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You Wouldn't Believe It, But...
Pkmoutl
Registered User regular
Registered User regular
Okay, this is the thread we've all been waiting for.
This is the thread where we talk about bad GM's and even worse PC's that you have dealt with in the past. Or even in the present. Some of us just get such stupid people in our groups that they couldn't buy a clue with a downpayment and a mortgage.
So, let's hear those tales of tragedy. Especially if they're funny.
Let me begin.
We had a guy in our college RPG club named Big Dave. Big Dave was about 6'5" and weighed in at well over 400lbs. He also had a propensity for wearing purple, so he got the nickname "Grimace." He also breathed heavy whenever he spoke, kind of like a cross between Jabba the Hutt and Darth Vader.
Now, of the many things that he did, Grimace had one annoying trait, and that was to play Gangrels in WoD games. And not just any Gangrels, they had to be half Native American, have a wolf companion and be named...
Oh god, this is great.
They had to be named Christian Dark.
Every
Single
Fucking
Time.
Christian Dark also appeared in Shadowrun as a Street Sam, in Cyberpunk as a Solo and even once in Battletech as a mech pilot whose big goal was to drive a Cicada.
But I digress.
So the first time Grimace shows up with Christian Dark, I look the character over. I let him have the wolf pet and everything else. The wolf died because he never fed it (he refused to Ghoul it, too. Why? "Because I'm Native American and that's against my religion.") Ooookaaaayy.
Second time he shows up with Christian Dark, he has made some changes. He's taken a zillion Flaws so that he can start the game off with Protean at 5. I don't know about the newer editions, but in the old 1st and 2nd editions, this gave you the ability to turn into a cloud of mist. However, he didn't take anything else. No Fortitude, no Animalism. The wolf ran away after an hour because he had no Animalism, no Animal Ken skill, and he still refused to ghoul the damn thing. Christian Dark II went down in a blaze of kerosene. He tried to fire-bomb an NPC's house, fucked up the roll, and then tried to escape by turning into mist. On top of that, NO FORTITUDE. So he evaporated himself.
Third Christian Dark appearance was in a Sabbat campaign. Again, he did the same thing as last time, almost to the letter, except that he skipped the Wolf Companion bit. At least for a few minutes. So, I get everyone's character in the same area, and they are doing introductions and all that. Anyone not actively participating, I ask them what they are doing. I get to Grimace. "What's Christian Dark doing?"
"I'm gonna go steal a Winnebago."
"Mmmokay...WHY?"
"Cuz I want a Winnebago."
"Okay."
So six tries later, he finally is able to boost a Winnebago. So now we all want to know what he's doing with it. He decides to drive to the nearest large zoo. After some debate, we declare that the closest large zoos are in Toronto and Detroit (Buffalo has a pitiful zoo). So he drives the four hours to Detroit so he can break into the zoo.
"Okay, I know I'm going to regret asking you this, but why are you breaking into the zoo?"
"You'll see."
Finally, after ten tries at picking the locks, he realizes that he could just turn into a fucking bat and fly over the top of the gate. By this time, everyone is chuckling at him.
"Okay, so you fly into the zoo. What are you going to do in there?"
"I go and I find the wolf cage."
"What?"
"They should have a wolf cage, and I want to steal one so I can keep it in my Winnebago so that it don't run off."
Pause
"Okay, say that again slowly, because my brain just seized up. Are you telling me that you did this just so you could get your fucking wolf companion?"
"Uh. Yeah. Hadja fooled, Din't I?"
"No, I just figured you'd wait until later on when the game was actually in full swing."
"Okay, so I go to break out the wolves."
"Dave, there are no wolves in the fucking zoo."
"WHY NOT?"
"Because wolves aren't kept in zoos. They're a protected species."
"OH THAT'S BULLSHIT. How am I supposed to get my fucking wolf?"
He actually said that line as if he was about to cry. I shit you not.
"Dave, you aren't getting a wolf in the zoo. They don't have them there. Sno-cones, yes. Giraffes, yes. Wolves, no."
"Fuck. Dude, this is so fucking stupid. I should be able to get a wolf from the fuckin zoo, dude. COME ON."
"Dave, you hear footsteps."
"Uh, do they have a bird house thing?"
"Like an aviary? Yes."
"Fuck, dude. I goes in there. And hide. Fuck. I wanted my wolf."
"Fuck the wolf, Dave. The DPD is on your ass now. They saw you standing around looking for a wolf like a drunken idiot."
"Okay, what do I see?"
"Using Glow of Red Eyes?"
"Nuh uh. I don' wanna give myself away, dude."
"All you see are four large cages in the corners of the room. One apparently has barn owls in it, because you can see in the light from the window that there is a makeshift barn in the cage."
"Okay, I hide in the one next to it, but across from the door."
"You hear the footsteps stop at the aviary door, then start up again. Then, something hits you in the head. Take two."
