Happy New Fear, errr, Year!

Grrr Arrrgg.  Brains!  Happy New Year from all the staff of The Flying Pincushion!  Grrarr!

Merry Tentaclemas!

Dashing through the void, in a one multi-mouthed horror sleigh...

Krampus Bless Us, Everyone!

Don't forget kids, Krampus knows what you did this year, and he checks social media, you have been warned!

Questions about Class: the NPC classes

Welcome back readers! It is nearly Christmas, yet there is no snow here in the NE United States. But there are presents, a new Questions about Class for you to unwrap, this time focusing on the NPC classes. As you may (or may not) know, Flying Pincushion Games is about to release its next book, Into the Breach: the Forgotten Classes.  So we thought it was a good time that I, Jeff Harris, sit down with fellow Pincushioneer David McCrae to talk about the NPC classes.

JH: First of all, I would like to thank you for taking the time to sit down and answer my questions!

DM: It’s no problem at all. I’m very enthusiastic about being involved here at Flying Pincushion. I kind of want to get my hands into everything.

JH: Can you give the readers a little about yourself and your role at The Flying Pincushion?

DM: Well, I’m kind of upstart here thus far. And even though I didn’t get here early enough to get my hands into ItB: The Forgotten Classes, I’ve had a blast coming up with content for upcoming Into the Breach books! I’m just your average-joe gamer with a mind stuffed full of ideas that are begging to be released to the masses.

JH: So what exactly is the point of the NPC classes as you see it, are they just background and filler, or is there untapped potential in them?

DM: It’s funny that you ask, because I’m actually designing a “Young character” campaign. And per the rules concerning young characters in Pathfinder RPG: Ultimate Campaign, young characters MUST be NPC classes. So in a way, I was already tapping into the hidden potential of NPC classes. As the author of two novels, I can say with confidence that every character in important. PC or NPC, they wouldn’t be in there if it were not relevant.

JH: Why do you think that the NPC classes are so rarely used by players, and have you ever used one or more of the NPC classes as a player yourself?

DM: NPC classes just don’t have the power that PC classes have. With little to no class abilities, and low choice of weapon proficiencies, only 1 spellcasting class with a very limited spell list, and, well…the commoner, it’s no surprise they are just simply unappealing to the players that want to fireball stuff or roll as many damage dice as possible.

JH: Could you see the NPC classes being used in “low magic” and/or “gritty” campaigns as the default class options for players instead of the Core and Base classes?  And if so, how well do you think the NPC classes would fare?

DM: I’ll shuffle back to my previous statement about the “Young Character” campaign. It starts off gritty and low-magic as you say. But there are bountiful opportunities to challenge and surprise your PCs. I grin just picturing my PCs having to get by on their skills alone; having to start from nothing and build themselves through true experience into hero-dom.

The most important thing to remember as the GM for such a campaign is to give the players JUST enough challenge to keep them engaged. Make sure not to coddle your PCs just because they can’t rage or deal sneak attack damage. Also, make use of those innocuous little Beastiary entries known as animals. Skunks, porcupines, and other woodland creatures could be just as challenging to NPC classes as most CR 2 or 3 monsters would be to low-level PC classes.

I’m still working out the story kinks, of course. But an NPC class campaign is totally possible, and it could be a new and wonderful experience for your players.

JH: As we all know, the NPC classes have very little (often nothing) in the way of special class features.  Do you think this lack of unique abilities allows the other (PC) classes to better shine, or does it just render the NPC classes unable to challenge PC’s as foes the GM can draw upon?

DM: Although NPC classes lack unique abilities, I believe a party of NPC class characters can shine if the players themselves know what they are doing. With enough study into the rules of skills and combat, four 1st level NPC class characters can easily overtake one or even two 2nd level PC class characters. Things like Aid Another actions, Combat Maneuvers, Total Defense, Alchemical splash weapons, and clever use of feats (ESPECIALLY Teamwork feats) can make for an extremely effective team of NPC class characters. The most important thing is for the PCs to work together even moreso than they would if they were using PC classes.

JH: The adept, she has wizard and cleric abilities and spell casting mixed, is this a good thing, does it make sense to you?

DM:  It does. The adept, as I envision her, is feeling out what kind of spellcaster she wants to be. In order to do this, she needs to study and delve into arcane and divine arts to see what works for her.

