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Maxymiuk
2007-06-25, 01:17 AM
Since it's been a few months since we had this type of thread, I figured it's about time for a new one.

The following come from one of the campaigns I currently run. Sorry if some of those are a tad long - this particular group (including me) likes setting up their jokes over the course of a conversation, and just giving you the punchline out of context would be missing the point.

Caedmon Thaal: Ranger extraordinaire, reformed mass murderer, and party leader because no one else wanted to be. One of the two original players still left with the campaign.
Sonja: His wolf animal companion.
Kelsrod Dutherin: Rogue/Ranger/Barbarian multiclass, the most level-headed member of the party, and possessed of a tendency to speak in blocks of text. Also, the second original player still in the campaign.
Crowid Beestinger: Halfling Sorcerer, party face, and dragon bait. Original player, no longer with the group.
Midnight: His raven familiar.
Morgan Seafood: Failed cook, absent-minded wizard, hailed as group's Arcane Google. Original player no longer with the party.
Lizard: His familiar.
Kumbrin Deepdelve: Dwarf Battle Sorcerer, dragon lover, elf hater, and every half-elf druid's worst fear - a racist with a big axe.
Naila: Kumbrin's player's replacement character after Kumbrin went off the deep end. Half-elven female druid, half-wild, and, as it turned out, completely crazy. No longer with the party due to player drama.
Dargor: One of the several interchangeable barbarians the group has suffered through (long story short: flaky players who always insisted on playing barbarians for some reason). Best known for two critical fumbles in a row during a fight. No longer with the party.
Trok'kael: A half-elf ranger/rogue/bloodhound with a pseudodragon cohort. Snarky, overconfident, and given to an occasional bout of stupidity. Joined the group during a prison break.
Sa'aragra: Trok's pseudodragon cohort and sister - or at least he thinks of her as such. Looks after him out of pity more than anything else.
Savath: A wizard with an agricultural bent. Currently collecting funds for founding an arcane plantation. He was introduced to the party through the unfortunate means of an earthquake, and a Caedmon in a rather fragile mental state.
Zacred: A ranger/scout with a horse companion and a very high opinion of his woodsy skills. Missed the fact that at this point most of the party is made up of rangers.


Maxymiuk: Ok, any questions, concerns, comments, cow mutilations to get out of the way before we start?

Caedmon Thaal: ((So let me get this straight . . .))
Caedmon Thaal: ((I'm both a future Paladin and a Magnificent Bastard?))
Caedmon Thaal: ((There must be a prestige class for that . . .))

Saldzar: In fact I would be willing to bet a not insignificant part of my hoard that when you first set off into the woods, you were looking forward to pillaging whatever treasure the goblins may have.
Crowid Beestinger: (( Ahhh...the control not to say anything about his hoard and how tiny it is...do you think he carves all that wood to compensate? ))

Narrator: Suddenly a black shape descends upon Crowid... it's Midnight, half-frozen and bloody furious. The bird practically claws its way into the halfling's cloak where it can find a bit of warmth.
** Crowid Beestinger screams at first, then notices what it is that's attacking him and starts swearing rather pictoriously. "Stay put!" he wiggles on his seat, afraid Jr will panic. "Stand still or I will give you no food!" **
Midnight: Some master you are! Out in the cold the whole bloody night and not even an "Are you alright Midnight? Do you need anything?" But no, the good master had to go and get sloshed!

** Kumbrin Deepdelve examines the wound for anything serious, like possible infection and bleeding **
Kumbrin Deepdelve: examine wound: Heal [1d20+0] -> [1,0] = (1)
Kumbrin Deepdelve: "Hah, yer fine, barely a fleshwound!"

Caedmon Thaal: Long story. I'll tell you later -- AFTER I heal Sonja1
Narrator: ((Little did he know, Sonja2 would be meeting them a few miles down the road))

Narrator: Kelsrod feels something tugging slightly at his sleeve.
** Kelsrod Duthertin looks around, then down. **
Narrator: It's the girl. She looks up at you with big eyes.
Girl: Mister. Did'ja kill lots'f dwaggons?
** Kelsrod Duthertin blinks and smiles down at the girl in confusion. "Kill...What?? No, sweetheart, I don't kill dwa--er, dragons. I've only ever met one and I made friends with him." Okay, so that's stretching the word friend a wee bit... **
Girl: M'mum always tole me d'adventurers kill dwaggons. An' deemons. An' things.
** Kelsrod Duthertin chuckles and squats down to the girl's level, though his eyes keep flicking away from her to continue keeping watch. "Well, I'm sorta new to the whole adventurer bit. So far that bear thing is the only thing I've killed that wasn't for food or hide, and it was sorta already dead." He scratches his head. "I don't really understand that part," he confides. **
** Girl pouts. "So's ye not an' real adventurer?" **
** Kelsrod Duthertin moves his head from side to side noncommittally. "Well, I'd be inclined to call some of what we've been doing lately quite an adventure, myself. But...I suppose in the sense of the ones they tell stories about, I fall a little short of the mark." He pauses, reflecting. "I don't know if I really want to be that sort of an adventurer. Tends to lead to something of a short and difficult life. I'd like to see a bit of the world, try to leave it a better place than I found it, then find a quiet patch of forest with plenty of game trails and settle down." **
** Girl blinks. **
Girl: So's how many dwaggons y'gonna kill?
** Kelsrod Duthertin considers for a moment, then smiles at her and reaches out to tap his finger lightly on her nose. "As many of 'em as need it, I suppose." **
Girl: *she thinks about it, then nods* That's alright then.

Caedmon Thaal: (( see, this is why I only have 10 charisma, LOL ))
Narrator: ((And yet you lead them... by bloody-mindedness, if not force of personality))
Caedmon Thaal: (( The irony has not escaped me. ))

Narrator: Caedmon suddenly becomes aware of just how much Sonja is communicating with body language alone - knowledge that was beyond his reach so far, as much as he may know about animals.
Caedmon Thaal: Whoa.
Caedmon Thaal: Sonja?
Kumbrin Deepdelve: ((don't tell me the wolf has the hots for him. please. It's best left unsaid.))
Sonja: You ask something?
Caedmon Thaal: Whoa. Yeah, I need to ask who attacked you yesterday. Was it other wolves?
Sonja: Yesterday?
Caedmon Thaal: Yes. Um... during your trip down here
Caedmon Thaal: You were attacked?
Sonja: What is, "yesterday"?
Caedmon Thaal: The day before today.
Sonja: What is "today"?
** Caedmon Thaal sighs **
Caedmon Thaal: It's not important now -- we may not have much time. Please. Did other wolves attack you?
** Sonja is puzzled and at the same time somewhat apprehensive. She is somehow failing the Pack Leader, yet she doesn't understand how. **
Kumbrin Deepdelve: ((ooh, ooh, use sun and moon references!))
** Caedmon Thaal recalls the KISS principle -- keep it simple, stupid. **
Caedmon Thaal: Are there other wolves in these woods?
Kumbrin Deepdelve: ((what's a wolf?))
Sonja: *now she recollects* Pack chase One That Is Of Another Pack, yes.
Caedmon Thaal: What is scent of Another Pack?
Sonja: *her hackles rise* Wrong scent. Wrong... bad manners. Pack did not give call to warn One That Is of Another Pack away. They attacked with no sound. It breaks custom.
** Caedmon Thaal realizes that Another Pack refers to themselves -- he makes a mental note to teach Sonja the concept of pronouns sometime **
Caedmon Thaal: Pack With Bad Manners, where come from?
Sonja: *she bares her teeth in what apparently passes for laughter among wolves* Pack Leader can speak properly now, which is only proper. But Pack Leader must work on not sounding stupid, lest his authority is challenged.
** Caedmon Thaal rolls his eyes **
Caedmon Thaal: Pack Leader is different. Pack Leader speaks different to Others of Another Pack. But answer: Where Pack With Bad Manners come from?
Sonja: *remains unconvinced* It is proper for Pack Leader to know how to behave. But Pack Leader lacks fur and fangs. He was not brought up as wolf. That is alright. First Mate can teach him. *pause* The Wrong Pack run there. *she indicates north*
** Caedmon Thaal opens his mouth to ask about the phrase "First Mate," then decides very much against it **
Caedmon Thaal: Would you recognize the Wrong Pack's scent again?
Sonja: It is easy. Can Pack Leader not feel the scent on the wind? It smells of prey that is too dead to eat.
Caedmon Thaal: Pack Leader feels the scent, but First Mate must watch for them. First Mate has excellent nose, yes?
Sonja: Pack Leader flatters his Mate as is proper. He will make a good wolf yet. Yes, I know what scent to look for now.

** Caedmon Thaal looks around to ensure that Kelsrod, Morgan, Crowid, Kumbrin, Cadmus and their assorted zoo are ready to go. **
Narrator: ((The assorted zoo chooses this exact moment to start acting like real animals and begins a battle royale))

Narrator: As our wizard speaks the last of the spell's words, the candles he has lit at various stages of the summoning flare upwards once, then go out.
Narrator: In the darkness, something stirs...
Narrator: And then...
Lizard: Are you bloody out of your mind?!
** Morgan Seafood breathe heavly exhaling a mist for every breath **
Morgan Seafood: "What??"
** Morgan Seafood blinks and looks up **
Lizard: Winter? WINTER?! You summon me into the middle of winter? Have you gone senile from all that magic in your head? Or were you born that way?
Kelsrod Duthertin: ((Born Senile...hmm. Band name?))
Caedmon Thaal: (( Born Senile's new album, "Quest of the Zookeepers," released next Tuesday by Sony records. ))
Morgan Seafood: "We wee well...."
** Morgan Seafood struggles with lighting one of the candles **
Lizard: What? Speak up! Damn you ARE simple, aren't you. A bloody apprentice too, I bet. I demand WARMTH!

Caedmon Thaal: Well, ye all know him, or at least know of him! He's Cadmus, the Baron's . . . (quietly) what are ye again, Cadmus? The head of the Guard? (loudly) Ye know Cadmus! We are fellows of Cadmus, and we seek an audience with Garthis, your headman!
Man: What fer?
Caedmon Thaal: (quietly) See, this is why I usually have Crowid do the talking.

Narrator: Inside is almost a copy of what you've seen in the Teldson homestead - the same basic layout, with the huge stove dominating the center of the building, every room built around it. A young, but serious-looking girl with a huge knife hanging from her belt shows you to the kitchen.
** Caedmon Thaal flinches a bit at the cognitive dissonance -- young girl, huge knife. "Does your father know you wear that thing?" **
Girl: 'e made it fer me.
Caedmon Thaal: Ah . . .
Caedmon Thaal: well, then . . .
Girl: 'e says it's fer when a raider tries t' rape me, so's I can cut 'is goolies off.
Caedmon Thaal: Ah. And how old are you?
Girl: 'll be six come summer.
Kumbrin: "Lad, leave tha girl to her knife, or it will be YOUR goolies she'll cut, we got business!"
Caedmon Thaal: I think she'd have an easier time reaching yours, dwarf, but you're right -- business it is.

