Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

As I said previously, I am fairly certain being in parry mode will disrupt spell casting. If you cast a spell and then parry a blow or riposte I'm pretty sure the spell animation would be interrupted and you would lose the spell. This makes sense from an IC perspective as well, unless you have still spell, but even then I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to be attacking/parrying while casting a spell in D&D rules. Defensive Casting is more about simply not opening yourself up to opportunity attacks, but you still aren't parrying/attacking.

Thats actually why they trained so hard.

They have practised the somatic portion of spells well enough to allow them to be cast with one hand. Which is why fighting is done with a weapon in One hand, and the other remains free for spellcasting. The defensive style of fighting is tailored to be free to spellcast with impunity so the sword is used defensively when casting spells (deflecting/parries).

They switch to two hands on the sword usually when spells have been exausted.

There were nine of them, Aelrindel noted, adorned with mismatched armor—pieces of metal, strips of boiled leather, and hardened cloth. All were human, though barely recognizable as such beneath the gore and grit that covered their skin. Some were missing teeth or fingers, and one, a particularly emaciated figure whose bones stood out beneath a thin layer of skin, had only a single ear. They held steel in their hands—a motley collection of pitted swords, bloodied axes, and evil-looking dirks—and had a hard glint around the eyes.
Aelrindel felt his lithe form relax, the tension brought on by surveying the destruction of human war melted away beneath the promise of action. Distantly, somewhere deep within his heart, the elf heard the gentle strains of the Song begin.
"What have we here?" one of the scavengers, a burly man with a grizzled beard and a wicked scar run­ning from temple to throat, asked in exaggerated good humor. "Two pretty maids from the lands of the bleedin' elves?"
His accent was short and clipped, difficult for Ael­rindel to understand.
"N Tel'Quessir scum!" Faelyn proclaimed behind him.
The First Hilt held up his hand, to leash his friend's anger as much as to show these rude humans that they meant no harm.
"We are here in peace," he said slowly in the human tongue. His own mouth formed the unfamiliar syllables slowly. "We do not seek to hurt you."
That last brought a round of harsh laughter from the brigands.
"Been no peace in this land for quite some time," a weasely faced man barked out.
"An' that's just the way we like it, isn't it, lads?" the burly human asked, to the roaring affirmation of his companions. He moved closer to Aelrindel, close enough that the elf could make out the blackened stain of rot on his teeth; his breath stank like carrion. " 'Tis you who should worry about getting hurt," the burly human said with a cruel smile. "Now hand over your swords and the pretty little things that you and your 'lass' here no doubt decorate yerselves with."
Aelrindel simply stood there, watching the man's smile slowly fade as the elf made no move to comply with his commands.
The grizzled human took a step back.
"Kill them," was all that he said—was all that he would ever say again.
Twin elven blades sang from worn leather scabbards, catching the sunlight along their gleaming lengths. A single spray of blood erupted from the burly human's throat as Aelrindel's sword, unleashed at last, cleaved through muscle and bone in a single cut. The man fell, headless, to the ground.
Behind him, Aelrindel heard the sound of Faelyn's Song, and joined it with his own in fearsome harmony. Four more scavengers fell within moments. A fifth, the weasel-eyed man, began to cast a spell. The First Hilt parried a clumsy axe swing and caught the rhythm of the wizard's spell. It was one with which he was well familiar. Using his free hand, the bladesinger mirrored his opponent's casting then sent his considerable power out to surround the overmatched wizard, binding it to himself. Argent energy flew from the human's out­stretched hand only to fizzle into nothingness as the bladesinger quenched the spell.
The brigands were obviously fearful now. Their earlier swagger gave way to wariness, and Aelrindel could see two of them already surveying their escape routes. Using skills honed from centuries of combat, the two elves wove a deadly net of steel from which none of their opponents could escape. Two more scavengers fell. One threw his dirk hard at Faelyn. Aelrindel batted the makeshift missile away with the flat of his own blade, while his companion slid forward to drive the point of his weapon into the man's chest. The second, perhaps the most skilled fighter of the lot, parried the snaking steel of Aelrindel's blade twice before a quick feint left his guard open. The bladesinger took the advantage, and the man fell backward with a deep tear in his stomach.
The remaining two humans dropped their weapons and began to plead for their lives. Still holding his blade easily in one hand, the First Hilt pointed a slender finger away from the battleground.
"Go," he commanded, "and leave the dead to the gods."
The two babbled their thanks and hastily retreated, tripping repeatedly over one another as they ran up the slope and back toward the human settlement. Only when they moved out of the range of his elf sight did Aelrindel start cleaning his blade. Once it gleamed again, free of the blood of his enemies, the bladesinger held it flat between both of his hands, bowed low in the way of the laeriaen, and placed it back within its scabbard.
"They deserved to be punished for what they did—attempted to do," Faelyn said when he, too, had finished the ritual.
"I know, my friend," he replied, expecting another session of wrangling with his embittered companion, "but we shall let the humans deal with them."
"Eyes and ears indeed..." came the reply, with a sur­prising hint of humor.
Aelrindel laughed softly at the jest. It was good to laugh.
The child's cry came again, breaking the moment. It was close, just beyond the jutting rocks from which their attackers had leaped. Aelrindel gave his companion a final smile then moved toward the sound. As he drew near, he saw a pile of corpses, each bloody and awkwardly bent. When the wailing came again, the bladesinger knew that it originated from beneath the corpses. He motioned Faelyn to help, and between them, the two bladesingers carefully separated the dead from their eternal embrace. The bodies were cool and stiff.
There, cradled in the rigored arms of a woman and protected from the elements by the press of bodies and a simple bloodied cloth, lay a screaming child. Its skin was red and splotchy from its exertion and its tiny fingers were balled into fists, beating the air in obvious fear and frustration.
Aelrindel gazed at the creature for a long moment, noting by the cast of its distorted face the moon elf blood that flowed within its veins. That and something more.
Or less.
The child had a roundness to its face, a solidity to its tiny frame that bespoke of other parentage, human par­entage, if Aelrindel could judge these things right. It was one of the a Tel'Quessir, the Almost People. He sighed for the wailing child, caught forever between two worlds, and now, but a little while after its birth, already standing at the doorway to the gods' realm. He reached out his hand and stroked the child's cheek. Pale blue eyes opened wide, and the babe made a soft, surprised sound.
It stopped crying.
Aelrindel knelt before the child and started reaching for it with both hands.
"What do you think you're doing, Ael?" Faelyn asked, the incredulity behind the question clearly reflected in his voice.
"We cannot leave the child here to die," Aelrindel responded, not taking his eyes from the babe.
"Why not?" Faelyn continued, "Let the gods care for it. It is—"
"An abomination?" the First Hilt interrupted bitterly.
Faelyn swore. "Gods, Ael! Do you think I really believe that?"
Aelrindel shook his head—though there were some among their community who did see the a Tel'Quessir as abominations.
"Even so," Faelyn went on, "we cannot take this child in. Remember the Oath. We are what we are. Besides, it is an ill-omened foundling. The signs—"
"Damn the signs, Faelyn. I know them well: 'Born from battle, bad for luck.' Those are nothing but super­stition," Aelrindel said with finality.
Inwardly, though, he sighed. Faelyn was right. No one had ever brought an outsider to the community, yet what were thousands of years of tradition in the face of this one helpless half-elf child? He had made his decision.
He reached out again to the foundling.
"Ael, don't." He could hear the strain in Faelyn's voice.
"Enough," Aelrindel snapped in a voice full of com­mand. "The choice is mine, Faelyn, and I have made it."
From the corner of his eye, he saw his friend respond to the tone of command, stiffening as if he'd been struck.
"As you wish," came the flat response.
Kaer'vaelen.
It would always lie between them.
Aelrindel reached out to the child and gently, with great care, gathered the foundling into his arms. Staring into its soft, wide eyes, he didn't see the glint of anger flash across then settle in Faelyn's eyes.
All around them, the river burned.