JH: The expert, at least on the surface seems, despite a lack of special class features, to be extremely flexible because you may choose your class skills.  Do you think this is a good idea, would choosing class skills if other classes could do so, be a good thing as well?

DM: For PC classes, no. Being able to choose your class skills as a PC class could allow far too many of those classes to go bananas. For the Expert, however, his ability to choose his class skills is, in essence, his “class ability”. A clever player can choose 10 class skills that are NOT on the class skill list for the PC class he would want to play later, and keep his level in Expert when he DOES take that class. This way, he’s playing his PC class with 10 extra class skills.

JH: Warriors, are they even viable as a combat class in your opinion?  Given the many hot button discussions about the power level of the fighter, is the warrior just a somewhat sadder fighter without bonus feats, doomed to cannon fodder status and gate guard duty?

DM: That is completely up to the player controlling the warrior. Does the player want to focus more on what the class has as opposed to what it doesn’t have? Seriously, for an NPC class, a d10 hit die, full BAB, and full weapon and armor proficiencies is a combination that’s nothing to sneeze at. True, it’s a little lackluster without the bonus feats or bravery, but teamwork (as I described earlier) will help win the day for warriors.

JH: The commoner, arguably mechanically at least, the absolute least powerful class in the game.  Does this seem fair to you?  Does scaling the common folk so far below even the other NPC classes make sense?

DM: I like to view the commoner just as advertised. A commoner doesn’t want to fight, delve into magic, steal, summon, or anything else like that. A commoner has work, family, and lifestyle that is comfortable to himself. They just want to be the hero of their own life and the people around them. The lure of riches and fame doesn’t have the same pull with the commoner, so the effort to achieve such extravagant success and prestige isn’t there.

JH: The Aristocrat, from a straight mechanical perspective, likely it is one of, if not the best, NPC class of the bunch.  Do you think their class features are balanced given the scope of abilities that the rest of the NPC classes gain, or are they the “special golden child” of the bunch?

DM: No doubt, the aristocrat stands out. Its wide array of class skills and full weapon and armor proficiencies make it an NPC class that a GM would want to take seriously. In planning the young character campaign, I’ve had all of my players at least once state they would want to be an aristocrat. And even though it’s not as effective in combat from an attack and damage perspective, there are certainly ways for creative team players to make her work once initiatives are rolled.

JH: If you had complete freedom to change the NPC classes, would you, and what are a few of the major changes you would make?

DM: As written, the NPC classes are fair and appropriate to their namesakes. Maybe I would swap out two of the aristocrat’s class skills for Acrobatics. For the commoner, 1 Knowledge skill of the player’s choice. Simple little changes, but nothing crazy-drastic.

JH: What is, if there is one, the new NPC class that you would add to the current list, and do you think there will ever be changes to the NPC class list in the future?

DM: I was thinking of making shopkeeper an actual NPC class. ¾ BAB, good Reflex save, Skill Focus in Craft or Profession of the player’s choice as a bonus feat. Proficient with the tools he uses in the shop as improvised weapons. Obvious class skills like Appraise, Perception, Bluff, Sense Motive. I’d love to see it done, and I think it would add some flavor to shops and towns.

JH: What are the three main points you would make if you were trying to convince a player at your table to try playing an NPC class for the first time in a home game, and would you adjust your GMing/play style to accommodate that player and their less powerful character if they agreed to take that plunge?

DM: Simply listed:

1.       It’s new!

2.       It will challenge your skills as a player.

3.       It will be relevant to the plot of the campaign.

The reason for #3, it would be no different than saying, “My campaign is humans only!” or “All venerable characters”. But the reason you would do this as a GM (I’m hoping) would be because those stipulations are relevant to the story you want to tell.

Sorry to keep drawing on my campaign as an example, but it’s relevant for my player PCs to have their 1st level in commoner, and their 2nd level in any other NPC class they wish. Couple this with the ability score penalties the young characters suffer, and you pretty much have a whole new gaming experience. All of my players love the idea, and they can’t wait to actually get started.

Also, yes, I do have to adjust my GMing. This campaign has taken a lot of planning. Designing encounters with CR ½ and ¼ woodland creatures; puzzles and interactions that will require teamwork and skills to overcome. It has been a great time creating out-of-the-norm scenarios for my players. I suggest to all the GMs out there, if you want to do this, scale your hard-mode back a bit. You’re out to create a whole new experience for your players. Give them time to learn this new ground. You should carefully adjust to your players instead of the other way around, just this once.

