Refined And Reforged - D.P.S. v2.1 Released!

I know it has been almost 2 full years since I booted my little prodigal program out upon the web, and this probably should have come sooner. But, I must admit I both expected a larger number of bugs reported/issues as well as a general lack of attention for D.P.S. I was delightfully wrong on all accounts!

Since I rolled out the Digital Pathfinder Sheet it has amazed me at the sheer amount of interest it gets(in the form of over 2200 visits since it's release). When I set out to even try my hand at making the little tool I wasn't sure if I even could but I thought it would be handy enough if I did. And it has proven to be quite handy, I have been told so several times in fact. However I must sadly admit that it wasn't without it's flaws, some of which might have easily been overlooked but others were an irritation.

So, I decided to dust off the original code and polish it up a bit using user feedback as a guide(Which was surprisingly easier when code slinging on something other than a net-book!). Here are a few of the things that may have troubled you in the past but shouldn't anymore:

• Adjusted UI Layout - I have altered the overall layout slightly to allow for various labels and things to be more easily read. Hopefully you shouldn't be seeing text boxes covering parts of labels and the like anymore.
• Fixed Stat Mod Auto-Calc Bug - Yeah, when I dug in to the math I started finding where some stats wouldn't generate the right modifiers. When you are automatically calculating such values this shouldn't be happening, so I tinkered around and solved the problem.
• Skill Bonuses For Class Skills - Alright, this one may be a minor issue for some but I have adjusted things so that now even if you have checked a skill as a class skill it will only add the bonus in if you have 1 or more ranks in the skill. 
• Grey Boxes - Since a lot of text boxes are used to display generated data I have taken the liberty to alter how some are displayed. Now most boxes that auto-fill with values for you are grey in appearance. Hopefully this will help some users when entering their data.
• Help - I have also added a few new entries to the help dialog box pointing out some advice for users. 

Overall, you may not notice anything too drastic in this newer version. But, honestly, D.P.S. has been working surprisingly well so far. With these improvements I hope it will continue to serve those who use it well and provide them a useful tool for a fun pastime. Enjoy!

The Digital Pathfinder Sheet(both versions - new and old) can be found here:
https://sites.google.com/site/glitchedgrimore/
 or
For a direct download link:
D.P.S. v2.1 Release

Oh, and for the record - nobody has found all the Easter eggs, even after nearly 2 years. So the challenge is still standing! Give it a try if you want; there are 12 in all that if you find you can email/message me to verify them. You'll know when you find them since most will prompt you with a message of some kind etc. Good hunting!

Luck Of The Claw - Episode 39.

- Episode 39 -

Lady Adriana stalked through the night looking for another meal to satisfy her gnawing hunger. A couple of farms back the dragons of dark magic had caught up with her, joining in the hunt for food. So far they had found very little to appease their fiendish appetites, but they also had not yet come across anything that stood against them.

It felt so delicious to be free of the Vault, even if it did mean they had to exchange one vessel for another. At least they were free now; able to feast until they had their fill and then relish in all the fun these forms could provide. There was such sport they could have, and if these bodies failed them they could always take another.

What could stand in their way now? The memory of magic carried aloud, shaped by song and purity returned to haunt them. There was something in it's woven flow that had eluded them, defied and burned at them even as hastily summoned as it had been. Frustrated roars and bestial screams filled the night air as the monsters voiced their collective irritation at the idea of being opposed. Even the chance of being imprisoned again was a thought they would not tolerate.

A half eaten cow dropped to the ground from one dragon maw as the resounding wet thud was echoed by another, this time a wounded goat. They would have to seek out the source of that magic, the voice that had breathed it to life. Sniffing at the air the dark creatures shifted their attention to hunting down this threat to their freedom.

A sharp scream pierced the halls of Oakhelm Keep as Trinity bolted upright drenched in a cold sweat. Her limbs were heavy and stiff slowing her movements as she fought to get up. When Camden's head burst through the doorway Trinity was still trying to untangle herself from her sheets. In her panicked haste she couldn't waste a moment, not even for her brother to ask what was wrong or greet her. Instead she forced out the only words she could manage around her thick tongue trying to explain what she had seen in her dreams.