"Fuck, dude. I turn around."
"You see nothing."
"I pop my claws."
"Something hits you in the forehead. Take three more."
"Fuck, Uh, I soak the damage." He botches. "FUCK DUDE FUCK."
"I look down the hall. Do I see anyone?"
"No, but you just got hit in the head for another five."
Long story short, the cage had a California Condor in it, and it was trying to eat his head, because he smelled like dead flesh to the condor. He ends up crawling out of the aviary with one health level left. The other players (like 9 or 10 of them) are all roaring with laughter. He's giving them all the finger and telling them to fuck off and what-not.
Then the guard shows up. I roll two dice to see how lucky he is, and I roll two ones. Dave's luck has just run out. The guardian of the zoo has just shown up, and he's a Werewolf.
Chase ensues, starting with his usual escape tactic, "Dude, I mist."
"Okay, you move really slowly in this form, and this guy is just going to follow you around."
"But dude, I'm mist."
"That doesn't make you invisible."
"Fuck it. I go to wolf form."
"Well, I already told you he was a werewolf, and since he's already in Crinos, changing to Lupus or Hispo isn't that tough."
"Fuck, dude (yes, he said that A LOT), I go to bat form."
"It takes you a round to change, you realize this?"
"So? I gotta get away from this guy."
"He snatches you out of the air, wags his finger at you and says, 'ah, ah, ah...you don't get away that easy.'"
So instead of just going to human form and trying to talk his way out of it, he goes back to wolf form and bites the werewolf. The werewolf drops him and he manages to run all the way back to the Winnebago. At which point, he turns to human form, jumps in the driver's seat and starts the engine. The werewolf chasing him barrels through the side of the Winnebago and drags him in the back, where he pummels the shit out of him. The Winnebago, mind you, is still going. They get into a claw fight in the back of the Winnebago, and after a few swipes, the Werewolf bails. Dave thinks he's won.
No, the werewolf just realized what was going on and bailed before the Winnebago flew off an overpass onto oncoming traffic on the I-696.
Again, no Fortitude and four Aggrivated wounds to his name. I roll another luck roll. Double ones again. Chemichal truck inbound at 60mph.
Dave looks at me and says, "Fuck it, I can take it. I just wait for the truck to hit, and then I go to mist."
I reiterate to him that it takes a full round to change to any form, and that the ensuing explosion will happen instantly. PLUS the fact that this is almost exactly how he died the last time.
He bails. The truck smashes through the Winnebago, nothing ignites, and everything is okay. Until Dave says, "Fuck, dude. I'm gonna go find a park or something and take a nap on a bench so's I can heal up."
"There's a huge park just the other side of the overpass, you know. It says Detroit Zoological Park."
"Cool, I go there."
The werewolf chases him around the zoo for several more hours until Dave finally gets smart and ditches in a dumpster.
There was a fourth version of Christian Dark, but I nipped that in the bud. He showed up with yet another clone of this infamous asshat, and he even paid the art student down the hall to draw the character on the back of the sheet.
"Dave, no Christian Darks allowed. This is going to be a serious campaign. I don't need you destroying Winnebagos and evaporating yourself. I actually want this one to be creepy, okay?"
"Fuck, dude. That's bullshit. I even got the drawing for him too, dude."
This is the thread where we talk about bad GM's and even worse PC's that you have dealt with in the past. Or even in the present. Some of us just get such stupid people in our groups that they couldn't buy a clue with a downpayment and a mortgage.
So, let's hear those tales of tragedy. Especially if they're funny.
Let me begin.
We had a guy in our college RPG club named Big Dave. Big Dave was about 6'5" and weighed in at well over 400lbs. He also had a propensity for wearing purple, so he got the nickname "Grimace." He also breathed heavy whenever he spoke, kind of like a cross between Jabba the Hutt and Darth Vader.
Now, of the many things that he did, Grimace had one annoying trait, and that was to play Gangrels in WoD games. And not just any Gangrels, they had to be half Native American, have a wolf companion and be named...
Oh god, this is great.
They had to be named Christian Dark.
Every
Single
Fucking
Time.
Christian Dark also appeared in Shadowrun as a Street Sam, in Cyberpunk as a Solo and even once in Battletech as a mech pilot whose big goal was to drive a Cicada.
But I digress.
So the first time Grimace shows up with Christian Dark, I look the character over. I let him have the wolf pet and everything else. The wolf died because he never fed it (he refused to Ghoul it, too. Why? "Because I'm Native American and that's against my religion.") Ooookaaaayy.
Second time he shows up with Christian Dark, he has made some changes. He's taken a zillion Flaws so that he can start the game off with Protean at 5. I don't know about the newer editions, but in the old 1st and 2nd editions, this gave you the ability to turn into a cloud of mist. However, he didn't take anything else. No Fortitude, no Animalism. The wolf ran away after an hour because he had no Animalism, no Animal Ken skill, and he still refused to ghoul the damn thing. Christian Dark II went down in a blaze of kerosene. He tried to fire-bomb an NPC's house, fucked up the roll, and then tried to escape by turning into mist. On top of that, NO FORTITUDE. So he evaporated himself.
