How strong is scruffy?

[dsollen]

I have never played D&D, but I know a bit of the rules. I know belkar getting an animal companion helps make him a bit less sub-optimal as a ranger, but I was wondering how much. He doesn't really fight all that often, so far he killed a commoner, which was a joke about how weak commoners were, and helped distract a thieves guild caster, but that's all he ever really did in comic I can recall (probably forgetting something). So I was wondering what a benefit scruffy provides purely mechanics wise.

When I looked up the rules it seems like he is...pretty weak. He gets decent AC and some HD and evasion for survivability, but can't seem to do much to contribute. I could be missing something, but as far as I can tell so long as belkar is non-epic there is no way to have a positive str modifier, which leaves every attack scruffy can do down to 1 damage. A total of 3 damage if he lands all attacks, maybe 6 with crits?

I believe Scruffy gets one bonus feet, two if belkster is has 18 levels in ranger, which seems unlikely, but I don't think they can have that significant an effect on his power. Improved Weapon finesse would change things, but I don't think that an animal can get the the weapon focus (natural weapons) feat?

Assuming my quickly put together math is right, what *is* scruffy good for? He can do a very tiny bit of damage. He can also force spell casters to make a concentration check. I'm not sure of all the math, but it seems any caster strong enough to be a threat shouldn't have much trouble making a concentration check right? Are there other things beyond attacking that could make him a viable asset?

[Nilehus]

I believe Scruffy gets one bonus feet, two if belkster is has 18 levels in ranger, which seems unlikely, but I don't think they can have that significant an effect on his power.

Nonsense. A cat with six feet is much more dangerous than a cat with four. :smalltongue:

But no, you're pretty much right. Scruffy is a badass housecat, but he's still a housecat in the end. He's not going to be soloing Xykon anytime soon.

[Reboot]

He can also force spell casters to make a concentration check. I'm not sure of all the math, but it seems any caster strong enough to be a threat shouldn't have much trouble making a concentration check right?

http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0521.html

[An Enemy Spy]

I have never played D&D, but I know a bit of the rules. I know belkar getting an animal companion helps make him a bit less sub-optimal as a ranger, but I was wondering how much. He doesn't really fight all that often, so far he killed a commoner, which was a joke about how weak commoners were, and helped distract a thieves guild caster, but that's all he ever really did in comic I can recall (probably forgetting something). So I was wondering what a benefit scruffy provides purely mechanics wise.

When I looked up the rules it seems like he is...pretty weak. He gets decent AC and some HD and evasion for survivability, but can't seem to do much to contribute. I could be missing something, but as far as I can tell so long as belkar is non-epic there is no way to have a positive str modifier, which leaves every attack scruffy can do down to 1 damage. A total of 3 damage if he lands all attacks, maybe 6 with crits?

I believe Scruffy gets one bonus feet, two if belkster is has 18 levels in ranger, which seems unlikely, but I don't think they can have that significant an effect on his power. Improved Weapon finesse would change things, but I don't think that an animal can get the the weapon focus (natural weapons) feat?

Assuming my quickly put together math is right, what *is* scruffy good for? He can do a very tiny bit of damage. He can also force spell casters to make a concentration check. I'm not sure of all the math, but it seems any caster strong enough to be a threat shouldn't have much trouble making a concentration check right? Are there other things beyond attacking that could make him a viable asset?

Statwise, Mr. Scruffy serves virtually no purpose for the Order at all. He's just Belkar's pet cat. Storywise, however, Mr. Scruffy is Belkar's morality chain. Belkar isn't just looking after himself when Mr. Scruffy is around, and that empathy is slowly and subtly starting to change his outlook on the world without him even knowing it.
Also, man, Mr. Scruffy has been on the team for almost half the strip's run. It's weird realizing he's not a new addition.

[Gray Mage]

A ranger's Animal Companion is pretty weak to begin with, him being a cat as well doesn't quite help (although cats are famous for being deadly to level 1 commoners, as Rich aluded to).

[littlebum2002]

Nonsense. A cat with six feet is much more dangerous than a cat with four. :smalltongue:


You owe me one keyboard due to my spitting coffee on it when I read this.

[Quild]

http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0521.html

Also here : http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0611.html

What's surprising is how Mr. Scruffy hits Sir Scraggly here (http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0803.html).

What STR do you need for that?
It's quite certainly the "rule of fun" that applies here.
IDK if the belt could be an old one that raises your STR to a certain point rather than gives +4 or +6. Not very likely (http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0687.html) I guess.

[Yuki Akuma]

Against level-appropriate foes, Mr. Scruffy is barely a speedbump. His most useful abilities are distracting enemies and flanking with Belkar and junk.

Against level 1 Warriors (which probably comprises most of their goblinoid foes), Mr. Scruffy is a blender of felinoid death.

[Killer Angel]

Are there other things beyond attacking that could make him a viable asset?

He's got certainly some levels in the aristocrat class. :smalltongue:

[snowblizz]

He's got certainly some levels in the aristocrat class. :smalltongue:

Surely you mean the aristoCAT class? :smallbiggrin::smallbiggrin::smallbiggrin:

[ranagrande]

Didn't we already figure out that Mr. Scruffy is Redcloak's niece?

[SirKazum]

Didn't we already figure out that Mr. Scruffy is Redcloak's niece?

Wait, Redcloak's nice is Serini??

And I thought it was safely established that Mr. Scruffy was the MitD.

[Quild]

I thought Sidgi was Serini?

Isn't MitD Redcloak's niece?

[woweedd]

Yeah, stat-wise, Scruffy is useless. A pampered housecat does not the best animal companion make. He does serve an important function in story, namely, assisting Belker's whole "fake character development turning into real character development" arc by being the one creature in the world Belker wouldn't kill if given the chance, showing that he does in fact have the ability to display empathy, even if it's just to one creature.

[SirKazum]

I thought Sidgi was Serini?

Isn't MitD Redcloak's niece?

I can see the ending of OOTS now: it's gradually revealed that each character is another character, until we end up learning that everyone is essentially the same character. Cut to the Giant, in a straitjacket, drooling inside a padded room. BOOM!

[Killer Angel]

Surely you mean the aristoCAT class? :smallbiggrin::smallbiggrin::smallbiggrin:

:smallbiggrin:

Precisely! and given that aristocats love jazz, no doubt Scruffy is involved in the Paladin's blues.

[Lvl 2 Expert]

I can see the ending of OOTS now: it's gradually revealed that each character is another character, until we end up learning that everyone is essentially the same character. Cut to the Giant, in a straitjacket, drooling inside a padded room. BOOM!

Except Xykon, he's the butler.

[King of Nowhere]

oots run mostly on mechanics, but not strictly. scruffy can disrupt a spellcaster, including one as powerful as tsukiko - who was more powerful than belkar. aside from that particular skill, he's mostly useless in combat. but removing from the game an enemy spellcaster is no small contribution. unfortunately it don'r work against thse with damage resistance, like malak or xykon.

[Quild]

I can see the ending of OOTS now: it's gradually revealed that each character is another character, until we end up learning that everyone is essentially the same character. Cut to the Giant, in a straitjacket, drooling inside a padded room. BOOM!

Reminds me of this nice text:
You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.
I believe it's called "The Egg" by Andy Weir.

[SirKazum]

Reminds me of this nice text:
You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.
I believe it's called "The Egg" by Andy Weir.

Yeah I know that one... really good :smallsmile:

[Adeptus]

That story sounded very much like Mormon theology. For some reason it has become quite popular with writers.