Lizard: And while we're at it, you may feed ME as well, old fool. Or do you think I can sustain on air alone?
Morgan Seafood: "you just better be happy with me keeping you warm or ill put you outside in the snow."
Morgan Seafood: "But with that said im obligated to feed you I guess, What do you like and ill be sure not to get you it"
Lizard: A mouse or two would be nice. And some beetles. Oh, oops. That's right. You won't find any of those. Cause you went and summoned me IN THE MIDDLE OF FRIGGIN' WINTER

** Caedmon Thaal keeps an eye out for signs of other animals in the victinity -- what kind, how dangerous, whether they show signs of being actually ALIVE, etc. **
Caedmon Thaal: Survival if necessary: [1d20+6] => [1,6] = (7)
Caedmon Thaal: (( *thud* ))
** Caedmon Thaal trips and falls over an outstretched tree root **

** Caedmon Thaal wonders if this is a certain subspecies of horse, perhaps some other kind of mount altogether. Knowledge: Nature [1d20+6] => [1,6] = (7) **
Caedmon Thaal: (( *thud* ))
Caedmon Thaal: Your guest rides a bald eagle?

Verelun: But all in due time. For now... tea, anyone?
Kumbrin: "Never offer a dwarf tea..."
Verelun: Afraid I'd slip some herbs into it while I'm not looking, master dwarf?
Kumbrin: "Nay, We just dun drink tea."

** Caedmon Thaal sips the tea **
Caedmon Thaal: I must tell you, dwarf, that this particular pointy-eared half-breed brews an excellent, and perfectly safe, cup of tea.
Kumbrin: "How'dye know it's safe?"
Caedmon Thaal: Well, obviously, you've seen me drink it, and it's had no . . .
** Caedmon Thaal's eyes widen **
** Caedmon Thaal gasps and clutches at his throat **
Kumbrin: "TREASON!"
** Caedmon Thaal convulses in his seat **
** Caedmon Thaal stops convulsing, looks at Kumbrin and laughs heartily **

Kumbrin: "I have. I served under Lord Feergan, overlord and commander of the fortress town of Ironcliff, We were among the frontier, the first line of defense!"
Kumbrin: "And I cleaved through more elves then I could be bothered ta count. I used ta string up their deformed ears and carry them around as trophies, and my entire chest was covered!"
Narrator: ((Ok, I think Kumbrin just officially advanced from "bloodthirsty" to "creepy" o_O))

Caedmon Thaal: Alright, everyone, but do exactly as Verelun and I tell you -- this may be a critical encounter.
Verelun: ((Because little do they know, that the Pegasus has laser beams for eyes... mwahahahaha))
Verelun: ((Ooops? Was that out loud?))
Caedmon Thaal: (( Oooh, does it also have shark robots? ))

Kumbrin: ((aye, Kumbrin DOES have a soul... He's just really misunderstood. Under his hard, elf hating mercenary exteriour... There's a special child inside to be discovered!))
Kumbrin: ((I'm SERIOUS!))

** Caedmon Thaal stops just shy of her, and is confused -- what, exactly, is the proper human-Pegasus ettiquite? **
Caedmon Thaal: Hello.
Kumbrin: ((and the pegasus rears and kicks Caedmon right in the face.))

Kumbrin: ((ok, so now we have a ranger in a love affair with a recently widowed horse. the plot thickens.... ^^))
Narrator: ((Ye lords. Why does every game I run touch upon animal pornography sooner or later?))
Caedmon Thaal: (( wasn't MY idea . . . ))

Maxymiuk: Heh, Crusader made a new character. I think I intimidated him a bit too much, actually.
Chichiri: LOL
Chichiri: You certainly read him the riot act, and thank gods because the char was getting on my nerves
Maxymiuk: It's a female, half-elf, druid of Ehlonna.
Grunn (enter): 18:45
Maxymiuk: I predict that if she and Kumbrin ever meet, there's going to be some kind of an explosion.
Chichiri: LOL!!!
Chichiri: Are you serious?
Maxymiuk: Unfortunately, I am.
Chichiri: I hope he's not making some kind of point -- or if he was, I hope he lets it go at char creation
Maxymiuk: Well, I did bring that up with him, but apparently he knows what he's doing.
Grunn: ummm, guys, as embarassing as this may be, it's me, Kumbrin. ^^

Caedmon: My friends, I apologize . . . I acted without thought. This will accomplish little, and it is certainly not what Verelun would have wanted.
Caedmon: You said he was making like hell for your Baron's stronghold? I will have to hope that he finds his justice there.
Caedmon: If not, he had better hope that we never meet again -- for I will deliver it upon him myself.
Caedmon: But not now.
Caedmon: Then he'll be alone once more. With any luck, he'll find the justice he deserves sooner or later. Knowing his personality, probably sooner.
Caedmon: And if not, well, as I said . . . no, there'll be no more thinking about that. Come, for Brokenbracken.
Caedmon: ..and I doubly apologize to YOU, Kelsrod, for being willing to strand you in the wilderness like that. Please forgive me.
Narrator: ((Just a few thees and thous, and we'll make Caedmon into a decent Shaekespearian character))

Narrator: ((Ok, time to get this game rolling again. Werewolves attack))
Caedmon: (( O.o ))
Narrator: ((Well, not realy, but take that as a hint.))

** Naila seems surprised. **
Naila: "you know of him? Verelun is eldest."
Caedmon: Yes, well . . . I'm deeply sorry to have to tell you this, but Verelun is dead. He was murdered this morning.
Narrator: ((And that's why Caedmon isn't a diplomat))

** Naila looks down at her horse. "He likes your horses. He wishes mating, he will follow." **
Cadmus: ...
** Dargor raises an eye brow. **
Caedmon: . . . . . fair enough.
Kelsrod: ((...Uh, you know, I hadn't really paid attention to this before, but...do any of you people ride mares?))
Narrator: ((I did though, and no, they don't. Nalia's horse has unusual tastes))
Caedmon: (( . . . . . . ))
Narrator: ((And I'm getting this Spellsinger vibe right now, so no one friggin' DARE bring up virgins))

Narrator: ((She doesn't like bathing and rides a gay horse. Hmm... not much of a resume))
Naila: ((one of you must ride a mare... cmon, riding stallions isn't easy))
Caedmon: (( My girlfriend has had no complaints . . . ))

Narrator: ((And you know, I'd fast forward, but since those two are busy developing a romantic subplot here...))
Narrator: ((In the middle of trying to outrun a blizzard, no less... :P))

Maxymiuk: I have plans.
Maxymiuk: Mwaha
Naila: for dramatic deaths? ^^
Maxymiuk: Like yours?
Maxymiuk: Oops...
** Maxymiuk has said nothing. **

Baron Morderey: ((The PC Shield will only earn you guys that much slack))
Baron Morderey: ((Just so you know...))
Caedmon: ((PC shield?))
Baron Morderey: ((PC Shield - PC special ability. Negates consequences of doing dumb sh** on account of you being the PC))

Brother Kerias: Er... yes. A thin, maddened, hunger-driven beast can indeed do terrible things to assuade that need. And in the midst of a fight, who's to say a snow-blinded man couldn't make an honest mistake like that?
Caedmon: There was no snow in the air that day.
Narrator: ((Snow blindness is brought on by reflected sunglare btw))
Caedmon: ...and it was cloudy.

** Dargor draws his sword and runs toward Kerias and holds the sword up hailing it down at Kerias. **
Dargor: (( Attack roll: [1d20+4+3] -> [1,4,3] = (8) ))
Dargor: (( T_T ))
Narrator: ((Miss!))
Dargor: (( a..one..))
Narrator: ((Oh, that's right, it's a fumble, isn't it?))
Narrator: ((Hmm... how evil do I want to get?))

Kelsrod: ((Or maybe I did. No, armor spikes can be used as an off-hand attack.))
Narrator: ((So... you body slam him with them?))
Narrator: ((What is this, a mosh pit?))

** Dargor jumps in rage his eyes widen as he lets a cry and holding his sword up and swings it down fiercly attemping to seperate kerias shoulder away from his body. attack roll [1d20+7] -> [20,7] = (27) and Damage [2d6+7] -> [4,1,7] = (12) **
Dargor: (( O.O ))
Dargor: (( :D ))
Narrator: ((And Dargor... you forgot your sword is stuck))
Dargor: (( T_T ))
Narrator: ((So make a Strength check if you want to free it. DC is 6))
Dargor: (( I forgot. [1d20+3] -> [1,3] = (4) I was damn excited.. ))
Dargor: (( This is clearly.. crap.. )
Narrator: Dargor pops a disk.
Naila: ((why do we have this guy with us again? ^^ ))
Narrator: ((Comic relief?))
Dargor: (( T_T to keep the floor busy? ))
Caedmon: ((because he's damned good against ceilings!!))
Dargor: (( I'll go hide alone in the corner. ))
Naila: ((wait, wait, he actually botched that roll, he rolled a 1. I demand more humiliating disaster for Dargor! :p))
Caedmon: ((Dude. His ass is being kicked by the FLOOR. I think that's enough for one guy . . . ))

Trok'kael: " Why am I here? "
Trok'kael: " I've been down here for two weeks, one of the guards decided to start insulting me, and I think he got offended by my replies... "
Trok'kael: " O' course, the whole attempted escape didn't help my case... "
Trok'kael: " Would have made it too, if I hadn't fallen off the wall "
** Kelsrod tries to figure out where in an underground castle would be a wall suitable for falling off. **

Kelsrod: "Your sister sounds somewhat dangerous."
Trok'kael: " She can be "
** Kelsrod grins at the far wall of his cell. "Is she pretty?" ***
** Kelsrod adds almost immediately, "No offense meant. For some reason I've just always wanted to ask someone that." **

Narrator: ((Ok Kels, what did you miss?))
Kelsrod: ((Comp bombed on me while the pans were rattling. Cook had just gone wide-eyed.))
Kelsrod: ((I tried to get it to come back from the lock, which is why I only just now got back in.))
Narrator: ((Long story short, the castle nearly fell apart, the dungeon floor caved in, a dragon came through, grabbed Kumbrin, and disappeared down the hole))
Kelsrod: ((The HELL?))

