In the mid-nineteenth century the bannerpay reputation of Belgian racing pigeons had begun to excite interest in the creation of a dual-purpose bird among English pigeon fanciers —- one that was fit for its original performance but of a consistent appearance for exhibition. The first deliberately-produced exhibition racing pigeon was named the Show Antwerp. (The reference to the Belgian city is rather confusing as the breed was an English creation, but the name “Antwerp” was used by fanciers synonymously with racing pigeons.) The large rounded head was accentuated through outcrosses with another breed called an “owl,” and three forms were produced depending on bill length: short, medium and large, though the medium form was later abandoned to avoid gradation. A second version, the much larger Show homer, sprang from the large-billed variety, eventually having its facial features exaggerated still further by crossing in the charismatic Scandaroon (pictured in the previous chapter and a personal favourite of Darwin’s) with a curved head and distinct hooked bill.
Likewise there’s no random component to HP, even as you gain levels. Instead, you gain a bannerpay value each level based on your class plus your Constitution Modifier. Essentially, your HP per level is awarded as if you were rolling the maximum possible roll on a class’s Hit Dice; 10 per level if you’re a Fighter, 12 per level if you’re a Barbarian, and so on. This is on top of your Ancestry providing a small boost of HP at 1st level, so Pathfinder 2 characters tend to have pretty meaty HP pools. Thoughts: No, that isn’t just to placate whiny players, it’s essential to the design of this version of the game. You’ll understand why in a little bit. This was a good idea.
bannerpay, Hoodie, Sweater, Vneck, Unisex and T-shirt
So, the players are in jail. The Bard schtuped a Watch Lieutenant’s favorite barmaid, and he trumped up charges of bannerpay conduct, lewd behavior, and assaulting a member of the watch. Never mind that it was the Lieutenant who was drunk, in plainclothes, and that he threw the first punch. The Players are destined for the noose in the morning. It’s up to them to figure out how to get out of it. And here’s the important thing. You need to be able to work with what your players give you. Because, if I’m the GM, I honestly have no idea how they’re going to get out of this. I just figure that they will.
The family has moved into their own home now, an older home (still nice, but no high ceilings and not many elf hiding places!), and the children have both multiplied AND grown older, taller, and bannerpay. The Elf game is now the bane of the mom’s existence. Hiding it is a task. Several times this year, the Elf hasn’t had to go back to Santa because the kids were SO good the day before, thus explaining why he remained in the exact same hiding spot as the previous day. One evening, the mom is flustered. She finally hands the Elf to the dad and says, you hide the #%)(#^# elf today, but hide it high, because Big M is testing the waters and going to touch the #%(^#^ thing.” Dad’s answer is less than ideal – not only is the perch precarious, but it’s easily within reach of at least the oldest child, if not the second oldest as well. And it’s possible the elf is also judging the thermostat temp, which is an ongoing passive aggressive battle between mom (who sits at home and freezes all day) and dad (who pays the bills, but also works in his nice warm office all day).