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Feedback and Bugs / Bugs, Glitches, and Problems in Monster Land - Minotaur Edition

« on: October 17, 2019, 05:41:58 am »

Hey y'all! I've been playing Granrak Gorebull for a little while now and was requested by ToxicWrench to get this put together to document some issues I've run into due to model size, class-model combo issues, and more! So, without further ado, let's get started.

Race: Minotaur
Class: Monk(9)

Model Size:

The most common issue I run into is model sizes preventing interaction. My big bull butt will often have to find just the right spot before I can open a chest, poke a barrel, or loot a static corpse. This isn't too much of an issue until the orientation of said objects provides enough room for normal sized characters but not enough for the bull, leading to much lost loot in various places. Sad times.

Player to player interactions are also quite wonky due to model size disparity! Many spells in this game, buffs and heals and the like, require the caster to be in melee range with the target. In this case, at least one character has tried to target and heal me only to have their character stop a few feet away in the action-ready animation until they WASD themselves into my hitbox for the spell to finally go off. Quick heals? Emergency medkits? Super sweet buffs? It's a real difficult dance to do for it to work out.

Combat (mainly PvE) presents its own wild issues. While playing a melee, fists-only character, I've run into problems where I will approach a target and stand there until I WASD my way into hitbox land. Usually, when this happens, it triggers the infamous infini-tumble. In this state, my character will stand idle or mid-step animation and will trigger an eternal state of Attack of Opportunity, often leading to a swift death in crowds of three or four mobs if I'm not careful.

Cleave even acts up due to a mix of Cleave being naturally wonky and model size furthering the wonk to a point where I will cleave onto an enemy out of my melee range only to stand there are stare at them while they and their friends continue to assault me, effectively pulling me out of combat. Bad times indeed, being that I am large enough that more than a small group can surround and attack me than someone with a smaller model. Luckily, clicking on a closer enemy tends to help, though I lose a full round of damage output.

Doors and doorways have now become a comedic bane of my existence. With a door that is opened or closed by someone else or even myself, I can (and have) ended up entirely out of the map! Usually this is a minor teleport either further into or completely out of a room, requiring a moment to reposition and adjust. If out of combat, it's nothing more than a minor blip of silliness. In combat, it can either be a saving grace by giving me a moment to throw down a potion, or (more often than not), it sends me deep into a room full of enemies which I am not quite prepared for. If I am trapped between a closed door and enemies, meaning I cannot physically move save for turning, and then the door is opened or the other entities shuffle around, I get randomly dumped somewhere. Per my posts in #screenshots on discord, I even end up in space.

Sudden Death:

This one I suspect is more to do with a strange combat bug that seems to favor me above all else. This happens much more often when I am in groups, but has happened occasionally while solo as well. When I am fighting a foe that somehow gets a rather lucky shot and puts me onto my back, I have an extremely high chance for just getting outright killed, bypassing death saves entirely. And on the few occasions in groups that I am downed, they will stabilize/heal me far above the 1 HP I might get on a death save only to be immediately stricken down into Purgatory. Usually, it happens as such: Crit/High Damage puts me into downed state. Enemies shift attention to other frontline target. Someone heals me to ~20+ HP. I stand up and begin attacking. Enemy strikes me just once and into the great beyond I go. Maybe I'm just not getting pulled out of downed state?

Results:

This character concept was built on being a combat-oriented leader and eventually a challenger for the title of Sullivan/local ruler. The constant issues with combat, however, is leading to a place where XP gain is nigh impossible or I simply cannot play. The combination of these oddities means I am unsure I will be able to continue with this theme in mind and do not know how to continue forward at the moment.

DMs - Thank you for taking the time to make the Minotaur race and read this to see some feedback. If there's anything I can do to help in fixing these issues, please let me know!

Players - If you're playing a large race or have had issues interacting with large characters (myself included), please post it here because I may not even be aware of other issues that you're dealing with!

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TL;DR:

-Size is causing me to be unable to interact with certain objects (especially large/oddly shaped objects).
-Size is causing me to be unable to be healed/buffed without extra work.
-Size is causing me to be unable to attack enemies properly, leading to a constant triggering of Attack of Opportunities.
-Size is causing my cleave to extend past melee range and leads to lost rounds.
-Size+Speed is causing hitbox issues with doors that can be minor or game-breaking.
-??? is causing me to skip death saves and go straight to purgatory.