** Caedmon spots Kelsrod and another man at the bottom of the hole, a strange man **
** Caedmon jumps off of Trok's back as soon as it's safe, runs up to Savath and GRABS him by the shoulders. **
Caedmon: Are you going to turn into a giant animal on us!?!?
Savath: No, what?
Caedmon: Do you have a tiny dragon for a sister!?!?
Savath: umm.. no?
Caedmon: Are you capable of walking on verical or near-vertical surfaces at will!?!?
** Savath looks around fairly worried. "No? What are you talking about? **
Caedmon: . . . so what you're telling me is, you're a completely and perfectly normal human being??
Savath: I think so.
** Caedmon releases Savath and emits a profound sigh of relief. **
Caedmon: Just checking.

Trok'kael: " The dragon probably knows the way out, lets follow it "
** Trok'kael looks for tracks... which souldnt be hard. **
Caedmon: Follow the dragon?
Trok'kael: " I doubt it lives down here "
Caedmon: Okay, my objections to that plan of action are as follows, and this is in no particular order.
Caedmon: One.
Caedmon: IT'S A F***ING DRAGON!!!!

Narrator: When last we left off our protagonists, they have just escaped from the Baron's dungeon by means of a sudden dragon.

Narrator: ((Weasels count as loot now?))
Trok'kael: (( apparently ))
Trok'kael: (( Or Caedmon likes bondage ))

Caedmon: ((If this were CoC, Caedmon would have failed like 4 or 5 sanity checks in a row, and would currently be beating you all to death with a steel dildo.))
Narrator: ((I'd have cast aspersions on his sanity for having one in the first place))
Naila: ((what? every guy needs a steel dildo...))
Narrator: ((Right. What was I thinking? I'm going to go out and buy one right now))
Caedmon: ((oh, it was Morgan's . . . ))
Caedmon: ((he didn't tell, I didn't ask.))
Savath: ((he had one?))
Narrator: ((No, but he had this huge, limp lizard))

Narrator: ((Rule #2))
Narrator: ((Trok, tell him about rule #2))
Trok'kael: (( Never forget rule 1 ))
Narrator: ((*ert* Wrong!))
Narrator: ((Rule #2: When the GM errs in your favor, don't argue!))
Trok'kael: (( When the DM rules in your favour, dont tell him ))

Savath: If my horses are still there they have trail rations with them ((I think, I took them off my sheet when I "lost" them))
Kelsrod: ((If Naila's horse is still there, stay away from it, it might try to sodomize you.))
Caedmon: ((If Naila's horse is still there, then I'd say the food problem is solved . . .))

Narrator: Floor one. More barracks, empty hallways, big collapsed pile of rocks.
** Caedmon descends to floor 2 **
** Savath follows behind, keeping his crossbow tucked closely **
Narrator: Floor 2. Servan't quarters, dead bodies, deep crack running through the length of the level.
** Kelsrod sighs. **
** Caedmon considers briefly the possibility that their gear is in the serveants' quarters, then rejects it and decends to level 3. **
Narrator: Floor 3. Guestrooms, large a chasm running through the middle of the castle, a man who sees you, screams "Elves!" and runs off.
Savath: Well that's not very nice.

Caedmon: As it happens, we're not hostile, and we want to help if we can. But we can't, and we sure as hell WON'T, if you're trying to kill us!
Voice: Oh, helpful, are ye? Damned neighboorly o' ye! Jes' came around an' decided t' play th' Good Mairan, have ye?
Caedmon: Friend, we can discuss atruistic ethics, or we can throw you a rope. Not both. What's your pleasure?
Voice: I don' need yer stinkin' rope!
Kelsrod: ((Well, all right, Rambo.))

Kelsrod: ((For the record, I think "I was having breakfast when the ground split beneath me" would be a great first line for a novel.))

Caedmon: (loudly) Tis Caedmon Thaal, Cadmus. We escaped from your dungeon when . . . when THIS happened, and found another way to the surface. We've returned for our gear, and to see if anyone survived.
Narrator: There is a long silence.
Cadmus: Damn it, yer supposed t' be dead! Th' entire dungeon collapsed!
Cadmus: Is that yer ghost or somethin'?
Caedmon: Would a ghost worry about behing shot full of arrows?
Cadmus: How in th' hells am I supposed t' know? Never been one 'fore!

Caedmon: All right, the rope's secure. Now, if you'd be so good as to send over one of your men with our gear . . .
Cadmus: Hah. An' then have ye kill him an' cut the rope?
Caedmon: Why would I do that?
Cadmus: Why wouldn' ye?
Caedmon: Why WOULD I?
Cadmus: Because ye asked fer yer gear first off?

** Caedmon rolls his eyes at Sa'ara. "Oh, stop being a bloody plot device." **
Sa'aragra: *Caedmon* I will if you stop acting like some hero.
** Caedmon stops in his tracks and looks at Sa'ara thoughtfully. **
Caedmon: I do have a bit of a hero complex, don't I?
Sa'aragra: *Caedmon* You mean you've just noticed?
Caedmon: Hmm.
Caedmon: Perhaps I should switch directions.
Caedmon: Perhaps I should try to be an evil bastard
Caedmon: Of course, then I'd end up a reluctant in-spite-of-myself hero.
Trok'kael: " As long as I get to do the talking Caedmon. "
** Trok'kael smiles. **
** Caedmon looks at Trok. **
Caedmon: Only if I can strangle your sister.

** Caedmon sighs. "Damn our polythestic society anyway. Ah well." **

Narrator: As you step through the door, you behold a dimly lit interior that... however, comparative archtecture becomes the least of your concerns when a dark shape detaces itself from the wall and points a sword at Caedmon's chest. "Ye have five words to explain yerself adequately, else ye die," a harsh female voice demands.
Trok'kael: (( we came to pray ))
Trok'kael: (( then we get 1 more word ))
Savath: ((Please?))

Warden Ceria: Arrogant and pious, all rolled into one. I'd say a typical Flame... but then, a typical Flame would've been ravin' at th' mouth now, about heathen gods an' women who don' know their proper place.
Warden Ceria: So I'll write ye off as a typical male then.

Caedmon: ((how old is Ceria? is she at all attractive?))
Trok'kael: (( Tip: Hitting on the female warden pointing a sword at you is a *bad* idea. ))
Caedmon: ((Bad ideas are Caedmon's watchword.))

Caedmon: ((I was going to try some flattery, dammit, and wouldn't want to have to lie))
Caedmon: ((besides, Caedmon's the type to be all mysterious and alluring until he finally sweeps her off her feet and kisses her))
Warden Ceria: ((At which point she puts a dagger in your kidney))

** Savath looks to the "sky" and gives a "not bad" expresion **

** Caedmon pauses, asking himself whether he really wants to say what he's about to say, and decides he does. **
Trok'kael: (( Would you join me for a meal tonight? ))
Narrator: ((You're not as old as you look))

Warden Ceria: *scornfully* Who do ye think ye are anyway? Ye think ye can jes' come into town an' proclaim "I'm here t' solve all yer problems" from th' rooftops? An' maybe even expect people t' say "Oh, alright"? Like some damned hero from a fairly tale?

** Caedmon sulks as they proceed to the town hall, his hero complex sadly unfulfilled **

Narrator: ((And here is a good place to break for tonight))
Trok'kael: (( damn... ! ))
Narrator: ((Oh, ok, go ahead and tease Caedomn for a bit))
Narrator: ((I'll give you 10 minutes))

Trok'kael: So, did I detect you falling in love before she told you to bugger off?
Caedmon: You most certainly did not.
Trok'kael: " Ahh, but you blushed "
Savath: What did you say to her?
Caedmon: I blushed because I thought I'd insulted her.
Savath: You insulted her? You can't be left alone for 5 minutes!
Trok'kael: " Hah, you don't blush when you insult someone, you blush when your embarrased "
** Savath crack a smile **
** Caedmon glares witheringly at Savath **

Trok'kael: " I'll bring this up some other time Caedmon, you haven't had the last of my taunting. "
** Trok'kael grins **
** Caedmon stops in his snow-covered tracks **
Caedmon: No . . . we came because I remembered a convenient stopping point, convenient both for our journey and my own spiritual health.
Trok'kael: And for love.
** Trok'kael grins again **
Trok'kael: Onwards ! To the grayish Mayor.
** Caedmon glares at Trok. **
Caedmon: Aye. And if your sister should choose to bite your chin off en route, I'll not weep bitterly.
Narrator: Session 19 ends... with love.

Caedmon: And no, I wasn't purposefully flirting with Ceria -- as will likely be explained next session, I'm still kinda pining for someone else.
Maxymiuk: Caedmon, you didn't need to tell us that.
Maxymiuk: Now needling you just won't feel the same.

Caedmon: We're passing through, on our way to White Tower Wood.
Narrator: ((We're off to see the Tower... the wonderful White Tower Wood...))
Narrator: ((There's Dorocaedmon, and Totosonja. The Scarevath, Kelion, and Tin'trok))
Savath: ((Why do I have to be the Scarevath?))

Narrator: Savath eventually makes his way back from the temple.
Caedmon: (as Savath enters) Really, that many? I myself have only torn the hearts out of eighteen men with my bare hands.
Caedmon: Wizards all. Can't stand the buggers.
Caedmon: Oh, hello, Savath.

Maxymiuk: So a quick breakdown: not much happened.
Maxymiuk: Expanded breakdown: Savath had a conversation with Ceria about life in general and Ehlonna in specific.
Maxymiuk: Trok and Caedmon shared their life stories.
Maxymiuk: And the group (theoretically) has a new member that has a thing for his horse.
Kelsrod: Again???
Kelsrod: What is it with this group and horses?
Maxymiuk: What is with this group and animals, you mean?
Simon: this horse isnt gay, yet
Kelsrod: Or an eagle.
Maxymiuk: I still remember Caedmon molesting me about the gender of his wolf for undisclosed reasons.
Simon: He was lonely.

Maxymiuk: Last night the ultimate goal of the campaign slid into focus for me
Maxymiuk: It involves some of my usual moral tangles. And strong possibility of death.
Maxymiuk: And since it looks like you're the only character that's going to stay constant through all this.
Maxymiuk: The plot is going to be, by and large, centered on you.
Maxymiuk: So if everyone dies, you're to blame.
** Caedmon cries **
Caedmon: Have a backup plan in case I disappear mid-plot ;-)
Maxymiuk: Well, if that happens, everyone is screwed.
Maxymiuk: That's what you get for being a hero.