Third Christian Dark appearance was in a Sabbat campaign. Again, he did the same thing as last time, almost to the letter, except that he skipped the Wolf Companion bit. At least for a few minutes. So, I get everyone's character in the same area, and they are doing introductions and all that. Anyone not actively participating, I ask them what they are doing. I get to Grimace. "What's Christian Dark doing?"
"I'm gonna go steal a Winnebago."
"Mmmokay...WHY?"
"Cuz I want a Winnebago."
"Okay."
So six tries later, he finally is able to boost a Winnebago. So now we all want to know what he's doing with it. He decides to drive to the nearest large zoo. After some debate, we declare that the closest large zoos are in Toronto and Detroit (Buffalo has a pitiful zoo). So he drives the four hours to Detroit so he can break into the zoo.
"Okay, I know I'm going to regret asking you this, but why are you breaking into the zoo?"
"You'll see."
Finally, after ten tries at picking the locks, he realizes that he could just turn into a fucking bat and fly over the top of the gate. By this time, everyone is chuckling at him.
"Okay, so you fly into the zoo. What are you going to do in there?"
"I go and I find the wolf cage."
"What?"
"They should have a wolf cage, and I want to steal one so I can keep it in my Winnebago so that it don't run off."
Pause
"Okay, say that again slowly, because my brain just seized up. Are you telling me that you did this just so you could get your fucking wolf companion?"
"Uh. Yeah. Hadja fooled, Din't I?"
"No, I just figured you'd wait until later on when the game was actually in full swing."
"Okay, so I go to break out the wolves."
"Dave, there are no wolves in the fucking zoo."
"WHY NOT?"
"Because wolves aren't kept in zoos. They're a protected species."
"OH THAT'S BULLSHIT. How am I supposed to get my fucking wolf?"
He actually said that line as if he was about to cry. I shit you not.
"Dave, you aren't getting a wolf in the zoo. They don't have them there. Sno-cones, yes. Giraffes, yes. Wolves, no."
"Fuck. Dude, this is so fucking stupid. I should be able to get a wolf from the fuckin zoo, dude. COME ON."
"Dave, you hear footsteps."
"Uh, do they have a bird house thing?"
"Like an aviary? Yes."
"Fuck, dude. I goes in there. And hide. Fuck. I wanted my wolf."
"Fuck the wolf, Dave. The DPD is on your ass now. They saw you standing around looking for a wolf like a drunken idiot."
"Okay, what do I see?"
"Using Glow of Red Eyes?"
"Nuh uh. I don' wanna give myself away, dude."
"All you see are four large cages in the corners of the room. One apparently has barn owls in it, because you can see in the light from the window that there is a makeshift barn in the cage."
"Okay, I hide in the one next to it, but across from the door."
"You hear the footsteps stop at the aviary door, then start up again. Then, something hits you in the head. Take two."
"Fuck, dude. I turn around."
"You see nothing."
"I pop my claws."
"Something hits you in the forehead. Take three more."
"Fuck, Uh, I soak the damage." He botches. "FUCK DUDE FUCK."
"I look down the hall. Do I see anyone?"
"No, but you just got hit in the head for another five."
Long story short, the cage had a California Condor in it, and it was trying to eat his head, because he smelled like dead flesh to the condor. He ends up crawling out of the aviary with one health level left. The other players (like 9 or 10 of them) are all roaring with laughter. He's giving them all the finger and telling them to fuck off and what-not.
Then the guard shows up. I roll two dice to see how lucky he is, and I roll two ones. Dave's luck has just run out. The guardian of the zoo has just shown up, and he's a Werewolf.
Chase ensues, starting with his usual escape tactic, "Dude, I mist."
"Okay, you move really slowly in this form, and this guy is just going to follow you around."
"But dude, I'm mist."
"That doesn't make you invisible."
"Fuck it. I go to wolf form."
"Well, I already told you he was a werewolf, and since he's already in Crinos, changing to Lupus or Hispo isn't that tough."
"Fuck, dude (yes, he said that A LOT), I go to bat form."
"It takes you a round to change, you realize this?"
"So? I gotta get away from this guy."
"He snatches you out of the air, wags his finger at you and says, 'ah, ah, ah...you don't get away that easy.'"
So instead of just going to human form and trying to talk his way out of it, he goes back to wolf form and bites the werewolf. The werewolf drops him and he manages to run all the way back to the Winnebago. At which point, he turns to human form, jumps in the driver's seat and starts the engine. The werewolf chasing him barrels through the side of the Winnebago and drags him in the back, where he pummels the shit out of him. The Winnebago, mind you, is still going. They get into a claw fight in the back of the Winnebago, and after a few swipes, the Werewolf bails. Dave thinks he's won.
