Welcome to the “Blood Lords” category of our blog, a vivid chronicle of our Pathfinder 2nd Edition campaign that unfolds like an epic tale. Here, we navigate through treacherous terrains, face formidable foes, and celebrate triumphant victories of our player characters in a world teeming with danger, intrigue, and endless possibilities.
Each post under this category is a saga of our player characters’ exploits – from their strategic maneuvers in nail-biting battles to their ingenious problem-solving skills in the face of adversity. This space encapsulates it all, painting a vivid image of their journey.
However, a word of caution: these tales are brimming with spoilers that could reveal key plot twists and character arcs. If you’re part of our campaign or prefer to enjoy the thrill of discovery at your own pace, we advise you to tread lightly.
As for the plot of the Blood Lords game by Paizo, it’s a thrilling narrative of power, betrayal, and redemption. Our heroes find themselves in a world where the lines between friend and foe are blurred, and every decision could tip the scales of fate. Their journey is one of survival against the odds, of alliances forged in the crucible of battle, and ultimately, of a quest for glory that could change the course of history.
Whether you’re a seasoned Pathfinder, a newcomer to the realm of tabletop RPGs, or simply a fan of gripping narratives, the “Blood Lords” category offers a deep dive into our shared universe of fantasy and camaraderie. So, sit back, immerse yourself in our tales, and join us as we chart the course of the Blood Lords’ saga.
About Blood Lords
View the Blood Lords adventure path here. Visit this link to download the Blood Lords players guide. Support our site and get your copy of Blood Lords here!
The Party
The party may change from time to time, but I will try to keep up with them here as the story progresses. The party was built with the standard loot rules as presented by Paizo and found on the Archives of Nethys website. We were allowed to use Free Archetype alternate rules. I may or may not be posting my PCs builds, but if I do you will find them in the Pathfinder 2e Character Builds Section.
Currently, the party is level 8 and consists of:
Glott the Large, Goblin Rogue
Feast of Marrow, Skeleton Cleric of Urgathoa
Peter Haymark, Half-Elf Summoner and Annabel his Eidolon
Sangrie Delacroix, Dhampir Sorceress
Ragnok Nightclaw, Orc/Wereworg Fighter
Some of the party may have detailed backstories and some may not. It will depend on the level of detail that the players who play these characters provide for me to elaborate on. At the very least I will try to give you a physical description of the characters and some of what I am learning about them as we travel together. Of course as we continue to play sessions the PC’s will all grow, so be sure to follow along! Without further ado.
Glott the Large
In the vibrant mosaic of adventurers, a figure of diminutive size yet vibrant spirit stands out – Glott the Large. His moniker, an amusing contradiction to his stature, paints an image of grandeur that he does not physically possess. A goblin by birth, Glott’s skin is a tapestry of verdant hues, a testament to his rich lineage.
His build, sturdy like the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, belies his nimble agility. Like a summer breeze, he flits across the battlefield, his movements as swift and unpredictable as a hummingbird in flight. His mind, sharp as a razor’s edge, is always racing, strategizing, calculating. But it is his sword arm that truly distinguishes him – as quick as a striking viper, it’s a deadly extension of his agile spirit.
Dispatched by the Bloodord Berline Haldoli, Glott serves as a pillar of support for his group. His role, though not often in the limelight, is as crucial as the keystone in an arch. Whether it’s darting through the chaos of battle to aid a fallen comrade or lightening the tension with his mischievous pranks, Glott is ever-present, ever-reliable.
Though he may not tower over his companions in height, Glott’s presence is colossal. His verdant skin and compact build make him an unforgettable sight, while his swift intellect and lightning-fast swordplay command respect. But beyond his physical prowess and combat skills, it’s his indefatigable spirit, his unwavering loyalty, and his infectious zest for life that truly make Glott ‘the Large’. With him in their ranks, the party finds themselves not just stronger, but richer for his company.
Feast of Marrow
In the shadowy folds of an uncanny existence, where the veil between life and death is but a flimsy shroud, there shambles a figure of paradoxical grace. Feast of Marrow, or simply Feast, as he is often referred to, is an imposing skeleton that harks back to a formidable past. His robust bone structure whispers tales of a once muscular human or perhaps an Orc, now swathed in the chilling elegance of undeath.
Feast’s voice, as cold and hollow as a crypt, resounds with an unexpected harmony of wisdom and sophistication. His words, laced with macabre wit, dance on the precipice of mortality, never outright aggressive towards the living, or “the quick” as he refers to them, yet always echoing his preference for the undead.
Clad in robes of muted, grayish tints, Feast presents an eerie spectacle. The robes hang loosely over his skeletal frame, their somber hues accentuating the stark whiteness of his bones. Around his neck, he wears the holy symbol of his deity, Urgathoa, with a pride that borders on defiance. It’s not uncommon to find him engaged in quiet proselytization, his chilling charm wielded as deftly as any weapon.
Feast’s role within the party is as complex as his existence. His skeletal hands, unyielding yet precise, weave spells of healing and restoration, providing succor to his companions in the heat of battle. Yet, he is far from a mere support. His knack for softening up foes is legendary, his spells sowing discord among enemy ranks while his spiritual weapon, a spectral echo of his goddess’s own scythe, reaps through them with grim efficiency.
A paradox in every sense, Feast of Marrow is a constant reminder of the fragile line between life and death, embodying the very essence of the uncanny world he navigates with such chilling grace.