** Keeper Destian props himself up. "Ehlonna's Chosen is known, above all, for utmost respect for life in all its forms. He may not take a life needlessly, nor see a life needlessly extinguished if it is within his power to prevent so." **
** Caedmon nods. **
Trok'kael: (( Caedmon: "I used to be a mass murderer" ))

Kelsrod: ((Perhaps Kelsrod should get drunk. It would be an interesting and new experience for him.))

Zacred: "So how did you end up in this band of Caedmon's?"
Kelsrod: "I was going the same direction they were. Or decided I was. Met on the road...been traveling a week or so. Two weeks? Can't remember. Out to seek my fortune." He waves an arm and nearly knocks over his mug. "M'teacher was getting hitched, y'see. Wife wasn't comfortable around me, me being human. They were going to move closer to the enclave. I coulda stayed at the old place but decided to see the world. Well, I've been sheein' it. Seeing. Seen villagers starvin' coz of goblins starvin'. Seen a dragon wind up leadin' goblins. Seen a bear that was already dead almost kill me. Seen a dungeon, and more dragons. Still haven't seen a desert or a Dwarven city. Gotta work on that. Save th'world first though." He takes a mighty pull from his mug.
Narrator: At this moment - perhaps conveniently so - Caedmon appears in the entrance.
** Kelsrod raises his mug in a toast and almost sloshes its contents out. "Here he is now! Hail, Caedmon, the human lodeshtone!" **

Caedmon: (softly) Found a friend of ours outside.
Zacred: "Umm... An invisible one?"
Savath: **quietly** The small dragon that the half elf belongs to
** Zacred whispers "You mean that belongs to the half-elf?" **
Savath: **quietly** No.

Caedmon: (softly) Since Trok isn't with you, can we assume he's in trouble again?
Sa'aragra: *Caedmon* What do you think?
** Caedmon sighs. "Tell me what happened, then." **
Sa'aragra: *Caedmon* He decided to pick a fight, what else? While wearing that elven stuff you lot found in the caverns.
Caedmon: . . . . . .
Caedmon: okay, let's just settle this right now . . .
Caedmon: why, WHY in the name of all the gods did you decide to adopt such an IDIOT?

Trok'kael: I have told you truthfully. We came here to resupply.
Trok'kael: We were then asked to solve this... siege, peacefully.
Marshal Terone: By whom?
Trok'kael: Various people, townsfolk.
Trok'kael: Well, not directly, but we try to do good.
Trok'kael: We asked what the situation was about.
Marshal Terone: ((Ok, that's such a bad lie that I HAVE to ask for a bluff check))

Elven Paladin
2007-06-25, 02:11 AM
Alright I have a gaming anecdote I'd like to add. The following comes from a character I ran in a HackMaster game-a CN Cleric of Thor who was much more interested in bragging about the size of Thor's arms and hitting things with his warhammer than healing the party.

Now to keep things in context, the party was largely an evil one. Our team leader was a Dark Knight named eh...well **** Mc****ed. It's better not to ask...

Anyway, our party had just gotten out of jail after my character, Sven Coldiron, had incited a riot among the churches. My fellow clerics, ashamed of the dishonor I had brought them decreed that I must wear the Stone of Repentance, basically a really big boulder, around my neck.

The first thing I asked was, "May I use the Stone to crush the heads of my enemies?" They didn't like that, but sent us on our way nonetheless.

Now, in the course of us having to talk our way out of prison, we had gained the enmity of a powerful paladin. He knew that we were guilty, and wasted no time in tracking us down. He caught up with us when we reached the dungeon, and began to taunt our leader, trying to encourage to strike first.

Y'see in HackMaster, Paladins cannot intiate combat.

Well anyway, our fearless leader had decided, along with the rest of the party, that there was no way we could take this particular zealot, and decided he was quite comfortable with just standing there and taking the paladin's jeers. But I couldn't stand to see my leader's honor tarnished like that. I raised my warhammer, and with a mighty warcry, "For the party...if Thor approves!" I launched it at the paladin with a -4 penalty, and crit, knocking the sword from his hand.

After a short battle, vanquishing the paladin, we decided to go to a different city in order to lick our wounds. All I had to say was, "The city? I hate the city...there are so many rules."

I hope that was enjoyable as the OP.

Foxtale
2007-06-25, 05:38 AM
Also, the brilliant fun of testing out loot rather than spending gp on actually identifying what it does.

Kharnath: (our paladin) I wonder if this sword has some kind of flame-
Narrator: The sword bursts into flames.
Kharnath: Woah! Okay, I touch the sword.
Narrator: You get burned. Take four damage.

Badger: (gnome sorcerer/elemental savant) Guys, if I happen to have thrown a rock into that pond, would you be mad at me?
Book: (cleric/dragonslayer) Not really.
Badger: What if I happened to cast Light on it first?
Amreth: (rogue/shadowdancer) Not really. *Starts to get worried.*
Badger: And if I just... you know... happened to wake up a Hydra with it, that's okay too, right?
All: ...
Badger (after fighting the Hydra): Hey look, a rock!
Book: NOO!

Watching a black dot circling the town.
Badger: Is that a zepplin?
Amreth: What's a zepplin?
Kobane: (ranger) It's kind of like a dragon.
Amreth: So... like that dragon?

Book: It's alright, we can survive a breath attack, if we can make it to the town. Let's ride!
Narrator: The dragon's breath kills your horses. You all fall.

Narrator: The dragon is flying at you.
Badger: I cast Fly, then Invisibility, then move.
Narrator: The dragon is still flying at you.

manda_babylon
2007-06-25, 09:46 PM
La Academié:

This D20 Past game is set in 1650, in the heavily-French-based world of Versailles. [One of the characters, Kelsea, is from Norsai, which is this world's version of Norway. One of the jokes plays on this.]

Matthew=Charles
Shanda=Marius
Kim=Lamont
Sheena=Kelsea
Candance=Martel
Funki=Allyn
Manda=GM, Aramis, Duende, Phillippe, Random Priest

Manda: "You should all meet in the dining hall."
Shanda: "They're going to kill us all!"
Manda: "...Or... They're going to have the meeting they've been talking about for the past two days..."

Manda: [to Funki and Kim] "Okay, Team Crime..."
Kim: "Why are we Team Crime?"
Manda: "Because every time the two of you go anywhere together, you break and enter, nearly burn the building down, steal things, perform extortion, and beat up women and priests."
Both: "Oh, yeah..."

Shanda: "Nobody died."
Manda: "Except for those two guys you killed."

Sheena: "I want to go to the dueling area and search for some more letters."
Manda: "You find a P and a Q."
Funki: "Which are brought to you by the numbers one through three."

Sheena: "The jig is up and you are ****ing."

Kelsea: "We just came back from Mass, but that doesn't mean all your sins are gone."

Manda: "Charles, I love you!"
Shanda: "I am not saying that yet!"
Manda: "Charles, I am intrinsically and somewhat bafflingly attached to you!"

Manda: "You had a romantic dinner before checking to see if your friend was dead."
Shanda: "He wasn't really my friend."

Manda: [on The Retard Twins] "They couldn't find an envelope in a desk full of letters."

Manda: (to Candance) "Francis of Assisi has nothing to do with Chicken of the Sea."

Manda: (to Kim) "So what are you doing in the church besides having sex with the virgin priest character?"

Manda: "He (Aramis) fought Porthos yesterday, and he realized how easy it was to knife him and get away with it, so now he wants to do it all the time."
Candance: "This is how mass murderers start."
Manda: "Aramis is a Mass murderer?"

Kelsea: "Just for the record... I don't want to do anything that makes me dead."

Marius: "We were immediately concerned and decided to..."
Manda: "Have a good night's sleep before setting out."

Funki: "Can you (Candance) handle his (Athos') burning passion?"
Manda: "If your passion starts burning, you should see a doctor."

Manda: "Ryngo picked every lock he came across. If there was a lock, he picked it. If there wasn't a lock, he made one. And then he picked it."

Manda: "If you sink intelligence, you end up like D'Artagnan. He started with only four skill points."
Kim: "What did you put them in?"
Manda: "Fail."

Marius: "Blah." (Repeating what he had learned from his Investigate check)
Aramis: "That's very interesting, Marius."
Marius: "It's a skill."

Kelsea: "But why would someone send D'Artagnan? He's... simple."
Aramis: "Because no one expects..."
Everyone: "The Spanish Inquisition!"
Aramis: "...An idiot..."

Funki: "Are you going to do any sort of one-on-one thing with Martel to catch him back up?"
Manda: "No, because he's dead..."

Martel: "Are you the somebody Athos told me to wait for?"
Marius: "Yes."
Kelsea: "Richelieu sent us. We've come to get Duende. To take him back to... La Academié."
Manda: "We've come to get the guy you kidnapped and take him back to the place you took him from."

Random Priest: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Charles: [Disguised as Rochefort] "He wanted to learn how to fly."
Random Priest: "Stop it! Stop it! This is... something similar to a House of God!"

[After discovering 'Rochefort' is actually Charles in disguise]
Duende: (shocked) "Witchcraft!"
Allyn: (deadpan) "Make-up."

Funki: "How do you cook? Craft food?"
Sheena: "You build food, with hammer and nails."

Lamont: "I didn't think Rochefort would be convinced with mere words."
Manda: "So I decided to flay his skin from his bones."
Shanda: "And throw him out the window."

Phillippe: "Where are we going?"
Allyn: "To church."
Phillippe: "Now? Why?"
Allyn: "It's time to pray."
Phillippe: "It's four in the morning."
Allyn: "Exactly."

Marius: "His (Aramis') trust in us is inspiring."
Allyn: "It's not like we raped anybody."
[everyone looks at Lamont]
Allyn: "It's not like we murdered anybody."
[everyone looks at Kelsea]

[In a non-magical game]
Sheena: "That's a 27 for telepathy."
Manda: "The DC is 59, so you fail."

Shanda: "We're going to the kitchen to complain about the food, and Lamont wants some cayenne pepper."
Manda: "Why?!"
Shanda: "You don't know?"
Manda: "I do know, but I'm hoping he'll say something else. I'm hoping he wants to make a delicious chili."

Shanda: "I heard that Norsai is the worst place to go to see a show. ... I mean Norway."
Manda: "I was going to say. Its reputation precedes its creation."

Manda: "D'Artagnan's mind is like a labyrinth filled with hamsters."

Kelsea: "Holy ****, Father, I don't know if I've sinned or not, but I really need to talk about this..."

Shanda: "We were planning to go out on the town as a merry band of rouges."
Matthew: "I'm not a rouge."
Shanda: "You're an accomplice."

Sheena: "Perform: Romance."
Manda: "Craft: Mood."

Manda: "It's all you can eat beer night."
Shanda: "You mean all you can drink?"
Manda: "No."