No, the werewolf just realized what was going on and bailed before the Winnebago flew off an overpass onto oncoming traffic on the I-696.
Again, no Fortitude and four Aggrivated wounds to his name. I roll another luck roll. Double ones again. Chemichal truck inbound at 60mph.
Dave looks at me and says, "Fuck it, I can take it. I just wait for the truck to hit, and then I go to mist."
I reiterate to him that it takes a full round to change to any form, and that the ensuing explosion will happen instantly. PLUS the fact that this is almost exactly how he died the last time.
He bails. The truck smashes through the Winnebago, nothing ignites, and everything is okay. Until Dave says, "Fuck, dude. I'm gonna go find a park or something and take a nap on a bench so's I can heal up."
"There's a huge park just the other side of the overpass, you know. It says Detroit Zoological Park."
"Cool, I go there."
The werewolf chases him around the zoo for several more hours until Dave finally gets smart and ditches in a dumpster.
There was a fourth version of Christian Dark, but I nipped that in the bud. He showed up with yet another clone of this infamous asshat, and he even paid the art student down the hall to draw the character on the back of the sheet.
"Dave, no Christian Darks allowed. This is going to be a serious campaign. I don't need you destroying Winnebagos and evaporating yourself. I actually want this one to be creepy, okay?"
"Fuck, dude. That's bullshit. I even got the drawing for him too, dude."
Pkmoutl on
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But I wish I could remember some of my own. It's been too long since I've played anything.
My sweet, untouched Miranda
And while the seagulls are crying
We fall but our souls are flying
猿も木から落ちる
Anyone from Detroit could tell you that the chances of him going anywhere on 696 are pretty slim. You should have rolled to check and see if there were construction cones everywhere.
lol.
I wonder if you can skip out on tolls on the I-90 if you went mist form.
One specific instance was right after we fought and nearly killed a blue dragon who was terrorizing a nearby village. It had shapshifted into a human and was travelling in a group of thayan slavers basically healing up. My buddy decided this was the time to turn on the group, divined the location of the dragon, and teleported himself directly there to him. Needless to say the dragon wasn't terribly pleased with one of the guys that nearly owned him showing up to try and deal.
Another time his druid was wild shaped into a bird and was flying over a drow outpost to check it out. Several minutes went by where he was trying to figure what he wanted to look for and all the while he was still flying above the drow. The DM got a little impatient and just randomly told him to roll a d20, nothing happend. About a minute later the DM told him to roll another d20, again nothing. By this point you'd think he'd have realized something was up, but nope, he kept dawdling and the third role didn't go so well, he came out of wild shape and fell to the ground in the middle of the drow encampment. Next time we run into him he has the mark of some spider god on his forehead and is completely insane, we parted ways with him at that point.
One other friend of mine would sometimes DM games, but he wasn't that good at it. Big encounters in his game would go one of two ways, either we'd completely own the monsters and he'd be all pissed off for the next week or we'd get completely owned by the monsters and his special NPC (read his "character" for the game he's DMing) would have to come in and save us. We quickly realized whenver he DMed he wasn't out to tell an interesting story so much as he was out to beat the PCs, and anything less then us needing his help to win was unacceptable. We stopped letting him DM games. Also, his Rifts Japan game was completely filled with characters from anime and video games, very few if any original characters that he put together.
The DM informed me that I had fallen from grace for killing an innocent, and that hunting was against my lawful good alignment.
This is sort of weird. As far as I know, Wild Shape can't be dispelled (since you have effectively turned into that creature type, dispelling or being in an anti-magic field just means you can't turn into a different form). I'm actually currently playing a fairly high level druid in a game and that character spends a lot of time in Wild Shape, so if this is wrong, it would be good to know.
While this guy probably deserved to get jobbed, I think he got jobbed.
EDIT:
Wow, is there a thread yet for DM's who enjoy being dicks to screw over their players?
EDIT2: Heh, should have read the OP a bit more carefully...
One of my friends was GM'ing a Rifts game that was set in South America. After battling hordes of Vampires, killing off a Vampire Intelligence and banishing the drought demon from those lands, along with various other shenanigans, we discovered the real goal of his game;
He recreated Starcraft in Rifts form and had us face the Zerg.
Early in this second chapter of the campaign, two of the other players decided that they wanted to turn on the rest of the group and hijack the AC-29 Air Castle bomber that we'd been given for services rendered (stripped of much of its armament and gutted to provide space for troops and gear). In a very nasty battle on board the plane and while in the air, one of the conspirators (a White Tiger borg from Rifts: Russia) then turned on the other (a Coalition Special Forces operative) and killed him.
I then killed the borg, and we decided that it was time for a fresh group to form up and continue.
