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Gaming Stories: The Worst Ever

By Shamus
on Friday Jan 4, 2008
Filed under:
Tabletop Games


Today I posted a bonus feature on Chainmail Bikini describing the writing process. In there, I talk about how hard it is to find good gaming stories of bad gaming. I’ve exhausted a lot of the stories relating to my own experience playing tabletop games, and now I rely on the misfortune of others to provide the fodder my our gaming comic.

I just realized that I could pull a Scott Adams and solicit anecdotes from readers. That might be fun, and if nothing else it might be therapeutic for the victims to share their experinces with everyone else. (So we can point and laugh.)

So how about it? What’s the worst single event you’ve ever endured / witnessed at the gaming table?

Comments (200)

1 2 3 4

  1. Hanov3r says:

    Guy said:

    we are playing a post-apocalyptic RPG named Gamma World

    Oooooh, I love Gamma World. Haven’t played since… um… first edition, actually, but it’s a fun game system.

  2. Mari says:

    I have a couple for you.

    First would be a fairly recent game. D&D 3.5, for what it’s worth. And I’m tattling on myself as much as anybody else here. It’s early in the game, 2nd level PCs or so, and we’re fighting were-rats in their nasty little warren. So basically a glorified dungeon crawl. Our GM is a very experienced RPer, as am I. The other three players not so much. Two played a little fifteen years ago and one has never played before. I’m playing a paladin, a real “stick up her behind” sort of paladin. The totally inexperienced gamer is playing a sorceress.

    We clear out a big room full of rats and start looting. The obvious loot would be the big suit of full-plate standing in the room like a museum display…or a shrine. Being the experienced one, I quickly tell everyone not to touch it until the sorceress has a look at the magics on it. I smell a trap. The GM informs the sorceress that it reeks of necromantic magic but he tells her this in secret. The next thing I know, she reaches out and touches the thing and it…comes to life. As it stalks out of the room filled with a Death Knight, I demand to know why she touched it. “Well, he said it was just necromancy and I figured that was probably from the last guy who wore it.”

    Being a paladin, though, I couldn’t let a Death Knight go wandering about the countryside. So my pitiful second level self challenges him. I attack. I do no damage. Duh. I didn’t even expect to, but a paladin with a stick up her rump isn’t about to let a little thing like survival get in the way of her moral code, right? The thing stops and tells me to go away, that he has a quest to complete. Yeah, I’d love to but moral code, guy. So I attack again to little effect. And then he decides to swat me like the annoying fly that I am. That’s pretty much the last thing the paladin sees for a while since I’m the only PC with any healing ability and I’m at -9 HP.

    That probably would have ended in tears after I healed up except before I had a chance to do anything after regaining consciousness we were sucked into the mists of Ravenloft. Ravenloft was where that nice paladin with the moral code destroyed an orphanage and was indirectly responsible for the deaths of a dozen or so orphans. After that all the players in the group asked me weekly if I’d blown up any orphanages lately.

    Second story:
    This time I’m the GM. I don’t particularly care for GMing, but sometimes you just gotta do it because nobody else will. My main objection to GMing is that I’m not so great at coming up with cohesive plots. So instead of entirely original material, I’d decided to adapt a couple of modules. Since neither of my players was terribly experienced I figured I could borrow some elements from some well-known plots (like the Sunless Citadel) and it would work out fine. Of course, I wasn’t running it exactly as written.

    Anyway, my players have made it to an ante-chamber inhabited by a mid-level bad guy. I’d noticed the last session that they were doing MUCH better than they should have against the enemies I was throwing them so I decided for this confrontation, I needed to buff up the bad. I made him three levels higher, which not only gave him more HP, but also more and better spells. I was seriously excited. A couple of second level players should have a hard but not impossible time against a sixth level cleric, right? So he comes tearing out and the PCs declare an attack. And they one-hit-kill him. One hit. Bam. My NPC is dead. He imparts no information to them, which I wanted him to have a chance to do. He casts no spells but his armor spell before he entered the room. Nothing. Just….dead. Thanks, guys. I could have fudged and kept him going, but I’ve always hated GMs who do that.

    Third story: (short and not really much of a “gaming” story) Same game that I’m GMing. As I mentioned, my two players range from “first timer” to “pretty inexperienced.” But they’re eager and interested. Interested enough that one of them has taken to listening to “Fear the Boot” podcasts. Yeah, did I mention that I’m stealing bits of plot from the Sunless Citadel module? Anybody remember a while back on that FtB podcast when they were talking about modules and Sunless Citadel comes up and one of the hosts (can’t remember who but I think it was Adam) suddenly shouts out “It’s a tree! The big bad is a TREE!” I was sitting right next to one of my players as this is shouted, knowing that I’ve changed the tree up some and it’s not THE big bad anymore, but he just handed my player a big chunk of what was supposed to be a slowly unraveling mystery.

  3. bigkr says:

    So, here’s a few choice stories out of my current character, an eberron halfling that were he in dragonlance, would be a Kender.

    as some prefacing, here’s some background

    Said halfling had a pet dinosaur (Talenta halfling, it was his first mount, very nice), a pet velociraptor who was at that point awakened and had a better int than the halfling, and a 10 man squad of warforged mercernaries that he had hired. The party had generally been a bit concerned about the halfling’s squad of bodyguards, but after the first time the BBEG’s organization (emerald claw for those of you who know eberron) sent 40 men to take our party of 4 down, they were happy to have the squad as bodyguards. To the point where I assigned two warforged to each member of the group as personal bodyguards, and another 2 to my dinosaurs.

    Funny story number 1)
    Our Artificer meets up with a fellow artificer who has a secret lab outside the city we had been staying in. keyword concerning that lab: SECRET. anyways, our artificer is allowed to use the lab, as long as she doesn’t share its location. So, after walking out of town followed by 2 huge warforged, she has them standing OUTSIDE the secret lab, while she goes in and works, and then has them stay at the lab standing outside while she goes back to town to get some sleep. when my halfling found out, he used his tracking skills he had a hilariously low modifier for and rolled for a total of 8, which was enough to track a pair of giant warforged through the jungle to the secret lab. So much for the secret lab.

    Funny story number 2, and the reason why there arne’t more stories of my halfling and his A-team of warforged.

    So, searching this ancient temple, i leave 8 warforged and one of my pet dinosaurs to guard our mules and our other camping equipment. the two we brought with us i was training to act as corporals in the squad, since the halfling was for all intents and purposes the sergeant. Well, through a bit of an unfortunate twist of fate, we end up on a pocket plane within the plane of Shadows. One 3-day trip through the pocket plane later, we end up on the plane of light, and subsequently meet up with a demigod. Demigod speaks in riddles, for a bit, and hints at us finding death when the demigod transports us back to the temple. Here’s the conversation that follows.

    Me: Oh, that just means my squad got in a tussle with some monster and kicked its butt, maybe we lost a mule or two.
    DM: No… your squad is dead.
    Me: …. *eyes widen* What?
    DM: Yep… sorry.
    Me: Who did it?
    DM: Emerald Claw. They didn’t like you spelling out ‘HAHA’ with the bodies of the last 40 men they sent at the party.
    Me: But… but… they can be raised, can’t they?
    DM: yeah… that artifact you were looking for? they were cannibalized for parts to repair it.
    Me: *eyes tearing up* my dinosaur? is he alright?
    DM: Yeah… also dead… on a side note, none of the mules are!
    Me: Well… he couldn’t be used for anything… probably took a good bite out of a few of those emerald claw…
    DM: Acutally, they made steaks out of him.
    Me: *Head hits the table*

    At the very least, I ended up singlehandedly killing off about 50 claws and finished off their leader in the subsequent fighting.

  4. gottasing says:

    Way back in the days of AD&D, I was GMing my first game. From experiences I had as a player, I knew I didn’t ever want to tell the players “no, you can’t do that”, because that’s frustrating. So I’d find creative ways to let them do whatever they wanted.

    Me: You see a shimmering golden ring
    Clueless player: I put it on! Can I fly?
    Me: Are you trying to fly?
    Clueless player: Yes, I climb to the top of the stairs and jump off!
    Me: (rolling dice). You take 56 points of falling damage.
    Clueless player: Medic!


    Me: You see a shimmering golden ring.
    Clueless player: I put it on! Can I breathe underwater?
    Me: Are you trying to breathe underwater?
    Clueless player: Yes, I stick my head in the bucket and breathe in…
    Me: (rolling dice) Ok, tell me how long you’re going to try this…
    Clueless player: **gurgle**

    Good times with slow learners.

  5. Gahaz says:

    Someone up there asked if I was just thinking of “Mazes and Monsters” and no, I have never had anything to do with a character named Purdue. Nor was he crazy, he was on drugs.

  6. guy says:

    Mari’s second story is immpressive. i guess you used death by massive damage or instant death rules that campaign.

  7. J says:


    Please don’t take this the wrong way, but the first thing that popped into my mind after reading your story is:

    “Hey! No LARPing!”

  8. Davesnot says:

    I remember a classic… I was playing a thief.. we were.. oh.. some mid-level or something.. well.. we had finished the big event that we’d been building up to… came back to Waterdeep with the haul… and then everyone wanted to go do town things.. problem was we handn’t fenced the loot yet.. I said my character would be happy to go take care of it.. I said it tounge in cheek.. but they said ok… I looked at the DM.. he shook his head slightly and smiled..

    DM passes me a note .. we had some huge total.. like 80,000 gps or something.. I said, “Wow.. we got 30,000gps for all that stuff!” (the amounts are lost to my memory.. but the percentage is close).. everybody was happy with that total.. especially my thief… I felt.. well.. I felt like a thief.. worst part was.. I couldn’t tell anyone about it… even being a thief..

