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A Long Time ago, in a town far far away...
I was running a Star Wars game, and the PC's had captured some imperials. They had an alliance issued protocol droid (or so they thought) They needed to get something done NOW, and lacked time to tie up the imps, and the droid volenteered to do it. When they asked if it could, I said, in my best C-3PO imitation, "I am skilled in over six million forms of restraint..." |
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From our Hero game:
A virus has wiped out over 80% of all the powered healers in the world. The Fae (specifically the Seelie) have come back to “aid humanity in its hour of need.” The characters that took part in that story line are taking a break so we were playing with our teen-supers. Eve: Don’t the Dark Fae eat children? Izzy: We don’t know that theory is true! Mahou: That’s not what it said on Snopes! GM: *Peals of uncontrollable laughter* Izzy: Well, how would Snopes know? Mahou: It was written by the principal! (The Principal of the MegaDenver Paranormal High School is an expatriate Fae) ----- Izzy: What do they look like? Brandi: According to Dawn (the Principal), they can look like anything they want. Eve: So, how do we find them? Brandi: I’m pretty sure Chet (Sarnath security) can pick them out by smell, now that he knows there here. Mahou: So . . . Chet has . . . “Fae-dar?” ----- Izzy: On your eighteenth birthday [at the Sarnath] you can arrange to have a vampire bite you. Eve: Really? Anything else? Izzy: Well . . . you can always . . . negotiate for something more. Eve: Really? Izzy: Yeah, I put down that I wanted to be bit by a vampire with loose morals. Mahou: Better go check your spelling on that, says here you wanted to be bit by a vampire with “loose molars.” |
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In a recent campaign, our characters had captured (rescued, actually...as she had been captured by someone else and we whacked 'em) an evil priestess.
She had already resisted being tortured by these other people and we weren't really keen on torturing her anyway, so I did this... Mark [to GM]: I cast Mind Reading GM: Okay, you can read her surface thoughts, which are full of utter loathing for you and your ilk Mark [to GM]: My character turns to her and hysterically screams... Galen (my character): Don't think of your plan! For the love of the gods, don't think of your plan! Thoughts of Evil Priestess (as played by GM): What!? Why would he tell me not to think about our plan to...[please insert about 30 seconds of details about the evil plan, eventually trailing off]...Wait a second, this guy can't read minds, can he? Galen: Go on. Evil Priestess: Crap. |
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Jeff: I'm the speedster and I can't get a word in edgewise!
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Sent in to investigate a distressed ship. Most of the crew and the forward team were found dead and most likely eaten by nano-glop. We find one of the survivors carrying a suitcase, he books it into the next hallway where he happens to have a tripod mounted.
P1: Guy Manning, Cyborg. P2: Hiasanthee; Leader and power armor operator. P3: Psion (me), sniper and psychic interrogater. P4) A rather quiet electronics operator who just started gaming with us today. P1) I shoot a tangler grenade around the corner. GM) He critically fails. He's stuck good. P2) I'm going to walk out cloaked and start asking questions GM as NPC) Paraphrasing: "Go **** yourself!" P2) [OOC] Lets wait for Psion to get back from the cargo hold. *departs to more pressing matters* P3) I walk in through the door cloaked and appear in front of the tangled fellow. NPC) *muffled* ermrhf?! P3) I can do this the old fashioned way, with a lot of time patience and energy, or I can just zap you and ask questions. NPC) ["Go **** yourself!"] P3) Awrite then. *Zap Glove* *Mind Probe* Hmm I see. *opens comm to P2* Sir? P2) "Yes?" P3) There are 5 more on the ship, they're all held up in the control room ready to steal the ship. They disguised themselves as workers and took over the ship. The captain sensed danger and activated the nano-devour defense. P2) That's why our forward team disappeared... P2 radios in the situation and high command reports back that standard procedure when dealing with pirates is STK. I was JUST about to enter the doorway behind the tangled pirate stuck on the tripod gun when I hear this communication. I pull out my pistol, turn around and cap the back of his head in. Our GM has a rule; "You get one." Anything else is said in character. There was much overjoyed maniacal laughter over the comms preceeding a gunshot. P1) He's our psychiatrist? I get such a kick out of it because I look at the situation from high command. Some shmoe with stripes is on the other end of a military radio station listening to a quick 3-ha cackle and a gunshot RIGHT after he gives permission to kill. This was a very memorable moment to me but you had to be there, so this isn't the moment I'm writing about. Continueing on! We get to the ONLY entrance to the ship's control room and the following out-of-character questionaire begins. P3) Hm. Is there another way out of the control room? GM) No. P2) Alright, whats the attack plan? P4) I do a scan of the room. GM) You find a few gravity objects inside P3) (Rolling my eyes really hard and thinking how useful a statement that was from the GM. There's STUFF inside! orly?!) "I have a tangler rocket. I can probably take them all out." P1) I could just shoot a grenade