JH: Finally, I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to have this chat, David!

DM: Any time! And I look forward to creating more fun for the players!

Behind Every Cover, there is a Story

The following short story was written by our own resident cover artist, Anthony Butler, whose fine art graces the cover of all of our Into the Breach series books.  The piece above is the Inquisitor cover, and its featured character is Reigbar, a tiefling inquisitor.  I hope everyone enjoys this fine bit of fiction, as IMO it is every bit as awesome as the art that inspired it.  A huge thanks to Anthony for simply being "the man with the plan."

Jeff Harris

Flying Pincushion Co-owner

Carnival

Carnival time in the city of masks, they’d told him, that was when one sought secrets.

When the people donned masks to hide their faces, and the wine flowed freely and the music filled the streets, cautious folk grew prone to sharing, and loose lips spilled truth, inasmuch as they knew it. What people thought they knew, that was more valuable than what they actually knew. Stories started somewhere, after all. It was just a matter of following each vein back to the source of the corruption that had tainted it.

Someone in this city had chafed under the high temple’s rule, and was now spreading heresy and lies in the guise of the good works of Sarenrae. Riegbar’s sacred duty was to hunt them down, to purify the corrupted words that he’d heard so many of the clergy spreading from their pulpits. The common folk were weak, and the sermons seductive, corrupting the sacred songs, twisting a word here, a phrase there. Wickedness and sin, invited in, because someone had made them welcome. He’d see the clergy burn, if needs must. Infection must be burnt to prevent it from spreading and returning.

But before the corruption could be cleansed, Riegbar needed answers, needed stories, names and tales of deeds. The carnival was in full swing now, the red moon high and large in the sky, every the street flooded with song and revelry and torchlight, crowds brightly-costumed in jewel-toned silks and elaborate masks, when they could afford them, though more often the silks were cheaply dyed cotton and the masks simple papier-mache. He’d settled for somewhere in between with his disguise, trading in the tattered burlap pilgrim’s cloak for black cotton printed with gold, a popular choice as the black dye was less likely to betray its poor quality. The masks were decent ones, but the selling point had been the large, elaborate ram’s horns, under which he could conceal his own.

Suitably masked and cloaked, with two additional masks hidden under his cape should he need a disguise, Riebgar slipped down from the tiny room he’d rented and threaded his way into the crowd, another mask in a sea of frozen faces.

* * *

Two hours later, and Riegbar had yet to find a satisfactory clue. Either the wine wasn’t flowing as freely as he’d have thought, or else everyone in the crowd was far better at holding their liquor and their counsel than he’d prefer. He’d already had to change his mask once, when one masked woman became just a touch too curious about his purpose; he recognized her voice and build from a sermon, she was one of the clergy. Certainly, someone had followed him through a few streets, though he’d lost his pursuant. There was no sense in pursuing that lead, she’d have grown suspicious now, perhaps even have alerted a few others. Riegbar cursed himself, dragging one claw across his palm as a chastisement for his foolishness. If he’d been more careful, perhaps. Plied her with more wine first. But he’d been desperate, after a fruitless search, and grown hasty.

Surely, someone knew. He whispered prayers now, begging for some divine intervention, something to guide him, to direct his search so that he might do the work needed to purify the flock.

Overhead, a hawk cried out. Its call was unusually melodious.

Around him, the crowd shifted; once joyous and unrestrained, singing bawdy songs and laughing, now, there were whispers.

Riegbar inserted himself into a nearby cluster to eavesdrop; one speaker, a half-orc by her build, he guessed, speaking in the strange accent of the city, was trying to persuade her companion not to visit...a fortuneteller?

“It’s not worth it,” the half-orc hissed, clutching her companion’s wrist tightly, her greyish hand dwarfing the dainty wrist; elven blood, perhaps, the movements were correct.

“But they say that la strega buona knows everything,”

“And that she exacts a dear price for her knowledge, Christina! Ezio isn’t worth it, he’s vile!” The half-orc grew angrier. “I shan’t follow you! If you intend to go into that alley, you go alone! ” she insisted, stamping her foot down. “It is madness!”

“I don’t care! I must know!” Wrenching her wrist from the half-orc’s grip, the elf took off into the crowd, her pastel cloak vibrant against the richer tones favoured by the others.

