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I've been into roleplaying for about ten years now, with a few different groups, and had my share of good and bad experiences, enough to fill a few posts. In my first group, back when I was 15 or so, we started out playing Paranoia and Warhammer 40k. And in this group was this guy, let's call him Jay. Now, Jay was your stereotypical, raging powergamer. Whatever the game, he only cared about winning, usually at the cost of the enjoyment of others. Also, he was 2 years older than the rest of us, and tended to get violent from the slightest provocation. Playing WH40k with him was -unsurprisingly- pure pain. He would resort to rule-lawyering and micromanaging, even cheat to ensure his victory. But on the rare case when he lost, well, that's when things got from bad to worse. He would throw his miniatures at walls, scream and rage, and sometimes even break his opponent's troops as well. Sometimes he didn't even need to lose. This one time, I was playing against him, he was playing Blood angels, I had Ultramarines. And he had this brand new tank, Baal Predator I think. Now, he was really meticulous about his miniatures, he would spend weeks painting a single character, and I have to admit, they often looked pretty amazing. This tank was no exception. He was so drat proud of it, and giddy with the anticipation of crushing me with it. Now, the game begins, and immediately I drop a squad of terminators behind it. I destroy the tank with a punch from a single powerfist. The room falls in silence. He just stares at the tank. Then he clenches his fists, and starts shaking. Then, without a word, he grabs his tank, and smashes it on the concrete floor. Like, literally smashes it into tiny pieces. We ended the game there. He later accused me of breaking his tank  He was also in our roleplaying group. He wasn't that bad... until we let him try his hand at GM:ing. At first we were only playing Paranoia, which I GM:d. I then went to make some conversions of the Paranoia rules system, one of which was a modernday crime game called "Urban Gangsta" (Yeah, yeah, 15 years old, remember). I wanted to play it myself as well, so we took turns GM:ing. Then came Jay's turn. In this case, we (Me and a second player, John) were picking up a drug baron from the airport, so we could take him to a meeting with our bosses. Now, as a sidenote, I tended to handle this game as a sandbox, so even though there was a plot to every mission, there was very little railroading on my sessions. So, we're heading out of the airport in a van of our own, with John driving. I'm sitting in the back, in case someone decides to come at us. And soon enough... Jay: As you're leaving the airport, you notice that two black Vans begin following you. Me: Okay, John, slow down so I can get an aim on them. How far away are they? Jay: About 30 meters. Me: I open up the back doors, and pull out my rocket launcher (yes, I had a loving bazooka with me) John: I slow down a little. Jay: Okay. They keep their distance. Me: I aim at the the one closer to us and fire. (Roll dice, a perfect hit) Jay looks at the dice for a moment. Jay: You didn't hit them. Me: What? Jay: You're too far away. Me: I'm pretty sure a rocket launcher can shoot 30 meters. Jay: No it can't. The rocket falls on the asphalt behind you and explodes to no effect. John: That thing shoots at least like 250 meters. Me: Yeah, what the gently caress? That's ridiculous. At this point Jay throws his stuff on the ground and begins screaming. Jay: Well you know what, yeah, it hits the Van! Then you get hit by lighting, and an airplane falls on your car! You're both loving dead, how's that? Gimme your character sheets! Me, John:  Turns out his masterplan involved us being followed to our destination, and us shooting at the followers broke his delicate railroading. He didn't GM much after that. I've got more stories from our later/current group, inclucing the birth of my username, tales of shitfetish GM's and other assorted madness.