in there. P4) I have a strobe arrow, that'd take them out. [Roughly 15 minutes go by discussing the various ways we can execute this attack.] P3) Wait, we can kill them? *forgot he shot a pirate in the head a few moments ago* OH why am I doing this, lets just open it up and toss a grenade in...wait do we need anything in there? GM) Huh? P3) The equipment, is it vital or anything? GM) You were sent in here to investigate the place! You dont need anything inside there! P3) So we dont need the ship? GM) Its a private operation! Who's going to care! The crew's DEAD who's gonig to bother?! P1)P2)P3)P4) What? GM) I said the ship's not important! ... P1)P2)P3)P4) **** this, nuke the ship! GM) huh? P2) Just nuke the ship, everyone out of the ship. P3) I plant a grenade at the door incase they try to leave. And then our ship's spinal weapon atomized the mining vessel. P2) [More Paraphrase!] Ok what's the next mission? Are we grocery shopping for the hegemony? P3) Actually, we ARE running low on steak. |
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This course has two main components. These are a telepath or mind reading device, and a shock collar. The trainee wears the shock collar, and is placed under telepathic monitoring. Periodically, the instructor will scream "Don't think about sex!" or some similarly intriguing topic. If the trainee does think about the subject, he or she is promptly given a shock. The advanced course is much much worse... |
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A couple of friends were at the comic shop looking for minis and the shop clerk came over and was helping them. He picked up an Ogre mini that had a massive two-handed sword in his hand and a mace and a dead pig tied to his belt.
Shop clerk - "This dude's got spank..." Friend 1 - "yeah and check out the mace... but why's he got a dead pig" Shop clerk - "when this guy's fighting and he grabs the pig everyone will be like 'what's he doing' and then they'll be like 'oh s__t, he's throwing it now!" My friends said they almost fell over from laughter. "this dude's got spank" is now a colloquialism of the group... |
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So one of our party is being attacked by a morning glory that's not a morning person. My PC's hand is crackling with an electrical spell and I'm about to make with the fried salad when I realize that this may not be the brightest of ideas if it grounds through my friend.
Me, OOC to the GM: Hey, how realistic is the physics here? GM: You're in a city outside of reality being attacked by a vine. |
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Rules discussion involving me, my GM and my (then) SO, back in 3e days:
GM: Curiosity is a scary disadvantage! It makes you do stoopid stuff unless you roll your self control. SO: But one can roll his IQ to resist. GM: But the character's version has a penalty to the roll! I remember! It's at -2 or -3 or so. Me: Don't remember, but it doesn't matter. I roll against 13, because Disad Resistance rolls can't be above 13, and I specifically bought it so that my roll is reduced to 13. [My char had high IQ.] GM, towards my SO: How could you! You're dating a munchkin! |
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I washed an atrium floor with moonshine before exploring the rest of a demon infested mansion planning on lighting it in a time of need later. Well that later came up and I'd been chased back to the atrium, the demon melted out of the floor and appeared in front of me. I'd been carrying a lit torch for some time now and just dropped it on the floor.
The demon announces as the floor lights ablaze "You think this is going to do something to a demon born of fire?" My character flashes a smile as smug as mortally possible then pushes the b*****d down onto the burning floor and books it. As Chanteclaire runs he shouts over his shoulder "ENJOY THE SMOKE!" |
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In Gummi's MegaDenver: Teens game, my character Brandi has just been responsible for a major turn of events resulting in someone getting killed (it's complicated). I told Gummi that Brandi is going to need to take some time off. He misunderstood and assumed I meant I was going to retire her.
All OOC (I'm on speakerphone at Gummi's end, his wife is listening in) Gummi: No, this is great roleplaying opportunity! Me: I agree, Brandi just needs some time off. Gummi: No! The school needs this, this is the kind of thing they point to and say "See, being a superhero is hard! You have to be strong." Me: Um, no, I don't think the school would want to call attention to this sort of thing. Gummi: Of course they would, it's really great to show how the teens can overcome adversity. Me: Dude, Brandi's fifteen. This doesn't need to get out. Gummi: That makes it all the better! Me: Better?! Dude, okay, let's look at this: Brandi actively tried to seduce Cass, which [angered him] to the point where he did sleep with her and used his curse on her, making her only want him. Doing so caused Cass to violate Edward's rules resulting in Edward running a public spectacle where he killed Cass making sure Brandi had a front-row seat. Then Ed had the audacity to tell Brandi that this wasn't her fault! Yeah, Dawn* is going to want that to go into the school's advertisements! Darque: (laughing hysterically in the background) Gummi: Well, when you put it that way . . .. * Dawn is the school's principal. |
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Me: I seem to remember something about Izzy and a vampire with "loose molars."
