According to the rules for a swarm, the energy damage of the weapons is dealt fully, meaning that it isn't halved the way the actual weapon damage is. For instance, a +2 Flaming Longsword (normal damage 1d8+2 Slashing+1d6 Fire) would deal 1d8+2 divided by two, or 1d4+1 Slashing damage, +1d6 Fire damage. The Fire damage isn't halved. Also, remember to add your Strength bonus before dividing the damage. If you want help, you can always PM me.

Dante, we need a GM, so please try not to get yourself banned for flaming, alright? We all make mistakes regarding the rules, even you. He's relatively new to the game, and you're talking to him as though he wasn't.

Secretskull, when the text says "full damage", it usually means the damage it would usually deal. For instance, if you fail a Reflex saving throw against a Fireball spell, you take full damage, which is 10d6 (assuming a tenth-level or higher caster). Maximized damage, which automatically gives you the highest possible roll on the damage dice, would be failing a saving throw against a Maximized Fireball, which would deal 60 damage.

Pyros: About flurry of blows, it is unlimited, yes, but it reduces all of your attacks by 2 in exchange for the extra attack. This means it's +5/+5/+0, rather than +7/+7/+2.

Edited this onto the bottom of my own post, but here also.

Actually Pheonix

This is refering to the flurry of blows penalty.

Right. Then so it is, only with unarmed attacks. *Shrug* I don't play monks.

Err...I have a sad, sad confession to make. I have done something shameful beyond almost all redemption, something utterly, head-slappingly stupid.

I forgot the specifics of a Light spell, and cast it as an orb of light, instead of upon an object. Though my posts have been edited to demonstrate the correct means of casting the spell, my honor and reputation is tarnished.

If seppuku is the only means of redeeming myself, than I shall do it. What say you, friends?

Dante's probably just short tempered because he's had to hold my hand through similiar stupid-ass mistakes, being as that this is the first D&D character I've made since 1992. And even then, it was just one, and I made mistakes in that.

Seriously, though, Secret, don't take anything like that which Dante says too seriously. He's just PMSing.

And Dante, please don't do that. You know I'd really hate to have to do anything to you over it, but even if I don't Rai will if blatant flaming continues. Unless it's DB. We all hate DB, anyway.

Repost:

And here comes the assassin skill monkey.

Bio: Even in the perfect and beautiful world brought about by the newest, benevolent, dictatorship of the church, some children still manage to fall through the cracks. Derek was one such child.

He had the misfortune of growing up on one of the settlements near the edge of the church's power, beyond which some 'evil' still lurked. Evil such as the odd band of orcs or bandits. Or, in this case, orcish bandits. His city was razed to the ground, the men slaughtered, the women raped and slaughtered--not necessarily in that order, and the children eaten and slaughtered--again, not necessarily in that order. Derek was 10, and he had the unpleasant joy of watching his mother and sister being raped, and then eaten alive. Most people don't come out of such an experience normally, and neither did Derek. He snapped inside. All those wonderful emotions known as love and kindness and mercy were slowly eaten away and destroyed as he realized the real, and cruel, nature of the world.

The church's dictates were wrong. The strong did not protect the weak. Not naturally, anyway. They took what they wanted from the weak. They killed the weak. They raped the weak, and sometimes the church just couldn't stop them. At least not in time.

And Derek understood that this time the church wouldn't arrive in time, as the orcish bastards had already begun to sniff out his scent. He'd die in that closet if he were lucky. If not, he'd die after being half-eaten by an orc.

His fingers trembled as he slunk backwards in the closet, further into the corner, knowing that it would make no difference, yet his body demanded it. It demanded he huddle as far back as he could, until he felt the sharp pressure of the blade of a knife.

It was his father's. The blade his father used to hunt and clean his catches with.

Derek's hand closed against the hilt and he closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for the death he knew would come regardless of what he did. However, he decided in that moment he would no longer be weak, and only the weak would die without a fight.

The door opened and the lurid beast stuck its snout in Derek's face, its bestial maw wrapped upward in a toothy grin as it grunted something which probably meant 'dessert' in its native tongue.

Derek didn't care what it grunted, though. He didn't care that it was grinning in excitement over eating him. The only thing he cared about was the blade of his knife entering through its eye socket and into its brain. The stupid beast hadn't noticed the knife. Hadn't expected the boy to be prepared to attack, and neither had its friends. They didn't even notice Derek had killed it at first.

And those few seconds were all it took for Derek to scramble around the beast and run through his door. A few minutes later and he was in the woods, running and running from the remains of his village.

It seemed like he had run forever when he fell upon well travelled merchant's path, completely exhausted and slowly slipping out of consciousness.

When he awoke, he was in a hovel of an orphanage, in a relatively large city near where his village had once lain. Had he not seen what he had seen or done what he had done, he may have been happy there., but his mind was broken. He cared only for himself, because he was strong and they were weak. The other children who were able to hurt him, he merely left to their own devices, unless they attempted to protect the weak. Then he would slink off and figure out a way to hurt the child who protected the weaker children.

It wasn't long until he was expelled onto the street, where he learned how to survive through theft, pan-handling, and minor street shows as well as a concrete grasp of utilitarianism.

He learned something else however--there were more people who fell through the cracks of this perfect society. There were people that others hated. They hated so much that they wanted them dead. They were even willing to pay for it. The weak wishing to do away with the strong.

It was of no consequence to Derek, however. He was stronger than the ones the weak feared, and he only cared for his own gain. Banding with the strong or showing derision to the weak were pointless endeavours to him, which only lessened one's own utility. By killing for the weak, he gained money, fortune, and even a slight degree of infamy. His life became considerably easier, and all it cost him was the blood of others.

Yay! Welcome aboard, Krylo.

Anyway, Pyros and Secretskull, I rolled your results, and edited them in at the bottom of page 2. From now on though, you guys should roll your own dice unless we tell you otherwise. Poor Severin is in quite a bit of trouble, what with that rerollable concealment check the rats get against him.

Ah god a lvl 10 character getting masacred by a bunch of rats? What is the CR level or is it just a ton of normal rats, cause if so.......

Hmm, maybe its Severin that Kria is creeping up on so she can watch him d...er, help him out...

Rat swarms are CR2. You simply are in a very, very anti-good position, as you've jumped into a sewer, and sealed the exit, meaning you can't see, in addition to being murky eyed, while being swarmed by rats. Tsk...

Eh, Ask Dante Elysian. I think these encounters are supposed to be solo, but don't worry, Pyros could always try to climb out of the sewer... Although I'm not sure what a climb DC in the dark while being swarmed by rats would be. I assume it'd be rather difficult. Additionally, any "slowly walking towards him" would take several rounds, anyway.