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Feb 15, 2012 16:19
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How I got my username, AKA The indomitable Count Fitzgarraldo This one's from my current gaming group, and it's how I ended up being called a smug sociopath. It's an odd mix of awesome and atrocious roleplaying. The tale of Count Fitzgarraldo comes from my first experience with Vampire: Dark Ages. I was actually quite thrilled about getting to do some more serious RP'ing after mostly playing large amounts of Paranoia, and a campaign of Praedor (which ended up with my character being a pirate wrestler called Ratface who wore the skulls of his defeated enemies as decoration, but that's a whole other story of awfulness). At this point the little I knew about Vampire was what I had read on reviews of Vampire: Bloodlines, so I mostly expected a lot of backstabbing and lurking in the shadows. So, I made myself an obfuscation/awareness-maxed Nosferatu called Count Fitzgarraldo. I had just discovered Kinski/Herzog-movies, so he was a mixup of several Kinski characters. His name, from Fitzgarraldo, his general look and lifestyle from Nosferatu, and his personality... from motherfucking Aguirre  Now, Fitzgarraldo had a whole bunch of personality flaws, including territorial, vengeful and a few more. Essentially, I played him as the most sadistic, conniving and vindictive motherfucker you could ever imagine. At first I made his moves very meticulously. While other players were duking it out on the town square and impaling each other on crosses stolen from the town church, I made preparations to enter the city unnoticed (in a coffin) and turning the town cemetery into my territory. Then, two things happened. First, the GM introduced an NPC that decided to proclaim himself the town prince, and enforce strict laws upon the PC's. We obviously didn't take it well. Second, one of the players, Abe, rolled a new character, called Bellatrix. Yes, Bellatrix. As in, belladonna+dominatrix. A female character with maxed out appearance and a bunch of skills like Majesty and Summon. Essentially he wanted to play seductress. We all knew it would be awful. Now, a little about Abe. He took this RP'ing very seriously. Seriously, as in, he always had to win, and usually make other players suffer in the process. His characters often were annoying gimmicks meant to piss off or gently caress over other players. He has overall killed a few campaigns by starting a spiral of backstabbing by trying to gently caress over everyone else, even in co-operation-oriented games. And this was Vampire, so we knew it would be bad. The GM tried to subtly warn him. Subtly warn, as in making an NPC exactly like Bellatrix and having the NPC try to seduce Fitzgarraldo. This led to Fitzgarraldo decapitating her and putting the severed head on display in the trophy room of his castle. Too bad Abe wasn't all that great on reading "subtle". So, as the only PC, he sided with the prince, and allied against the rest of the party. So, we met him at an elysium with another player, Mark, to try to convince him to ally with the PC's. Not one to listen to reason, Abe instead decided to start throwing around his powers at the elysium, which led to Mark torching his PC's face off. The prince's men arrive, and me and Mark end up on the run at the countryside. They give chase, and Bellatrix accompanies them. And summons us. I have enough willpower to resist it, but Mark doesn't and he gets captured. Out of loyalty for the rest of the group (altogether, 5 of us), he chews his tongue off when prince attempts to question him about other conspirators. I manage to escape and go into hiding. GM: So, Abe, what do you do now? Abe: I'm going to keep summoning him every day.  *A moment of silence* Me: You know I'm going to loving kill you now. With her face burned off, Bellatrix needed some time to heal. Luckily for me, Abe was being vain as gently caress with is character, and decided that getting her good looks back was more important than dealing with the vengeful nutbag Nosferatu out for her blood. This gave me about a a week in game time to get my poo poo together. Mark, whom they had captured, was to be executed in ten days. That's when I would strike. But I couldn't do it alone, so I proceeded to build myself a team of assassins. I hired ten mercenaries, and proceeded to turn them into into vampires. I spent the ten days training the gently caress out of them and covertly buying supplies, such as crossbows, a ballista, and a bunch of tremere-made vampire killer arrows. All the time I'm doing this, Abe's throwing notes at the GM as well. To ensure his safety, I'm sure. I'm positive there will be a counterattack, and he's scheming to assasinate me. I tell the GM my plan. Me: So, the prince's castle is pretty heavily guarded, right? GM: Yeah, guards on the walls, and the gates are impenetrable. Me: What about the poo poo chute? GM: The what? Me: Old castles had poo poo chutes on the outer walls, you know, for the crap to drop into the trench. GM: (Barely holding his laughter) Well now that you said it, yeah, you can climb through there! So, my plan is to sneak in through the poo poo chute with my band of merry Nosferatus, get through the castle and sneak on the roofboards of the crown room, where Mark's trial is being held, then murder the gently caress out of Bellatrix. I had a deal with the GM, that they would fire once I snapped my fingers. All this time, Abe's passing notes to the GM, and being smug as hell. The ceremony/trial begins. Mark's there, chained, and Bellatrix is standing next to the king, proud as gently caress. Rest of the party, not uncovered as conspirators, are in the crowd, watching. The prince begins his speech, talking about the horrible crimes Mark has committed against his empire. Abe is gloating. And I snap my my fingers. GM stops talking, stares at me. The whole party is now wondering what's going on. GM starts to laugh, then begins rolling dice. GM: Abe, you're hit with a ballista bolt. Abe: What the gently caress!? GM: Then an arrow... and another... and another. Altogether you're hit by 6 bolts. The ballista bolt impales you into the wall. You go into torpor. Abe: What? What the gently caress is this? GM: (To the rest of the party) You turn to look up, and you see 10 nosferatus in black cloaks disappear into the attic. The whole party:  GM: Also, a strange odor of poop floats around the room. Me: I told you I'd loving kill you, Abe. Now the rest of the party is laughing, as I start to tell them how my plan had worked. The GM's laughing his rear end off, and telling me he allowed this because the poo poo chute idea was so awesome. Abe's silent, and his lip's quivering. Then he lets it out. Abe: You're... You're a smug sociopath! And I pity you!  And those notes he sent to the GM? They were all detailed descriptions about how he wanted Mark to be tortured and executed Fitzgarraldo went to live through the whole campaign, killing several of Abe's following insufferable characters, and being a source of a whole lot of other fondly remembered stories. A smug sociopath fucked around with this message at 20:01 on Feb 27, 2012 |
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Feb 27, 2012 09:36
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Kosmonaut posted:
Sure, actually there are multiple just from Fitzgarraldo. I'll post more when I have time to write them up.