"They're coming," she warned him, her eyes still burning with a soft glow. Camden's expression turned to one of determination, a stone like resolve upon his brow. "Don't worry Trin, Mal has gone to speak with the King, me and Silver-Claws won't leave your side. We'll keep you safe," her brother promised firmly.

"Silver-Claws," Trinity had to ask, her head aching as she struggled to understand. "Oh, I named the dragon, he seems to like it - what do you think," Camden explained. "I suppose it fits," Trinity commented awkwardly.

"Cam," she began, her voice low and hinting at faint tremor of fear. "The other dragons, their dead bodies; they are now being used by the dark magic." Trinity had to swallow hard as she could still picture them. Camden's hand reached up to rest on her shoulder, when she looked back up it was his bright blue eyes she found looking into her.

"We will face them and stop them; I won't let them hurt you or anyone else," he assured her. Out in the hall another pair of eyes, burning like a white-hot blaze mirrored Camden's in agreement.

Luck Of The Claw - Episode 38.

- Episode 38 -

"I see the sun still shines upon the Silver Hall King Rainborne," Mal hadn't forgotten the customary greeting used when arriving before the king. Never one to waste time or bow to empty formalities he only did so out of respect for Tonniel, a boy who now king had proven his mettle to him long ago. He still wore both his steel studded coat as well as his trusty old blade at his side even though anyone else would have been forced to surrender such things before even being considered to set foot before the king. The truth of the matter was that none still served the king who probably could have managed to force him to comply, or quite honestly could have even had the courage to try. Even though it had been years since his booted steps had echoed across these hallowed halls, his name was still revered in whispers and his deeds talked of with wide-eyed wonder.

Now, Malthurion Abardeen, the storied knight himself was standing before them and so far none had been able to find their voice in his presence. The king himself was hard pressed to resist a grin himself when his eyes finally settled upon Mal, and allowed a half grin to mark his face. It was truly a gift to see him once more, and oddly enough he didn't look to have changed much to Tonniel's eyes.

"I hope you have been finding the quiet life of a farmer a fitting reward, old friend," the king spoke first to break the momentary pause of silence. "You have indeed been missed, what brings you before me now in such array and calling for an urgent audience? What could trouble a simple farmer so that he should take up arms and demand to speak before the king?"

Mal had known the man whose level gaze was trained keenly upon him since he was little. He had seen the measure of him and judged there was more cautious wit reserved behind his words. No longer a knight of standing within the court, Mal would have to be addressed as such.

"The Vault of Echoes has failed, it's guarded secrets loosed upon the world. I have witnessed it with my own eyes, myself and 2 other agents acted to preserve it. We only succeeded in securing a single guardian of the vault, while being beset by a hostile sorcerer and his forces. Fortune alone provided us with salvation - my companions intercepted items stolen from the Vault allowing us to at least thwart their plan if only barely. The Vault is no more and while the treasures it held were destroyed, their heinous magic has corrupted it somehow allowing it to escape."

As Mal briefed the king every ear in the court listened in shock and disbelief save for the king himself. He alone marked his trusted former knight's words attentively and allowed himself to contemplate both what he was saying as much what he wasn't. Whoever these two 'agents' were, if they had stood with Mal against such dire odds they must possess at the very least some portion of his courage.

And it desperately was sounding like they were going to need all the courage they could gather.

Luck Of The Claw - Episode 37.

- Episode 37 -

Tonniel Rainborne had been king to the realm for many years, succeeding his father as a young man he had been forced to temper himself through tumultuous times. The young ruler had always relied upon wise and capable figures such as Mal to provide him counsel, trusting as his father had in their sound judgment. Over time Tonniel had come to leverage his own keen mind and proven that he had learned greatly from those around him. It was a day filled with sadness however when he granted Mal his leave and bid him farewell. And yet, here he was being told that one of his most respected champions had returned seeking an urgent audience. Curiously he couldn't help but wonder what could have prompted the old hero's return but prudence warned him that whatever it was - it certainly wasn't good.