    Come on guys.. don’t let the thief pawn the goods alone!

  9. Windblade says:

    I have two, largely of the same nature, and both wit the same GM (after the second case I’ve carefully avoided his games

    The first was in the ‘darksun’ D&D universe, my first (and only) game in that universe. I roll up a female rogue. through various means, the entire party (who haven’t met yet) are made slaves to the Evil overlord (or at least one of his barons) after surviving a riot (actually an attempt by the baron to assassinate the BBEG) one of the party, a half ogre, is promoted to baron and the rest of the party are his property. Deciding that a rogue is useless, the player decides I’ll be eyecandy, and the GM goes into an uncomfortable amount of detail about the two leather straps I’m now wearing.

    The second was d20 star wars where I played a female scout. one of the players had min/maxed the piloting score on his force sensitive scoundrel, and had convinced the GM to run a pod racing session. (while the event was tied into the main plot by a last minute of the session aside from the gm, the race meet seemed to be pretty much just set up so this player could show off and earn a ton of cash) As my scout was a decent pilto and a bit of a thrillseeker, I joined in. Unfortunately, the dice were not in my favor, and while the other character walked away with an insane amount of cash, a badly times 1 had caused me to crash my borrowed pod, and put me in sever debt. the debtor decided they owned, and I was sold into slavery.

    The following session was a voctory party for the min/maxed character (with the opportunity to make a contact to forward the main plot) whilst I was used as a serving girl in a tissue paper bikini with my hands restrained so I could ‘defend myself’. The evening ended 9after a lot of painful moments) with me being stripped naked, and marched off to be sold again. It was only then the min/maxed player did anything, buying me from the auction, but making clear I was very much his property

  10. freddyboomboom says:

    So we’re playing Shadowrun, and the party was doing a meeting in Sea-Tac airport…

    We get jumped by three different groups, and we’re behind any cover we can find, and the cops are coming, too.

    First couple of guys are shooting, laying out smoke grenades, etc.

    My turn comes up and I say to the GM, “you said the wall behind us was glass? Ok, then I empty my SMG’s magazine into it, jump out, and run like Hell.”

    Everybody else looks at each other, and says “we follow him!”

  11. Davesnot says:

    I have a friend that played in a first-ed game where they had needed to know the damage of a pair of chopsticks.. the DM looked it up (or fudged it) and came up with a d4.. so.. this guy makes a mace out of gobs of these chopsticks and then starts doing a d100 damage per hit.. and the DM let it happen.. these guys quit the game because the rules were so “messed up”.. of course.. they had been the ones that bastardized them so much… go figure.

  12. StereotypeA says:

    The game was Werewolf: The Apocalypse. My friend and I had crafted two brother characters, taking great care to give them each a detailed backstory and motivation and everything.

    It was the first play session of the chronicle and I had to miss it for some reason. So my idiot friend plays without his “big brother” to watch his back. He comes across a bunch of children’s bones and decides to do what any normal person would do: Stage a puppet show with them and try to craft a suit of armor.

    Another player’s half-insane fomori werewolf in Crinos form comes across my friend desecrating these bones and kind of flips out. The Storyteller asks said player: “Do you want to thrall (or something like that)?” The player, not knowing what this means, shrugs and says “Yeah, sure.”

    His character then proceeds to RAPE MY FRIEND’S CHARACTER TO DEATH.

    Yeah, that was fun when I saw him on Monday at school.

    “Sorry I couldn’t make it on Friday, anything exciting happen?”

    “Well uh…”

  13. Thpbltblt says:

    The first game I’ve played in a long time is D&D 3.5, and our group has been together for about seven months or so. My fiance plays a half-elven ranger, and we were investigating a small hill in the middle of a clearing in the forest. Some kobolds had taken up residence, and we were determined to eradicate them and figure out why they liked this hill so much. During the fight, Castalia made an attempt to penetrate the thick undergrowth surrounding the base of the hill. “Roll a dex check, please.” No problem, except that she rolled really poorly. It was a 1 or a 2, I think. “You stumble, and fall face first into something wet, squishy, and absolutely foul.” Turns out the kobolds were part of some dragon cult, and they were doing something with the corpse of a metallic dragon. That’s what the hill was. Anyway, we didn’t let Castalia live it down. It took her until the next session to get to an inn, take a bath, and then go shopping for new studded leather.

  14. Jessie says:

    Well, I haven’t played much D&D (although I loved what I have played), but at the recent International D&D Day, or whatever it was called, I got into a random game when I went to go look through the local comic store.

    The DM was good, but sort of silly, making us specify which way we were opening the doors.

    Player: I open the door.
    DM: How?
    Player: … I push it open.
    DM: It doesn’t work.
    Player: I thought you said it wasn’t locked.
    DM: It’s a pull door.

    After one or two doors like that, we started asking if it was a pull door or a push door.

    But at the end of the adventure, after destroying the mirror images of our villain, the bad guy turned himself invisible and began to sneak around. After a few turns of listen checks and “detect magic” and such, and not really accomplishing much, this is what happened:

    DM: (rolling dice) CRAP.
    Player: What? What did you do?
    DM: Uh. Well, you know this big pit over here? You all hear a very loud thud from the pit, and you see a dead body at the bottom.
    Player: You failed a climb check, didn’t you?
    DM: …yes.

    I’m pretty sure we weren’t supposed to win that way.

  15. BrikZ says:

    This was a while ago in a gaming group that I ran, and shows how players with good roleplaying, and lucky die rolls can leave a permanent impression on a gameing world.

    The players need to cross this valley which is heavy guarded by orcs, no real problem there, they have some decent stealthers, and they should have been able to sneak around or though with only minor instances.

    Well, the campaign was taking place in a Norse heavy setting, and the party had just picked up a priest of Thor, who had all the greatest qualities (and failings) of a true zealot. The party leader was an aspiring paladin, high on conviction, short on patience, rather typical accually. Neither of whom would just sit idly by and let such an area remain without their ah… considerable presence.

    So, the stealthier character’s do their own bit of recon, and find that, yes, the Orcs in the valley were to numerous, well placed, and dug in for the party to just route out. There were more than enough mini-adventures during this recon, including a discovery on the hygienic properties of Orcs en masse.

    So where stealth comes back with nothing positive, and PC’s feel overwhelmed, the player’s gears naturally start turning. Well, for once the players decide on a diplomatic approach, in their own particular idiom of course.

    So marching forward into the valley, priest and wanna-be paladin in front, they meet with the Orcs, some resistance follows, but several diplomatic rolls, and good role-plays later, they find themselves, still in one piece, and in front of the Orc Cheiften, and of course his own lead shaman.

    Well put two religious zealots together, the Thor Priest, and the Orcish shaman, and sparks are bound to fly. Well, they do, and both end up denouncing each other and their paltry gods. More sparks fly, Orcs and players are wounded. and all looks to be a loss.

    Well, above the tide of battle, which by now is long passed being just threatening to the party; A call to champions is issued by the paladin. May the orish champion of thier god come fourth, and challange he who speaks for Thor, himself of course.

    Well, a hastily scrawled orcish champion later, the meanest, largest, ugliest, orc steps forward. Easily brandishing weapons that will crush this so called champion. The shaman quickly blesses off on the even, with the utmost faith in his champion, myself, the DM even felt a little cocky about the orcish monstrosity that I had quickly rolled up.

    Well a few melee rounds later, the champion lies dead, the shamen leaps up, casts a few spells, but is defeated just as quickly. The stunned orcs, and dm, quickly submit to the will of Thor as being far more powerful than their present god. The priest decides a few days to stay and teach the basic tenants of the faith is a good idea, and despite some dispute, the orcs are rapidly converted.

    A short time later, the party leaves a now friendly and converted gaggle of orcs behind them.

    The valley of orcs dedicated to Thor is now a permanent fixture in my game world, and parties still run across it from time to time.

  16. Jeff says:

    Your level 6 cleric died ’cause he was over confident, and (by your retelling) charged before he prepared himself.
    Otherwise he could have set up all sorts of buffs.

    All in all, it seems the story went very well… overconfident bad guy falls to the heroes, heh. Cinematic. :P

  17. The Glen says:

    Which system? I’ve played so many of them.

    Cyberpunk players attacking tanks with smgs. When the tank nearly cuts one in half he’s screaming for the medtech to come and get him. Medtech raises his head over the trench just to shout back “No!”

    Veteran Deadlands players realizing early to shoot every corpse in the head and dynamite every well. Players were relieved to know at one point the corpses they shot in the head were only zombies.

    Twilight 2000 characters deciding to not let the Coastie with demolitions 8 disarm the bomb because they were special forces. Special forces with demolition 2, but special forces none-the-less. After that, more none than less.

    Streetfighter game where all the characters playing superspies forgot to a player to put points in computer skills.

    Vampires not realizing the heavily armed group of people wearing crosses and thermographic goggles just might mean to do them harm.

    7th Sea player challenging the veteran army sapper to a duel, only to get have the sapper accept the duel with the answer ‘Pistols. Here. Now.’

    Got tons more, but don’t want to spam.