All well and good, but I doubt it will address the Engine/Mechanical effect of parry mode on spell casting. Has anyone ever tried it? I haven't, but from the wiki:

NWN2Wiki wrote:With Spellcasting: When casting a spell in parry mode a character will parry attacks, but cannot make a counterattack until the next round. Once a character has begun to parry, any attempt to cast a spell must wait until the next round, meaning that to cast a spell while parrying requires beginning the spell while not under attack; a character under attack will never actually begin casting a spell waiting in their que. Generally a character will want to change from parry mode to defensive casting mode to throw spells for both safety and convenience.

This leads me to believe that mechanically, casting spells in parry mode is at best a difficult and annoying thing to accomplish and, at worst could cause player death if you try to cast and have it wait in queue at the wrong time.

chad878262 wrote:

Hidden: show

Tantive wrote:Thats actually why they trained so hard.

They have practised the somatic portion of spells well enough to allow them to be cast with one hand. Which is why fighting is done with a weapon in One hand, and the other remains free for spellcasting. The defensive style of fighting is tailored to be free to spellcast with impunity so the sword is used defensively when casting spells (deflecting/parries).

They switch to two hands on the sword usually when spells have been exausted.

There were nine of them, Aelrindel noted, adorned with mismatched armor—pieces of metal, strips of boiled leather, and hardened cloth. All were human, though barely recognizable as such beneath the gore and grit that covered their skin. Some were missing teeth or fingers, and one, a particularly emaciated figure whose bones stood out beneath a thin layer of skin, had only a single ear. They held steel in their hands—a motley collection of pitted swords, bloodied axes, and evil-looking dirks—and had a hard glint around the eyes.
Aelrindel felt his lithe form relax, the tension brought on by surveying the destruction of human war melted away beneath the promise of action. Distantly, somewhere deep within his heart, the elf heard the gentle strains of the Song begin.
"What have we here?" one of the scavengers, a burly man with a grizzled beard and a wicked scar run­ning from temple to throat, asked in exaggerated good humor. "Two pretty maids from the lands of the bleedin' elves?"
His accent was short and clipped, difficult for Ael­rindel to understand.
"N Tel'Quessir scum!" Faelyn proclaimed behind him.
The First Hilt held up his hand, to leash his friend's anger as much as to show these rude humans that they meant no harm.
"We are here in peace," he said slowly in the human tongue. His own mouth formed the unfamiliar syllables slowly. "We do not seek to hurt you."
That last brought a round of harsh laughter from the brigands.
"Been no peace in this land for quite some time," a weasely faced man barked out.
"An' that's just the way we like it, isn't it, lads?" the burly human asked, to the roaring affirmation of his companions. He moved closer to Aelrindel, close enough that the elf could make out the blackened stain of rot on his teeth; his breath stank like carrion. " 'Tis you who should worry about getting hurt," the burly human said with a cruel smile. "Now hand over your swords and the pretty little things that you and your 'lass' here no doubt decorate yerselves with."
Aelrindel simply stood there, watching the man's smile slowly fade as the elf made no move to comply with his commands.
The grizzled human took a step back.
"Kill them," was all that he said—was all that he would ever say again.
Twin elven blades sang from worn leather scabbards, catching the sunlight along their gleaming lengths. A single spray of blood erupted from the burly human's throat as Aelrindel's sword, unleashed at last, cleaved through muscle and bone in a single cut. The man fell, headless, to the ground.
Behind him, Aelrindel heard the sound of Faelyn's Song, and joined it with his own in fearsome harmony. Four more scavengers fell within moments. A fifth, the weasel-eyed man, began to cast a spell. The First Hilt parried a clumsy axe swing and caught the rhythm of the wizard's spell. It was one with which he was well familiar. Using his free hand, the bladesinger mirrored his opponent's casting then sent his considerable power out to surround the overmatched wizard, binding it to himself. Argent energy flew from the human's out­stretched hand only to fizzle into nothingness as the bladesinger quenched the spell.