Ghost-Raven: Ow! My head. Bad GM! No more puns from you. Me: Don't look at me, that was MonkeyFist. He's also the one who came up with HermaphroKnight. ----- Me: Well, I would have tried to court Izzy, but she's not really super-villain material. That's why I went with Elliot. Darque: What?! Of course she is! MonkeyFist: Izzy is such a poser. Darque: She is not a poser. Me: Oh, please, Izzy would balk if she had to eat a kitten! Darque: *stunned silence as she ponders the thought* Ghost-Raven: But, Jessica would eat a kitten and she's not evil. Me: Dude, Jessica will eat anything she can get her mouth around and chew through. She's not a good metric. Ghost-Raven: True enough. Ravengriff: Poor kitten. |
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I was reading some gaming logs from about a decade ago that had a few gems in it:
Me: "I feel like a Great Dane that's caught a sub-compact: now that I've got it, what do I do with it." Chance: "Faster than a speeding bullet? More powerful than a locomotive?" Me: "Just needs to be bullet/blaster proof." Chance: "A severe allergy to glowing green rocks?" Me: "Nope, just one to Magical Swords." Me: "Did you get a look at it on satellite?" Max: "Yeah, it looked like a mix between a dinosaur and a centipede." Jolie: "A dinopede?" Me: Total Recall or Twister MonkeyFist: Huh? Me: Which movie should I watch next? MonkeyFist: No clue. Me: Twister it is. |
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A couple of epic moments from a Space opera RP we did Recently With Me GMing...
(In the first Session not many people turned up, only 2. So they ended up with an AI and a human Sharing a modified one man Fighter Ship. However the next Session 5 or 6 showed up...) Me: Right. Do you want the bad news, the good news, the very good news the very very good news or the very very very good news First? Player 1 (Playing ships AI): Bad News Me: You only have 14 months worth of pure water left on board ship and only 15 months of Oxygen. P: Oh...Whats the good news. M: That won't be a problem as you only have 5 months worth of food left....The very good news is, that doesn't matter either as you only have 4 months worth of Toilet paper left...the very very good news is that is irrelivent as you only have 2 months worth of Petrol left... P (By this point rather Worried):...Whats the very very very good news? Me: The journey should only take another week... --- Me: Right. there are 4 of you...you only have 1 bed and a Sofa...How is this going to work... P1: You could have 2 on each. (All the other players Disagree) P2: Right. We'll take Turns on the bed, Doing shifts each night, one on the Sofa, two in the bed and the otehr can Find somewhere else to sleep... P3: No one is sharing the Bed... P2: Fine. Someone can Sleep on the toilet If tahts okay with the GM... GM: Well ti would be uncomfotrable But I guess you could. Right, Night hits P2 has teh bed, P 3 has the Sofa, P4 has the Toilet...P5 where are you... P5: I'm wrapped up in the giant Pile of Andrex toilet paper we have in the Cargo hold...*Polite Smile* (The bed was Quality 1 out of 50...the Toilet paper was Quality 14) GM:.........You are the comfiest Person on the ship... |
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I have to say if I had a GM do the last one I would have serious problems in resisting the urge to start an OOC debate on the morality of immediately impaling the GM before he/she could breed...
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The Player took it rather well really. |
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Izzy (Turning to Chaste): Okay. Rock/paper/scisors.
Peter: What are you two doing? Izzy: We're deciding who'll call Dawn (the school principal). Elliot: What? I'll do it. Elliot (ooc to GM): I'll call my voice mail and have a short conversation. Me (GM): *nods* Elliot: Okay, we'll meet you there. Dawn wants us to take Suzi and meet her at Moth Park, she says they're on that side of town. Eva (ooc): I can't believe he's lying to us. Izzy (ooc): This is so weird, but I don't have any psychology skills that would be relevant. I've got Vampires and BDSM. Me: *Laughs* Sure! Go for it. Let's see a 3! Izzy: *Rolls an 18* everyone: *Laughs for about ten minutes* Me: As far as you can tell, this is the most honest Elliot has ever been. He must really have turned over a new leaf. |
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"I guess I blame myself, he's got size 30 shoes and is wider than I am tall."