  18. Log082 says:

    I’ve been reading for about a month now, though this is my first post. When I saw the topic, however, I just had to join in…

    First, a bit of background on our game: We’re all college students, with everything that implies, and two of us (one of which was me) were first time players. Our first few sessions were more or less improvised by our DM, as he had little time to plan due to course load. Our party consisted of two lawful neutral monks, a chaotic neutral cleric, and my character, a chaotic good warlock. For our first session, we all started out in a small town, where we were hired by a somewhat shady wizard to retrieve an artifact from the King’s vault. The King, for the record, was a nice but weak monarch, and the government was controlled by the evil baron, who levied high taxes on the good citizens – the only reason we agreed to retrieve the artifact, since in the process we would also do a Robin Hood on the town treasury. Now that the copious back story is out of the way, on to the actual event:

    Tensions built between my character and one of the monks. They started out innocuous but amusing, such as when he rolled an (admittedly stellar) bluff check to mess with my character, or when he “stunning fist”-ed my character to settle an argument (The idea was that my character would recover shortly and rejoin the party, suitably chastised. It wasn’t HIS fault I was subsequently captured by lizardmen as I lay stunned on the ground…) After the first session, however, these tensions began to leave the realm of “amusing” and become problematic (though admittedly probably still amusing if it wasn’t happening to you…) His character (now retconned to a fighter for the sake of party balance; our DM used a three-strike rule in which this was possible without penalty) became overtly hostile, doing things like trying to get me sentenced to death in a trial for raiding the vault (He fled; I stayed behind to help and ally…) and lying about my actions to create a bad reputation with our allies. When matters came to a head and the wizard revealed himself as the BBEG of our party during the middle of my trial, raising a zombie army and attacking the town, it was so bad that I decided my character would rather attempt to escape on his own on foot then ride on the same horse as the other PC; I reasoned that the zombies MIGHT get me, but he CERTAINLY would. Well, after the rest of the party fled, they discovered they needed both me AND something else they had left behind, and decided to rescue me in the process of retrieving said object. I, meanwhile, had forted up in the bell tower of a church on the outside of town, using my unlimited eldritch blasts to good effect against the individually weak zombies. However, just as the fighter with whom I had so much discord managed to heroically fight his way up to me, the zombies climbed a pile of their own dead (er, re-dead) and knock me unconscious. The fighter saved me from death, but faced the problem of escaping off the bell tower himself; the zombies were too thick to fight his way back down. Just as I was ready to bury the hatchet in return for the rescue, he hit on a solution: use my unconscious body as a cushion when he jumped so that he could survive. As they again fled to an allied monastery where they would be safe, he took my best items for himself and threw the rest into the wilderness. Then, while the monastery raised the other monk for free, as he was a member, I was raised with a burden of a quest AND a mark forcing me to be obedient to the commands of the cleric party member three times. PLUS the level loss – significant at second level. That was my last game, but I didn’t miss much – the game dissolved due to time problems after they played only one more session…

  19. Skeeve the Impossible says:

    It’s a bidding war shamus. A bidding war

  20. Yahzi says:

    King of Tactics:

    We come crawling out of the dungeon with the quest item, a powerful staff. At the entrance we’re met by the villain. He addresses Dan, the player carrying the staff.

    “I have a master assassin hiding in the bushes. Give me the staff or he’ll one-shot you, and I’ll take it.”

    Now Dan has a choice: he can fight, or he can give up and hope to fight another day. So what does Dan do?

    He throws the staff at the villain, thus simultaneously fighting and giving up. Yes, he starts a fight by throwing the most powerful weapon the party has away.

    The Patient GM:

    The party is supposed to meet an NPC at a certain spot and time. We get there, but the NPC isn’t there yet. We really can’t advance the adventure without him.

    “Fine,” we all say, “We sit down and wait until he gets here. We don’t care how long it takes.”

    The DM says, “He’s still not here yet.”

    “OK,” we say, “We keep waiting.”

    The DM sits there, silently… for five minutes. Of Real Time. In silence.

    Then he says, “OK… he’s here now.”

  21. Cuthalion says:

    Not sure if anyone is going to bother reading a post numbered 85, but here goes…

    My first time ever playing D&D was a couple weeks ago. I shared my character concept beforehand with the DM, who was a friend of mine and the only person I knew in the group. He assured me it was doable.

    So, I get there and one guy asks “Is this the guy who was going to play the blind psionic monk?” I reply affirmatively. The players have a hilarious idea: “You should make it a gnome or a halfling.”

    So, here I am, a newbie with an absurdly complicated character: blind, deaf, halfling psion telepath.

    It’s bad enough being new and trying to play such a character, but I underestimated the role-playing difficulty created by relying on a split-personality megalomaniac/smoldering-fury (+4 intimidate, -2 diplomacy) psicrystal (which the DM decided to let me have leveled up so that I had a telepathic link with it) in order to see or hear anything.

    I ended up trying to be comedic value. Holding up mirrors at people and grinning, casting/manifesting missive to tell people to burn stuff down, getting tied to the bow of an airship and attacking random birds with a sickle, etc.

    Hopefully, I was funny enough to keep my first role-playing experience from being their worst. I thank them for putting up with me and laughing at my character’s (and my own) utter cluelessness.

  22. Thunderzork says:

    Hmmm. Seems like a lot of folks are relating in-game stories. How about some RL for a change of pace…

    Played with a group of friends for several years where each of us takes turns being the DM. Each of us has their own style and ‘house rules’ so it breaks up the monotony.

    We show up for our standard 8 hour monthly game session and discover… A new player! ‘A’ has convinced DM to let Girlfriend (GF) join the game!. DM consented, *without consulting anyone else* because he’s the current DM, it’s his game and he can ask anyone he wants to play and that’s part of his rules. Plus, ‘she already knows how to play.’

    Well, DM is pretty damn good DM so… OK, sure whatever. So… Game on!

    Well, no.

    GF doesn’t have a character so we have to wait while DM chews up the entire session getting GF rolled up into a new character with background, full equipment, etc. And, oh-by-the-way, ‘A’ (the boyfriend) is nowhere around.

    The following is pretty close to the actual events that happened that night – I don’t remember the exact words but it pretty much went like this:

    Setting: B’s house.
    Time: About 6 hours into GF’s character build
    Cast: Me, B, C, and D, watching some bullshit on TV. DM and GF at the dining room table, laughing, rolling dice, etc.

    Me gets up and walks into the dining room.

    Me (bored and pissed): ‘Are you two done? Why didn’t you do this during the week?’

    DM (irritated): ‘Relax. We’re almost done…’

    Me (pissed-ter): ‘Where’s A?’

    DM (not making eye contact): ‘Oh, uh, he had to work late.’

    GF (all bubbley and shit): ‘Yeah, he said since I had to make up my person he was just going to work late and come pick me up when we’re done.’

    DM (nervous): ‘Hey, we’re almost done here. We can still get in some game time…’

    Me (sotto voice): ‘make… up… my… person?’

    DM (*really* nervous): ‘Give me 5 more minutes here…’

    Me (*really* pissed): ‘Did you just say “make up my person?”‘

    GF (dumb-as-a-box-of-rocks-bubbley): ‘Yeah! This is fun! I’ve never played this game before!’

    DM (quickly): ‘Yeah, let’s finish equipping your charact…’

    C: ‘WTF did she just say!?’

    D: ‘That’s it, I’m out.’

    Me: ‘Me too’

    DM: ‘Wait! We’re almost done!’

    We all leave. DM finishes up and leaves. Foreshadowing: B and GF are now *alone*, in B’s house, waiting for A to show up.

    Extra Credit: Describe what happened while B and GF were waiting for A, in 10 words or less.

    Next gaming session A and GF show up and announce their wedding. Hey, that’s great! Good Lucks and Handshakes all around. Game is pretty much forgotten. Beers break out. Strip club ensues. Hangovers to come later…

    A couple of months later: A and GF get married. B is the best man. Much more beers, some strip clubs. And, due to different circumstances, gaming group pretty much falls apart. All keep in touch. No hard feelings…

    A few months after that: A and GF have a baby. More beers, less strip clubs. Hmmm… A is blond. GF is blond. Baby is NOT blond. Who else do we know that is not blond?

    A few months after that: GF(blond) leaves A(blond) and runs off with B(not blond), leaving A(blond) with the baby(not blonde). No beers, no strip clubs.

    Extra, EXTRA Credit: What was the period of time between that first, disastrous gaming session and blessed event of the arrival of baby (not blond)?
    A. 3 months
    B. 6 months
    C. 9 months
    D. 12 months
    If you guessed C. 9 months, you are correct!.

    The sad thing is that the rest of us pretty much haven’t done ANY gaming since this happened. I don’t know, I guess it just left a bad taste…

  23. Gahaz says:

    For J,

    AH HAHA HAH AHAH….*breath* ah ha haah ha…*breath*

    That was good…

  24. Cipher says:

    We were playing d&d at a friends basement, I was the Dm at that time and had some special boss fight prepared for the night. Just as I introduced the spooky scene in a misty swamp, where poor villagers were nailed to fallen trunks, crying in agony and the evil black dragon just waiting for the PCs to approach, the telefone rang..
    My friend picks up the phone: “Mum, what IS IT?”
    then, asking us: “hey, does anyone use e-plus (a german cell phone provider)?”
    Another player, lightly irritated: “errr, well, me.”
    “do you have connectivity down here?”
    “eerrr, let me check.. no”
    hangs up..
    The scene was sorta ruined, but a couple of years later, we still remember it, because it was the one perfectly timed atmosphere killer, and even unintentional.

  25. Mrs T says:

    Story the fourth: My current game, D&D 3.5. I’m playing a 17 year old 2nd level cloistered cleric who had never intended to be an adventurer until her deity set her on a quest. We encounter a Shadow, and my cleric attempts to turn it. I roll a 2, so we interpret it as her being terrified at her first sight of an undead creature and stuttering out “In the n-name of–of Oghma–I c-c-command you…” etc.