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Feb 27, 2012 10:00
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Time for another one with Fitzgarraldo and Abe. This actually takes place before my last story, on the fourth or fifth session of our Vampire campaign. It also explains somewhat why he had such an intense dislike towards me and Mark. Now, this was before our GM had introduced the NPC prince, and the small highland town was pretty much a sandbox for us to wreak havoc and gently caress around in. I had managed to secure the town church for myself along with the cemetary, and made some pretty sweet contacts with the religious leaders, while we were all together pulling one rope to make the town a nice place for us vampires, setting up an elysium and such. Well, except for Abe, of course. His first character was a psycho Gangrel we all feared like crazy, for the simple reason that he loved to eat other PC's, and he was strong as all gently caress, with aggro claws, and two ghoul bears as retainers. So, we all breathed a sigh of relief when one of the other PC's impaled the dreaded Gangrel with a huge wooden cross stolen from the town church. As his lifeless corpse fell into the river, and the bears were left in the woods near the city, we were reminded by our GM that they would one day return in search of vampire blood. Enter the next session, and Abe has a new character. Now, we didn't know much about this one, except for two things; 1: The GM and Abe were giddy as hell about the character. That was a bad sign. 2: The GM had given him an indeterminate amount of extra points for taking some big flaws, so it seemed like his character would be even more powerful than the gangrel. Suffice to say, we were anxious. So, me and Mark are chilling at the Elysium we had set up in the city. There's a knock on the door. My character, Fitzgarraldo, being paranoid as hell, obfuscates instantly and disappears into the shadows. Mark opens the door, and behind it, finds a 12-year old boy. Yes, he decided to play a kid. Named Count Dacula. Motherfucker. And not just any kid, but a very smug, overconfident one, with possibly enough power to wipe us all out. So, Mark remains courteous. Abe plays his Count Dacula like a snotty little brat, instantly insulting Mark with some snappy remarks and generally being arrogant as hell. But he doesn't see me. That's a good sign, he has no Auspex. I instantly start to work on a plan. Mark offers Abe a goblet of blood. Which Abe proceeds to pour on the elysium floor. Then he cuts his own hand, fills the goblet with his own blood and begins drinking it. That was my que. I slid next to him, still obfuscated, cut my hand and let a few drops of my own blood fall into the goblet, as Dacula was merrily drinking it. Strike one. Two more, and I he would be bound to me by blood. I leave the room, come out of obfuscation, and re-enter, to make my acquintance with the newcomer. GM: Abe, you feel fond of Count Fitzgarraldo, almost as if he had a certain fatherly figure. Abe: Yeah, whatever. Remarks of his fondness towards Count Fitzgarraldo rouse no suspicion in Abe, because, well, he's Abe. We make him an offer that he could stay at the elysium until we can properly discuss about territory with him. He gleefully takes upon the offer. When we leave, I tell Mark my plan. We are to blood bond him to me. Only that way could we be sure that he would cause us no complications. Now, some of the merits I had bought for Fitzgarraldo were Celestial attunement and Light sleeper. So, it was easy for me to sneak up on Dacula during daytime. We had a hidden escape tunnel at the elysium, which lead to a nearby river. I waited at the bottom of the river for the sunrise, then emerged in the Elysium. With Dacula fast asleep, It was easy to sneak up to him and drop a little blood in his mouth. He didn't even wake up, and I disappeared back into the hidden tunnel. By the time I was able to give the last drops of blood, Abe was starting to get suspicious that something was up. I had disappeared from his sight to avoid any more GM remarks of the brewing blood bond, and there were still no discussions about giving him his own territory. So he starts causing trouble at the Elysium. Mark tries to calm him down, then makes the mistake of offering him a Goblet of blood. This prompts Abe to attack Mark's character, by casting Dementation on him. Obfuscated in the next room, I witness as Mark's char becomes a quivering mess and hunches down into the corner of the room. Abe laughs. I begin to fill a goblet with my own blood. Me: So, do you laugh with your mouth open? Abe: What? Me: Like, are you quietly giggling or laughing your rear end off? GM: How hard are you laughing at Mark? Abe: I point my finger at him and laugh as loud as I can!  