Marius: "Too bad none of us have dice."
Manda: "That's a pretty ironic statement."

Manda: "It's not that he [Lamont] wants to cross-dress, it's just that he's lazy."

Funki: "Marius drops Lamont for the exploding boyfriend."
Manda: "Roll a Demolitions Check to impress your sweet lover with your sweet fireworks of love."

Manda: "Suuuuuuure. Break the dragon's stuff. See how that works out for you."

Crossroads: Tangent

This D20 Modern game is set in a world called Crossroads, the world that acts as the point of intersection between quantum realities. Each of our characters are from different worlds and are different species.

Manda=Lisbon - a vampire and librarian from 1850s Versailles.
Shanda=Daric - a World of Darkness vampire from present day United States.
Kim=Eric - a tiefling and lust demon from present day United States.
Sheena=Tristan - a rabbit-person from a world inhabited by rabbits, foxes, and other animals.
Funki=Kora - an organic cyborg powered by nanobots from a futuristic world.
Candance=Joe - a normal guy from the normal world, also, a daredevil.
Matthew=GM, other characters

[Funki and Candance high five]
Candance: "Ow."
Manda: "Don't high five him! He's got combat martial arts!"

Joe: "Office work? That doesn't sound so bad."
Lisbon: "Of course it doesn't. That means it must be evil."

Joe: "What were you expecting?"
Manda: "The Spanish Inquisition?"

Joe: "So, Miz Airheart, I could just get on the internet and search for a world where Amazon women take men for sex slaves?"

Matthew: "Because none of us here is a vampire."
Manda: "Shut up, stupid GM."
Funki: "None of us are a Rampire."
Manda: "A Rampire?"
Funki: "That's what happens if Kora gets turned into a vampire because she's a robot." (later) "Or a Rompire."

Matthew: "You see some worktables, some computer towers..."
Funki: "A displacer beast."
Matthew: "Yeah..."
Manda: "WHAT?!"

Funki: "I'll wait until Tristan and Lisbon get back from their homosexuality."
Manda: "There was no homosexuality in the bathroom!"
Funki: "No, but you were naked in a bubble bath with the rabbit."

Tristan: "I've been present at a lot of vicinities and I don't remember any explosions."

Funki: " If she's [Manda] getting a vorpal sword, can I have a lightsaber?"
Manda: [the GM's fiancee] "No, because you're not sleeping with the GM."
Funki: "Oh, aren't I?"
Manda: "...Oh."
Matthew: [the GM] "What?!"

Manda: "Shinrai has always been this way. He came out of his mother's womb drunk and then threw up on her."

Manda: "A 29 doesn't notice it?! I don't want to see it!"

Manda: "Mother Theresa. This bar fight's becoming an explosion."

Tristan: "I have handcuffs."
Lisbon: "I don't think that would hold him."
Tristan: "I have a corset."
Lisbon: "I'm sure that will hold him."
Tristan: "Or make him feel sexy."

Kora: "Are we going to chop this thing's legs off? The table, I mean, not the vampire?"

Matthew: "Roll a sense motive."
Manda: "I botch!"
Matthew: "You believe him."
Manda: "I totally believe him. I would buy candy dipped in cocaine from this man."

Matthew: (to Shanda) "Roll a Fort Save to see if you're hungry."
Shanda: [rolls] "No, I'm good. I have like half a tank."
Matthew: "Okay, so you're fine."
Manda: "Unless we drive on the interstate."

Sheena: "I was going to use Diplomacy, but I can't remember what I was going to say."
Shanda: "The rabbit makes an inarticulate sound that is endearing."

Manda: "He's not offended, it's just... There's a rabbit man sitting there, playing the violin while wearing a pair of boxers and a corset."

[On learning the man they're searching for is supposed to be dead]
Tristan: "Maybe we're supposed to find his body."
Daric: "It's still walking around and making bad jokes."

Daric: [pointing at Kora in an attempt to look as though he doesn't know her, using a voice of exaggerated surprise] "Good grief, isn't that ****ing strange!"

Lisbon: "You were holding a small child against her will in a burning building?! I want to see your supervisor!"

Daric: "Generally, it's not a good idea to report incompetence."

Manda: "Too bad we don't have a knife to cut this delicious cake."
Sheena: "Oh, yes, we do!"
Manda: (disbelieving) "You want me to cut this cake with a switchblade?"
Sheena: "Yes."

Matthew: "Dammit, Daric, stop stealing ****! You guys are already terrorists."

Shanda: "You could do a striptease."
Kim: "It wouldn't really last long before it was indecent exposure."
Manda: "That's the best kind of striptease."
Candance: "When somebody gets arrested."
Manda: "You know you're doing it right when somebody calls the cops."

Eric: "Well, we weren't really avoiding the cameras because we weren't really doing anything illegal."
Lisbon: "Except when we set the building on fire. That was kind of illegal."

Crossroads: Small Story

This D20 Modern/Urban Arcana game features a supernatural detective agency. We take turns GMing it and rotate our characters in and out.

Manda=Mandar - a mystic who constantly makes scared v. sexy saves. [GMs]
Shanda=Myra - a negotiator who doesn't get why everyone's so crazy.
Kim=Kirian - a dragon-blooded wildlord who is often out of place.
Sheena=Shinoshi - another dragon-blooded, a shadow stalker who chain smokes and is addicted to everything. [GMs]
Funki=Brianna - a vainglorious psyonic who wears sailor fukus a lot.
Candance=Canada - a panda bear morovian who sleeps too much.
Matthew=Massu - a criminal acolyte who's kind of a whore. [GMs]

"We Didn't Do It Detective Agency. Whatever it is, we didn't do it, but of you want us to, we will, for the right price!"

Funki: "I take a ten [on Brianna's Drive check] because I'm not under duress."
Manda: "You're in the car with me - that counts as duress."

Manda: "They don't know we're coming."
Funki: "...Unless they rolled a detect magic or psionics. Then, they probably know we're coming."
Manda: "But! We would detect their detecting of us!"

Manda: "Well, I'm a rough-and-tumble, devil-may-care sort of mage ... with really low HP."

[After a 10-minute discussion over strategy and spell-lists]
Mandar: [kicks in the door] "BLAM! NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUSITION!"

Mandar: [to Madame Morose] "I'm coming for you! ... For your box! ... For your magic box! ... For the computer?"

Mandar: "Why are you doing this? What are you getting out of it? Who put you up to it? How are you doing it? Why are you doing it?"
Brianna: "You already asked that."
Mandar: "I know, I was asking twice for clarification, meaning, Why are you doing is specifically, like, why bother with this and not something else? What are you hoping to gain from all of this? And, most importantly, What are you doing tomorrow night around seven o'clock?"
Morose: "I've been contracted out to do it by a man named Massu. He told me what he wanted, and I made it happen. A contract is a contract, you know? I don't know why he wants to do it. I just get paid to run the computer."
Brianna: "Where do we find this Massu?"
Mandar: "She didn't tell us what she's doing tomorrow at seven!"
Brianna: (louder, cutting him off) "Where do we find this Massu?"

Mandar: "Stay back, bitch. The snake woman wants a threesome, and I'm gonna give it to her."

Mandar: "We've got a Lamia lined up."
Massu: "Really? A Lamia?"
Brianna: "Madam Morose is a Yuan-ti, not a Lamia."
Mandar: "Right. Ashanti the Marilyn Monroe. I remember her clearly."

Manda: "We're not going to fight anything. We're just going to run up to it, have sex with it, and leave."
[Manda, Funki high-five]

Manda: "I don't think kissing is a melee attack action."

Brianna: "I'll hold the camera."
Shinoshi: "You can be the camera."
All: "What?!"

Shinoshi: "And I wanted to **** you like a toaster oven."

Manda: "Shinoshi's getting vaguely Russian again."
Sheena: "He has a cigarette in his mouth."
Manda: "Cigarettes make him Russian?"

Manda: "It's not a triceratops."
Kim: "No, we can tell it's not a triceratops."
Manda: "They're a growing problem in the modern world."
Kim: "Triceratops generally don't ooze acid."
Manda: "Oh, some of them do. Pray you never meet them."

Kim: "None of us are equipped to be the good cop."
Manda: "We just go from Bad Cop, to Worse Cop, to Jesus Christ, It's A Lion Cop."

Shanda: "I move to the back, because I am suspicious of both dark rooms and opera music."

Sheena: "There is a dead body in the floor. It is not Shinoshi."
Mandar: "Well, this is somewhat distressing, but not altogether unexpected."

Sheena: "You were going to search the desk?"
Manda: "I was going to, yes." [rolls] "I botch. ...Apparently, as I approach the desk, I slip in the most likely copious amounts of blood from his slit throat and bonk into the desk."
Sheena: "You lose..." [rolls] "Four HP."
Manda: "Four HP?! What's the desk made out of? Wrought iron, sheet metal, and teeth?!"

Myra: "Oh, it's another one of those cults stapling something to our door."

Shinoshi: [After having sex in the kitchen] "What's this about candy? By the way, the dishes are no longer clean."

Shinoshi: "Take the candy, bitch. We get paid salary, not hourly."

Myra: "There is a back entrance."
Shinrai: "Tried it."
Myra: "Have you tried scaling the building?"
Shinrai: "Tried it. He shut the window on my hands."
Shinoshi: "Have you tried hiding yourself in the belly of a pregnant woman?"
Shinrai: "Tried it. I fell out."

Myra: "I throw an aborted fetus at you!"
Shinoshi: "You wanted to spray pepper spray at me!"
Myra: "You threatened to rape me without a condom!"

Manda: "I'm going to walk down the street and slight of hand someone's cell phone."
Matthew: "Roll for it."
Manda: "... It's a 12."
Matthew: [rolls] "You steal his cell phone successfully, but he notices you groping at him."
Guy: "Hey!"
Manda: "I'm going to grab him and kiss him."
Matthew: "...Okay. You do that."
Guy: "Wha---mmmmph!"
Manda: "I'm going to let him go, and be like,"
Mandar: "Oh! You're not Pietro! Sorry, man."
Matthew: "He's going to run off. But he thinks you were kind of hot."
Mandar: "Call me!" [looks at cell phone] "...Oh, wait."

[Mandar botches a Hide check and stands in the corner with a lampshade on his head. Sevet enters and stops short when he sees him.]
Mandar: "I'm a lamp."
Sevet: [fails a sense motive check] "...?"

Ranis
2007-06-25, 10:09 PM
My buddy plays a Warmage in my game, and he's a 3rd year Chemistry major.

