That's not a mistake though, several of the gala dresses (Aj's included) only come with hoofwear on their front hooves. Which, I assume, is because the point is decoration rather than practicality and their hind legs are mostly hidden by their dresses.
The colors are weird in that shot (maybe something to do with color-correction) but there's only two hooves beneath the cart in panel 3. The other two "hooves" at the sides are actually the corners of her dress-cape thing. (No idea what it's actually called.) See how they're pointed and a little more green?
In an epic-level campaign, a party member with Leadership came up with a mook catapult brigade - this brigade all took the Iron Head feat and would throw each other at the enemy.
So, this story doesn't involve a catapult. It does involve a barista.
In a very silly Pathfinder campaign there was once a superstitious Gnome Titan Mauler Barbarian. He and his friends went on many adventures and fought many undead and Kaorti, and good times were had by all.
However, it was on one adventure the rogue had gotten grabbed by a young adult skeletal dragon while in the courtyard of a small castle. As the dragon started to fly off, I asked the GM if there was a barista on the walls.
There is, he says. Why?
Well, long story short, the gnome was fired at the dragon via barista, the dragon was turned to a pile of bones and there's now a gnome-sized dent in the castle tower... right under the window.
This one campaign I was in started with testing a gatling ballista. Enchanted to create its own ammo, gearwork to self-reload and fire when cranked (thus the need for gatling), mounted on a turret on the tallest tower in a city. It was basically a lawn sprinkler of doom with a 9 mile radius, far enough to reach the outlying towns, able to take down one mook per turn as they charged across the open fields between town and city. The idea was to reduce any invading army to its few named badasses by the time they reached the city walls, whereupon single-target anti-badass defenses would take over.
In practice it was mostly used for deliveries (such as fertilizer to farms, or precious metals and other such cargoes to a fleet traveling up the local river demanding tribute: when several multi-ton slugs of silver impacted the riverbank nearby at high velocity, they took the slugs and exercised the better part of valor), but eventually (years later IRL, toward the end of the campaign) the city was invaded, and it worked.
The first shot fired from the ballista was recovered, and turned into a stone elemental who became a minor recurring NPC. The foundations of the ballista became the city governor's office and local printing press/copy shop, and grew into a network of city services.
Okay so the party scout was scouting out an enemy cap, and had to hide from some guards near a catapult. He just so happened to hide near the launch lever. And one of the guards, foolishly, got up on the catapult so he could moon the camp they were setting up to aim, maybe even take a dump to send to them in the morning. The scout promptly launched him, killed the other guard, and set the catapults on fire to cover his escape. The launched guard hit the king's tent, waking him up and prompting a strike force, which showed up in time to save the party.
Okay so the party scout was scouting out an enemy cap, and had to hide from some guards near a catapult. He just so happened to hide near the launch lever. And one of the guards, foolishly, got up on the catapult so he could moon the camp they were setting up to aim, maybe even take a dump to send to them in the morning. The scout promptly launched him, killed the other guard, and set the catapults on fire to cover his escape. The launched guard hit the king's tent, waking him up and prompting a strike force, which showed up in time to save the party.
Heh. Reminds me of an old Spelljammer campaign I ran a long time back.
I was running it like Star Trek. You'd be surprised how well the silly SJ game races fit the Star Trek model. Anyway the PC's are trying to create the Federation by allying the local game worlds together. Along the way, they loot an enemy ship, and I'm rolling totally random from the loot table for laughs.
One of the items they find is a "chest of holding," which is a larger SJ version of the bag of holding, roughly the size of a large room. I roll one item inside the chest, and then roll again totally random.
I get a +2 heavy ballista.
I blink, giggle, and then just run with it. The PC's open up the chest, and find themselves staring at the business end of a loaded +2 heavy ballista. They reason that the weapon was conceived as a way to put a heavy siege weapon on a spelljamming ship which might not normally be allowed to have such a heavy weapon mount on it. They use it for the same purpose, giving their tiny merchant trawler a *significantly* heavier punch than it should have had.
"Oh no", the best phrase when someone adds 2 and 2 and gets 6.
More than they expected. ;)
And the panel clearly shows 3 of them.
You give some good ideas.
Catapult stories.
In a very silly Pathfinder campaign there was once a superstitious Gnome Titan Mauler Barbarian. He and his friends went on many adventures and fought many undead and Kaorti, and good times were had by all.
However, it was on one adventure the rogue had gotten grabbed by a young adult skeletal dragon while in the courtyard of a small castle. As the dragon started to fly off, I asked the GM if there was a barista on the walls.
There is, he says. Why?
Well, long story short, the gnome was fired at the dragon via barista, the dragon was turned to a pile of bones and there's now a gnome-sized dent in the castle tower... right under the window.
"YAH-HOO-WHEEEEeeeeee......!"
"YAH-HOO-WHEEEEeeeeee......!"
This one campaign I was in started with testing a gatling ballista. Enchanted to create its own ammo, gearwork to self-reload and fire when cranked (thus the need for gatling), mounted on a turret on the tallest tower in a city. It was basically a lawn sprinkler of doom with a 9 mile radius, far enough to reach the outlying towns, able to take down one mook per turn as they charged across the open fields between town and city. The idea was to reduce any invading army to its few named badasses by the time they reached the city walls, whereupon single-target anti-badass defenses would take over.
In practice it was mostly used for deliveries (such as fertilizer to farms, or precious metals and other such cargoes to a fleet traveling up the local river demanding tribute: when several multi-ton slugs of silver impacted the riverbank nearby at high velocity, they took the slugs and exercised the better part of valor), but eventually (years later IRL, toward the end of the campaign) the city was invaded, and it worked.
The first shot fired from the ballista was recovered, and turned into a stone elemental who became a minor recurring NPC. The foundations of the ballista became the city governor's office and local printing press/copy shop, and grew into a network of city services.
"You're going to backstab him... with a F***ing SIEGE weapon??"
I was running it like Star Trek. You'd be surprised how well the silly SJ game races fit the Star Trek model. Anyway the PC's are trying to create the Federation by allying the local game worlds together. Along the way, they loot an enemy ship, and I'm rolling totally random from the loot table for laughs.
One of the items they find is a "chest of holding," which is a larger SJ version of the bag of holding, roughly the size of a large room. I roll one item inside the chest, and then roll again totally random.
I get a +2 heavy ballista.
I blink, giggle, and then just run with it. The PC's open up the chest, and find themselves staring at the business end of a loaded +2 heavy ballista. They reason that the weapon was conceived as a way to put a heavy siege weapon on a spelljamming ship which might not normally be allowed to have such a heavy weapon mount on it. They use it for the same purpose, giving their tiny merchant trawler a *significantly* heavier punch than it should have had.