Peter Haymark
In the realm where reality dances with the arcane, a peculiar figure named Peter Haymark etches his presence. A half-elf of slender build and an intense aura, Peter is a living paradox. His hair, a disarray of dark curls, frames a face marked by the deep shadows of endless nights spent in pursuit of knowledge and power. His jawline, soft and often obscured by his posture, lends him a sense of vulnerability that belies his true strength.
Peter’s body, lean and seemingly fragile, is deceptive. Despite looking perpetually under the weather, as if a cold has taken residence within him, there’s a restless energy about him. His eyes dart around, constantly scanning his surroundings for unseen threats. His fingers twitch, fidgeting with an invisible object only he can perceive. Every now and then, he would break into sudden outbursts, as if engaged in a spirited debate with an invisible companion.
And indeed, he is never entirely alone. Accompanying him is the formidable Annabel, a specter born from the depths of the occult. Emerging from a swirling mist of crimson, her massive form lurks beneath a dark mourning shawl. Her visage remains hidden, replaced by an ominous void that sends chills down the spines of those who dare to look. The only discernible feature she possesses is a gnarled appendage, eerily similar to a bird’s talon rather than a human hand. She hovers above the earth, her semi-corporeal form defying the laws of nature.
But there’s more to Peter than meets the eye. His keen interest in architecture and crafting reveals a mind that relishes complexity. His creations, whether a finely carved figurine or a meticulously designed structure, bear the mark of a consummate artist. Each piece, a testament to his exceptional skill and passion.
In the grand tapestry of magic and chaos, Peter Haymark is a riveting presence. A summoner with a spectral ally, a craftsman with an eye for detail, he embodies the resilience and adaptability of his half-elf lineage. He may not be the most robust or the most handsome, but he is indubitably one of the most captivating individuals you’d ever encounter.
Sangrie Delacroix
In the twilight where life and death intertwine, a figure of haunting beauty and formidable power walks the blurred line. Sangrie Delacroix, a human-Dhampir, is the exceptional product of an unlikely love between a centuries-old vampire and a mortal woman. Her allure is a tantalizing blend of her mother’s radiant beauty and her father’s dark charm, a captivating sight that draws both admiration and fear.
Cloaked in shadows that echo her enigmatic heritage, Sangrie’s attire speaks volumes of her bold personality. A high-collared black cloak drapes over her like a mystery waiting to be unveiled, partially concealing the provocative ensemble beneath. A corset, as dark as midnight and as tight as a secret, pushes her bosom into prominence, accentuating the dangerous curves of her body.
Among her companions, she is known as “The Ghoul Queen,” a title earned through her chilling ability to summon the undead. In battle, she is a tempest of dark magic, weaving spells that ensnare enemies in a maelstrom of chaos and despair. Her ghouls, grotesque yet obedient, rise at her bidding, their gnarled claws a stark reminder of the day her world was shattered.
Yet, Sangrie’s talents extend beyond the battlefield. She is a diplomat, navigating through social intricacies with the finesse of a seasoned stateswoman. Her voice, a dulcet melody carrying the weight of her tragic past, often leads the negotiations, charming allies and disarming foes alike.
The love story that birthed Sangrie was brutally cut short. The violent end of her parents awakened in her a power she had never known, giving birth to the first of her summoned ghouls. But the cleric who led the attack escaped, leaving Sangrie with a legacy of loss and vengeance.
Now, Sangrie is on a journey of self-discovery and revenge. She has turned her tragic past into a wellspring of power, embracing her unique heritage and the grim dance between life and death she was born into. Sangrie Delacroix is no mere Dhampir sorceress; she is a beacon of resilience, a symbol of beauty in a world often shadowed by darkness.
Ragnok Nightclaw
In the tapestry of adventurers, Ragnok Nightclaw stands as a formidable presence. His towering frame, a testament to his pure orcish heritage, is marked with the scars of countless battles, each a chapter in his saga of survival and strength. His eyes, as fierce as they are wise, carry within them the echoes of a prophecy fulfilled and a destiny that’s just beginning to unfold.
Ragnok’s tale is one of courage and tenacity, marked by a sacred hunt that transformed him from a mere orc into something far more potent. His victory over the monstrous Worg is more than just a testament to his warrior spirit; it is a rite of passage that bestowed upon him the spectral essence of the beast. The Worg’s strength now courses through his veins, enhancing his already formidable orcish might.
But there’s another presence within Ragnok, a mysterious entity that is as ancient as time itself. This symbiote, as Ragnok has come to understand it, is a source of power and vengeance, whispering promises of greatness in his dreams. It is not a malevolent force but a partner, an ally that seeks to guide Ragnok towards a destiny that’s yet to be revealed.
In his dreams, Ragnok is a force of nature, an unstoppable storm of rage and vengeance. Tendrils emerge from his body, their grip as cold and unyielding as death itself. They are an extension of his will, a manifestation of the symbiote’s power that can ensnare and crush his foes. Each victory brings a strange sense of satisfaction, a fulfillment that stirs both dread and exhilaration within him.
Ragnok Nightclaw is no ordinary orc. He is a vessel for the symbiote’s wrath, a warrior marked by the blessing of a Worg, a testament to the power of survival. His presence is commanding, his spirit unyielding. He walks a path shrouded in mystery, guided by the whispers of an ancient entity and the strength of a Worg. Yet, despite the unknowns that lie ahead, Ragnok strides forward without fear. For he knows that together with the symbiote, they are destined for greatness.