Having participated in wiping out the aforementioned Intelligence with my NGR Power Armour Pilot, that campaign ended with two of my characters being effectively personally responsible for committing genocide (the latter being a killing stroke by my CS Zapper / Sniper).
Was the deer secretly a druid, or something?
I mean, were it me, I'd be all "FUCK YEAH" and roll up a Blackguard, but somehow I doubt that'd fly. Plus it would be unbelievably silly.
IT... WAS... HORRIBLE. His DMing style was basically "Here's a hoop, jump through it." Well, that quickly got boring and we started doing the opposite of what he wanted us to do. This reached a glorious peak when we came across a bridge that we had to cross that was guarded by a sizable force of NPCs. Conveniently, the bridge was adjacent to a "dry, wooden house." Well, being the rogue of the group, I wanted to break into the house. The DM then points out that there are large barrels of whale oil next to the house... I quote, "highly flammable, whale oil." I, of course, move the whale oil because I wouldn't want the house to catch fire while I'm robbing it. Then there was a lit torch laying on the ground, precariously close to the house. I, of course, move it. I don't want to burn alive after all. This kept going with the DM adding more and more incomprehensible ways of setting this house on fire and we completely ignored every one of them. Good times.
Other Character "Hi, I am Bob the Destroyer"
Me: "Hi, I'm Sir Rounded" (at this point I would be crying on the floor I was laughing so hard)
After a while I had to start rolling somekind of save to see if my laughinh would be carried out by my character. Eventually the GM suceeded in killing my chracter off, and I rerolled as a chracter with a normal name.
To this day I still can't say that line without laughing.
I had one guy in a game I was running decide he wanted to play an evil character. Now, normally I don't allow evil characters, but this guy was... an exception. The group had been playing together a while and he had just walked by (we were playing in a dorm lounge) and finagled his way into playing. He wasn't someone that most of the people even LIKED, and I won't go into why I even let him play. The group had been given a mission to track down and retrieve a big bad mystical book, and been told in no uncertain terms that under NO circumstances were they to open the book.
Yep, he opened it. Then got pissed when a big nasty lightning bolt shot out of the book and burned him to ashes. Then got even more pissed when the rest of the group didn't gather up the ashes and take him back to town to be resurrected / reincarnated / whatever.
Oh yes, it was one of "those" games.
Towards the end of the campaign (before we all gave up and split apart :P ) a mystical hobo-shaman provided the characters with a big school bus, complete with hidden compartments in the floor of the bus for vampires to hide in. The bus was provided so that we, the players, could ride around (ridin' dirty?) in the daytime. The problem, of course, was that we didn't have a driver. So the hobo-shaman lent us his son to drive the vampire school bus.
His son was only 15 or so, so he couldn't actually drive the bus. But that wasn't a problem. He just shapeshifted into a werewolf and carried the bus.
Through the air.
Because he was a flying werewolf.
Yeah.
I later ran a vampire game which spawned the most awesome character of all time, the player affectionally naming him "Angry Whitey!" Angry Whitey was basically a response to the sometimes obnoxious over-dramatic nature of WoD games. I've already told this story a few times so I don't want to make it a long one, but Angry Whitey was basically Micheal Douglas from "Falling Down" as a vampire, and used a baseball bat instead of an actually effective weapon in combat because "it means I get to hit them more!"
That was an..... amusing game :P
Flying werewolf....awesome!
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Okay this one time, doesn't really count towards a bad GM or anything but, we were playing the Star Wars RP and our one friend always used droids. ALWAYS. No biological characters just droids.
Anyway he had an R2 unit and we were being assaulted by a squad of stormtroopers.
I stuffed the R2 unit of his with thermal detonators and then threw it at the troopers.
Good times.
I made a TD for iphone and windows phone!
So about every 4th fight, his mount gets dominated and starts attacking the party instead. It has killed a rich trader they had sworn to protect, it has been used to attack a friendly tribe of ex-slaves to alienate them, it has nearly bitten it's owner in half, it has escaped once (it can burrow thanks to a magic item) carrying a gift for a sorceror-king, and no matter what happens, the player seems oblivious to protecting his mount from such attacks. Now we're running the "Road of Fire" campaign, which features 5 high level psionicists as main enemies.... this is going to be fun.
To top it off, the monster is now such a one-of-a-kind monstrosity (It has armor, some kind of bite enhancing fake teeth, it can burrow, it has spikes) that he is notorious throughout the tablelands (they've visited most of the cities with it).
Well, until he started fucking with us for no good god-damned reason
He'd start mind-tricking us into things.
Here is where it's important to note that I was playing a Wookie, and my good friend was playing a Twi'lek.
So, the douchebag Jedi-cousin decides to put on a bit of a show. He tries to mind-trick me into raping the Twi'lek.
On a side-note, the first time he tried, the only way I could have beaten it was to roll a natural twenty. After being assured it was impossible for a noob, and after my loud protests of "Just watch, I'll roll the hell out of this d20." Which I did. Natch 20.