"Very well," the king conceded with a slight wave of his right hand, his left still cradling his chin in contemplation. "Bid my old and trusty former knight to bring his concerns before me. It is the least I can do to repay his long and fruitful years of service by hearing him out." Silently the awkward young page rose from his customer kneeling position to bow curtly before making his exit, careful to keep his pace proper before slipping into a sprint just two steps out of the throne room. It always made Tonniel chuckle to watch his page drop his royal etiquette the second he thought he was out of sight. If only the lad knew that if he had waited only a few steps more that no one could notice or let alone that it truly mattered enough to hide.

It was Mal who he recalled had taught him that lesson; that the importance of a task far out weighed the presentation. All the fancy words and well presented fluff meant little compared to weather or not something was done. "What was it that he used to always say," the king quietly asked himself trying to spark his memory. "Oh, yes; 'A stout blade no matter how crude is worth well over twice it's number whose only use is being shiny and new'."

When he was but still a young lad following at his father's heels the notion had always puzzled him. He riddled over how something so plain or simple could ever truly be worth more than anything crafted with refinement or artistry. After one lesson with Mal in the yard he quickly found a firmly grasped understanding as he starred at a shattered, yet elegant, sword hilt in his hand. No matter how beautiful it had been the blade had proven worthless when set against a simpler piece of steel. It was on that very day Tonniel opened his eyes to the true worth of the old knight that had always served his father and set himself to dutifully study at everything that he could teach him.

Those lessons had always served him well over the years, but he had still missed his absent mentor. Now he had returned, but what trouble could have brought him back? The thought darkened his mood slightly as he waited for Mal's arrival to be announced. Times of late had been peaceful for a change but all things change he supposed. A strong simple steel sword without any adornment rested beside the throne however. Even in times of peace it paid to be prepared, his old mentor had truly taught him well.

Luck Of The Claw - Episode 36.

- Episode 36 -

"Eh, would you look at that," a tower guard muttered through his slack jaw. He watched in complete disbelief as a man was riding up with the bearing and confidence of a seasoned veteran assured that his orders would be accepted. Slumped over across the man's mount was the form of a young lady, a muscled arm carefully draped around her for support.

Approaching from just behind them was a sight that nobody would have believed, he had to blink several times to make sure. It was a dragon, an honest to heralds scale covered dragon and it even had a boy upon it's back. As he opened his mouth to speak he found himself immediately cut off by a guard beside him.

"Nope, the watch captain isn't going to believe this one so you can have the honor of being laughed at." Neither guard moved an inch as the man allowed his steed to slow to a stop before he hailed them. "Grant us entry and make haste," the proud figure bellowed up at them. "Inform your captain that Malthurion Abardeen would like a word and send for the royal page to request an emergency audience."

Blank stares and empty mouths answered Mal's request prompting him to reinforce his urgency. "Move," he roared fire lighting his face and the peal of thunder in his tone. All at once both guards exploded into motion slamming into each other before racing off into the keep.

"Mal, why is this place even called Oakhelm Keep anyways," Camden had finally brought himself to ask while they waited for entry. "The keep itself, it isn't stone, it is made of aged wood that has become like stone. It is very old and has survived countless assaults as such it is a helm of oak far more valued than any shaped steel. It keeps the king safe, and while we are within it I would ask that you try to refrain from anything foolish."

As the gate slowly cranked open Mal turned to level a stern expression towards Camden. "Not everyone has seen a dragon, much less found themselves on nearly as friendly terms. I would think it wise to keep close to it and neither of you wander off into mischief."

"Who, me," Camden asked with a grin. Seeing the guards face when he saw the dragon up close made Camden realize that Mal had indeed been right. There was a mixture of amazement and terror there at being this close to a dragon. He almost wished he could have just waited out here but he couldn't leave Trinity alone locked away inside the keep. And if this was the safest place then inside making just a small measure safer is where he would be.

Luck Of The Claw - Episode 35.

- Episode 35 -

With each ragged breath Trinity struggled to remain awake, the strain of maintaining her spell growing more and more difficult every moment. Wielding such delicate yet powerful forces was still new to her and the effort drained her inexperienced young mind. The sky around her kept threatening to become dark, her last measure of strength failing. She couldn't even find enough voice left to warn the others as she could feel the magic woven into wings unraveling.