The brigands were obviously fearful now. Their earlier swagger gave way to wariness, and Aelrindel could see two of them already surveying their escape routes. Using skills honed from centuries of combat, the two elves wove a deadly net of steel from which none of their opponents could escape. Two more scavengers fell. One threw his dirk hard at Faelyn. Aelrindel batted the makeshift missile away with the flat of his own blade, while his companion slid forward to drive the point of his weapon into the man's chest. The second, perhaps the most skilled fighter of the lot, parried the snaking steel of Aelrindel's blade twice before a quick feint left his guard open. The bladesinger took the advantage, and the man fell backward with a deep tear in his stomach.
The remaining two humans dropped their weapons and began to plead for their lives. Still holding his blade easily in one hand, the First Hilt pointed a slender finger away from the battleground.
"Go," he commanded, "and leave the dead to the gods."
The two babbled their thanks and hastily retreated, tripping repeatedly over one another as they ran up the slope and back toward the human settlement. Only when they moved out of the range of his elf sight did Aelrindel start cleaning his blade. Once it gleamed again, free of the blood of his enemies, the bladesinger held it flat between both of his hands, bowed low in the way of the laeriaen, and placed it back within its scabbard.
"They deserved to be punished for what they did—attempted to do," Faelyn said when he, too, had finished the ritual.
"I know, my friend," he replied, expecting another session of wrangling with his embittered companion, "but we shall let the humans deal with them."
"Eyes and ears indeed..." came the reply, with a sur­prising hint of humor.
Aelrindel laughed softly at the jest. It was good to laugh.
The child's cry came again, breaking the moment. It was close, just beyond the jutting rocks from which their attackers had leaped. Aelrindel gave his companion a final smile then moved toward the sound. As he drew near, he saw a pile of corpses, each bloody and awkwardly bent. When the wailing came again, the bladesinger knew that it originated from beneath the corpses. He motioned Faelyn to help, and between them, the two bladesingers carefully separated the dead from their eternal embrace. The bodies were cool and stiff.
There, cradled in the rigored arms of a woman and protected from the elements by the press of bodies and a simple bloodied cloth, lay a screaming child. Its skin was red and splotchy from its exertion and its tiny fingers were balled into fists, beating the air in obvious fear and frustration.
Aelrindel gazed at the creature for a long moment, noting by the cast of its distorted face the moon elf blood that flowed within its veins. That and something more.
Or less.
The child had a roundness to its face, a solidity to its tiny frame that bespoke of other parentage, human par­entage, if Aelrindel could judge these things right. It was one of the a Tel'Quessir, the Almost People. He sighed for the wailing child, caught forever between two worlds, and now, but a little while after its birth, already standing at the doorway to the gods' realm. He reached out his hand and stroked the child's cheek. Pale blue eyes opened wide, and the babe made a soft, surprised sound.
It stopped crying.
Aelrindel knelt before the child and started reaching for it with both hands.
"What do you think you're doing, Ael?" Faelyn asked, the incredulity behind the question clearly reflected in his voice.
"We cannot leave the child here to die," Aelrindel responded, not taking his eyes from the babe.
"Why not?" Faelyn continued, "Let the gods care for it. It is—"
"An abomination?" the First Hilt interrupted bitterly.
Faelyn swore. "Gods, Ael! Do you think I really believe that?"
Aelrindel shook his head—though there were some among their community who did see the a Tel'Quessir as abominations.
"Even so," Faelyn went on, "we cannot take this child in. Remember the Oath. We are what we are. Besides, it is an ill-omened foundling. The signs—"
"Damn the signs, Faelyn. I know them well: 'Born from battle, bad for luck.' Those are nothing but super­stition," Aelrindel said with finality.
Inwardly, though, he sighed. Faelyn was right. No one had ever brought an outsider to the community, yet what were thousands of years of tradition in the face of this one helpless half-elf child? He had made his decision.
He reached out again to the foundling.
"Ael, don't." He could hear the strain in Faelyn's voice.
"Enough," Aelrindel snapped in a voice full of com­mand. "The choice is mine, Faelyn, and I have made it."
From the corner of his eye, he saw his friend respond to the tone of command, stiffening as if he'd been struck.
"As you wish," came the flat response.
Kaer'vaelen.
It would always lie between them.
Aelrindel reached out to the child and gently, with great care, gathered the foundling into his arms. Staring into its soft, wide eyes, he didn't see the glint of anger flash across then settle in Faelyn's eyes.
All around them, the river burned.