P1:"You're not good with social situations are you?" Me: "I'm what they send when diplomacy fails." |
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Now that you mentioned diplomacy :P
While playing a fantasy campaign, my character was a scholar, who was fascinated with history. He was also a pacifist, with the knowledge of diplomacy. So, a NPC told us to battle their neighbour village, 'cos they always hated them. Me: But there must be a way! Why fighting! NPC: Because they are thorns in our feets! Me: But with proper way, you could stop them with the power of great, mighty diplomacy! Rufus (warrior PC. Takes out his mace) The only way to beat them is with my great, mighty DIPLOMACE! |
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Ever Since this incident all rather 'interesting' PC enterances have been known as 'Umzaking' (Umzak is the cahracters name) the entire group agree, it was the most brilliant enterance any character has ever had.
The background was, the Party had just finished a pub brawl in an inn they were staying in which one of them had started, the inn was on the outrskirts of a major city which all races traded in. Umzak was a half-Demon of lust, he was Charming, Handsom, impulsive and had no respect for boundarys, mental, physical, social or peronal, he never knew how to stop. Umzak had had a single half hour turn before meeting up with the party. PC 1 (Female, Human, warror): *Wipes blood of her sword and Sits Down* Right...maybe now we can sit down and have a Drink and some peace and quie... GM: Suddenly the northen wall of teh inn Implodes showering you all with Debris and wood. A 50 foot tall naked Succubus runs in. You see a man is Jammed between her breasts. Umzak, describe yourself. PC 2 (Umzak): The man is about 6 foot tall, about 23 to 26, he is wearing a full body Dark pink Cloak, his hood is down so you can see his face, shoulder length black almost blue hair and a small soul patch, no stubble. You can't see much else from where you are but he has Green eyes wtih Red flecks in them, his features are chisled and sharp. From what you can see he appears to be Smiling a rather mad smile and...fondling the Succubus... Suddenly he points at the South wall and yells "Come on Toots! We've got to keep going. out through the wall!" He looks at you *Points at PC 1* And Blows a Kiss "Hello...Can't stop to chat but I Might meet you later if I can find you..." All the other Players:... *Looks of Shock/Confusion* GM: The Succubs charges out through the south wall, about 3 minutes after the succubus leaves a Large mob of women arrive of Varying Species. About 50 Women, some look angry, some look unhappy, some look lustful...They all simoulatiously point at you *PC 1* "Which way did the B******/Man in the cloak/Handsome one/ Hot Dude Go! PC 1: *Points* GM: They give a resounding "Thank you!" and run out the other wall. PC 2: "Well...that went well. Thanks for covering for me and Toots Cuteie... GM: You see The man Climb down off the roof of the inn, as does the succubus... PC 2: *Walks over to PC 1* Well I can think of a way to thank you...But that can wait for later... Needless to say...They got on rather well. |
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4 weeks ago, I was GMing a campaign, named Azeroth (it's WoW, to be honest).
There was this PC, playing a troll named Kara'chute, who is completely frickin clueless, which makes him irresistably hilarious and somewhat...charismatic. Here are some of his quotes. PC1 (serious voice): I think it's not a smart idea. By going to that pit we would require a LOT of extra equipment, like invisibility dust. PC2: I'm still not sure about going there, I mean, our main goal is to obtain all of Guldan's jewels, and destroy them, why bother with a mere demon pit? (PC1 & 2 start to debate extremely seriously about stuff, and the atmosphere is also frickin serious and tense) Kara'Chute (out of nowhere...btw, trolls in Azeroth have 3 fingers on a hand...he starts to do something with his hand and says...): How would I look with 5 fingers? PC1 & PC2 & PC3 & me: So frickin clueless... _________________ Kara'Chute: Let's go back, Kara'Chute hungry. PC1: No, we press forward, we gotta reach our destination. Kara'Chute: But Kara'Chute wants food. PC1: Shut the hell (a trap triggers and traps them)...up! Kara'Chute: (looks around and notices quillboars, humanoid pigs): Me no want to be eaten by pigs, me want eat pigs. PC1: Oh shut up... Kara'Chute: Me hungry. _________________ PC2: Are you trolls...cannibals? Kara'Chute: Canni...what? PC2: You know...do you eat people? Kara'Chute: You call that cannibals?! PC2: Yeah, why? Kara'Chute: We call them vegetarians. PC2: Holy crap. |
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Unfortunately oger logic is kinda lacking, so the following assumption took place: Oger is veggytarian, horses eat grass, hence horses vegetarian diet, thus horses veggytarian food... |