“Stupida!” The half-orc wailed, throwing up her hands. “She’ll regret this!” She kept looking over to her companion, wavering in her vow not to follow.

“Beg pardon,” Riegbar saw his chance now, and swooped in. “I couldn’t help overhear, perhaps I could retrieve your friend for you?”

He’d follow the elf to the fortuneteller and convince her to turn back, and then interrogate this woman. The bluster of prices and ominous threats was just a selling tool, advertising to enhance her mystique. Riegbar had encountered this type before, common rogues with an ear for gossip and a flair for the dramatic. He’d have her information by the end of the night, and perhaps this would be the answer to his prayers.

With the half-orc lady’s babbled blessings still ringing in his ears, Riegbar set out in pursuit, putting on a valiant show of struggling against the crowd for her sakes, at least until he was out of sight. The elf, it seemed, faced even more of a challenge than he did, for Riegbar was soon within a few paces of her. From here, he could see her ears; too long and fine to be a half-elf, pureblooded, then. Surprising that she’d had the strength to break the half-orc woman’s grip, but then perhaps the half-orc had not wished to hurt her, and so had held back.

Quite suddenly, someone bumped into Riegbar, spinning him about and knocking him to the ground. He fought to pull himself back to his feet, ignoring the protests of his assailant, who quickly faded into the masses. There, he saw a hand, gloved in silk beautifully embroidered with a pattern of figs, reaching out to offer him aid, which he gladly accepted. His rescuer spoke to him, but he ignored it; over her shoulder, through the figs branches which adorned her mask, Riegbar could see the elf he sought. With mumbled thanks to the woman, he pushed past her, diving into the crowd again. She’d worn an almost absurd amount of perfume, he could smell it even though the mask covered his face, rosemary blended with something cooler, sweeter, like the salve used to tend to burns. It invaded his nostrils, though not the scent was not unwelcome; certainly, it was preferable to sour wine and too many bodies packed together under stifling cloaks.

The elf had turned, down a side street so small that had she not been wearing such a brightly coloured cloak, Riegbar would have never seen her. Riegbar did the shoving now, desperate not to lose her in the alleyway, ducking underneath a lazy fist swung at him by a man wearing a wolf’s mask and a scarlet cloak, until he reached the archway.

The elf was gone.

Riegbar began to run down the alley, searching for some hint of her trace. There were no side streets, yet she’d vanished, as if by magic. As he turned a corner, he caught a glimpse of a pale pink cloak, and beyond it light; too dim to be torches, a lantern, perhaps. Maybe this was the fortuneteller he sought out, and perhaps the elf had just inexplicably decided to run to her.

Too late to send her back to her friend before she met the fortuneteller, it seemed, but maybe he could discourage her from speaking to the charlatan, dramatically rip off his mask to reveal his horns and fiery, slit-pupiled eyes, terrify her into fleeing --

“You are a determined one, aren’t you?”

The woman who spoke was not the elf; her voice, it was richer, deeper, and strangest of all, familiar. Riegbar had heard that voice, or one which sounded much like it. He’d found his way into some sort of cul-de-sac, lit by a dozen or so lanterns, their shades decorated with cut paper. Strange figures danced in the candlelight, reaching down to caress the circle of chairs, the silks draped over every surface. Someone had taken some care in transforming what should have been a filthy back alley into something else, luxurious and sinister. There were braziers too, taking the chill off of the cool night, filling the air with the scent of sage.

“I’d thought you’d lost my friend for a moment, back there,” The woman, the fortuneteller he sought, Riegbar supposed, reclined across a bench, draped in black velvet so deep and rich it put his own cloak to shame. She too wore a mask, a simple female face, painted in red and gold, and adorned with gold braid and a spray of crimson feathers. Her mask was porcelain, however, not the cheap papier-mache that Riegbar and most of the revellers wore.

She extended a hand to him; her skin was dark, and when Riegbar reluctantly took it, he found the skin to be soft, though her grip was firm. “Sadly, she doesn’t believe in mercy. If one is meant to find me, Christina believes, they will find their way to me.” Her eyes, a rich mahogany brown, twinkled from beneath the mask, and as Riegbar settled himself into a seat opposite her, he realized where he’d heard that voice before.

“You should be dead, you know,” Riegbar said. “Mind if I take this damned thing off?” he added, already reaching up to the mask.