Me: Okay, I step in front of him and throw the goblet of blood at his face. Abe: What? Me: Then I deobfuscate myself. GM: Alright. Abe, you feel a splash of blood on your face and mouth. As you swallow the blood, you see Fitzgarraldo appear in front of you. Abe: What's going on? GM: You feel that he is your eternal leader, and you should obey his every order. Me: From now on, you will call me Master. When it dawned to him what had happened, he looked like he was about to cry. Literally, like a child about to burst into tears. Me and Mark laughing our asses off certainly didn't help. This time he didn't call me a sociopath, just an rear end in a top hat. Anyway, it wasn't over. After he realized he couldn't use his character to backstab me, he decided to go full retard. Full retard in this case meaning killing people in the town square and feeding on them in front of multiple witnesses. Count Dacula had just gone from a liability to a liability and a huge nuisance. We had to get rid of him. So, I sent Abe to clean up his previous mess. That is, the ghoul bears. They of course ripped Count Dacula to shreds. A fitting end, I might say.
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Mar 4, 2012 16:26
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Time for another one with Abe! This one wasn't from the Vampire campaign, but something older, and much closer to being one of the worst RP'ing experiences I've had. At least it's some of the worst GM'ing I've encountered. See, after our first Campaign of Praedor (In which my character "Ratface" committed a genocide on a viking tribe while wearing glowing human skulls on his helmet, and horse skulls as shoulder pads), we had another stab at Praedor. With Abe as the GM. He wasn't very good. Consistent with his usual style, prior to the first (and only) session Abe was smug as all hell. He wanted us to suffer. He even went as far as to tell us that the game would start with us being crucified. "gently caress that noise" we thought. It was on, we were going to break his game. The GM for our prior Praedor game, Eric, knew the rules like the palms of his hands. So, with a combination of minmaxing and certain perks, he went on to create the most game-breaking character I've ever witnessed. Abe, not having even read the rulebook, failed to catch the ridiculousness of Eric's character, thus approving it for the game. So the game begins, with us as slaves, working on the fields of a rich duke. Abe's giddy, foreboding our incoming crucifixion with hints of displeasure on our work. It was time to fight back. Come evening, we snuck out of our barracks, and hid into the ditches. We were going to sack the manor. Slowly our party swam down the stream and to the backyard of the manor. This is when Abe was faced with the absolute game-breaking insanity of Eric's character. Abe: There's a guard on the back yard, facing the other way. Eric: How far away is he? Abe: About 15 meters. Eric: I jump out of the lake, run up to him and punch him. Abe: Okay, you run halfway up the yard, and the guard... Eric: Stop. See my character sheet here. With my speed rating, I can run 40 meters per turn. Abe: W-what? Eric rolls his punch as Abe regains his composure. Abe: He has a helmet, you can't hurt him. Eric rolls the kind of damage equivalent to being hacked with a poleaxe. He had maxed out his speed and strength, while taking perks that essentially made his fists stone. The guard has his head instantly caved in. Eric: I still have movement left on my turn, so I run back into the ditch. Abe:  So onward we went, robbing the manor, killing everyone inside and setting it on fire. Then the lynch mod approached, led by the head of the manor, clad in shining armor. Luckily, we had the perfect plan. Me and Mark took up shields in both hands, covering for Eric, as he jumped back and forth between the shields, punching our enemies to death and retreating back into cover every turn. The duke was dispatched in this very same manner, mid-speech. Duke: You filthy scum! You will never get away... And Eric runs at him, punches his chest in, then jumps back behind the shields. After enough casualties, the crowd dispersed, and we went our merry way. We had ruined Abe's plans for the campaign beginning; he told us he wanted us to be crucified, then forced on a suicide mission by a mysterious buyer. Instead, we were rich, free, and heading to the capital. I'll write more soon, as that was only the beginning of the madness that would entail. See, as the game continued, Abe began to fight back...