He tries again the next turn, and I fail. I now start making violent sexual advancements on our twi'lek fencer. He fails the grapple check.
Insertion happens.
God that was such a terrible introduction to DnD. Thank God I actually liked it.
To make a comparison, the current campaign (which is boxed, not written by me) has the players encounter at least 8 different encounters where the main antagonist has dominated people into attacking them.
Dude. I would have SO kicked the shit out of that guy for that.
Dude, as a GM I would have so obliterated his next 3-4 characters for that.
Later on, we are headed towards the castle or whatever, and we have a random enemy encounter. We are all melee, save for the one caster (druid?)
we are all closed in on the mobs, when Stoner Mcgee decides to use an AOE attack.
"I am going to use flamestrike."
"What? No. We are all within the area of damage. Don't be a douchebag, you'll hit all of us"
"I'm going to use flamestrike."
"NO"
"*succesfull roll* Take that!"
And I was the only one to fail the saving throw
Later, he tried to sneak a few disruptor rifles into Cloud City, and was pissed when security flipped out on him. He was also pissed once he was detained for shooting a few guards. He was even more pissed when we left the planet without him.
It was even more humiliating when we let the Gnome Illusionist take a whack at it with his small club. He critted and reduced the huge wooden door to a pile of splinters.
The axe-wielder just whimpered, went to the back of the party line, sulking and refusing to talk to anyone or help out.
It started when he tried to drink some gawdawful dwarven alcoholic beverage at the local pub (he was a halfling.) It knocked him on his ass, and we had to dunk him in the watering trough a few times to revive him. He staggered awake, and since splitting up in D&D is almost always certain death, we dragged him to the damn castle we were supposed to be storming. None of us were overly happy that he decided to get shithouse on the day of our Big Adventure.
Well, our first stop was at an Evil Temple of some kind. The priests wanted us to leave him there as a human sacrifice. We said it was a tempting idea, but we needed him to unlock doors for us. In the castle courtyard, a bunch of zombies and werewolves attacked us. The rogue failed his tumble roll and got one-shotted. We killed the werewolves and zombies, smacked the rogue around until he woke up, patched him up as best we could, and then forced him to pick the lock on the castle door.
When we got inside, we were attacked by some kind of weird vampire creatures. I can't remember what they were. What I do remember is that we dropped a turn undead on them and they spent all but one round cowering in the corner while we janked them. The other round was spent one-shotting the rogue. We smacked the rogue around until he woke up, patched him up as best we could, and then forced him to pick the lock on a stairway leading up.
The lock was trapped, and blasted the rogue all the way across the room, where he promptly went negative again (third time, for those keeping track.) We smacked him around until he woke up, patched him up as best we could (our healing was pretty crappy at this point), dragged him up the damn stairs, and made him pick the lock on a large, ornate chest upstairs.
Contrary to all laws of narrative convention, this chest was not trapped. We found three robes inside: a black one with red lining, a red one with black lining, and a black and red one with black and red lining (our GM wasn't the most inventive person in the world.) The rogue put one on, took fire damage, and dropped. We smacked him around until he woke up, patched him up (had almost no healing spells left), and kept ascending.
Well, there was a big damn insect thingy up at the top. I don't remember much about that fight except that we beat the crap out of it. We even managed to get to it before it could one-shot the rogue. He ended the fight with the big damn insect thingy with like two HP left. Of course, it toppled right over and squashed him, dropping him below 0 again. At that point we decided to rest for the night.
The next day, we picked up the rogue, tied a rope to him, and threw him through an untested portal. You know... to see whether or not it was safe for us.
"A man enters the tavern, shouting, 'Quickly, a monster is abducting the children!'"
The party eagerly rushed out to face this foe.
"As you approach the town center, you hear a horrible thump. Thumpity thump thump. It gets louder as you go down to the village. When you near the town center you notice a terrible golem. He is running here and there all around the square, leading on a child, and dancing as he goes. He has two dark eyes made out of coal, a stark contrast to his white exterior. His face is completed with a corncob pipe, and a button nose. The golem is topped with a black hat. He is armed with a broomstick."
The lady of the group protested, "FROSTY! You're making us fight Frosty the Snowman!"
"But, he's stealing children. Roll initiative."
So they fought the "snow-golem", had a good time of it as it threw magical snow balls and tried to beat them up with his broom. Later, after it was 'defeated', a child ran forth and restored it with a single tear, giving them another fight. The whole affair was a blast, and they got a magical evil hat from it.
Awesome.
I wonder how old this meme is. I know I've seen it on Dumpshock way back in 1998.
I know where the zoo and the 696 are. The trick was, they were fighting for several minutes inside the Winnebago. I kept rolling each round to see if they hit something, but the rolls kept coming up double-zero. They just lucked out for a long, long time.
Okay, more fun and games.