Vanozza di Anima, who, by her sister’s accounts, had perished ten years past, reached out to stop him. “Not yet. For now, it is safer if your face is hidden,” she said, her voice soft, but in a tone which would accept no argument. “Consider it...the price of admission.”

“Is that why you wear that, then?”

Vanozza laughed. “No, caro ragazzo, I wear this because it would not do for the face of a woman who, as you said, should be dead, to be seen in this city. Especially on the night of the carnival, when passions run high.” She beckoned upwards; the same strangely musical cry rang out, and a hawk dove down, landing on the back of Vanozza’s divan. Like her, the bird wore a mask, though Riegbar could not see how it was attached.

“I don’t recall Miranda saying that her sister was a sorceress,” Riegbar said, which was broadly true, because while Miranda had told him her story, how she’d survived the attack on her family home and fled the city, she’d mentioned little else, save that her parents and her two sisters had perished. "Or alive."

“That is because we look after each other, in our own ways, and because I am not a sorceress, Inquisitor.” It was disconcerting, seeing Vanozza’s eyes smiling while the face of the mask remained frozen in its beatific half-smile.

“A wizard, then? Certainly no druidess, not somewhere so removed from nature.” That she knew who he was, that was alarming, he’d been cautious with his identity. Even the drunken priestess no doubt thought he was merely a spy.

Laughing, Vanozza shook her head as she reached out for the hawk’s porcelain beak with one finger, which the bird playfully nipped at before consenting to be stroked. “Ah, caro Inquisitor,” she said at last. “I am a witch. La strega buona, they have come to call me here, because that is what we do in this city. We call the unknown and terrible kind and good, in the hope that it might pass us over. La bella giustizia. Il mare tipo. La strega buona. I am feared, and yet, I am sought out. Love charms, cures, curses, all those things which, I imagine, you would see me burnt for?”

Riegbar had heard of witches. Certainly, he’d dealt with women who had been accused of such, simply for knowing a little of herbalism, or perhaps showing some trace of sorcerous skill. But never had he actually encountered one whose powers were sourced in whatever unknown entities that deigned to speak to them. “I could be convinced to...look away,” he said at last, through clenched teeth. “I seek a greater corruption.”

“And for that, you would partner with one who, according to your books and your priests, stands against all that you believe in, eh, Inquisitor?” Vanozza’s tone was cruel now. “A lesser evil, allied with for the greater good. I approve of your practicality. Especially as I would much rather not anyone try to set me aflame again. I might not be so lucky this time, you see.” She placed two cups, finely chased silver, though one was slightly marred on its side, on the table, before pouring tea into each one. The liquid was crimson, so dark as to be almost purple. She turned her head back for a moment, listening to a sound Riegbar knew he would never hear. “It is safe to remove our masks now, Inquisitor,” the witch said, at last. “After all, if we are to be allies, after all, we must know each other’s face.”

Gratefully, Riegbar undid the ties holding his goat mask in place; the heat from the braziers made the confines of the papier-mache stifling, and he took the chance to wipe the sweat from his face with the hem of his cloak. Only when he had set his mask down on the table, did Vanozza remove her mask; she was indeed Miranda’s twin, the same full lips and strong cheekbones, the same broad and shapely nose, though the left side of Vanozza’s face was marred by a faded burn scar. Unlike Mirand, who wore her dark hair braided back in tight, severe rows, Vanozza favoured a elaborate style of shining, ropy plaits, woven through with tiny charms that glistened as they caught the candlelight.

“A toast, then, caro Inquisitor.” Vanozza said. “And no, it isn’t poisoned. Test it for yourself. We are, after all, allies in this matter.”

Riegbar circled his finger over the cup, the sides already heated by the scalding liquid, though to his hand it merely felt pleasantly warm, a perk of his fiendish heritage. Neither the orison for the detection of poison or magic yielded any results, so, with a cautious whispered prayer, he took a sip. “Delicious,” Riegbar said, though he had no real basis against which to compare. It certainly tasted good, fruity and sweet, unlike any tea he’d had before, but whether this was an exemplary blend or not, he could care less.

Vanozza in turn sipped delicately from her own cup, a motion that Riegbar had once seen her sister do in exactly the same way. “Now, you have come here chasing the rumours which plague your temples here, have you not?”

“I have. How do you know?”