Alex: Hey Drew, question about your game.
Drew: Shoot.
Alex: Can my Warmage take the appropriate time to acquire some Bonemeal from one of the zombies we just killed before resting?
Drew: You may not set the atmosphere on fire.
Alex: Awww, nerts.

Ghal Marak
2007-06-26, 12:02 AM
Ohhh.... I can't stop crying! That was some of the most hilarious things I have ever laid my eyes upon! :smallbiggrin: Whew. I'm glad that I read this. Thank you for sharing.

Talya
2007-06-26, 12:19 AM
Shadow Dragon to the party: "Hello adventurers."
Cleric: "Uh, hi."
Paladin: "Oh, yes, greetings."
Sorceress: *silent*
Ranger: *silent*
Shadow Dragon: "What will you give me to allow you to leave here with your lives?"
Paladin: "Uh..."
Cleric: "Well, you can have this wonderful hammer, but I'll have to administer it rectally."
Sorceress: "Oh ****."
DM: Roll initiative.

TheOOB
2007-06-26, 12:33 AM
I got a few, keep in mind these are all paraphrased.

Milo Greeves, halfling wizard, falls out of the window into a circle of waiting guards planning on arresting him

Guards: Surrender small one and you will no be hurt
Milo: Fear my arcane power!
Rolls a natural 1 on intimidate, guard promptly smacks him on the back of the head, knocking him out.

Later, milo is wearing a collar that shocks him whenever he tries to cast a spell

Milo: I need to get this collar off so we can escape
Rogue: Dude, don't we don't need a dead halfling, wait a second
Milo: Maybe if I cast knock...
Milo gets shocked
Milo: Ow...maybe if I'm not grounded
Milo jumps in the air and casts while airborn...and gets shocked
Milo: ...perhaps if I ground myself on the metal cage I can discharge the electricity
Milo, gets shocked down to one hp
Rogue: Alright got mine off... need some help with yours?
Milo: ...crap

DraPrime
2007-06-26, 02:10 PM
This was said right after a fight. My character (Vrast) got his mind taken over and attacked the other character (Brelnab).

Brelnab: What I don't understand is why you had to bash through 5 walls instead of going through the door

Vrast: 5 walls and a floor.

Brelnab: Fine, 5 walls and a floor, all of this just to kill me!

Vrast: Well it's not like you were expecting me to come crashing through the ceiling.

Brelnab: Yes, but was throwing the bed at me needed?

Vrast: Alright, so I dropped the bed on you. I had to stop you somehow!

Brelnab: What the hell is wrong with you? You're acting as if you enjoyed having your mind taken over so that you could attack me!

Rocktopotomus
2007-07-30, 08:29 AM
not from dnd, but amusing anyway.

we were playing the starwars rpg and something crazy happened
and my friend in character and on the spur of the moment yelled "what the force?!"

AslanCross
2007-07-30, 10:17 AM
The Black and the Purple
Forgotten Realms campaign, set in Cormyr, which is on the brink of being invaded by the Zhentarim.
Me= DM and NPCs
{table]Player|Character|Personality
Aldrich|Alioth(Aasimar Paladin of Tyr)|Doesn't talk much despite 18 CHA.
Yana|Milica(Human Swashbuckler)|Snarky, spoiled, squeamish noble brat. Likes emasculating enemies.
Kelsy|Lesa(Wood Elf Ranger/Druid)|Maternal but bossy "guide."
Kate|Kieran(Half-Elf Rogue)|Chicken in battle but sharp with her tongue.
Ice|Acantha(Human Cleric of Kelemvor)|Emo. That is all.
Wacko|Azareth(Moon Elf Wizard)|Slightly paranoid. Cannot tell the difference between hobbos and orcs.[/table]

The party was hired by Princess Alusair Obarskyr to investigate a garrison that has been taken over by a hostile force. Party is being briefed.
Kieran: I have a question, your highness.
Alusair: Certainly.
Kieran: If we die, will Cormyr pay for our funeral expenses?
Alusair: If your corpses are found.
Kieran: Can we at least have a memorial?

The party is breaking into a garrison that was taken over by hobgoblins in the employ of the Zhentarim. They fail their move silently checks horribly and blunder straight into the first encounter.
Alioth: I open the door.
Me: You see three burly humanoid guards. They are over six feet tall, have hairy skin and flat noses. They are armed with longswords and shields. They are obviously hostile. A character who has Knowledge:Local may attempt a check to figure out what they are.
Yana: I have that! *rolls* *Natural 1*
Milica: Oh, look! Friends!
Me: ...okay, fine. You remember that these are hobgoblins: intelligent, warlike humanoid creatures who are quite disciplined in warfare.
Kieran: Can we just...run away?
Azareth: Fear not, I have faced orcs before!
Alioth: But these are hobgoblins.
Azareth: THAT DOES NOT MATTER!

The party is sneaking around the garrison, exploring some side rooms.
Azareth: Are you sure this is a good idea? Are you willing to risk getting seen by orcs?
Everyone: HOBGOBLINS!
...a few minutes later, while investigating a switch...
Azareth: I can pull the switch. Watch my back, though--I was once attacked by orcs--
Everyone: These are HOBGOBLINS!
...later, fighting the garrison's captain, who is a huge hobgoblin with a flaming greatsword:
Azareth: That...is NOT..an orc.
Everyone: *gasp*
...while looting the captain's body:
Alioth: My pack's full. Milica can take the chain shirt.
Milica: But...but...this smells of non-orc!


Yana: Milica aims at a hobgoblin's groin. *Rolls a crit*
Me: The hobgoblin curses you in its native language and bleeds profusely onto the floor before it dies.
Azareth and Alioth: *wince*
...in a later encounter...
Acantha: I attack the hobgoblin with my heavy aspergillum, striking it on the shoulder.
Milica, NPCed by me due to player absence: What kind of a blow was that?! AIM LOW! *Aims at a hobgoblin's groin and crits again, but the damage isn't fatal.*
Milica, RPing supplied by Yana afterward: ...Uuuurgh. It worked the first time.


The party breaks into a mess hall while the hobgoblins are eating.
Azareth: I move to the wall and cast lightning bolt on these four hobgoblins. *Rolls high, kills all of them*
Kieran: I enter after Azareth.
Me: The hobgoblins surround you, Kieran.
Kieran: *whimper*
...several power-attacked Hobgoblin attack actions later...
Kieran, to Azareth: This is your fault!
Azareth: ...but I'm the fragile wizard! I need you to protect my fragile body!

Due to a mistake, Azareth casts Magic Weapon on Kieran's rapier but forgets that it doesn't stack with Masterwork bonuses. As a result, Kieran's rapier glows magically, but doesn't do anything special.
Hobgoblin Cleric: *casts Contagion and attempts a touch attack on Kieran, and misses.
Kieran: Hah! My glowing weapon scared him!
Me: You eyeballin' my piece?!? YOU LIKE MY PIECE?!

Maxymiuk
2007-07-30, 11:33 AM
Here's a set of quotes from a grittier campaign featuring a group of thugs and cutthroats. Well... at least they try to be.


Narrator: We open with the sunset over the fair city of Osseron. It is late autumn - almost winter, but the weather has treated you to one of those rare, warm, perfectly clear days.
Narrator: Now is the hour when shopkeepers close their shops, and honest folk head to bed.
Narrator: Dishonest folk, on the other hand, head for the nearest tavern.

Narrator: On the last landing before the staircase up to Jack's chambers you have to step aside for a woman making her way down. Her appearance... well, let's put it this way: it's common knowledge that Jack likes them chubby.
Narrator: She sends Diggory a lusty wink as she passes you.
Diggory: *cringes at the wink* "I'm not a meat pie, go find someone else to eat."
Woman: Well, aintcha just cute, all pouty like that. *she pats Diggory's cheek*
** Diggory bites her finger as she reaches for his face **

Aurelio: Petrus, wake up, we need to talk to you... NOW.
** Diggory smacks himself in the head as Aurelio gives them away. "So much for sneaking up to his bedside." **

Jur'zit: " I myself want to be at the top of the dirtiest game I know "
Jur'zit: " Politics "
Dervon: "Ah, ambitious, are we?"
Jur'zit: " Indeed "
Diggory: "Great... your new reputation as a thug should do you great in the future." :acidic sarcasm:
Jur'zit: " And whatever may happen, I'm still a nobleman "
Jur'zit: " And an ex-officer of the army "
Diggory: "Che.. tell that to Petrus."
Jur'zit: " Oh, my men hated me "
Jur'zit: " I had a reputation for cruelty and not caring about my mens lives "
Jur'zit: " But I was efficient at getting things done "
Diggory: "Great... now I know not to follow your advice."

Jur'zit: " Hey Dervon, if I get enough power, I'll make you head of the largest group of thugs we know. "
Diggory: "You mean the City Watch?"
** Jur'zit smiles **
Jur'zit: " Yep "
Diggory: :scoffs: "Great.. in that case, make me the knew Archbishop."
Jur'zit: " I could try, but you need to at least pretend to be pious. "
Diggory: "Don't know the meaning of the word."
Diggory: "Just like you and Noble."

Jur'zit: " Might I mention our boss, Jack? "
Jur'zit: " Jack of Knives "
** Thug shrugs. "Never heard o'him." **
Other Thug: Except when th' boss yells about 'im.
Thug: Aye, true, dat.
Other Thug: 'e does yell a lot.

Narrator: ((It sounds like drunken sleep. The type that takes a fanfare to break someone out of))

** Dervon covers the man's mouth **
Dervon: (( with his hand, obviously ))
Narrator: ((No, really? What other part of the body would you use? :P))
Jur'zit: ( Socks )
Diggory: (tea bag?)

Dervon: (( Damn, wish there was a "Sober Up" spell... ))
Jur'zit: (( it's called Create Water :P)

Narrator: ((And for the record, scaring someone out of seven years worth of life and then expecting them to be coherent?))

** Jur'zit calls back "Yes? " **
Guard: I say! everything alright in there?!
Jur'zit: " We are fine, one of the household was sleepwalking "
Jur'zit: " Unfortunatly, the two gate guards decided to choose the night to celebrate a pay rise. "
Jur'zit: " and though him a ghost "
Guard: Eh? I have a pair of your guards at the watchhouse, telling wild stories about demons and the like!
Jur'zit: " Hold them there please. I will want word with them in the morning, goodnight "
Jur'zit: **bolts for it **

Maxymiuk: I'm predicting at least two people late, one of them by more than 10 minutes
Maxymiuk: But see, if I lower my expectations, I might end up pleasantly surprised
Maxymiuk: So it's a win-win situation for me
** Maxymiuk embraces pessimism as a way of life. **

Maxymiuk: Now questions, queries, criticisms, problems, stuff like that before we start?
Simon: What is Groo?
Maxymiuk: o_O Huh?
Simon: Oh, relating to the game.
Simon: Nevermind :P
** Maxymiuk pimpsmacks Simon into the wall. **

Narrator: The Black Mutt does indeed enjoy the benefit of a back door. It serves as a way to enter and leave for those who don't necessarily want to be noticed, as well as for the occasional drunk brave enough to risk emptying his bladder in the tavern's outhouse.