Big Dave had a counterpart named Tim. We never knew his last name, never really wanted to. The guy was 25 and still had a pizza face. He also had the common sense of a dung beetle. With Tim came Mike. Mike was from a rich black family, but he tried to act "street" every so often, even though he wore polo shirts and Coke-bottle glasses. Together, these three formed what we named "The Knobs" (no offense, bonK). Mainly because they were dumber than a box of doorknobs.
So this is my tribute to Knob #2, Pizza-Faced Tim.
Vampire campaign, fall 1991. Brother Elliot running, me playing my first PC in ages. The group is small, just me, two regular people with brains, Mike and Tim. Dave had yet to appear in our group, so Mike and Tim were the Knob contingent at the time. Tim is playing a Toreador, but he knows nothing about art, music, theater, movies or anything else. He also doesn't act like a Toreador, he acts like a bum on crystal meth. He just kind of sits there and stares most of the time.
So we're being led through the "transformation cycle" of becoming vampires and all that. He shits a bunch of fat and miscellaneous body parts, and after he does, he looks at his sire and says, "Uh, why'd I do that?"
"Your body is dying and it is getting rid of things you won't need anymore."
"Uh...okay. Thanks a lot."
So somewhere along the line, Tim tries to go hunting for someone to feed on and he fucks up. He ends up drinking off another vampire to the point where he almost kills him. Tim forgot that vampires have to feed, and he basically let it slip for a week or so. So he nearly kills this other vampire, and he gets busted by one of the Nosferatu, who tells him that he better watch his step, because that kind of shit is a big fucking no-no.
So Tim doesn't get paranoid, he gets stupid.
Instead of doing something smart like starting to check for pulses or whatever, he decides to unleash this one on us the next time he needed to feed.
"Okay, so I'm gonna head home early."
"Right. So after Tim leaves..."
"Uh..but on the way home..."
"Yes?"
"I stop at a pet store."
"Okay. Why?"
"Uh, I don't feel like getting busted, so I figure I'll feed off animals."
"Rrrrrrrrrighhhht. Okay."
"So I pick up a brick or something and I bash in the window of the pet store."
"Alarms start going off."
"Uh...oh. I never thought of that. Anyway, I grab two puppies and run."
"Okay. So you get home without getting busted, just to hurry this shit along."
"How many points will I get from a puppy?"
"Blood points? Two."
"Uh...okay. I only need two, so I drain the one, and then I put the other one in the freezer for later."
The room went dead silent as we all stared at him in horror.
"What? I'm gonna feed off him later."
It never occurred to him that the puppy would be just fine wandering around the apartment. He couldn't understand why he lost two Humanity points for that, either.
The character later was killed in the next semester when one of the other PC's decided to go rogue and take most of us out. I was safe because he and I considered each other 'brothers' since we were turned into vampires at the same time, and were the same Clan. So the character (Jordan) sees Tim trying to steal a delivery truck. He was doing this because I told him to steal one, and I figured he would have the minimum competence to get it done. Jordan jumps off the fire escape of the building next to the truck, down onto the truck, then hops down and whacks off Tim's head with a katana.
"Okay, Jordan. So you attack Tim?"
"Yep."
"Heart-stabbage or Head-loppage?"
"Ah...fuck it, it's Tim. Off with his fucking head."
"Roll. YOu need five successes. Tim, roll your Dodge."
"Uh...I got no successes and two ones."
"Jordan?"
"Still counting....Fif..no, Seventeen successes."
"Seventeen?"
"I had a lot of tens to re-roll."
"Okay, I'm not even going to have you roll damage on that. Tim, Jordan hops down off the top of the truck and cuts off your head."
"Oh...uh...okay. Does that mean I'm dead?"
Again, silence fills the room.
Amber Campaign, winter 1994.
So our friend Paul (not Brother Paul) decides to run an Amber game. He's read all the books, has a great story in mind. However, the story was not to be, because he decided to hinge a lot of the storyline on Tim's character. Why? We, to this day, still do not know. Character introduction.
My character is a combination of a dictator and a Droog from Clockwork Orange. Elliot is playing a sort of Rennaissance warrior-wizard type. In walks Tim's character. Full suit of armor, shiny sword.
"Uh...Hi. Who are you guys?"
"Murdock."
"El Tropo."
"Oh. Uh...I'm Sir Lancelot."
Something just snapped, and for some reason, we just couldn't help ourselves.
"Paul, I smack him in the face with my walking stick."
"Okay."
"I'm first in Strength."
Paul winces. "Tim, what's your Endurance?"
"Uh... I didn't put any points in it. I didn't think it was important."
Elliot raises his hand, Arnold Horshack-style and says, "I'm second in Strength! I run over and kick him while he's down!"
So this continues through most of the game. Every time Tim said his name or something idiotic, we would run over and beat the shit out of him. It got to the point where if he said something dumb, someone would Trump (i.e. Gate) us in so we could beat his ass.