Mal had already fortunately taken notice of Trinity's slipping grip behind him and wisely directed Percival into a cautious descent. But even having tried to prepare himself to expect her growing fatigue it still stole his breath as the spell-wings dissolved before his eyes. Without time left to gauge how far they had left to fall, Mal had to reserve himself to allowing his reflexes to lock a firm hold on his passenger and the reins.

Percival's steel shod hooves hammered into the ground with a hard clap that made even Mal's belly roll and protest. Shaken by the impact it took a few moments before he had to remind himself to open his eyes. He still had a vice like grasp on Trinity and Percival was loudly voicing his own desire to never ever be given wings again. The stalwart steed tenderly babied his now aching legs that were gratefully once more touching something with more substance than empty air.

"That was a close one," Camden nervously noted hovering overhead until he caught sight of his sister's limp form. "Trin," he screamed, panic and worry seizing him to the core as he almost leapt from the dragon's back. A single barked word, uttered with the clear tone of authority trumpeted out of Mal to slam itself home into Camden as sure as any blow.

"Halt," the weary warrior ordered. The sudden shock was all Mal needed to redirect Camden's intended action and allow himself to marshal his mind to address their available courses of action. "Our task hasn't changed, indeed if anything it has become even more vital that we safeguard your sister. We are also obligated to warn the king about the threat to the kingdom. Our wisest option lay in doing both; we must make for Oakhelm Keep! It is the strongest defensible position within the realm and home to the throne. Once there we can rally the realm and prepare ourselves against whatever has escaped from the Vault."

Camden grimly took in everything Mal said, without any thought of question or dispute. His only concern right now was to get his sister to safety and swiftly. If that meant Oakhelm Keep, then that is where they would head. "Then let's not waste any more time, we have ground to cover," Camden urged his new-found mentor.

"No time to tend our wounds, nor wounded pride," Mal whispered at Percival's ear. "We are needed, desperately once more to heed the call to duty. What do you say old friend?"

Percival planted his feet, his stance one of a statuesque knight's noble steed and snorted. "Thought so," Mal remarked to himself with a lopsided grin before spurring his mount into motion. This was a far cry from any kind of retirement he had ever heard of, Mal made a note of to himself. But he was now starting to think retirement was never something meant for him.

Luck Of The Claw - Episode 34.

- Episode 34 -

Still shaking with fear, Thatch and Cobble clung to the desperate security of the thick bushes around them. They had watched in abject terror as they saw what had befallen Lady Adriana. Even when Baron Samael loosed his deadly spell they sat frozen, unable to even consider taking flight. What good would it have done either of them, both knew without even having to ask how far they might have made it on foot. All they would have had to do was draw attention to themselves and that would be the end of it.

Cobble never even bothered to ask Thatch, his usual source of mental resources, if the Baron might hold it against them for having obeyed the Lady. But as soon as the question formed to him he instantly decided that opening his mouth to ask it wasn't a very good idea. It was one of the few moments Cobble was sure he had a good idea, which even he would admit were rare ones.

Thatch, himself for once, was trying as hard as he might not to think. There was no idea that he even wanted to consider besides somehow staying alive. He didn't even take any note of the baneful beasts who were themselves cowering alongside them. Even these horrid hounds who it seemed like just so recently were something so terrible had managed to discover a force that made them recoil. Above all else, Thatch did not want to allow himself to think about that.

But as the Vault of Echoes began to spew forth shades in an explosive surge and darkness began to sweep over the ground on it's own accord there was no need for thought. Thatch didn't have to say a single word, Cobble never even asked the pair of them just bolted straight out the bushes and headed as fast and hard as their feet could carry them. Even the creatures had sensed it, it was a fundamental impulse that they could sense; that of impending and certain doom.

Narrowly the fleeing flunkies managed to clear the safety of their shrubbery before dark forms awkwardly passed through seeking shape and substance. Where once all the various essences had been given homes, worked into artifacts that gave them purpose and directed their power now they were loose. Now they were free once more, but without something to hold them they were mere pale ghosts of what they once were.

They needed a body, a form of some kind. Fortunately, still laying within the ruins of the Vault were several just waiting to be filled. Delighted they poured themselves into the lifeless dragons causing them to arise with unnatural movements. While these forms were no longer alive they would provide them a suitable container for now.