    Next up is the dwarven swashbuckler. The player announces to the DM “I see what she’s trying to do… it just needs more style.” So he brandishes a piece of jewellery and repeats what the cleric had just said, and rolls a 20 to bluff.

    The DM considered for a moment, and decided that since it was not a mindless undead, it could be bluffed. It completely failed its ‘sense motive’ roll, and turned and fled.

    As players, we collectively agreed that it was the coolest thing ever, and when we got back to town, the swashbuckler bought his own holy symbol in case he gets a chance to try it again.

  26. Eledriel says:

    Ooooh, Pandora’s box… I’m playing for more than 20 years now.

    With that theme, I could write books, if I wouldn’t been too lazy for that.

    Some short ones:
    Cyberpunk 2020:

    Two Heros must escape through the infectioning, highly chemically and biologally wasted sewers of a big city.
    It’s dark. They must go in line for not falling into the “water”.
    DM (myself) described for their cybereyes an genetically enhanced crocodile, living in the sewers. The player last in the walking line shouts: “I draw my pistol (The biggest one available; makes holes in motorblocks; can only be shooted with by cyberarms) and shoot.”
    DM: “Ok, I see, damage is too much; the crocodile dies. Does everyone have cyberears?”
    Player first in line: “ehh, no…?”
    DM: “OK, your partner shoots near your ear,
    in a tunnel, with THAT pistol.
    A HUGE Tinitus.
    Any questions?”

    It became a running gag for a year. Everytime the player didn’t expect it, I made the sound.

    2) Again CP 2020
    A kind of detective story, I stole from the old british TV-Show “The Avengers”.

    Some dominant CEOs from stocklisted Companies get murdered. The PC’s got hired to find the killer. The Killer is a millionaire stocktrader, working at Wall street, NY. With Stockoptions he “bed”, that the prizes for the stocks of the comapanies with the soon to be murdered CEOs will fall in the next 3 months. Then he send some killers to him. As soon, the killers had succseeded, or even when not, he earns money. Police never could find a clue.

    The players didn’t get it for a too long time and were always looking for the murderer within the family of the killed CEO.
    Mercyful I gave them after a time enough tips to solve the problem.

    Annoyed they nag at me, because I studied Business Administration and they didn’t had any clues about that profession.

    I answered them: “What were you doing EVERYTIME, when you have a problem, where you don’t know anything about that.”
    “We hire an consultant or ask an expert.”
    Me: “… and why didn’t you do that in all the time here?”

    3) Again CP 2020
    We wre a streetgang, I played an Solo-bodyguard, who got too many shots at the head and too many cyberware inside his body to stay normal. The other players (!) gave me my streetname I got “famous” with: Psycho.
    A good friend of mine played the boss of that streetgang.

    Situation: An “Mr. Johnson” wanted to establish a longer deal with our streetgang. He provided us with weapons, money etc. and in return we solve all his problems without any strings leading back to him. As contacting officer he introduced a German Solo to us with the name “Hans”. My character loved German Weapons (Mauser, Heckler & Koch etc.) and tried to make a little conservation with that guy.
    Me: “You come from Germany?”
    DM: He looks disgusted and arrogant at you.
    Me upsetted: “I draw my H&K and touch his chin with the proper end.”
    That NPC didn’t have any chances, my character was build to be faster than Lucky Luke and his shadow.
    Me: “…and?” to Hans
    DM: He looks even more arrogant.
    Me: “Ok, I blow his head of. The whole mag. Until there is nothing there anymore.”
    DM shocked: That Johnson go to your boss (another player).
    “Hh-ee-e can’t do this. W-e can’t make business like that. When you want to work with me, that maniac must get killed!”
    Me from a few meters shouting to my streetgang minions/henchman: “Put that garbage here away, pronto.”
    DM to my boss: “I insist: No deals, until that man is gone.”
    My boss shrugged with his shoulders: “Then don’t send us amateurs. With an professional that never would have happened.” and walked away.

    After the session we went to an pub and with a few drinks our DM told us, that I killed with Hans a long, intelligent designed campaign and work for more than a month, he never can use with this group anymore.

  27. Vegedus says:

    On the topic of worst events, was another player cheating. It almost figures how that went down.

    GM: “Roll to hit”.
    Player: “22”
    GM: “Huh? What did you roll on the dice?”
    Player: “11.”
    GM: “What? That’s impossible. You can’t have 11 to attack in level 2.”
    The player came with some long, confusing explanation of how his feats, weapons and race somehow generated that number. A look at his character sheet clearly showed that wasn’t the case. Cheating in roleplaying infuriates me because it’s just so utterly pointless. My own current players are actually also quite adept at bending the rules, though I’m not sure they do it consciously. Generally, whenever they hit up a rule, I need to hit up a rule to, to make sure they don’t interpret it in some other way, favorable to themselves.

    The monk of the team is fond of tumbling around enemies and attacking them in the back, which lowers the enemies AC (a house rule I guess, but I haven’t found any fitting official ruling on this). He once asked if the ground was slippery, and said yes. “Okay, then I get a 2+ to my tumble check!”. Perplexed as to how difficult terrain would *help* you tumble, I hit it up later and found that the *DC* got a +2.

    One of the older players has an Player’s Guide v. 3.0, and no 3.5, and while the base rules are the same, there are some rather important balancing changes. He was once able to pretty much take out 90% of an ancient spider lair all by himself, simply by casting greater invisibility and hacking away. That’s around 30 large and huge spiders, plus 1 colossal. According to the v 3.0, the invisibility lasted for min/per level, which was 10 minutes in his case, a damn long time. The spiders where to dumb to begin tracing his movements, and were completely defenseless during that time. In the v 3.5, as I later checked, it was turn/per level. 10 turns. That’s around 1 minute. The way he took care of the colossal one was quite great, though. The lair was actually part of a crybt, and was situated in a very, very tall room, with a stair case running all the way to the top. He ran to the top of the stairs, cast stoneskin on himself, and then jumped sword first at the collosal spider. After having taken some checks, he ended up doing some pretty nasty crits. He then ran all the way up and did it again to the clueless spider.

  28. Turbosloth says:

    Back in 2nd edition, first game of dnd i ever played, my halfling thief was on a mission along with a bunch of other characters i cant remember except that one of them was a somewhat higher lvl (he was a leftover character from the dm’s last campaign) than us warrior priest character with a sword called mr pointy. We had been hired by an NPC to help him recover a worthless trinket which held sentimental value to him, and he came with us to recover it, but halfway through the quest he died.

    At this stage the party wanted to go on, but my halfling figured he couldn’t pay us if he was dead, so stuffed if he was risking his life for no money.

    The warrior-priests response? decided i was only good for finding traps anyway, so tied me to a 10-foot pole and beat me on the ground in front of the party to set off traps


  29. guy says:

    another fun moment: i was fighting some bugbears, and i had a cloak of many things. so i hit two of them with a rowboat. Fun times, fun times. also, i have played some games where the GM intimidates the players by having the book of vile darkness behind the screen and flipping through it occasionally.

    This is the same GM who sent us up vs. the beetle horde, BTW

  30. Greg says:

    It was your latest post that reminded me of this, but it’s a conversation I watched, one player giving another a recap of what happened in a session that they missed.

    “Where did we leave off?”
    “We were just going down the steps in the temple”
    “Okay, well we went down the stairs and ended up in a long corridor that radiated evil. At the end we arrived there was a suit of armour and a helmet on a rack.”
    “So I checked for traps and found the helmet was weighing down a button, we managed to remove the armour around it and left the helmet there.”
    “The rest of the group was okay with that?”
    “Not so much, I went to check the first door along the corridor and someone took the helmet. That’s it.”
    “Then what happened?”
    “Well, then the water started pouring in under the door.”
    “Yeah, if you can call it water. There was so much crap in it that it was black and opaque, none of us really wanted to go near it.”
    “So did you run away?”
    “Nah, what sort of a friend would I be? I stayed around and helped them till most of it was cleaned up. We were bailing it out in cups and dishes and whatever came to hand by the end of the evening.”
    “Don’t we have any better items in our inventory?”
    “We had a look around, but there wasn’t a lot of time to go through the house, Tim has the keys to the garage so we couldn’t get in.”
    “I thought Tim didn’t play anymore”

    …somehow this conversation went on for almost half an hour before the guy who missed a session realised that when the player said “That’s it.” he’d got to the end of the recap – everything after that was describing the plumbing related incident that’d caused the game session to end prematurely. Admittedly I think the guy doing the recap realised he’d been misunderstood and kept it going on purpose, but there’s probably a strip or two in confusing real world and game events nonetheless :P

  31. Civilis says:

    We had a player that I will call Mark that did not play well with others. In his last game session with us, Mark had a Drow Paladin of Heironious who was a bit fanatical.

    We come in to a random town on our quest and find that the town has an interesting local sporting event. A powerful NPC fighter has set up a challenge: beat him in a fight (not to the death) and win a prize. The catch is that he’s an evil follower of Hextor, and if he wins, he permanently takes a point of Strength. Although the kingdom is generally good, this sort of thing isn’t against the local laws.

    Well, the paladin hates evil, and the paladin’s god Heironious, patron of honor and chivalry, hates Hextor, who’s basically the evil version, but still somewhat honorable. So what does Mark do? Challange the evildoer, of course. And when he wins initiative, immediately opens up with a series of Holy Smites, and when asked about using the flat of the blade, Mark says, “No, I’m going to kill the guy.”