So we meet up with the big bad guy. He's dressed as a pirate, and he's supposed to be dead for the past fifty years (for those of you familiar with the Amber series, yes, it was Caine). Tim says, "Hey, nice hat. You get that at Long John Silver's?"
We immediately run over and start beating the shit out of his character. Caine looks at us and says, "Hey, do you guys mind?"
"Oh, no. Not at all. Continue with whatever you were going to say, we'll be done here in a minute."
This experience taught him NOTHING.
Vampire Campaign, Fall 1995.
Tim has decided to have a vendetta against fellow Knob, Mike. Mike is sleeping with the enemy, and somehow Tim has found out. Mike attempts to threaten Tim by planting several bricks of C4 in his home. However, he forgets one small thing: the detonators. He tries to set off the C4 by lighting it on fire. Tim is at least smarter than this, and when he finds a bunch of melted plastic oozing out of his bathroom, he figures something is up. He puts out the fire and finds the rest of the C4. Meanwhile, Knob Mike is shouting that "it's an explosive! The fire should have made it blow up!" Tim makes a deal with another character and manages to get two more bricks and a couple of detonators.
"Okay, so I wait for Mike to go into the building, and I plant the C4 right next to the engine and the gas tank. Then I put the remotes on the detonators."
"Are you going to blow them now?"
"No, I wait for him to come out. I want him to see this."
Eventually, Mike gets done with what he has to do.
"Mike, you come out of the building. You see Tim standing next to your van. He has something in his hand, but you don't know what it is."
"I whip out my MAC-10 and spray him."
"Uh...I... dive for cover and hit the button."
"Where are you diving for cover at?"
"I dive under the van."
Someone actually spit cola across the room when he did that.
Shadowrun, Winter 1996.
Tim's last campaign with us. This entire game has been a travesty like you wouldn't believe. However, none of the PC's has managed to get killed, although they did lose most of their equipment, three vehicles (two of which they managed to destroy themselves with rockets because they failed to remember where they parked) and they managed to get an entire gang pissed at them because they forced the Decker who hired them for bodyguards to try to break through some Black IC, and he died in the process. Why? Tim and Mike thought it would be a good idea to super-glue his datajack in place so he couldn't jack out in an emergency. "We don't want him wasting our money."
So the team consists mainly of The Knobs and two other guys at this point. Brother Elliot has abandoned the game out of some kind of survival instinct. So they need to break into a building. A rather large building. A rather large steel and glass building. So they decide that the easiest way to do this is to fire grappling guns up to the roof from the building across the street, go down to the street level and climb all the way the fuck up 20 floors to the roof and then bust in through the roof stairway. Now, I really had to wonder who wasn't going to notice a Troll, an Orc and a Human climbing up the side of a building at four in the afternoon. Why four in the afternoon? They wanted to get an early start because "it's gonna be a long climb up there."
Dave is in the lead, then Tim with Mike and the other two unfortunate souls (who didn't know any better and were convinced that these three asshats were "experienced players") behind Mike.
They've been climbing for about two hours, and I figured I'd have them make a roll to see how their arms and backs were holding out. Everyone makes it except Tim.
"Okay, Tim, your arms are starting to get a little achy and tired."
"Oh, okay. So I stop and rest for a second."
"What do you mean you stop and rest for a second? You're holding onto a rope on the side of a building."
"Oh, yeah. So then I'll let go of the rope and let everyone go past me."
The look of horror on the two non-knob guys was amazing.
As a side note, Dave managed to make it all the way up to the roof, where the corp security were waiting with Vindicator miniguns. Why? Because everyone could see them walking up the fucking building from the inside.
That and when the Trauma Team showed up because Mike and Tim's Doc Wagon bracelets went off from them falling 15 floors to the sidewalk.
And don't say "way back in 1998." It's not like it's ancient history like 1975 or something. Have a little consideration for us "silverheads."
Internet time runs different than real time. 1998 is ancient internet history my friend.
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I left when Bulldrek on Dumpshock got closed - I didn't play Shadowrun then and the general chat in Bulldrek was why I was there.
Kinda like what happened in G&T. <_<
I would think that, combined with the cow catapault in The Holy Grail, would probably serve as the main inspiration for that.
I really should hanging out there again..
I miss Bull and Adam and the others.
Gotta love SMITE(tm) as well. A 665D targeted shot: Left Testicle from God.
I don't have very many stories like that. Except for one guy in Shadowrun. Decided he wanted Betaware at character creation and with the secondhand cyber rules he could get it. Dude falls from the monorail and decides to stop his fall be punching his cyberfist into the support structure. Good idea. he rolls, he punches, he lives.
GM rolls stress test for the secondhand part. Arm breaks off and poor guy continues falling.
We weren't stupid or anything just bad rolls and the fact that he bought second hand goods which were manufactured for someone else's body.