Jack of Knives: See, each new kid into this game faces a terrible temptation on one o' his first jobs. See, 'e 'as a bit o' luck, maybe gets off with more than 'e 'oped for, and that jus' makes 'im 'appy beyond words. Of course, then comes the thought that maybe, jus' maybe, because it's 'is luck and no one else's, maybe 'e could, or even should keep more than 'is due. Hells, I recall thinkin' jus' like that the first time I fleeced a mark. So I can certainly understand the sentiment. Ya know? *leans forward, smiling disarmingly*
Jur'zit: "If we were going to fleece you, we wouldn't have handed over any extra gold, that way, you would think the job went off as prescribed"
Jur'zit: "Nothing worse than handing over half the extra cash"
Jur'zit: "People get suspisious, and then catch you, worst way to do it"
Jur'zit: ( Exactly what we did, but oh well :P ))
Narrator: ((I think I'm being a bit too subtle with this...))

Narrator: ((*renames Jurz, Diggs, and Dev the Three Stooges*))
Diggory: (Hey, I'm not even there.)
Diggory: (and I demand to be Moe)

Gossip, Rumors, and Hearsay
There is said to be a dragon somewhere to the west, struck with a curse that forces it to mate with anything it encounters. The Gladiator's Arena has already offered a 1000gp bounty for the capture of a half-dragon bull.
Through less official channels, Madame Tracey's House of Fine Repute has offerd a 2000gp bounty for a half-dragon farmer's daughter.

** Diggory nods. "Fine. Is he still in the city?" **
Narrator: ((No, he fled with all his wordly possesions, and now the group must go on an epic adventure spanning the entire continent, and a few neighboring planes of existence to find that damned brewer))
Narrator: ((All for a measly 300 gold))
Narrator: ((And 6 barrels of ale))
Diggory: ((Screw that))

Maxymiuk: btw, just so you know, I'm listening to Russian 80's music, and that always puts me in a peculiar mood

** Narrator opens the floor to the characters. **
** Diggory falls through the open floor into the pit of vipers **

Narrator: ((But little did Dervon know that his potatoes were in fact magically irradiated - in 13 years this would come back with a vengeance, blowing his liver and digestive tract, killing him over a painful period of five months))
Diggory: ((Don't give away the surprises!))
Narrator: ((Hey, I didn't tell him what the sausage would do, did I?))

Jur'zit: " I hear you can steer a ship "
** Gingers takes a draught from a jug "Ayup, guv." Hiccups. "Been sailin' since I wuz but a wee, wee lad." **
Jur'zit: " Can you sober up by tonight? "
Gingers: Sober? Wazzat?

Jur'zit: " Dentrius, can I ask you not to serve him anything with alcohol in? "
Jur'zit: " We need him sober by tonight "
Dentrius: An' ya go bringin' 'im into a bar?

** Dervon grins "Alow me, friends!" he pushes Gingers into the canal, a swift shove to the back **
Jur'zit: " Lets see if he can swim "
** Gingers gives a surprised yelp, and then splashes into the canal, instantly going under. **
Jur'zit: "..."

** Dervon looks impatient, almost child-like "Come on already! Boats dont blow themselves up you know! It takes someone to do it!" He bursts into laughter **

Dervon: (( Aaaa, hate to ask now, but how are we getting aboard? ))
Jur'zit: (( Making a human pyramid ))

Voice: *after Ros dives in* 'ere... ya 'ear somethin'?
Second voice: What? I didn' hear nuffin'?
Voice: I swear... like a splash or somethin'
** Rôs starts screaming for help **
Voice: Toldya!
Second voice: Where's it comin' from?
Rôs: "We need `elp `ere! `elp!"
Voice: What in the... who's there?
Second voice: Shut up ya idjit, it could be a trap!
Jur'zit: "I assure you, if it was a trap, it would be sprung by now gentlemen"
Rôs: "My ship be flounderin`, De Red Bol`s will pay well for ye aid!"
Voice: The who?
Jur'zit: " Shut up ! "
Second voice: Shut up!
Third voice: Oy! What's going on 'ere?
Voice: There's somebody out there that... Ow! Whadja do that for?

Narrator: ((*headdesk* Boats don't just stop. It's not like you can apply the brakes))
Jur'zit: (( you can row backwards to slow ))
Narrator: ((Not with a 100ft ship you can't))

Diggory: ((Quickly Ros, aggravate them to death with your incessant female nagging!))

Dervon: I move to secure the boat me and Diggs came from.
Narrator: ((Wooo, so someone actually remembered...))
Narrator: ((Too bad it's a bit too late for it...))

Narrator: Right. Anyway... Ros, you're up next. At the end of this round you'll finally get to the ship.
Dervon: (( SECURE THE BOAT!!! :D ))

Narrator: ((That's what a Hide check is for. Flattening yourself convincingly))

Diggory: ((werewolf with a shorthanded level 2 group, with no silver....))
Diggory: ((excuse me while I sh** myself))

Jur'zit: (( this is funny ))
Jur'zit: (( the tank is complaining about hitting the monster ))

Dervon: (( Uhm, didn't I have to do a Fort save against Lycanthropy? ))
Narrator: ((Hey, guess what, I roll that in secret. You find out in a few days))

** Dervon rolls his eyes "If you want to live" he yells, slowly and deliberately, as if he wants to get a point across "Jump ship. I hear swimming is good for 'ya!" **
Voice: W-what? But it's c-cold!
** Dervon yells back "So is my blade! Oh, and you would'nt happen to have a doctor or something abord, would' ya? My friends took the worst of it, and if they die I will personally hunt you down!" **
Voice: B-but you killed our doctor!
Dervon: (( I-R-O-N-Y ))

Gingers: Er... guys....
** Dervon glaces back at Gingers "What is it?" he rasps quickly **
Gingers: Er... matey... what would ya say if... I mean...
** Gingers points at the powder keg. The fuse is fizzing. **
Dervon: (( PAUSE. You. Have. Got. To. Be. kidding... ))
Diggory: (So.. in these last seconds before we all die, I can't help but realize how badly planned this little clusterf*** was. Regrets?)

** Dervon looks around like a mad-man surrounded by demons... He pauses... Takes a deep breath "Right." He jumps onto the boat and tries to hack off the fuse. **
Narrator: Did you say, jump?
Dervon: (( Dear Gods, words cannot describe how much I want to kill you right now... ))
Narrator: Reflex save.

Narrator: ((Gee, what's rule #2?))
Narrator: ((Never argue with the GM when he errs in your favor))
Narrator: ((But you're right, you're still bleeding out. Another stabilization check please))

Narrator: Dervon breaks open one of the crates... which contains about two dozen or so swords of all shapes and sizes.
Narrator: Each one forged of a silver alloy.
Jur'zit: (( ... ))
Diggory: :head desk:
Dervon: (( Dear Gods, I will hunt you down and kill you, I swear it... ))

Dervon: (( Seriosly, this is like Nightmare on Elms Street, we are all sleeping and the DM is that clawed guy... ))
Dervon: (( When you thought things could get no worse... ))

Narrator: ((And Dervon, it's not my fault you keep doing stupid things))
Dervon: (( I know, I know... It's just easier to blame the DM ))
Narrator: After being force-fed the potion Jur'zit sputters, coughs, and sighs softly... expelling a gout of flame that sets the sail above him on fire.

Simon: Burn burn burn them all
Simon: burn them all the way
Simon: set the hair and tails on fire
Simon: if they do not pay
Maxymiuk: What are you, after horses now?
Simon: sung to a fast bouncy tune
Simon: tieflings
Maxymiuk: tiefling horses
Simon: and dogs
Simon: and cats
Simon: and pseudodragons
Simon: for taunting people with food
** Dervon has no idea what Simon is singing about... **
Maxymiuk: Great
Maxymiuk: Someone gave him sugar again.
Simon: Just 4 burgers, 5 sausages
Simon: and a few mars bars
Simon: oh, did I mention a bottle of coke? 2 litre one
Maxymiuk: Can I just call you Bursar?
Simon: No, but The supreme overlord is aceptable
Dervon: I'll get the dried frog pills...
Maxymiuk: Double dose.
** Simon flies up to the rafters *

** Jack of Knives lays down the sword. "Oh, there ya are, lads an' lasses. How are ya feelin'? Anyone's arm turned green an' fell off?" **
** Rôs shakes her head "No` as o`ye`." **
** Dervon looks at his arm "Not yet, at least.." **
** Jack of Knives grins. "Glad to hear. Now then, make yerselves comfortable, an' tell Uncle Jack a story." **
Jur'zit: " I would like the three of us attacked by the werewolf to be chained up when the full moon is present at night "
Jack of Knives: ((Ok... that's a good story))

Cerrik Flogg: Yes, who is it? May I help you? Well? Spill it out already? I don't know you, and I'm busy as it is.
Jur'zit: " I am Jur'zit. I was wondering if you would like an increase in business "
Jur'zit: " Specifically in the evenings "
Cerrik Flogg: Will it involve missing teeth?
Jur'zit: " Teeth, a few broken bones, people who have taken a large beating "
Cerrik Flogg: Nothing out of the usual then.
Cerrik Flogg: Now who in the fifty three hells are you?
Jur'zit: " You know of Jack of Knives? "
Cerrik Flogg: I've treated his victims before.

Narrator: ((Madame Trayce does exist, and does run the best damned brothel in the city))
Jur'zit: (( Ill mention it to Ros later ))
Jur'zit: (( It's more her scene :P ))

Narrator: ((Given the prices in Osseron, if you went with copper you might as well run a Bingo night, instead of a gambling den.))

Diggory: "Are you sure there's nothing..." :peeks an eye to Dentrius: ".. food wise..?"
** Dentrius makes a very serious face. "Ya won' never catch me sayin' a word against my wife. She's a godsent of a woman, she is." **
Dentrius: Very... ah... traditional.
Diggory: :nods, not breaking his smile: "Yeah, I know...she's a kind ol' gal... but all the beets give me gas."