    Honor? Law? Chivalry? Screw that! He’s evil!

  32. Joe says:

    wow… heading for triple digit posts here… Anyhow, two slightly amusing:

    First, a bunch of gamers get together, first campaign, first encounter, there are a handful of bad guys in a group in the woods. We discuss tactics. We decide that there’s too many for us to take in an open brawl, so we need to divide-and-conquer. Larry says “OK, I’ll go off in the woods and make a distraction”. Like what? “I’ll cut down a tree, the noise should get some of them to investigate, and when they do, you guys take out the ones that stay” Um, Larry, you do remember that you’re playing a druid, right?

    Other story, GM Piet is trying out a new gaming system, D&D-like, but don’t recall what it was. I do recall that it had lots of tables you would roll against that described everything that might happen in combat. Anyhow, he’s got his campaign planned out, we all roll up our characters, mine’s a mage. We do some playing, it’s fun. One of our first big fights, we’re fighting a bunch of bad guys around a tower while the BBEG watches on. After the first few rounds of combat, it’s obvious this is going to be a tough fight, and my mage has used up all his spells. At this point, my character is mostly useless.
    Me: OK, what the heck, I’ll take out my shortbow and start shooting it.
    Piet: At who?
    Me: What the heck, I’ll shoot a few a the big guy.
    Piet: Roll to hit…
    Me: 20.
    Piet: OK, that’s a critical, roll for where you hit him.
    Me: 20.
    Piet: OK, that’s a head shot. Roll for critical type.
    Me: 20.
    Piet: Hmmm… According to this table, it says that means the location you hit was “entirely severed off”. And you hit his head. According to a strict interpretation of the rules, the arrow from your shortbow just cut off the BBEG’s head. I can’t see how that would be anything but fatal. So, the decision before us is: do we end this campaign here, declare victory and leave the field, and go play something else, or do we accept that this ruleset has some flaws, and RP around them when they happen?

    fortunately, we opted for the RP path, and continued to have fun with the campaign. (I think we decided that my shot damaged him slightly, and that scared him enough that he beat a hasty retreat – which fit with the plot of the campaign.)

    {btw, Shamus: a hearty Thank You for the comment editing capability. It’s very much appreciated}

  33. DGM says:

    “{btw, Shamus: a hearty Thank You for the comment editing capability. It's very much appreciated}

    How do you do this?

  34. DGM says:

    EDIT: Never mind. I see it.

  35. Plasma says:

    I only really have one tabletop-related story, having only been in one or two games, run by my roommate in college. My most memorable experiences involved a half-orc barbarian originally named Logarth the Conquerer. During the campaign, he acquired the moniker Logarth Doorbane. Whenever he encountered a door, he declared “LOGARTH SMASH!” and bashed it down. This was problematic less often than you’d expect.
    If we had ever managed to get beyond second level, my gnome artificer (otherwise completely useless, kept failing all his use magic device checks) would have enchanted Logarth’s axe to do extra damage versus doors.
    There was some discussion of sticking my artificer in a Bag of Holding and just having him spend all his time crafting Alchemist’s Fire for the other party members to use, because he certainly wasn’t much good for anything else.

  36. Cactuscat says:

    I’ve got another one, it’s a “fond memory” sort of recollection this time.

    The GM was running a made-up fantasy game loosely based on Final Fantasy, but mostly just off the top of his head (he’s good at that sort of improvisation). After navigating dangers such as a valley filled with purple, exploding Chocobos (I kid you not) and vegetarian goblins, we finally confronted the BBEG, a certain “Lord Hades.”

    It was a long, bitter battle to best the belligerent baddie, but in the end we stood victorious. Someone thought the victory was a little too easy, though, and kept looking for the other shoe to drop. “He can’t be dead already!” said this no-good naysayer. “Lord Hades! I’ll bet with a name like that he’s really a demon!”

    “He’s not a demon,” replied the GM.

    “Aww, c’mon! Lord Hades, how could he not be a demon?”

    “I’m telling you, he’s not a demon.”

    “You expect me to believe that a guy named Lord Hades isn’t actually a demon?”


    *BOOM* The dread Lord Hades was resurrected as a demonic monster and we had an even tougher fight on our hands. If we hadn’t won, we probably would’ve killed the guy who kept insisting “Lord Hades” had to be a demon.

    In the end, the player had his character make a club out of the demon’s thigh bone, which he then continued to use in the next campaign. Creepy… o_o

    Still, it went down in history (our group’s history, at least) as one of the more memorable experiences. And to this day one of us will, from time to time, blurt out “He’s gotta be a demon!” when confronted with suspiciously named characters. It also was the birthing point of a saying that we all still use to this day: “Don’t give the GM ideas!”

    I could go on and on about the dangers of ignoring that particular piece of advice… ;)

  37. Ellimystic says:

    Oh, geez, giving the DM ideas…

    We had a DM who, every time someone offered up a theory about something happening, immediately made it true – even if it would make absolutely no sense. “Nah, guys, this has to be a trap”? Boom, we instantly fell into a trap. “I bet the advisor is a traitor”? The advisor immediately turned around and stabbed the king with no set-up. He apparently did this just to stop us from trying to guess the plot.

    Naturally, we tried to manipulate this. “I bet there’s some treasure under this rock!” and so forth. Whenever he’d catch us doing this, he’d just roll for damage on all of us. No pretext, no role-play, just “No theories. I’m rolling for damage.”

    We put up with it because he was a great DM in every regard except that he absolutely hated it when we tried to outguess him. Took it personally if one of us figured out what was about to happen, seemed to think that by guessing we implied his story was obvious.

  38. Jacob says:

    A nearly-perfectly executed battle with a couple of gas spores left the Drinja (half druid, half ninja) teetering near the brink of death. Perhaps it was that he ran up next to the poisonous spores moments before they exploded, but the ways of the Drinja are truly mysterious.

    The nearest possible help lay in an Orc settlement a couple days ride to the east. A journey by the entire party would be too slow for the Drinja to survive, so they gave him the two thousand gold in the party fund in addition to his own gold stash and sent him riding through the night toward a hopeful cure.

    The settlement looming on the horizon, the infected Drinja cautiously approached the outskirts, unsure of what kind of reception a poisoned human might receive. Fortunately for him, one of the first orcs he spoke with was more than willing to assist.

    Drinja: “Is there anyone here who can cast neutralize poison? I’m going to die in a couple hours!”

    Orc: “Sure, I think one of the clerics here can do that.”

    Drinja: “Okay, how much will that cost?”

    Orc: “How much do you have?”

    Drinja: “Well…I think I probably have enough to cover the costs. How much do you think it will cost?”

    Orc: “Could be hard to say, since the cleric is on the other side of town. I could go ask him, but that would require almost an hour’s journey. Just tell me how much you have.”

    Drinja: “Two thousand three hundred and eighteen gold pieces.”

    Orc: “That’s exactly how much it’ll cost!”

    After this brilliant display of negotiation, the Drinja did manage to stay alive thanks to the help of a local Hextorian cleric, although his eagle companion did not fare as well. And fortunately for the party the Drinja was quick-thinking enough not to have included the party fund among his total declared assets.

    Not surprisingly, the same player pulled a similar stunt in a Living Greyhawk module when he asked a magistrate, “How much should I bribe you to stay this man’s execution?”

  39. Dita says:

    We had a player that came in late to the group. He decided to be a cleric. Everyone was happy… until a big bloody battle was going on and they needed to be healed. I don’t know how he rolled his cleric, but no matter what the situation, he would only heal himself and not the party. He would just say “I’m not that kind of cleric”.


  40. J1nxter says:

    When my players decided that the quickest way to get from a to b would be via the underdark (obviously a forgotten realms like setting), and then forgot to pack food, drink and light for the trip. I discover this after they have been spending a day down there, and as punishment i had them eat illithid flesh to stay alive

  41. Chris says:

    Here’s a link to a thread about creepy gamers on the RPGnet forum. 617 pages of threads about weird gamers.


  42. Taross says:

    The worst thing I’ve ever seen… Mmm.
    That would be when a group of us decided to see how ‘broken’ the epic level system for the DnD setting was. And boy was it EVER broken.

    We ended up getting templates stacked, classes mixed, powers buffed up so heavily… Our Arcane Archer could hit everything he could see, no range limit, and he could see clearly to the horizon if he so tried. Our assassin could basically death-blow even a Great Old Wyrm, and as for the magic users?

    Suffices to say that one of them never walked again once he figured out how to cast unlimited Dimension Doors. And at one time the GM told us (as NPC) that the party had to go to ‘yon mountain over there past those treacherous swamps’ and the first reply from the Sorceror was “Ok, I cast Gate.”
    We eventually decided that parties of this level ought to get a -1 Con per every x levels over 20 due to never actually doing anything physically intense any longer.

    So yeah… Epic levels? Stay away from em.

  43. ChuckP says:

    Backstory: The defacto leader of the party was really slowing things down by incessantly checking for traps/ambushes. When I had an opportunity to roll a new PC, I made Mongo. He was buffed for STR/DEX/CON, much to the detriment of WIS & INT. The great thing about Mongo was that he didn’t care if he lived or died, and anything he couldn’t figure out was “Stupid”

    While pursuing a lead on a quest, we found a scroll box that nobody could figure out how to open. Finally, Mongo had a go at it.
    Mongo: Mongo pry lid off.
    DM: It doesn’t budge.
    Mongo: Smash box on table.
    DM: You don’t appear to do any damage to the box. The table is starting to crack, though.
    Mongo: Stupid box. [Tosses box over shoulder]
    DM: Sproing! The lid flys open. There’s a scroll inside.