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Mar 20, 2012 10:14
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Liesmith posted:yo maybe this was fun for you and that's cool but this is basically awful, you don't get to complain about how bad the DM is if you start the game out doing poo poo like this You must have missed the part where he blatantly expressed to us that he was going to start the campaign by loving crucifying us. I mean, he was smug as hell about it, and made no attempts to hide the fact that it would be a GM vs Players affair. I think his reasoning for the crucifixion was to have us in a position where we would be absolutely defenseless (and have some sadistic fun on the side) so that we could easily be railroaded by a mighty GMPC to a suicide mission to some magic ruins. Actually, he did succeed on the defenseless and railroaded part later on, with a whole "magic bracelets that explode if you disobey" shebang. Edit: quote:I don't think smug sociopath is Abe wasn't that the name of the player that gave him his user name? That's right. A smug sociopath fucked around with this message at 20:45 on Mar 20, 2012 |
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Mar 20, 2012 20:36
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Might as well write up the rest of the session right away. It gets really weird. After leaving the manor, our merry band of now-free slaves came to a small rural town. With no pursuers, we decided we'd stop there and stock up on some essential supplies. Of course it couldn't be that easy. While the rest of the party was buing some food from the town merchant, Eric headed off to the tavern. By now it was a tradition in Praedor that our party would be carrying around several barrels of alcohol. Eric enters the Tavern, and the following discussion ensues: Eric: Good day! How much for a bottle of wine? Bartender/Abe: 2 pieces of bronze. Eric: Very well! I'll take twenty! Abe: That will cost you 200 pieces of bronze. Eric: Wait, what? You just said it's 2 bronze a piece. Abe: Supply and demand. Eric: You have to be kidding me. I'll take just one bottle then. Abe: It's now 10 pieces of bronze. Eric: What the gently caress? Eric spends a while, first trying to reason with the bartender, then haggling with him, unsuccesfully. At this point we begin to wonder what's taking him so long, and enter the tavern. Eric: I'll give you 5 copper a piece. Abe: No, ten. Eric: That's it, I'm going to pimp-slap him. So, Eric slaps the bartender, causing some nosebleed. Then he gives the bartender a bunch of copper (more than 40, but a lot less than 200) and picks up those twenty bottles of wine. We walk out of the tavern and... We're suddenly surrounded by the whole village, with pitchforks in their hands, about to lynch us. Me: Why are we surrounded by armed peasants? Abe: Because Eric slapped the bartender. Mark: Well, that was loving fast of them. Me: How do they even know Eric slapped the bartender? There was nobody in the tavern. Eric: Could we kill them all? Abe: One of them yells "Hang them!". Me: Okay, run! And that we did, Eric the fastest, with his 40-meters-per-turn speed. After our courageous retreat, we venture to the capital of the land, wherein... I don't really know. I think Abe told us that something was calling our characters there. So, this mysterious calling leads us into a shop of alchemic potions, wherein an alchemist tells us that he wants us to go to the old ruins to find some artifacts. Now, two things; In the setting, Wizards are more like gods, rare as all drat hell and powerful. Mythical creatures almost. This will become relevant soon. Second, going to the old ruins is pure suicide, as they're filled with all kinds of magical monsters more than capable of wiping the entire party out. And that's where he wants us to head to. We of course laugh at his face, because the prospect of getting eaten by a Kraken feels far less desirable than roaming the countryside and robbing poo poo. So, in effort to counter this, when we turn our backs to leave, he quickly slaps a collar on Mark, telling us it's a magical collar that will explode unless we enter the ruins within 48 hours. Mark: I guess we've got no choice now. Me: Onward to a suicide mission then? Mark: Yeah, just one thing, first. And Mark chops the alchemist's head off with his sword. Reasoning behind this being that since we're going to die anyway, we might as well kill the chump who doomed us as well. Unfortunately for us, the psychic guards from Oblivion were apparently patrolling in this city, and the whole alchemy shop is instantly filled with guards in full