Diggory: "Afraid she'll be upset with you if we make her cook other food, or hire another cook?"
Dentrius: Upset is too small a word.
Dentrius: I tell ya, ya ain' seen wrath until ya saw 'er wieldin' a fryin' pan.
Diggory: "Don't worry though, she won't be wielding a frying pan at you. After all, you're not the one making her change the menu." :places a hand on Dentrius' shoulder, offering in mock sympathy: "You fought tooth and nail for her right to cook beets all day everyday. But the cruel new owners would not allow it. So you see. it's not your fault." :grins: "It's Jur'zit's."

Jur'zit: " So, tell me Diggory, what would you do? "
Jur'zit: " Skimp on the lookout? Bribe every guard? "
Diggory: :groans: "Burn down the city."
Diggory: "But that's me."

Jur'zit: " This used ot be the kind of thing I did for my job "
Diggory: "Yeah.. and how many troops did it cost you?"
Jur'zit: " Depends on the battle "
** Diggory sneers across the table. **
Jur'zit: " And your a strategist then? "
** Dervon rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his ale **
Jur'zit: " War always has casualties "
Diggory: "And your a profesional casino manager?"
Jur'zit: " I'm oviously better qualified to run it than you "
** Jur'zit tilts his head. **
Diggory: "Yeah.. I couldn't possibly get as many people killed here as you."

Narrator: ((Note: if you're going to cut Mellowleaf with harder drugs, there's all kinds of illegal things right there))
Narrator: ((For starters, you're using harder drugs))

Dervon: (( But if we dont tell 'em... How are the junkies gonna know? ))
Narrator: ((When they start turning up dead?))

Jur'zit: " My initial calculations come to about 600 gold pieces a week, after all costs and jack's cut. "
Jur'zit: " Bythe end of the winter, I estimate about 200 platinum a week for the group, after Jack's cut "
Diggory: :raises a brow: "And how could you possibly know how much you'll make in a week? You can tell the future?"
Jur'zit: "It's called math."

Jur'zit: " Anyone who tries to set up a money making scheme hopes to have it all figured out "
Diggory: "and most of the end up in the gutter."
Jur'zit: " None of my plans so far have. "
Diggory: "Tell that to your men."

Jur'zit: "Lets go buy you an outfit. What do you want to come as? "
Diggory: "Emperor."
Jur'zit: " Ok, I'll decide "

Jur'zit: " please stay in the background on this "
** Diggory fidgets and scratches at the unfamiliar clothing, rather unmannerly. **
Jur'zit: " This will be fairly delicate "
Diggory: "Right.. delicate.." :as he adjusts his crotch:
Diggory: "What exactly are you planning to say? Hello, we're from the new gambling den in town, would you like a bribe?"

Jur'zit: " Wel, first off all, congratulations on your promotion Captain. "
Jur'zit: " From what I can tell, you have all the attributes neccacary to be a fine Captain "
Victor Brannen: And that aborted attempt at flattery is enough to tell me that although you may dress as a noble and, I'll admit, even look like a noble, you're in fact simply someone with money for expensive clothes.

Victor Brannen: Ah *clasps his hands in front of him* of course. Why should this be any different from the last two dozen or so... petitioners. "Donate" some of your earnings, you say. To, carry out your "refurbishing" in "peace" as you put it. You are, of course, laying your hopes upon both the general corruption so prevalent in our dear, unappreciated, underpaid City Watch and, perhaps to a greater extent, upon the fact that my family - gods strike down each and every one of them - is universally known to worship the gold piece. *smiles sweetly* Would that be correct?

** Jur'zit smacks Diggory " Hows this for authority " **
Narrator: ((Actually, using the word "smack" still lacks authority))

Narrator: The crowd of onlookers, seeing that the free show is over, shift somewhat. Someone, somewhere, suggest calling the watch. Another yells for Jur'zit to belt him another one. A third advises throwing him into the canal. He isn't clear on which "him" he's referring to.

Narrator: Even taking the alleyways, Jur'zit is followed by small kids who want to know if he's kidnapping Diggory to be his wife, like in that one story, you know which...

Maxymiuk: Ok, the usual business first. Questions, comments, quandaries, queries.
Jur'zit: What is Glob?
Jur'zit: :-)
Maxymiuk: Stuff you find up your nose.
Dj Gilcrease: I found an ant up my nose once..

Narrator: Dervon finds himself downstairs, by his own admision sorely in need of a drink. And there, on the table, still stands the bottle of wine. Already open. With all tankards filled by Ros, but forgotten in everyone's haste to see to Diggory.
** Dervon shrugs and goes to drink his tankard **
** Dervon downs the whole thing in one go **
Narrator: It takes a moment for Dervon's taste buds to relate what they've felt to the brain. But when they do, they drive the point with the strength of a hammer.
Narrator: It's piss.

** Diggory offers a slight bow, as he approaches, "Good day, sir. I come on some private business." :he is surprisingly civil: **
** Cerrik Flogg gives a weary sigh. "Take off your pants and sit over there. I'll go get the oinment." **
Diggory: :raises brow, weirded out: "Are you coming onto me?"
** Cerrik Flogg blinks. "What?" **
Diggory: :shakes head: "Uh.. never mind. It's nothing like that. I'm actually seeking employment."

In the fight with the werewolf referenced above, three of the members of the gang got bitten. This is the first Full Moon since, so they've asked their boss to lock them in a cellar, chained to the walls.
** Diggory gives a slight chortle as the locks sound. Trapped awaiting a monster to awaken among them, it just seems right. And so he sings an odd haunting song, about travels of the underworld. **
Diggory: Perform Skill Check: [1d20+0] => [6,0] = (6)
** Dervon tries to shift into a more comfortable position and fails missarably **
Diggory: :and it's made all the worse by his cracking voice:
** Dervon starts to tap his finger on the wall, and tries to ignore the tune he hears through the wall **
Diggory: :sings strangely: *My Father is eating my intestines now.. my Mother is cooking my spleen.. my baby brother sleeps in my chest, a warm comfy bed for he....*

** Diggory calls out, "Jack! I'd like to get out NOW!" **
Jack of Knives: Sorry boy-o! You gotta stay there till mornin'!
Diggory: "WHAT!? You can't leave me down with one of them gone furball?"
Jack of Knives: Better that 'avin' 'im break down the door jes' as I come down!

Narrator: The big, black, snarling, enraged, red-eyed beast formerly known as Jur'zit seems to be having little luck with doing anything other than giving itself a bad case of whiplash.
Narrator: Still, the chains aren't too happy about the abuse they're forced to endure.
** Dervon seems to pause for a second "At least the chains seem to be holding up" he shouts back, somewhat more relaxed, but still stressed **
Narrator: ((The wall on the other hand...))
Narrator: ((mwahaha))

Dervon: (( Good moment to make escape artist check? ))
Narrator: ((This counts as masterwork manacles, actually. Break DC ooh-lalah. Also keep mind, for every break attempt you'll make, I'll make one for the werewolf))
Narrator: ((Think you can ride the probability train?))

** Werewolf starts up again **
** Werewolf starts salavating as he looks at Dervon. **
Narrator: ((*backhands Simon* If you're going to simulate an NPC, at least have the grace to spell things right))

** Dervon sits down at his usual seat and takes the drink out. He inspects the contents, then unscrews the top of the bottle. He takes a sniff of the contents. **
Narrator: Dervon's nose catches fire.
Narrator: Well, not really.
Narrator: But it sure feels like it to him.

Narrator: After downing the drink, Dervon sits quietly for a moment.
Narrator: Then his eyes cross, and his mouth twists in unspeakable agony.
Narrator: Rising so suddenly he knocks over the bench, he tears off towards the door, wailing like a banshee in heat.
Narrator: He disappears into the night, his cries still audible over the wind for quite a long time.

Narrator: When last we left off the group, Dervon was in the middle of planning a seemingly crazy scheme of... no, wait, never mind. When last we saw him, he was moving off at great speed after - despite being given fair warning - he decided to try Dentrius's patented "Wake the Dead" concoction.
Narrator: It took only a few hours for the effect to wear off, but in the meantime Dervon raced the length and breadth of the District, bowled over a Watch patrol, leaped the width of the Long Canal, broke down several doors, and caused plenty of generalized chaos and mayhem before, whether by chance or design, crashing into the Mutt's outhouse, greatly upsetting its current occupant.

Narrator: The door opens and a man steps out. He is rather old, with wispy gray hair, a pockmarked face, and a crazy look in his eyes. He is wearing what appears to be a dirty smock, though what religion it belongs to, you wouldn't be able to tell. He points a finger at Ros and speaks.
The Preacher: May your liver rot and ooze out of your anus, along with the rest of your putrid entrails, and may you fall over into the puddle of that excrement and die, spawn of the Abyss!
The Preacher: *takes a breath* Why have you come here?
Diggory: :glances to Dervon, as Ros is cursed: "Is that like Hello here?

Telonius
2007-07-30, 12:35 PM
Phido: Shifter Rogue/Wizard (me).
Adragil: Evil druid that has left the party. Phido stole several scrolls before he did so (Matt1 - now playing the party cleric).
Thump: Warforged Barbarian (Matt2).

In the middle of battle, Thump has been felled by a mighty blow. The party cleric is busy elsewhere, leaving Phido to save Thump.

Me: "Thump, no!" (Phido rifles around in his pack for one of the stolen scrolls). "Ah, this will save you!" (casts Last Breath).
DM: (look of shock) Well ... okay. You cast it.
DM: (rolls) You see Thump's body change form. He comes back as a Dwarf.
Matt2 & Me: (WHAT?!)
DM: Matt, remember when you asked me about the older version?
Matt1: (Oh no...)
DM: It's essentially a "Reincarnation" spell. Thump comes back as a Dwarf.
Matt2: (Revives, and looks at his now-dwarven body) Who.. wha?! What happened to me? Who did this?!
Me: Ahhh ... ahhh ..... Adragil! (Bluff check: 25+)
Matt1: (Hey!)
Matt2: (Hey, uh, so he's back as a dwarf, right?)
DM: Yeah.
Matt2: (Uh... well, he was a warforged before).
DM: Yeah, and?
Matt2: (Well, warforged don't wear clothes).
All: (groan)
DM: Okay. He comes back wearing purple pants. The gods are merciful.

Fuum Bango
2007-07-30, 12:47 PM
On the gravestone of a Half-Orc Barbarian.

"We hardly knew ye.
And ye hardly knew anything."

LordMalrog
2007-07-30, 01:12 PM
ALRIGHT this is in one of the wod campaigns i DM so stick with me.

You enter an old cathedral, several men in priest garbs sit at alters, while one, his priest cloak drenched in blood, gives a fire and brimstone service. Sam, the party mage waves his hand and begins to speak.
"Hi, i'm interested in joining the Jewish faith."