Some people know all of the rules to the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game, but many, many more do not. Here’s a list of the things we screwed up in our never-ending search for Pathfinder perfection…
And the winner for cheater of the week goes toooo…
Me! (with a solid Honorable Mention for Matthew.)
Let’s start with the Honorable Mention. Surprised by a giant venus flytrap, Della enacted a cool spell she prepared called Windy Escape. As you heard, the spell allows her to, as an immediate action, get sort of vaporous and insubstantial, gaining DR 10/magic and immunity to sneak attack, poisoning, or critical hits. Neat spell, Matthew, but perhaps you should read the rules of Pathfinder before you play.* Matthew cheated because one cannot cast Windy Escape while flat-footed, and in a surprise round before you’ve acted. Well, you don’t get more flat-footed than that. So Matthew sneaks one by the goalie there. But let’s get to this episode’s award winner for cheating-est cheater to ever cheat:
I was sort of over-the-moon excited to cast my first actually useful combat spell as a Paladin. I got an additional spell per day when I leveled up and the possibilities for Sir Will’s combat relevance effectively doubled. I had prepared Liberating Command specifically to help an ally that got grappled. As the tank/support, I feel that it’s my role to avoid preparing attack spells and instead prepare things that aid the party in combat. I couldn’t believe that my gamble paid off! I had the perfect spell for the perfect moment, but I neglected to do one minor thing – read the basic rules of spell casting.**
In order to cast a targeted spell, meaning the spell has a specific target (not just an area like burning hands, or grease), the caster must have not only line of effect to the target, but also line of sight. Though Will knew exactly where Della was, and there was no obstruction between him and the flytrap, Della was wholly engulfed by the creature and thus, not within line of sight. Now, it’s nice when our stupid mistakes end up failing so that we don’t really ruin the reality of the narrative. I suspect, however, that Troy let me cast the spell, knowing that it was against the rules, because he just wanted to see me fail, yet again, on record. Well, you win this round, Lavallee. Who knew my terrible rolling would also immediately transfer to whomever I buffed with a spell?
I’m not quite done yet, though my part in this tale is over. I just want to add something here. Sometimes in doing research for rules that we screw up, I stumble into a reality check that frightens me looking to the future, and not just in Giantslayer, but in any Pathfinder game I play. This is one of those times. Did you know that the same rules I broke above also apply to channeling positive energy to heal? That’s right. The next time the cleric (or paladin, or warpriest) in your party attempts to heal someone that’s been swallowed whole, or pulled behind a closed door, or engulfed, or trapped on the business end of a Wall of Fire, they don’t get the channel. That knowledge right there has the power to kill, and I’d hate to be the messenger on that one. Burning alive in the stomach of a giant wyrm, your bard is one hit point from death and the cleric goes, “I’m within 30 feet, right? I’ll channel and at least keep you up this round.” Your GM is like, “Very cool. Do it.” What do you you do? Do you let them know that it’s straight up illegal and that the acid damage this round kills the bard?
Yes, that’s exactly what you do.
F*&% that bard!
Alright, guys, thanks for putting up with our novice understanding of this great game. I’ll be back the next time we cheat!
*Considering that “reading the rules of the game” would take approximately 400-500 hours, I understand why Matthew did not do it.
**The basic rules of spell casting are 37 pages long.