“An educated guess, caro Inquisitor. Merely an educated guess.” Vanozza took another sip, before setting her cup back down onto its plate. She had chosen the warped cup, he noticed. “As one who comes so infrequently in to the city, I too have seen what you have seen. What is preached from the pulpit changes a little in each telling, too subtle for the faithful to catch.”

“What do you mean, “comes infrequently”?” Riegbar asked; he had assumed that the witch was set up in, if not this alley, then certainly somewhere in the maze of streets and canals.

“It would be imprudent for me to stay here for too long. The di Anima family still has its enemies, even if most believe that family to be long gone.” Vanozza replied. “But also, it would not do for those who seek me to have an easy time of it. Adversity strengthens the soul, after all, one of the few things that we can agree on.”

“Then how am I to find you,” Riegbar asked, “When I have need of you again?”

The witch arched one dark brow. “What’s to say that you will have need of me again?”

Try as he might, Riegbar could not tell if the witch was mocking him, or if her question was sincere, but he’d learned more from someone who stood against everything that he believed in than he had from those who professed to be the most devout. He had to take a leap of faith, and trust that he’d found an unlikely ally in a city being turned to heresy.

Part of him argued that surely, the twin sister of a paladin whose faith even Riegbar could not bring himself to question could not truly be an enemy. But though this woman wore the face of his closest friend, she belonged to another force. Whatever offer she made, it was to serve her own agenda, and that of her otherworldly master. She and Riegbar would use each other, useful tools for a grim task, to be discarded when they were no longer helpful.

“I have need of someone who knows this city. And you have need of someone who knows the church.”

He’d just have to be sure that he survived being discarded.

Questions About Class: the Inquisitor

Welcome back readers! Here is another entry in our Questions about Class series, this time focusing on the inquisitor. As you may (or may not) know, Flying Pincushion Games is about to release its next book, Into the Breach: The Inquisitor.  So we thought it was a good time that I, Kiel Howell, sit down with fellow Pincushioneer Jeffery Harris to talk about the class.

KH: First of all, thank you for taking the time to sit down and answer these questions!

JH: My pleasure Kiel, thank you for taking the time to lay down some excellent questions about the inquisitor class!

KH: Can you give the readers a little about yourself and your role at The Flying Pincushion?

JH: Well sure, I am of course Jeff Harris, co-owner, CFO, sometimes editor and lead designer here at The Flying Pincushion.  I have been gaming for more than 24 years, but have only been in the industry officially for about two and a half years.  I am married to a lovely wife and live in a house with as many cats as there are core classes.

KH: So what exactly is an inquisitor? Is it someone who tortures folks for religious reasons (ala Torquemada and the Spanish Inquisition)?

JH: The Spanish Inquisition is likely the default, go to, idea that many folk have.  Thankfully the inquisitor in Pathfinder need not fall into this trope.  While they can be zealous religious fanatics, there is an infinite variety of ways to see the class.  From skilled detectives of the many goods, to vengeance sworn monster hunters.  With the right inspiration and  careful building/character design, inquisitors can be nearly anything the player can brain storm up a story for.

KH: Why does this stand as a whole class to you? Would it have been better as an archetype of the Paladin or perhaps a type of Cleric?  Personally I think the inquisitor stands up very well as a class of its own.  

JH: While a paladin could be a zealous hound of the faith, their paladin code would restrict them from accomplishing any dirty or nasty deeds that need doing.  Conversely clerics seem to (as a class) trade much of their ability to be a skilled character out for their powerful magic and domain powers.  That is not to say a cleric cannot be a skilled character, as a class it is simply not their main focus.  Thus the inquisitor seems to fall somewhere in between, with more divine power than a paladin in terms of spells, but less combat ability, and far more skill breadth than a cleric, but with less divine magic.  Overall the class seems to have a little bit of both paladin and cleric, merged with the practical mindset and broad skills set of rogues.

KH: What exactly are judgments and what are they supposed to represent?

JH: As far as I can tell, a judgment is meant to represent an inquisitor calling down divine justice (or vengeance) against their foes or providing divine reward to themselves or allies.  In general I suspect judgments are the physical manifestation of the inquisitors faith in his or her god, and the rewards for said service.

KH: Some of the abilities seem a little out of place, like Monster Lore and Slayer, what are your thoughts on the cohesiveness of the class?