plate armor. We retreat into the back room of the shop, trying to hold the onslaught of guards off at the doorway, while Mark begins making an escape route for us. Making? Yes - he picked up a bunch of acid bottles off the alchemy shelves and tried to melt us a hole in the wall, while the rest of us were throwing random potion bottles at the incoming guards. Then, a wizard appears out of nowhere (well, okay, not out of nowhere, apparently he was chilling upstairs and we bothered him) and zaps all the city guards to death, while paralysing us for long enough to put the same collar Mark had, on all of us. Remember what I said about wizards being extremely rare and mythical? Yeah, I guess not. The old ruins turned out to be not all that murderous, just dull and absurd. Two things happened there; We came to a spot where there was a 3-meter wide chasm. We couldn't jump over it, or climb, or anything else. Eric: I can run 40 meters in 5 seconds, but I can't jump over a 3 meter wide hole? Abe: That's right. It's too wide. Eric: Do you even know how much three meters is? Then we were attacked, by something that wasn't invisible, but we couldn't see it. No, really. Abe: Eric, you're attacked from behind. (rolls damage) Eric: What's attacking me? Abe: It's behind you, you can't see it. Me: I'm behind Eric, what's attacking him? Abe: You can't see it. Me: You mean it's invisible? Abe: No. Me: Then why can't I see it? Mark: I'm behind Smug Sociopath, can I see it? Abe: No. Me: If it's not invisible then how come we can't see it? Abe: *Sigh* Okay, it's an old mummy. Me: I'll hit it with my poleaxe. (Roll damage) Abe: (without looking at the dice) You do no damage. It disappears into thin air. Which ended the session, and the campaign, because none of us had any desire to continue. Abe still gets reminded of the impossible three meter chasm every once in a while. It's become a bit of an in-joke. In hindsight, I guess the campaign wasn't the worst ever (At least there was no actual danger of getting my face punched in, unlike in my old group  ), just badly GM:d and rather bizarre.
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Mar 20, 2012 22:48
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Liesmith posted:Your boy started the campaign by designing a dude who was completely broken, then using a completely retarded strategy to wreck the game. In my opinion he was begging for the DM to pull some sort of awful escalation. Or maybe the GM should've had the decency to at least read some of the rules before approving his character. He definitely had the chance, and the power to deny Eric's character. But he didn't, because, like rest of his GM:ing, he half-assed on getting to know the rules ( and this was after being in a several month long campaign of the same game). quote:And the argument that he's a terrible GM doesn't work, because you knew that going in, and fired the first shot rather than just not playing with him. You went in depending on him to be a bad GM as part of your plan for enjoying yourself. You don't then get to turn around on him and say "oh look waht a bad DM he is!" At that point, it was his campaign or naught. Back then I had no say in what got played, so I just tagged along for the ride. I went in expecting the same kind of sandboxy fun we had had in the same group previously. Instead I got a gloating description of how we were going to get crucified. So hell yeah, look what a bad GM he is. quote:If you guys had fun with it that's one thing, but I would hate to play with either you or this Abe guy, you both seem as bad as one another. U-huh.
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Mar 20, 2012 23:20
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GaryLeeLoveBuckets posted:For bonus points, the DM gave us a Wand of Wonder that has 600 things that can happen and infinite charges. Our last game, over an our was spent with people pointing the wand at eachother to see what would happen. What ended up happening: Someone gained a +4 (untyped) bonus to strength permanently, the ranger grew wings permanently, a player had to talk in a rhyme until we can break enchantment on them, the monk caught a disease, and a bunch of random spells happened. Apparently it can instant kill you with no save as well, and can target people not involved in the wand pointing. I was tempted to throw it in an acid pit we crossed over because they kept using it and hitting me. This reminds me of the "Mystery pills" we used to have in our Paranoia campaign. They lead to some hilarious crap. Of course, that was Paranoia. They might not be so much at home in a serious setting.