All well and good, but I doubt it will address the Engine/Mechanical effect of parry mode on spell casting. Has anyone ever tried it? I haven't, but from the wiki:

NWN2Wiki wrote:With Spellcasting: When casting a spell in parry mode a character will parry attacks, but cannot make a counterattack until the next round. Once a character has begun to parry, any attempt to cast a spell must wait until the next round, meaning that to cast a spell while parrying requires beginning the spell while not under attack; a character under attack will never actually begin casting a spell waiting in their que. Generally a character will want to change from parry mode to defensive casting mode to throw spells for both safety and convenience.

This leads me to believe that mechanically, casting spells in parry mode is at best a difficult and annoying thing to accomplish and, at worst could cause player death if you try to cast and have it wait in queue at the wrong time.

DO NOT TRY AND CAST WHILE IN PARRY MODE! I REPEAT DO NOT TRY AND CAST IN PARRY MODE! Do you want to die? Because that is how you die....Seriously I did it once. Never got the spell off because I was always having to use my hands to parry.....this was with a divine caster BTW....just saying it is impossible.

Mechanicly it is iffy, I think it waits for the mode to be switch off before casting the spell. Or it doesn't know where to put a spell in the round, so its infinitely waiting.

Thanks for that explanation Tantive. Really felt like parrying and casting would be the bladesingers style;).

Does duel 7 elaborate parry grant ac bonus if dual wielding light piercing weapon?

So... How is the bladesinger PRC? Are the overzealous comments about this PRC being broken true? Or is it just another - regarding mechanical power -, lets say Dragon Slayer PRC?

Its a better dragonslayer. The trade-off for it, is that you need to be an elf. Basically, if you are a gish and you are taking elf there is no reason to go dragonslayer over bladesinger. Alternatively, elves make the best gishes.

But, I mean, if you are an elf archer then there is no reason to not incorporate arcane archer too (unless you go ranger, perhaps). So, there is that!

mrm3ntalist wrote:So... How is the bladesinger PRC? Are the overzealous comments about this PRC being broken true? Or is it just another - regarding mechanical power -, lets say Dragon Slayer PRC?

