Class entry. Every chapter fields one. Yours is at the library table on the left.
THE POSTCARD PALADIN
Class: Cleric of Correspondence · Alignment: Chaotic Smug · Level: 40
| STR | 4 | Can carry two tote bags. Three in an emergency. |
| DEX | 6 | Legible cursive under time pressure. |
| CON | 9 | Four hours at a folding table. Unbroken. |
| INT | 8 | Substantial. Deployed elsewhere. |
| WIS | 3 | — |
| FEELINGS | 20 | Maximum roll. Natural. Untrained. |
Abilities
- Postcard Barrage. Mails 300 handwritten cards to a state 900 miles away. Recipients are selected by an algorithm she does not control, from a list she has not seen, on behalf of a campaign whose candidate she could not name under oath.
- Stamp of Righteousness. Funds the postage personally. Mentions this.
- Summon Folding Table. Once per weekend. No save.
- Aura of Having Done Something. Radius 30 feet. Lasts until Tuesday.
Weaknesses
- Her own town’s budget hearing. Held annually. Attendance: not her.
- The ballot question two lines below the one she researched.
- Any race in which her vote is mathematically decisive.
- Being asked, kindly, what her select board did last month.
Lore
The Paladin is not lazy. That is the thing people get wrong about her, and it is why the joke lands. She works extremely hard. She has given up entire Saturdays. She has spent her own money. The hand cramps are real.
She has simply routed all of that effort nine hundred miles away, to a place where it is one postcard among a hundred thousand, because a distant campaign is emotionally legible in a way that a culvert is not. The distant campaign has heroes and a villain. The culvert has a line item.
She could rewrite her town’s zoning bylaw with that energy. She has the gear. She simply prefers the module the Dungeon Master shipped.