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Mar 21, 2012 17:41
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berryjon posted:Goddamn, this is bad. Even in our current group, as unenlightened as it is, there is one golden rule, and that's to never let your party down (unless we're playing Paranoia, then all bets are off). I mean, I can sort of get the "cool" aspect of being an awful sociopath and sacrifing someone for your own good, but... It was a new dude. Always go easy on the new dude. Good job on exiling him, I suppose. Edit: And to not to be sanctimonious, your story was definitely worth a read, so I'm not criticising you for posting it. A smug sociopath fucked around with this message at 00:37 on Mar 23, 2012 |
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Mar 23, 2012 00:32
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Siminu posted:Midway through, evil finally clicked. We had something similar in our first Praedor campaign. We had been hired to provide security for a trade caravan going through some bad territory for a small pay. On the first night, we were standing guard while the rest of the caravan was asleep. "Hey, why don't we just take these guys out and sell the caravan goods ourselves? We'd make a lot more bank that way." "Can we make a bonfire of the corpses?" "Uhh... Sure, why not." "Let's do it!" We eventually ended up becoming actual pirates, and it was pretty awesome.
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Mar 26, 2012 07:56
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I thought I'd share my most bizarre RPG:ing session. We were going to play a modernday evil campaign, led by this guy we call Shroom. That's obviously not his real name, but that's what everyone calls him. Something to do with mushrooms, I'd imagine. Now, he was going to GM an evil campaign, set in an oppressive state with the players as secret government agents tasked with, uh "Internal security". Essentially, the setting was North Korea meets Mad Men. The premise was that we would be doing raids against a rebel force and other threats while trying to keep from getting hosed by the system ourselves. Kinda like a more serious Paranoia, without the infighting. I'd never played a campaign led by Shroom, and only played a few sessions of Vampire and Song of fire&ice with him previously. Rest of our party was more familiar with him. Before the first session the following conversation took place: Eric: Abe, it's going to be fun. Abe: No it's not, it's led by Shroom! Me: So? Abe: He's a sicko! Me: Like me? Abe: I mean it, he's a loving pervert. Me: Whatever... I thought Abe just being Abe. I was wrong. Soon enough, Shroom arrives, and we begin playing. I played an old mercenary called Rolf De Heer (stolen directly from the director of Bad Boy Bubby, because I have no imagination with names), who was pretty much a fat John Mullins. Eric played an old drunkard mercenary, Abe was a young, physically fit but retarded ex-cop. Mark and Ed played more... Intelligence-oriented characters. In our first mission, we were tasked with silencing a diplomat from another nation, who was causing trouble and bad press with his vocal questions about the regime. The kicker? He must not be harmed. We had to come up with a scheme to make him loyal to us, or somehow extort him, instead of straight up making him disappear. So we came up with the classic movie bad guy plan; get the guy drunk, and have him wake up next to a dead prostitute. Then catch him in the act. We proceeded with the plan; my character went to pick up a suitably dingy hotel room and prepare it, while Eric began hanging out with our target, feeding him with a shot after shot of the finest alcoholic beverages. Mark and Ed went to pick a suitable corpse and some cow blood from the butcher shop, and did the necessary preparations on it. Abe was tasked with surveillance of the target and Eric, so that we could time our actions accordingly. Everything goes smoothly, and we get the target into the hotel room, passed out drunk, next to the dead corpse. We prepared for our next move. That's when things turned to poo poo. Literally. Shroom: You barge into the room, and right away an awful smell hits you. Me: Whatever, I enter. Shroom: You see that the diplomat has began making GBS threads himself uncontrollably from the shock of seeing the corpse, and from being drunk. Eric: Oh gently caress no. Mark: What the gently caress, Shroom? At this point the voice levels began to rise, as Shroom described the lovely details with a maniacal grin while everyone else was trying to drown out his voice with their screaming. Shroom: His pants are being filled with brown liquid poo poo and it's pouring all over the floor! It's flowing everywhere and sprays on the dead hooker! Abe: gently caress you! Shut up! Shut up! Eric: Shroom, you oval office! Me:  Shroom: And the white sheets are now covered in brown liquid poo poo, and the diplomat begins to puke on top of the poo poo... (and he goes on, you get the picture) Abe: You loving freak! loving sick freak! Eric: Shut up with the poo poo already! Shroom: Roll stamina. If you fail, you puke. Ed failed, and joined in the puking. After that, Shroom mellowed, and we continued to wonder what the gently caress got into him. After recovering from the shock, we managed to play the session through without any more disgusting fetishes lurking in. Shroom gets poo poo about it constantly, nowadays. That comic about the golden shower forest and the piss fetish gm? Yeah, we wave it at his face every once in a while, too. The diarrhea diplomat has almost become as legendary at our RP group as the tale of the "Rapist shitdwarves", as I've heard them called. Though I was not involved in that one, so it's not really my RP:ing experince. loving luckily 
A smug sociopath fucked around with this message at 16:37 on Apr 11, 2012 |
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Apr 11, 2012 13:25
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That's the one. Tried googling it myself for reference, but GIS':ng "piss fetish gm" produced some rather unwanted results.