If I want to make an Elven Gish, and want some mechanical power, I would not go for Dragon Slayer.

Comments Only wrote:If I want to make an Elven Gish, and want some mechanical power, I would not go for Dragon Slayer.

Awe thats a shame. When/if you do make one I would be curious to learn more about it. I have one character left to rcr and i am between a human Dragonslayer or a half-elf Bladesinger.

I'd say its down to pointy ears and awesomeness with a single sword and spellmight vs heavy armor and a shield then Mrm3ntalist.

I have so far made 2 deathsingers and 1 bladesinger, all of those builds perform well enough thus far and look great in combat.

However nothing is stopping us from having dragonslayer and bladesinger on the same toon, should you be unable to choose. Well, you can only do it with an elven character true.

/M

How classes you used for the Deathsingers?

You can, but then you will be down 4 caster levels. Then you get dispelled easier.

I haven't raised a bladesinger yet, you know, cause elves are dumb, but I do enjoy the class concept so I have been nwn2db'ing the class build all out trying to make something work.

As a gish, I get something around 27-28 AB and a spell DC around 23 (without buffs etc)

Which isn't too bad... but that is a straight, Wiz/EK/BS. I tried putting in some other classes like Thaumaturge or Blood Magus or Harper Agent/Mage. But It is difficult. Then when you do that, there is the problem with Skill Points.

You cannot take able learner, and the goal for the bladesinger is to get to level 10 asap so you can wear the mithril breastplate.

Also, Depending on what epic feats you take (like taking a 4th class) you are going to end up having 24-28 INT. Which is only 3-4 bonus AC depending on the number you hit. You can just go all out and get to 30 int, but your epic feats.... those epic feats.

With Dragon Slayer, the requirements are the same... literally the same. Instead of taking 5-6 feats before epic levels.... You gotta take 3 feats pre-epic and 3 feats post epic. But you are given a LOT more freedom in class selection.

Both classes synergize well enough with shadow dancer (just gotta wear the right stuff to offset armor negatives in mithril fullplate), but Dragon Slayer you only need to take the 3 levels in it, and you can still be full 30 CL...

Bladesinger will suffer the CL penalty, so max you can go is 27. However, with Bladesinger, you can get shadow dancer without spending any extra feats at all. Plus, with the 19 dex requirement in mithral breastplate, it works out as well with a +3 dex item.

Dragon slayer synergizes well with Harper Agent.



So there are pluses and minuses. If you are not going for DC at all, both classes work fine. If you are trying to get better at save or die spells, bladesinger might be the way to go, if you want more flexibility with feat requirements, Dragonslayer...


Just gotta know what you want before you commit.

How much experience do you get through RCR? What kind of caster level are you going for? What classes do you want to take? Are you planning to focus on BAB, AB, or spell DCs? Actually, what kind of spells would you like to use with your potential gish? Moreover, what kind of equipment do you have available?

For example for a long time I have wanted to make a 'Shapeshifting Gish' - like I had in the early days of the server - but unfortunately there was a decision against the use of the 'quickcast bug' that pretty much made all 'Shapeshifting Gishes' not work all that well anymore. The grind to level up is painful because your spells just do not last long enough to grind efficiently - nor do you have enough casts of Polymorph Self and Shapechange to recast your necessary buffs over and over again - not to mention how you were pretty much just forced to use the Troll and Horned Devil shapes.

But then the server did add Fast Healing I, II, and III for a total of +6 Regeneration on top of everything else, and eventually I rolled a Gold Dwarf Sorcerer/Fighter/Eldritch Knight/Arcane Scholar and got it to level 11. The grinding was painful, but recently I just RCRed an epic character just to get this character concept of mine to level 26... and I find that it actually works to the extend of being fun. But I do not think that I would have ever managed to grind this character of mine to level 26, even if I had previously RCRed a character to start this one at level 20.

Thus I must ask the above questions, because those actually determine whether I think you would be better off with your Dragon Slayer or Bladesinger.


But as for the choice between Dragon Slayer and Bladesinger - a typical gish archetype to me is a lightly armored arcanist wielding both spell and blade. Thus from the get go, I find that the Bladesinger PRC actually offers the better flavoured fluff. This makes me naturally lean towards it and consider it as the superior PRC, even though these two PRCs are technically speaking relatively similar in their end results. In fact it is bit funny how something just irks me about those highly armored gish characters, while I have no trouble with highly armored blaster masters. For example Wizard/Fighter/Frostmage/Arcane Scholar was fun.