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Journals & Backgrounds / Mama's Boy

« on: October 16, 2019, 05:28:52 am »

Name: Granrak Gorebull
Race: Minotaur
Gender: Male
Height: 7'8"
Weight: 725 lbs

Physical Appearance:

At first glance, this minotaur acts as an imposing and dark figure in even the brightest of lights. He stands tall, taller than many of his own kin, and broad enough to seal a doorway simply by standing in it. An oddity, perhaps, is his distinct lack of armor and weaponry. Instead, he has opted to wear a loincloth when he must, and a satchel large enough for him to carry all that he might need while being entirely unburdened. With that constant exposure, this bestial figure has no way at all to hide his identifying features. In rare cases, Gorebull will dress himself in loose cloth, to be seen as decent for his run ins with cultures that see his comfort as crudeness.

With no helm to hide his head, the minotaurs horns are proudly on display just behind fuzzy, bovine ears. Their natural, off-white bone tones protrude to the side, curl forward, and point ahead to act as the iron sights for a charging beast. His mane is wild and unkempt, curling and draped across his shoulders and down his back like a waterfall of ink. Even his eyes carry that same dark depth, gleaming like polished charcoal and as sharp as an axe. Gorebull’s long face ends in a blunt, flat nose where his nostrils flare with every huff and puff. Unlike his cowish cousins, this monster does not have flat, herbivore teeth. He has chompers. Gnashers. Teeth as sharp and terrible as daggers, capable of tearing meat and tendon from the bones of those unfortunate enough to become his victims.

His body is a marble statue of horror and violence wrapped in the pelt of a black bear. The dense, shaggy fur is matte, reflecting nothing, appearing to absorb the light around himself. There are lines, spots and flecks that break up this black behemoth. Streaks of grey cross his chest and back where arrows and blades have once carved into him. Jagged stripes stand on his forearms where he has been sliced, the defensive wounds earned by the swords of righteous men and burning giants. The senseless pattern does little to hide his herculean physique, the muscles across his body are drawn tight and honed to near perfection. Even his knuckles have been hardened, bone turned to steel from the lengthy battles that he calls training. Truly, a monstrous creature with the capacity for wanton cruelty and devastation with his claws alone.

Personality:

Not entirely unlike those of his kin, this minotaur is territorial, tribal, and destructive. He has learned to harness his innate traits and often appears as placid and calm as a lake, though he is a coiled snake ready to strike. He is determined, steadfast, goal oriented. Where his kin rage and become a mindless mess of fur and teeth and axe, Gorebull stays steady and strikes with opportunity, with clear and controlled fury to put his claws in the most vulnerable of places.

This monster sees the world as a strange sort of hierarchy, a pyramid to be climbed or to be destroyed. While he seems to seek a unity of monsters, to strengthen their hold on the land above and below, he has no issue at all with slaying those that disagree, that stand in his way, that oppose his ultimate goal. When they are human-ish, he sees this act as furthering his desires and providing himself with food. When they are monsters, he sees this as a culling of the weak and misguided, a strengthening of those who would stand with him in his glorious ascent. When they are animals, undead, or even stones laced with iron and mithril, it is simply training, practice for his body and mind while he coats himself in blood and dust.

On the very rare occasions that the minotaur allows himself to relax and to find comfort, he is oddly paternal. He smiles instead of snarls, comforts instead of kills, offering a firm hand of guidance instead of the iron fist of “leadership.” When found in this state, he listens and speaks plainly though the gleam in his eyes reveal this act for what it truly is: a collection of information, a gathering of facts and feelings that he might use to better tune his mind towards his desires. Even still, those that he finds this comfort with become akin to family to Gorebull and gain his strange brand of affection and comradery.