    Turns out the box had been crafted by a rather forgetful Mage…

    Mongo was one of the most enjoyable PCs I’ve ever played, wading through battles with reckless abandon and usually coming out covered in (someone else’s) ichor.

    [Edit] Oh yeah, this is supposed to be about our worst experiences. This one happened before I joined the campaign:
    Nerfboy is playing a LE Regnar/Nidilap/Thief, who has somehow been turned into a Vampire. The group had found their way into Hell, and was fighting Asmodeus. Solo. (Where’s the minions? And the reserve legions of demons?) Nerfboy proceeds to go toe-to-toe with Big A, and manages to drain him down to level 1. At this point DM decides that, rather than die, Asmodeus surrenders, hands over the keys, and declares his undying fealty to Nerfboy.

    This campaign was produced by M. Haul

  44. Greg says:

    OK, had to share this one, even though I might be a little late on the uptake…

    I was DMing a game with two friends, Wade and Dan. Dan was admittedly a little new to the whole D&D thing, but he was interested, and we liked having him. Thus begins Dan’s character’s first night on watch.

    Myself: Alright Dan, your character’s watch begins. *Roll roll roll. Look up random encounter tables* OK Dan. You’re an elf, correct?
    Dan: Yah, so I have the night vision.
    Myself: Correct. You see three humanoid shapes about sixty feet away. What do you do?
    Dan: I move closer.
    Myself: OK. You see three humanoid shapes about forty feet away. What do you do?
    Dan: I move closer.
    Myself: OK. You see three humanoid shapes about twenty feet away. What do you do?
    Dan: I throw a dagger at one of them.
    Myself: Ohhhhhhhkay… Roll a d20.
    Dan: I roll a (insert high enough number to hit). Do I hit?
    Myself: Yah, roll a d4 for damage.
    Dan: (Insert random amount of damage) Alright! What happens now?
    Myself: *Roll roll roll* A javelin hits you for… *roll* five points of damage. How many hit points did you have?
    Dan: Uhhh… six.
    Myself: OK, you have a javelin through your stomach. What do you do?
    Dan: I run back to camp waking you two up!
    Myself: Don’t you think that would have made more sense to do before the javelin went through your stomach?

    Thus ended Dan’s first watch. Now, years later, when we’ve all gone our separate ways, it is still a running joke whenever we’re all home again. “What do you do?” “I move closer.”

  45. RHJunior says:

    There was the one campaign session where our party of thieves was attacked by a band of wererats popping up out of the winecellar in our tavern (yes, “our” tavern; one of the players actually bought it to use for our headquarters.) I had a fighter as a cohort of my main character; said fighter was a musketeer, wielding a blunderbuss and dual pistols. No matter what I did, though, the DM fudged it so that he missed every shot he made (this in spite of the fact that blunderbusses were, by the rules, evasion and dodgeproof.) After missing three shots in a row at arm’s length, our druid managed to morph into bear form and pin one of the wererats against the bar in a hammerlock. I walked up, loaded my blunderbuss with silver coins, ***placed the barrel against the wererat’s head,*** and pulled the trigger. (a blunderbuss, for the uninformed, has a barrel like a trumpet. It would be more accurate to say I put the wererat’s head IN the barrel…)
    The DM ruled that I missed, “grazing” the side of the wererat’s face.

    I still have not forgiven, and am plotting his untimely demise even now.

    In another campaign entirely, I was playing a relatively low-level wizard. Our party was organized by dint of being drafted by the local ruler. Seems the neighboring kingdom was going goofballs and had shut off all trade and communications… the queen of our own country wanted us to enter the neighboring kingdom and find out what was up.

    However, she had SPECIFIC IDEAS about how we were supposed to do this. Her (the DM’s) “plan” was that we were supposed to wander about *our own country* doing heroic deeds till we had earned enough of a grand reputation as noble do-gooders that the border guards would basically welcome us into the neighboring kingdom. Any attempt to argue with this plan was greeted with the sudden appearance of *teleporting ninjas* who would hold knives to our throats till we agreed to stick to the Queen’s plan again.
    However, not only was the DM resistant to any attempt to vary from his titanium-plated rails, his appointed NPCs were as useless as screen windows on a submarine. We gave up any pretense of autonomy and asked her what our first “heroic deed” was to be. She didn’t know. We asked her if she knew of any places with monsters or bandits or the like where we could go be heroic. She didn’t know…..
    At this point, my character (the wizard) got exasperated. “You wouldn’t happen to have any *intelligence dossiers,* would you?” He gestured, measuring out the size. “They’re folders filled with papers, about yea big… you use them to run a country…”
    Efforts to get something resembling *information* foiled, we resorted to wandering the city. I spent the entire time pointlessly going to various locations listed in the city’s description, asking people for information that didnt exist while the rest of the party got drunk in a tavern, our idiot bard traded a free wish from a genie for a magical accordion (it turned into any instrument you wished for— including a moonshine jug, still full of whiskey…) after my 98 lb wizard was deliberately abandoned by the other party members to drag our inebriated minotaur to his room, I got so exasperated that I had my wizard drop the drunken minotaur in the floor, march out the front door of the tavern, and fling himself under the next stagecoach.

  46. sunflare2k5 says:

    Just had this one happen earlier today… We’re using Marvel Superheroes RPG (the Advanced set) to run a game based on the Legion of Super-Heroes with 2 new heroes (the PCs).

    Using the basis that President Chu had said she’d set up a mission “for the media to play with” (quoted from the comics). She’d set up a ship to be attacked by “space pirates” (actors with stun pistols, basically) so the newly-formed Legion could look heroic. Except then the ship got found by Tangleweb (a 9′ cybered-up arachnoid), who took out the actors before the Legion actually got there.

    One of our heroes got ambushed by the uber-bug, getting KOed. Another of our group, imitating Daxamite powers (think Superman, except it’s lead that hurts them) rushes to the rescue… and misses, plowing into our KOed hero with super-strength and super-speed combined. Needless to say, he finished her off and only a critical success on Agility kept him from piercing the hull and killing off the rest of the group.

    And the worst part? Chu’s media team, having set up the story figuring it was only the actors aboard, fumbled their skillcheck and managed to broadcast the story… just *before* the heroes sent on the rescue actually got to the remote area the ship was stowed at. Once the Legion found out that one of their own died over a media stunt, they turned on Chu and she shut down their authorization to operate.

  47. El Zoof says:

    My favourite? This was a few years ago when 3rd Edition was still fairly new, during a Living Greyhawk game. My character was the only second level character, everyone else was first. We come across a pack of wolves surrounding a dying plot hook, and fearlessly rush to aid him.

    And then the wizard casts “sleep”.

    “Oh,” he says listlessly, trying to recover from last night’s hangover. “I thought that it only affected enemies.”

    Somehow we manage to avoid any deaths…

  48. SimeSublime says:

    Playing a Shadowrun game, the GM and one player were experienced. I’d pretty much only played in this campaign, and this was the first time the other two players had RPed. So, the only player who actually had experience with character creation was playing a chronic alcoholic, and thus his selection of equipment is at times inpractical. The rest of us didn’t know any better.

    So we’re wandering through an abandoned, underground laboratory. Can’t go back, as a mana-storm is destroying everything above and slowly making it’s way deeper. To increase the atmosphere, we come across a room that is pitch black. We try to inspect it.(This is all OOC)
    DM: It’s pitch black. What types of vision do you have?
    He’s answered with a chorus of “Low light vision”.
    DM: It’s pitch black. Low light vision isn’t going to cut it. Don’t you guys have anything that allows you to see in the dark? Thermographic vision? Ultrasound sensors? Torches?
    We’re sitting there with mostly guilty looks on our faces.
    Me: In our defence, we were hired to ambush a convoy in the middle of the desert at noon. Torches aren’t exactly the first thing you think of equipping for such a mission.
    So, this then results in a large amount of in character bickering (our team doesn’t get along at the best of times, and at this time we weren’t even a team. In fact we had been hired to perform opposite sides of the job and were only working together in the goal of mutual survival). Eventually, we decided to douse a zombie on the floor that somebody had stumbled on with the alcoholics tequila, then somehow lit it on fire. Then stood there dumbly looking at the walls when we realised that our source of light was immoveable. So, we then removed the jacket off another zombie, soaked it and draped it on the end of my mage’s metal staff to act as a makeshift torch.
    It turned out that of the entire complex, that was the only room without working lights. But it just goes to show, that with an ill-equipped party, even a minor plot device to effect atmosphere can turn into a major hurdle.

  49. vdgmprgrmr says:

    I was playing with a friend of mine a long time ago, just a couple weeks after we had scrounged up the money and bought the D&D v3.5 books. We decided for my friend to DM, and gave him a couple hours to make a dungeon.

    After half the kool-aid was exhausted and the dungeon was ready, we ( I don’t remember our names ) entered the cave.

    Many goblins and one death later, we found the goblin chieftan.

    “Behind him you see a large, jeweled, gold in-layed chest.” says Mr. DM.

    We killed the goblin chief with ease, and hungrily approached the chest.

    I begin to say that I search for traps, but one of our group says, “I open it!” before I can finish.

    “In the chest you find,” *roll, roll, roll* “40 gold. See, I told you he wouldn’t have enough money to buy that flaming sword!” The player who had been wanting a flaming sword ever since we were half done with our characters.

    All the players were overtaken by disappointment. Suddenly I was struck with an ingenius idea.

    “How much would this chest sell for?”

    “What? umm, you can’t, its too heavy.”