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Apr 11, 2012 15:01
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Doktor Per posted:They invited their neighbors to be polite and then remembered that the dead PCs had raped the dad/husband from next door. A pretty long roleplaying sequence where they were hogging the guy telling him rapejokes, rape allusions or rape double entendres untill he couldn't really speak any more and left. This isn't really the worst thing they've done as they've blown up an entire settlement, families and children and all "to finish a mission fast." The thousands of mining families who were just there were collateral damage.  (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 21, 2012 21:53
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Arashiofordo3 posted:Raperaperaperape, vomit. Or you could just, I dunno, maybe not include rape in your games. Like, at all. That poo poo's hosed, yo. On a lighter note, I returned back to roleplaying after a four month long hiatus (which I spent mostly running in the woods with a camera so I had very little time for roleplay). My last rp'ing before the hiatus was a campaign of Qin, which lasted a whole of three sessions and was loving awful, as most of the sessions I just spent hours doing gently caress all while one of the players had a 3 hour long duel with an npc. So, suffice to say I was a little hesitant about returning. We've now played two sessions of a fantasy game called "Tales of Generia", GM:d by Mark, who, while a mainstay in our group, had never GM:d before as far as I know. And surprisingly, he's pretty drat good. There are no douche NPC:s, no railroading and no infighting. He let us have a lot of in-party banter and lets the players develop our backstories on the fly, which leads to hilarious exchanges and situations. We play as a sort of a family; I play a half-elf, Shroom plays a human who's married to the half-elf's sister, and Eric plays Shroom's brother. They're both mages, and somewhat bonkers. Contrary to what I usually play (a sociopath) I decided to play a paragon of good, whose motive to adventuring is to simply make the world a better place. I made the character stupid, but strong and fast. He's named Futilius. Eric's mage is a drunkard and a slob, who only cares about money, and Shroom's mage is a power hungry bigot who also wants to "cure" the half-elf race by removing the elf part of the equation. Also, although paired with two mages, my character fears and hates magic, as magic tends to go horribly wrong very often in this setting. With a party like that, the parts of the game that are not adventure turn very much into "Tales of generia: The sitcom". Which, admittedly, sounds painful, but for the whole of the gaming group is a blast. For example, a discussion on the second with a person offering a bounty for some goblins went like this; NPC: (tells us about a goblin threat and how the city watch won't do anything about it; and a curious detail, the goblins use bows) Shroom: Goblins don't use bows, it must be an illusion by a powerful mage! NPC: Uh... Shroom: We should capture this mage so I can absorb his power. NPC: So, about the goblins... Eric: I could do a spell of detect magic to find him! Me: Guys, there's no mage, it's goblins. NPC: As I was saying... Eric: This man clearly does not have the mental capacity to understand the gravity of the situation. Shroom: Perhaps I should put a spell on him to increase his wisdom! NPC stars glancing at us like madmen. Me: No! No spells, my sister told me about what happened to those rats! (Shroom had tried his spells on some rats in his basement and accidentally caused their heads to explode) Shroom: I was only trying to improve them. Me: And you didn't even clean the blood off the carpet afterwards. I don't want you to blow this mans head off! NPC: Wait, what? Blow whose what off? All of us stop talking and stare at him, then Eric deadpans. Eric: So what's the pay? The man is pretty much speechless and starts looking for an alarm. Me: That's it. Out with you two. I grab the brothers by the collars, throw them out and close the door. Me: Now, tell me about those goblins. Outside, they begin to make plans of their own. Shroom: I want to hear what they're talking about. Eric: I know, we should make a portal on the ceiling so we can hear and see them! Me: We can hear you! Eric: Wait, what? GM: There's an open window next to the door. So they just poke their heads through the window. Eric: Ask him about the pay! Me: We didn't become adventurers for money!  Eric: I sure did! Shroom: And I! Me:  Eventually the NPC told us about the bounty, and we went on to trek on the burned grounds of goblin territory, hunting pork with portal magic and annihilating goblins with fire and steel. Eric and Shroom turned out to be partially right about the goblins, too; they were reinforced by a shaman, living deep in the caves of the burned land...
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Aug 22, 2012 10:50
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