History:

A local to the hills north of the current port, this Minotaur was pleasantly surprised by the arrival of and empowering of the current Sullivan. His small family, a tribe of mostly feral beastmen, had all but lost themselves to hunger and greed while the more capable and more conscious monsters had taken to this new leader, this strong figurehead, and had flourished. It was an eye opening experience, a revelation that solitary workings often led to self destruction. That weakness could be conquered in more ways than simply fighting for control and power against one's chief or father. But such a collective growth couldn't happen with a unity of weak beasts. There needed to be an effort, a push to perfect an individual to provide an example for others to do the same. And he took that knowledge and applied himself. Burning rage became fuel. Blind hunger became a sharp tool.

He has never had a martial arts master, no sensei, no abbot, no great trainer to teach him. He had to harness himself. He was clumsy at first, still young and lanky when he started his path to self control and violent purity. He was determined to be as true to his Monstrous nature as he could, though, and his early years were a disaster. He'd earned the ire of goblins by battling their hordes until he could truly fling them against their cavern walls. He had gone fist to fist with gnolls until he understood their savage strikes and cunning tactics. He'd honed his strength by wrestling the powerful of his own kin, learning to use those deadly horns for more than a charging gore. Bugbears had shown him merciless cruelty. Hobgoblins taught him something else entirely. To think. To plan. To read and write that he may intercept letters and learn of paths and plans. Ogres and trolls had delivered the message of might, of the right to rule by beating those that would stand opposed. His mind and his body had become a weapon, one he continues to sharpen, to perfect that he might one day become a leading force for those whose land has become trampled, carved down for cities. For those who have become hunted for the use of their fat and teeth and bones by magical meatbags. For those who understand that the only way to make their violent life better is to become better at violence.

Recently, Gorebull has taken to making offerings and praises to Mother, the mythical maker of monsters. While he doesn't seem particularly devoted, he has seen the force it has had in unifying monstrous races and knows that, by utilizing that strength, by harnessing that collective faith, monstrosities could be an unstoppable Force that just might be able to remove the reach of the Empire and leave his hunting grounds unfortified. His actions have followed that same ideal, as well. Clearing the homes of smaller monsters of pests and critters, claiming the hearts of tigers to strengthen Orc tribes, culling infected kobolds so that they can reclaim territory and breed and grow stronger together.

Rumors:

Whispers around Sullivan's Port tell of the Minotaur who can punch through even the strongest of stones and that the goblins who dared to get close to him during such occasions become smears of crimson across stone floors.

Travelers and gypsies may mention a large, black figure looming in the darkness and of caravans who do not complete their journeys. Some even claim to have seen this unknown monstrosity near the outskirts of Hadrian and Southbank.

The gnomes of Runaway's Hole claim to watch him from their windows as he dives into the depths of a nearby cave and emerge covered in an amalgamation of green and red, of shell and flesh without so much as a scratch on his horns.

References:
https://i.imgur.com/gRO5s5F.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/t2OE0uz.jpg

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Netherese Library / Research: The History of the Minotaur

« on: October 16, 2019, 04:49:27 am »

A young, blonde-haired figure makes his way into the library, taking a look around. He'd already thumbed through the plain bestiaries, the various tales of the coming of goblins and orcs, of the old gods and even a few tales on this Sylansia that seems to have taken the Monster world by storm. But something else had taken his interest. The Sullivan and his crew, all minotaurs. He'd heard legends, been told tall tales, but he decided it was finally time to settle in and see just what the written word had to say on the subject.

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Journals & Backgrounds / A Bestiary of Mundane and Magical Creatures

« on: October 25, 2018, 02:52:11 am »

A simple tome, worn and beaten at the edges, is tucked away in a satchel and hidden either on someone's person or hidden in the drawer of a worn desk. Its leather cover has weathered many elements, cracked and burned, the faded stamp-marks of what once was a grand lion telling of its age. A recent modification has brought two loops onto a reinforced spine, simple leather bands acting as a strap to keep it in place on a belt or around someone's shoulder.

On first opening, there are a series of names, crossed out, underlined, scribbled, and marked away save for one.

Krom Maxwell Alexander Steven Carl Eliphas

What lies further inside, though, is where things get interesting. The first few pages have been torn out, one scrap left behind showing a crude sketch of a seemingly Human leg and foot. The first intact page, marks the first proper entry into this tome of oddities and anatomical studies.

Table of Contents
((More will be added with each entry))

Animals

• Badger
• Boar
• Brown Bear
• Wolf
• Panther