    “Well, hmm, ah! Everyone, roll!” *roll, roll, roll*


    “13, plus four for my strength!”

    “91!” says the person wanting the flaming sword. The DM looks at the die and back up at him after turning the die around. “aww, only 19.”

  50. Kdansky says:

    Well, one rather simple story:

    We were playing some module from Midgard (a german RPG, not so well established, decent background but very quirky rules, and never managed to make past ADnD mechanics). Now our GM was not so experienced (but we still had fun, even when half a hundred goblins managed to get down a 2 foot wide stair in less than one turn), and our group wasn’t too well balanced and never friendly with each other (but we still had fun), and our figher rolled terribly and was using the wrong weapon to pick up the plot-device (but we still had fun) until we realized one thing:

    It was kinda weird that one of the players would always be so ridiculously lucky. He never failed spells and very, very rarely skills. He always opened the untrapped chests with lots of loot in them (which he didn’t share, even if everyone else did it), but never the ones that were trapped, or never picked up cursed items. And then, when we were in a “Bagdad” like city, he immediatly claimed the Grand-Vezier was the bad guy, although that character hadn’t even be mentioned by the GM at that time. We then started to pay some attention to the player and realized:
    – He’d roll a couple times (while the other players were busy) until his D20 would show up a good number, and then use that to announce his next action with.
    – If that was too obvious, he’d roll first and announce an action afterwards (bad roll = attack, good roll = use spell. Never burn a spell when you roll badly)
    – He had actually read the module in advance. That explained why he knew every single damn trap and good loot…
    Oh, and now you might say: “Well, kids…”, but he was actually the second oldest in the group at about thirty.

    Yeah, we got rid of him…

    edit: ooooh, edits?! That’s nice! Now an edit function for name fitting email would be nice :)

  51. Hal says:

    So, yet another story from my bi-weekly game. One of the oddities of DnD 3.5 is that, even at low levels, a fighter on horseback with a lance can do obscene amounts of damage, even more so if he has the right feats. Our DM has been telling us about this quirk for a while, and how he doesn’t have much patience for min/maxing like that, but how that’s pretty much the only way to survive in Living Greyhawk.

    So, we start off yesterday’s session, and what does he do? He ambushes us with, guess what, a level 3 fighter on horseback with a lance. We don’t get any spot or listen checks to anticipate the guy, and his first action is to completely splatter one of our rogues. One-hit kill with no warning. The DM: “Uh, did I say he charges? I meant he . . . um . . . does this OTHER attack which does much less damage.”

    TWO HOURS of combat later, we finally manage to take the guy out, and the DM says, “Gosh, I didn’t think this would take so long, I figured this would be a throwaway battle.” Really? You didn’t think the guy who could kill all of us in one shot would take a while to beat? The guy who only has a 10% chance of missing his attacks? You thought we’d just brush him aside as an afterthought? The guy who nearly killed everyone in the party twice? You thought we’d just walk through that?

    The worst part was, as much trouble as it was, it was just a level 3 fighter. Paltry experience points, meager monetary rewards. *Grumble, grumble*

  52. Mari says:

    It’s been a blast to come here and read all these stories. Thanks for soliciting them, Shamus!

    For Guy: Actually, it was more a matter of poor initiative rolls on the part of the cleric and his opponents having been somewhat clever and lucky. A good power attack from a bastard sword followed by two hits from an orc double-ax, one of which was a crit, that was in the hands of a half-orc with a strength of 20. Looking back through my notes it looks something like this:

    Elf hits. Damage: 16
    Cleric is down to 32 HP
    Half-orc hits once with each side of double ax. Damage 1: 12 Damage 2: 10 X3 for the crit=30
    Cleric’s HP: -10 TKO

    There are days when the dice just plain don’t like you and there are days when the players have hot dice.

  53. Evilllama says:

    And then there are days with a bit of both.

    My friends and myself are playing a freelance completely unrailroaded and unstorydriven corsair campaign, in which our high-level chaotic evil characters sail our magic airship around a hardly-developed map killing random NPCs. It’s surprisingly entertaining, and we take turns running encounters for it.

    So one time, we were fighting a massive axe-wielding warforged punk of a barbarian. Or maybe he was a fighter. Anyhow, he was ridiculous. It wasn’t looking good either; this beast had hundred of hitpoints and still looked pretty fresh. A couple of us were down, and the warforged decided to close in on my character.

    The Dustmaker is an Eldritch Knight particularly fond of the disintegrate spell. Disintegrate is a great spell because it deals such a large amount of damage. And I could hit him (warforged have awful touch AC), but his fort save was, like, 30. In desparation, I tossed out a disintegrate. And he rolled a natural one.

    A fine trail of dust fell to the deck of the airship.

  54. I’ve been roleplaying since 1980, but the only story that leaps to mind involves an AD&D 2nd Edition campaign I ran, and one of its players, who’d grown tired of his PC, the super-specialist wizard Warstar.

    Warstar’s death wish was already starting to bother the other PCs (and their players) by the time they found The Chest.

    How often do you hear your DM say something like this?:
    “It doesn’t take a thief, or even a search, to see that This Chest Is Trapped.”

    Before anyone else can say or do -anything-, Warstar’s player announces: “I strike the chest with my staff.”

    The good news is that, after the flames and the shouting (by PCs and their players), the player made another character, which he enjoyed a lot more. That was the -only- good news to come out of that encounter.

  55. guy says:

    Here’s one: the playtesters of lair of the spiderqueen or somesuch confronted a mighty iron golem. it’s DR was 50/+5, and they had a bunch of plus ones of many shiney effects. it looked like a tough fight, but then they disintigrated the bridge it was standing on. onward to the castle they went.

    Then there was the guy who was on a rope bridge over a swamp. he asked a bunch of random questions about the environment, none of which seemed very important. he asked, “how deep is the swamp?” the GM rolled some dice, and said “it’s 15 feet deep.” the swamp was black enough that you couldn’t see more than a couple feet deep, but the knowledge was gained in character without much work. except from gravity.

  56. Germelia says:

    I’ll never forget the adventure in which the party was transporting a bunch of 10 pirates in a cage to collect a bounty. Well, that didn’t really work out. The first pirate escaped because the sorcerer (me) had accidentally set the wagon with the cage on fire. The second pirate escaped because the bored bard was using his mage hand to annoy the pirates with a crowbar. One of the pirates grabbed the crowbar, opened the lock and was free, but got shot by the ranger. The barbarian climbed the cage to stop the others from escaping, but my sorcerer decided it would be helpful to grab the cage and perform a shocking grasp on it. That killed another 5 pirates. One pirate died from pneumonia and the last two were eventually suffocated in the ranger’s bag of holding.

  57. Baruch says:

    I was a little child watching my cousin and his friends play D&D. I desperately wanted to join in, constantly asking. The one kid, Jason, was being a jerk and killing all the other PCs, but I still wanted to play. Finally, my cousin relented and made me a very tall dual-longsword wielding elven ranger of mid level (I was eight, so I don’t remember the specifics). I appeared, saw Jason threatening one of my siblings characters, yelled “What are you doing in my forest?” and approached Jason. He stabbed me in the throat. I said that a kneeling character wouldn’t be able to stab a tall guy in the throat. He demonstrated the motions with my cousin, who decided that it was possible on a roll of 20. Guess how the numbers came up?

    And thus my character, who if he had simply hacked and slashed would have easily achieved victory, was throat stabbed for his roleplaying attempt.

  58. DGM says:

    With the wrong DM, you can get screwed simply by rolling too well. As in: getting a critical hit will kill your target even if you were trying to knock him out and take him alive. This happened to me more than once, and even went to court in one game. Grr.

  59. Randomscrub says:

    During my first campaign, two absolutely hilarious events took place.

    Story the first:
    Most of the party (including me) had been captured and disarmed by low-ranking flunkies of Generic Villain, and were being held at an inn while an officer was fetched to ID us. I, being a ridiculously charismatic Halfling bard (my only excuse is that it was my first campaign), was trying to bluff my way near the table where they had stashed our gear in an attempt to rearm the party and escape. I'm almost there when what happens? Our fighter, who was upstairs getting to know the innkeeper's daughter, gets busted by her dad and jumps out the window, knocking over a lamp in the process, which sends the thatched roof up in flames. Our hand forced, we then try to overpower the guards without weapons… We die. Only the fighter and the rogue, who were never captured, survive.

    Story the second:
    Later in the campaign we are finishing a dungeon crawl, when we discover that our only exit is a hole in a domed ceiling about a half-mile above us. The fighter, who has acquired a flying/levitating/whatever belt, gets the bright idea that he can use this to essentially rig up a magic elevator. We get lifted by him, one by one, to safety. He then attempts to dismount the platform to solid ground. And fails. He slips. DM gives him a save roll to grab the belt. He misses. DM gives him a save roll to grab the lip of the hole. He misses. DM proceeds to madly try to fabricate more excuses to give him save attempts (with inexplicably lower numbers necessary for success). The fighter misses an additional THREE save rolls. The DM runs out of excuses. The fighter falls to his death. I guess the dice really were trying to kill him.

  60. Jeff says:

    Well, if the cleric didn’t have a chance to prepare, that would explain it.
    A 6th level cleric would have enough for full plate, perhaps a Dex of 12, so that’s 19AC right there. Shield of Faith for +3, Heavy Shield for +2, for a 24 AC. At 2nd level, with a +5 from Str, that’s a max to hit of +7. If the half-orc is using both ends of a double weapon, with TWF, that’s -2, so back to +5. If he both hit and confirmed a critical, he’d need to roll 19 or 20 three times.