JH:  To me this is an issue stemming from what fantasy settings commonly employ.  Because it is not just humans that populate the world, it makes perfect sense (in the context of say, Golarion) that inquisitors would have to deal with monsters and non-human foes as part of their gods church.  Slayer, while mechanically sound, perhaps suffers from a less than perfect name for the ability.  To recap the questions, I am fine with Monster Lore and Slayer, I see them as just extension of placing a real world influenced class into a fantasy setting, and its adaptation to that move.

KH: This class seems to suffer from lone wolf syndrome, in that there are abilities that allow the inquisitor to treat allies as if they possessed (without receiving the bonuses from) any teamwork feat she possesses, so she can effectively act alone. Does this work? Is it going against the flavor of the class?

JH:  The “lone wolf” issue is one that I also see as a bit of a problem.  From a theme perspective, the “lone heretic hunter” works nicely, but Pathfinder and table-top RPG’s in general are not solo games, and more than ever now in Pathfinder teamwork is a must.  So, from a game perspective, the thematic power of solo tactics is less than ideal.  It can be worked around, and worked with, but it does leave a bit of a bitter taste in the rest of the parties mouths when only Bob Lone Wolf the inquisitor benefits from his Teamwork feats and everyone else is just a placeholder.  That said, if the players decide to more heavily invest in Teamwork feats, the pain can be mitigated somewhat.

KH: The way the class itself reads, there isn’t much flexibility for what type of character you can play...

JH: I personally feel that while this is true, the build of a class does not prevent interesting and unique inquisitor characters.  I tend to feel that if the chassis is a bit limited, which here one could indeed say that, then it is HOW the inquisitor progresses, and how the player RP’s their character that will make them stand out.  The same issue could be said of a fighter, but there are many levels of detail available (nearly limitless really) beyond just what the inquisitor class ability table provides that can and does make inquisitor characters interesting and unique.  I feel behind every inquisitor is a great story of WHAT made them into what they are, and given the class focus and flavour, those stories can indeed be amazing.  I dare say that is just as valid, perhaps more, than flexibility that is built into the class design. The option of taking specific inquisitions can help support a detailed and interesting inquisitor, and provide more support for their detailed backstory and personality elements (more about that in a later question though.)

KH: The inquisitor gets spells from both the cleric list and the sorcerer/wizard list (such as true strike), yet they are obviously a divine inspired class. What’s the deal?

JH: I suspect this is another of those issues that comes from the mechanics aspect of the game rather than fluff or source material.  In order to provide a list of spells that fits with the class theme it would seem that both lists were scoured and then combined into the mongrel spell list the inquisitor uses.  As I do this often when working on archetypes and class design, I can’t really fault Paizo for doing so, and overall feel the spells are appropriate, even if in the back of my mind I know that they are not all divine in origin.

KH: Should the inquisitor be a d8 hitpoint class or should they be more of a d10?

JH: Given the scope of their class skills, spells, judgments, and other abilities, I feel a d10 would be going too far. Having a d8 for hit die suites me just fine, I might well think differently with d10’s, which also tends to come along with a full BAB class.  So nope, I think they (inquisitors) have the correct HD for what they are and for balance purposes.

KH: What would you change about the base class if you were given free reign?

JH: Solo tactics is my pet peeve, I would want more teamwork focus, rather than benefits for the inquisitor only.  Heretics are dangerous, one would think that friends would be a good thing in the battle against them.

KH: Have you ever had to ban or have you seen the class banned at a table?

JH: I have never banned the inquisitor, though I freely admit nearly none of my players tend to favour the inquisitor class.  I suspect that somewhere someone has banned it, but given that I do not see endless ban this class threads either on Paizo’s forums, or in PFS, I would think its banning is rare in general.

KH: What is your advice for building a successful inquisitor?

JH: While I could go through lots of game mechanics and discuss how to make a deadly awesome murder-hobo inquisitor, in my personal opinion, the best way to make a successful inquisitor is build something that is at least mechanically sound, then FOCUS very hard on roleplay and character motivation/personality.  Because this class has mechanics that to me scream, “there is a really good story behind why I can do this”, it deserves to have those aspects played up.  I dare say that it is the intangibles that make inquisitors memorable at the table.  I suggest picking an inquisition rather than a domain and then writing a hell of a story about the why your inquisitor has said inquisition.

KH: Thank you for taking the time to have this chat, Jeff!

JH: As always, it was my pleasure Kiel, it was a fine set of questions you wrote for this installment of “Questions About Class.”  I hope we have shed a bit of light on a class that is often in the shadows.