Ionizer
2008-10-30, 04:00 PM
This topic is a place to vent all your Role-Playing experiences. Be they awesome, sucky, or just memorable, this is the place to post them. Ill start.
In a long-running 3.5 DnD campaign, my swashbuckler/rogue had recently been killed (The DM had accepted more characters into the party than he could handle, so in a subplot, half the party was turned into vampires and went on their merry way, but not before slaughtering half of the "Good Party" first). Anyway, my new character was an Elven Ranger (Archery style). This was about level 11 at the time. In an extremely low-magic campaign (as in, the only magic weapons in the "Good Party" are the Death-Touched Dwarf's Large Greatsword Ancestral Weapon [he was raised into death-less-ness after the "Evil Party" killed him, he was also able to retrain his character to take advantage of the gi-normous sword he'd been given in the afterlife by his father] and a half dozen +1 Longswords with minor abilities [extra 1 damage vs spellcasters, half-flaming, which is an extra 1 fire damage per swing and other useless abilities like that] that were held by the Paladin DMPC's Bard Cohort [who was half-controlled by the DM's long-distance girlfriend, meaning the bard would charge into melee wielding one of the pigstickers, never use skills, never play music and never use any spells besides Cure Light Wounds and Detect Magic] in an extra-dimensional scabbard that she hoarded like Gollum hoarded his Precious). Also, the DM didn't scale back encounters based on the "Low-Magic" basis (partly because we had mister uber-Dwarf, a Half-Giant Psychic Warrior/Barbarian who Expanded and Raged every encounter, the DMPC Paladin who was prophecized to save the world from Tiamat because Tiamat had killed all the other gods except Bahamut, Miss Bard, and a cleric of Bahamut [actually a coincidence that he picked Bahamut because he didn't know all the other gods were dead yet] who was rapidly approaching Cleric-zilla status). Anyway, 1d8+3 damage doesn't cut through the DR of CR11 monsters (the DM was especially fond of Skeletal dragons, which was even worse) even if you are shooting 4 or 5 times a round.
Anyway (again), we eventually found out that Tiamat killed all the gods and that we needed to go meet with Bahamut to continue the quest. We eventually found him on a big mountain, after we received the Plot Exposition and were sent to kill Tiamat (or seal her away, or whatever) Bahamut gave us each one wish. Uber-Dwarf wished to be with his ancestors (and was replaced with a super Psion who I suspect preyed on our DM's flimsy understanding of the Psionics system), the Half-giant wished for some kinda better armor or something, the Cleric, Paladin and Bard gave up their wishes, saying that just being in the presence of The Platinum Dragon was reward enough. My wish was, and I quote, "I don't want to know about any of this! I don't want to know the gods are dead! I don't want to have to save the world! I just want to go into the woods and eat Berries!" So Bahamut waved his hand (paw? claw?) and erased my memory and teleported me into the wilderness to live my simple life eating berries. For the rest of the campaign, whenever the DM threw something even the least bit challenging at us, everyone would shout "This is too hard! I just want to go and eat berries!"
(BTW, my next character was an Elven Wizard 8/ Fighter 2/ Arcane Archer 1 who was pretty much forced into slave labor because I made the mistake of taking the Craft Magic Weapons and Armor and Craft Wonderous Item feats in a campaign that had NO magic treasure besides Scrolls and Potions. The party was on a boat crossing the ocean and I was always below decks crafting. I got back at them a little because I mentioned that I got seasick very easily. Whenever they got their newly crafted items, they were sticky and smelly. :smallwink:)
In a long-running 3.5 DnD campaign, my swashbuckler/rogue had recently been killed (The DM had accepted more characters into the party than he could handle, so in a subplot, half the party was turned into vampires and went on their merry way, but not before slaughtering half of the "Good Party" first). Anyway, my new character was an Elven Ranger (Archery style). This was about level 11 at the time. In an extremely low-magic campaign (as in, the only magic weapons in the "Good Party" are the Death-Touched Dwarf's Large Greatsword Ancestral Weapon [he was raised into death-less-ness after the "Evil Party" killed him, he was also able to retrain his character to take advantage of the gi-normous sword he'd been given in the afterlife by his father] and a half dozen +1 Longswords with minor abilities [extra 1 damage vs spellcasters, half-flaming, which is an extra 1 fire damage per swing and other useless abilities like that] that were held by the Paladin DMPC's Bard Cohort [who was half-controlled by the DM's long-distance girlfriend, meaning the bard would charge into melee wielding one of the pigstickers, never use skills, never play music and never use any spells besides Cure Light Wounds and Detect Magic] in an extra-dimensional scabbard that she hoarded like Gollum hoarded his Precious). Also, the DM didn't scale back encounters based on the "Low-Magic" basis (partly because we had mister uber-Dwarf, a Half-Giant Psychic Warrior/Barbarian who Expanded and Raged every encounter, the DMPC Paladin who was prophecized to save the world from Tiamat because Tiamat had killed all the other gods except Bahamut, Miss Bard, and a cleric of Bahamut [actually a coincidence that he picked Bahamut because he didn't know all the other gods were dead yet] who was rapidly approaching Cleric-zilla status). Anyway, 1d8+3 damage doesn't cut through the DR of CR11 monsters (the DM was especially fond of Skeletal dragons, which was even worse) even if you are shooting 4 or 5 times a round.
Anyway (again), we eventually found out that Tiamat killed all the gods and that we needed to go meet with Bahamut to continue the quest. We eventually found him on a big mountain, after we received the Plot Exposition and were sent to kill Tiamat (or seal her away, or whatever) Bahamut gave us each one wish. Uber-Dwarf wished to be with his ancestors (and was replaced with a super Psion who I suspect preyed on our DM's flimsy understanding of the Psionics system), the Half-giant wished for some kinda better armor or something, the Cleric, Paladin and Bard gave up their wishes, saying that just being in the presence of The Platinum Dragon was reward enough. My wish was, and I quote, "I don't want to know about any of this! I don't want to know the gods are dead! I don't want to have to save the world! I just want to go into the woods and eat Berries!" So Bahamut waved his hand (paw? claw?) and erased my memory and teleported me into the wilderness to live my simple life eating berries. For the rest of the campaign, whenever the DM threw something even the least bit challenging at us, everyone would shout "This is too hard! I just want to go and eat berries!"
(BTW, my next character was an Elven Wizard 8/ Fighter 2/ Arcane Archer 1 who was pretty much forced into slave labor because I made the mistake of taking the Craft Magic Weapons and Armor and Craft Wonderous Item feats in a campaign that had NO magic treasure besides Scrolls and Potions. The party was on a boat crossing the ocean and I was always below decks crafting. I got back at them a little because I mentioned that I got seasick very easily. Whenever they got their newly crafted items, they were sticky and smelly. :smallwink:)