    The elf with a power attack, two handed weapon (presumably), trading +2 to hit with +4 damage (12 points of damage remaining, so either a 6 on a d10 with a Str of 18 (gives a bonus of +6 to damage), or less Str and better rolls. With a +4 from an 18 Str, that’s a total of +4 to hit, or +5 if he only PA’d 1. Which is still a +4 to hit, and he’d need a 20.

    If the cleric was properly prepared, to get the one-shot sequence, the elf would need a 20 followed by anything else, and the orc would need a 19, 20, then 19 or 20. The DMG’s NPC Cleric is in +1 Full Plate, which means they’d have to always roll 20s to hit, so the entire sequence would have been impossible.

    Not to mention Sanctuary, Bear’s Endurance, Aid, and things of that nature. In terms of attack, he can easily get a +6 to attack and damage, and all sorts of other dangerous spells.

    The cleric died because he was an overconfident bad guy. A PC in his place would wipe the floor with the attackers, given that 3.x went overboard in trying to convince people to play healers.

  61. HunterC says:

    Vampire, dark ages. Second game, the one guy (T) is introducing his new character. Our town is preparing for a raid from the north, a PC (J) being head of the town guard. In a meeting, discussing plans, with the entire guard around…

    T: (Shows up, wearing mask and big cloak, and stands conspicuously in the corner, bugging NPC guards.)
    J: (Eventually) Who are you?
    T: I come from the north.
    J: Guards, sieze him. I’ll question him later.
    T: (Struggles, but leaves with guards, to stand conspicuously right outside the door. Keeps trying to re-enter)
    J: (Annoyed) Guards, have him here. Identify yourself. Why are you coming here from, hiding your identity?
    T: I’m a spy.
    J: …
    T: And a good spy, too. I can help you.
    J: …how?
    T: I can be swayed by money!
    J: Take him to the dungeon.
    P (another PC not at the scene): Can I be there?
    DM: Uhh, yeah.

    Later on, he’s shackled, and his mask is removed by the guards. He’s Nosferatu, so the guards freak out, and come running. Before we get there, T manages to break out of the shackles, attack the only guard who didn’t run, and, just as we arrive, is biting him. He neglects to close the wound, and leaves him to bleed. Still, he insists he’s there to help us.

    That was the last game he played, but we keep that character around as a comic relief NPC. He’s blood bound to most of the PCs.

    That same session, his first venture into torpor, which has remained a constant in every session since. Since he now must obey or die, and he’s supposed to be a spy/assassin, we send him on a solo mission to take out the leader of the party coming to attack us. He makes it to the camp all right, hiding in an abandoned building. We figure he’ll sneak around to find the leader. Naturally, he has to kill everyone he comes across, starting with those sleeping.

    This goes on for a while (the rest of us wondering why), until he goes upstairs, and find some awake, playing a game. Decides to kill them anyway, fails, and they yell, alerting everyone, including the leader (a Gangrel or Brujah – don’t remember which), who was at the table.

    That’s the first time we got his body back in a box.

    The first mission we sent him on as an NPC resulted in him
    1: Not noticing a trip rope
    2: Not noticing he set it off
    3: Not noticing the big tree falling on him
    4: Being quite possibly the only 5th gen vampire to be put into torpor by a tree.

    We cleaned him up later, and buried him along with the NPCs who died in the battle later on.

    I actually miss playing with the guy. He tried to do scenes of Hollywood grandeur, and failed miserably, while somehow not messing up our plans.

  62. Jeff says:

    Speaking of clerics, I recall almost killing off a party with a cleric two levels higher once, but had to cut down on the duration of spells significantly.

    Some of my favorite quotes involved a ridiculously overpowered melee cleric character in a campaign I ran, though…

    [17:06:01] “Found some place called a ‘comedy’ ‘club’.”
    [17:06:50] “Ended up underground again, and had to tell a joke to get past an area thigh deep in water.”
    [17:08:01] * +Garth punches the air enthusiastically, “Drama! Intruigue! Contrived plot thickeners! That’s the stuff! I’ll bet you deposed a crazed evil jester too!”

    [17:11:49] “It nearly killed us.”
    [17:11:59] “Ooooh… peril!”

    [17:13:40] “We got some weird scroll, felt turned inside out, and got deposited right back outside of town here.”
    [17:14:04] “Hah! Invigorating!”

    [17:17:46] “Oh you know, duty calls from time to time… polishing temple armour, sweeping flagstones, thwarting mobs of demonic creatures… it’s all in a days work!”

    [17:46:40] “Feet are effective weapons to those trained in their use. I’m actually surprised more people are not trained to fight without weapons.”
    [17:47:05] * +Garth looks at Kodoma appraisingly
    [17:47:17] * +Kodoma looks at Garth seriously
    [17:47:25] “Well I dunno… you’re a bit soft… and I’d have to swing you by your head…”

    19:03:00] * +Garth peruses a few items, oooh-aahs at some gauntlets and shields before stopping in front of a full plate
    [19:03:07] “Magnificent!”
    [19:03:17] “And in my colour too!”
    [19:03:27] “That color being?”
    [19:03:33] “Why Shiny of course!”

    [19:32:48] * +Julian ponders the suit that the tanner is working on.
    [19:33:06] * +Garth examines the suit
    [19:33:11] “Does it come in shiny?”

  63. Scott says:

    I have GM’d a few Shadowrun 3rd games (not by choice, as I am quite bad at it…) where some interesting things have taken place.

    One of these was mentioned by MintSkittle in comment #58.
    Another one takes place with the same charaters before the deadly radio tower escapade.

    Justin (Human/Hacker), John (Human/Mage), and Ted(Troll/Huge -Weapon-Shooting-Guy) are sent on a stress relieving mission to destroy stuff. (I couldn’t think of anything good at the time.) There was something about rival gangs and storage buildings or something… I can’t remember…
    Long-story-short, Justin found a cat inside of a small room.

    What would you do if your GM told you there was a frightened cat inside of a small room?
    The answer:
    “Shoot it.” Or at least that was the answer Justin gave me.

    So I had to start looking through the ‘Critters’ book for a cat to use for combat. Strength 1, Quickness 2, Body 1, Reaction 5, no skills…
    [For those who know nothing about Shadowrun: An attribute score of 3 is average for a human, 6 is bordering on superhuman and 1 is 5-year-old-girl level.]
    “Okay, roll your pistols,” I say.
    Roll comes out pretty bad (Don’t remember the numbers, but it’s almost a critical miss.)
    “Yeah… you miss the cat and… it freaks out and attacks you.” *rolling for damage* “Ok, wow. uhh… Do you want to dodge?”
    “No” He said, opting to save his combat pool die for the next shot.
    “Okay, roll a body resistance test.” *Roll* “Yeah… you take moderate physical damage.”
    [Again, for those not familiar, everyone has 10 hit points for both stun and physical, light damage is 1 HP, moderate is 3, serious is 5 and deadly is 10. If you get 10 stun, you are unconscious. If you get 10 physical, you are unconscious and will die very soon.]
    “I shoot it again!”
    Shooting a small moving target while injured (+2 modifiers to all tests) and in melee with said target is no easy task. Justin manages to graze it, giving it light physical damage.
    “Yeah… it attacks you again” *More rolling and cursing and laughing from the others at the table*
    “You took serious damage this time…”

    Justin limps out of the building a short time later, dead cat in hand, bleeding nearly to death. The closest his character had ever been, and has ever been since, to dying.

    He will never live that down. Ever.

  64. lxs says:

    Some guy who was not me was playing Traveller. He was sent to rescue an heiress, Jade. He tracked the gang to their lair, a warehouse. His group took out most of the gang acceptably, but the guy behind the bar with a grenade launcher was giving him major trauma. The guy’s scientist character, previously fairly useless, decides this is his time to shine and lobs a small quantity of plastic explosive over the bar.

    It’s a perfect shot and it even detonates, taking out the bar. Then the grenades detonate, taking out the northern and eastern supporting walls. Then the second floor meets the first and ground floors. Then, OOC, he discovers the hostage was tied up behind the bar. Oops.

    I really wasn’t the paladin a necromancer fast-talked into acting as his bodyguard.

    I didn’t play a superhero adventure as a Preacher-meets-Colossus. In that adventure, if I had been sent to investigate a dodgy operation, I would not have ripped the door off a police van (unmarked!).

    I didn’t totally stall an adventure while playing a pseudodragon through genius application of Grease and Gust of Wind to a flight of ghoul-littered stairs. Nor did I progressively augment a wall to ‘challenge’ a convention group. A 10′ wall topped with broken glass. To be fair the group didn’t even ask about ladders.

    I didn’t play D&D Immortals, with scratch characters, while at primary school. Which hypothetically went as well as can be imagined. I didn’t DM a two-player (victim plus me) game in the firm belief that the aim was to get XP and as long as we got XP it would be wicked fun.

    I didn’t join a rich, well-established D&D all-rogue game and ram-raid a jewellery shop my first session. I was not caught entirely by surprise by the shop being able to afford a Contingency/Forcecage.

    I do devote myself entirely to Warcraft nowadays and leave the roleplaying to people with clues. I have pledged never to game again, although I will always love the hobby looking in from the outside. In my defense I was a minor for almost all the above stories…

    I link the wonderful Mr. Welch’s list of Things He Cannot Do: http://theglen.livejournal.com/16735.html
    Be aware, that list is toxic, consuming sufficient quantities will lead to Death By Snarf.

    Finally, it’s 05:55 here in the UK. It’s my first day back at work tomorrow. I hate you all.

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