to near infinity. Greater Magic Weapon, etc.

I seriously doubt that was the intention of the 2k GP glove.

-Skaros

 

[Dr. Strangemonkey]

As a DM I would allow it, the clock will still be ticking when you get to use them. And it's clever enough that I'd be tolerant. The only thing that's really saved is the time spent casting the spells, which is fine by me since it gets characters to use some spells they otherwise wouldn't pay attention to. Mind you I'd say there is no way the spells would last past whatever point the druid needs to refresh spells at.

As a player I can get a DM to allow it with a moderate bribe and some sly legerdemain.

 

[Zenon]

You realize, of course, that the glove has no effect in stopping the spells duration of anything placed in the glove.

I have questioned both The Sage and WotC Customer Service on this and received the same reply from both: The Glove of Storing does not place magical spell durations in "stasis" like a normal lit torch would be. Otherwise it's way overpowered, you could have a GMW cast at 15th level on your weapon that would last an entire adventuring career.

There have been several threads about this in the past, but I am not a community supporter so I can't search for them to give you the links, sorry.

Other than that, it's a nice combo. I have a cleric of St. Cuthbert in my game who casts spikes on his club and keeps it in a glove of storing to dispense common sense on the spot.

edit - dang, others beat me to it. Must learn to post faster!

 

[Dr. Strangemonkey]

Curse that sage and his Nerfing ways!!! He's costing me tens of dollars in DM bribes.

 

[BOZ]

how does the druid not stink?

last i heard, they had no special restrictions against bathing.

 

[fnork de sporg]

This is the most amazingly brilliant thing I have ever read. Way better than Plato's Republic.

I wasn't sure I would agree with this, but if you include your reply then yes, way better.

 

[Gez]

Druid sucks ?

I'll just quote this passage from Sep's story hour... Nwm (pronounced Noom) is a druid. It's entitled, "One druid." And you won't want to count druids among your enemies after that:

Brey gazed skywards and observed the quickening clouds. They were moving at an unnatural speed and, seemingly, converging from all directions simultaneously. A huge thunderhead was forming directly above the camp.

The Druid, he thought, cursing. Apparently, the rumours that the Nature-Priest had no stomach for the fight were wrong.

The Templar ran towards Melion’s tent, barking orders as he moved. "Go to ground. Get everyone back from the waterfront."

Brey burst in to the command tent where Melion sat stiffly, his age apparent, unaccustomed to the armour that he was wearing for the first time in twenty years. The Inquisitor General was in conference with the Templar Lords Irian and Hembur, Rede’s deputies and ascendant stars in the new administration.

Melion growled. "Lord Brey, might I remind you that your probationary period is not yet over. A little more decorum would be appreciated."

"Nwm is here," Brey said simply.

Melion swallowed and, anticipating a firestorm, warded himself against the possible ill effects..

The Temple knights and soldiers looked up and saw the eagle descending upon them, and as it swooped, the clouds parted from the gale which issued from it. Many of the more ignorant cowered, thinking that Oronthon’s wrath had descended upon them. Rumbles of thunder echoed across the field, and lightning flickered across the cloudtops.

Melion shouted across the meadows. "It is a pagan trick – do not be dismayed. We are favoured!" His voice, thin and reedy although it was, carried conviction and confidence.

Nwm circled at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet, his pinioned form naked against the clouds except for a sprig of mistletoe which hung from one huge talon. He screeched a spell, and giant eagles appeared around him. They plummeted downwards.

Melion cursed. The Druid fully understood the use of appropriate symbolism and propaganda, it appeared. And he was currently out of range. The Inquisitor summoned four celestial griffons and dispatched them to intercept the eagles.

Nwm resumed his human form – a speck against the grey clouds. He began to drop rapidly, but was unperturbed. Many of the more quick-witted amongst those on the ground drew bows, and scores of quarrels and arrows were shot towards him, only to be deflected harmlessly away by the tornado-force winds which emanated from the Druid.

There. Melion. Nwm concentrated as the air rushed around him, and evoked the effects of a spell already cast. The sky crackled, and a single stroke of lightning, fed by the living storm and immensely potent, arced downwards and struck the Inquisitor, dropping him instantly.

As Templars crowded around Melion in an effort to revive him, lesser clerics began to cast spells at Nwm. He shook off the effects of three attempts to silence him, and no trace of concern crossed his face as a dozen celestial hawks and eagles, two celestial pegasi and several minor elementals began to manifest across the field. At a height of forty fathoms, feathery wings sprouted from the Druid’s back and he arrested his fall.

No pity, he thought to himself. I must show no pity.

Nwm began to fly upwards again, and invoked another spell. Vines sprang up, covering over an acre at the centre of the camp, in an area where the tents were most densely crowded. They wrapped around arms and legs, pinning many of those within a one-hundred yard circle, and impeding all of them in their efforts to move. Across the infested area, dozens of soldiers began to sicken and fall from the poison in the toxic vines.

The Druid looked downwards and observed that the celestial birds and elementals were closing on him slowly and beginning to converge. He smiled grimly – he knew that they could not penetrate the winds around him. He spoke a potent summoning, and the sky nearby began to move and distort: the vague outline of something huge and nebulous appeared next to him. It began to move towards the ground effortlessly and with great speed.

No mercy, he reminded himself.

The Druid drew his staff from across his back and clasped it tightly in his fist. He spoke a word of power, and continued his ascent. The orb on the staff crackled darkly as its ultimate power manifested.

Below the thunderhead, an area of blackness formed, shot through by purple lightning and moving with wisps of dark vapour. A huge shadow appeared above the camp, and peals of thunder broke out, deafening those below. On the ground, the elemental conjured by Nwm was ripping a swathe through those who tried to resist it. It had begun to spin on its axis, flinging tents on the periphery of the camp in all directions. It moved slowly, deliberately and systematically eliminating those who did not flee.

But the most brutal effects were yet to come. Nwm flew on, maintaining concentration upon the unnatural cloud, and acid began to rain down. The Druid glanced down to see Brey and two other Templar Lords standing impotently over the body of Melion. He didn’t know their names. He didn’t care. Irian perished, obliterated by three bolts of lightning which simultaneously struck him from above, Hembur almost died, struck by three more.

In the hail which followed, Lord Hembur did die. So did eight hundred others, many entangled in the poisoned vines, and unable to move.

As the minor elementals closed on him, Nwm swerved down to meet them. They, and then the celestial animals were blown out of the Druid’s path.

Nwm banked around and flew back towards the camp. He circled around the periphery, looking for those who might still be standing. Many were fleeing north and south, parallel to the river’s course, whilst others were routed to the west. A few brave souls dared the river itself. Still, the huge elemental moved unchecked through the camp.

No mercy, Nwm swallowed.

The Druid, from a safe height, blocked off the egress from the north of the field, where many were attempting to escape, with a vast cloud of swarming insects. Over a period of half a minute, in a four-hundred foot arc which spread west and then south, pockets of grasses and weeds sprang up, entangling many and causing others to flee in panic away from them, lest they were poisonous. Nwm began to descend, but before he could cast another spell, he was enveloped in silence. Swearing wordlessly, he began to climb again, reached a height of a thousand feet, and circled slowly, waiting for the spell to wear off. The Druid waited patiently – the clouds were already pregnant with energy again. Two minutes passed. Three. Four. Five.

Suddenly, the noise of the wind and storm flooded again into Nwm’s ears as the magical silence evaporated. He concentrated on his torc, seeking mentally for powerful spellcasters. Their whereabouts were determined in an instant. Two of significant ability.

Leading Templars were attempting to rally their knights and auxiliaries and order the retreat from the field. Nwm ignored them, his gaze shifting to a lone figure. A cleric in shining plate was performing a ritual desperately, beside of the wreck of a tent. Nwm spoke a word, and another streak of lightning flashed down, targeting the cleric. It dissipated harmlessly around him, and he continued to intone.

Warded, Nwm thought, and powerfully. The Druid ignored him and began to beat his way downwards.

Hundreds were fleeing southwards and westwards now, as all other ways were effectively blocked. Nwm intoned yet another spell as he closed, and a curtain of green fire, three hundred feet long, sprang up. Intense heat blistered skin and caused people to shy away again – most of those few foolish enough to try and pass through were immolated.

Chaos reigned upon the ground, and had they stopped to think amid their panic, the fleeing troops would have recognized that the Druid, with his spells, had created an immense funnel upon the ground, and that they were being herded into it.

Nwm flew down, and prepared to invoke a succession of flame strikes and flaming spheres, emptying his magical arsenal.

Abruptly, in the eye of calm air at the centre of his personal hurricane, Eadric and Mostin materialized. Mostin floated easily, and Eadric was supported by a pair of winged boots, borrowed from Ortwin.

The Paladin looked grim. "Please stop, Nwm. You’ve made your point."

 

[KnowTheToe]

Druids rock. They may not be uber powerful, but they are flexible and fun. I really enjoyed my animal companion until our wizrd BBQ'd him accidentially with a few fireballs. Shortly after, I failed a balance check and fell a few hundred feet. The only wildshape I had left was pancake.