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Speaking of cannibals:
I was, IC, talking to the GM. In the background, party conversation, I hear someone say something about cannibalism. Me (turning, in IC shock): Waitaminute! I heard “cannibalism!” What are you talking about! Sizzle: I was just saying that there are plenty of people on the space station and that if something happens we’d have plenty of food, we’d just have to resort to cannibalism. MonkeyFist (playing a talking dog): It’s only cannibalism for you. ----- Gummi (GM): The probe was going to our nearest galactic neighbor and was going to be able to go and return in six months. It has a top speed of thirty-two times the speed of light! Me: (dumbfounded) Thirty-two million? Gummi: No, just thirty-two. Me: Dude, the nearest Galaxy is over a million light-years away. Gummi: No, it’s only eight! Me (after picking myself up off the floor): Are you talking about a cluster of hundreds of billions of stars, or just a star and its planets? The nearest star is four-point-four light-years away. Gummi: Cluster, hundreds-of-billions. Me: Dude, you’ve seen MIB, Galaxies are HUGE! There are no galaxies that close! Gummi: They are not millions of light-years away. Sizzle (from doing a web search): Canis Major Dwarf Galaxy is listed as the closest, at 25,000 light-years. Me: Yeah, we’re eating that one. Check Andromeda. Ignore the ones we’re eating. Sizzle: Huh?! . . . uh . . .. It says there are two Andromeda. Me: Check NGC 6822 and M31. Sizzle (typing): Uh. NGC 6822 . . . Barnard’s Galaxy is 1.63 million light-years away. M31 . . . Andromeda Galaxy is 2.56 million light-years away. Me (singing): Our Galaxy itself contains a hundred-billion stars. Its a hundred-thousand light-years side-to-side. It bulges in the middle: sixteen-thousand light-years thick. But out by us it’s just three-thousand light-years wide. We’re thirty-thousand light-years from galactic central point. We go ‘round every two-hundred million years! And our Galaxy itself is only one of millions of billions in this amazing and expanding universe! Gummi: I love Life of Brian. Me: Meaning of Life. I shouldn’t, necessarily, expect too much scientific accuracy from a man who genuinely believes that we, in the real-world, are less than 20 years away from true anti-gravity, but confusing your Python movies is unforgivable! |
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We were playing a 2e AD&D campaign, the wizard had just finished casting sleep I think...
DM: The Ettin collapses sound asleep through the hole into the sewer, landing on and flattening the dwarf in the process, the cold water in the sewer and the landing awakens it. *PCs scramble to get some free hits while it attempts to regain its feet.* DM: The Ettin grabs the flattened dwarf by the ankle and starts using it as a club against you. Me (playing a Halfling and not wanting to get flattened): Wait, is it a one-handed or two-handed dwarf? DM: It's a dwarf being wielded by an Ettin, it's one-handed... Me: Is the ettin proficient?" DM: ... |
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We figured each projectile would hit two kobolds, and all three would perish from the impact.... |
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The following exchange came up during D&D Game Day at my hometown's gaming store, as the adventure got under way :
DM: “You can hear the faint sound of water dripping,” the Dungeon Master intoned. Player 1: “OK, OK. (Turns to other players) What do you think? Spiders? Undead? Giant rats?” Player 2: “I’m going for giant rats. There’s getting to be a lot of giant animals around these days.” In my mind, I could almost hear the commercial: "Giant Animals. Because shambling zombies are, like, SO '80s." |
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D&D 4e game last night. My character, a rather stupid minotaur named Mrugnak (sound familiar anyone?) has been framed for killing a dwarf while drunk out of his mind.
It's part of a Skill Challenge. This quote comes from the final big trial showdown, where the PCs are trying to save him. DM Tarl: Any assist attempts? Mrugnak can make cow eyes. That's about it. ** DM Tarl: Doo it. Leshanna: (Better not ask me, 0 in charisma bonuses) Mrugnak makes cow eyes. [1d20+0] => [2,0] = (2) ** Mrugnak accidentally gives someone the stink-eye. ** Leshanna tries to help things by speaking fondly of the fellow [1d20] => [5] = (5) ** Leshanna: but can't think of something to say. Leshanna: as he really DOSEN'T have any redeeming features in her mind. Mrugnak: Can I spend an action point to reroll, this is my life here. Eshava: (( The cuuuuuuurse... )) DM Tarl: Sure. Mrugnak: DEAR GOD PLEASE [1d20+0] => [1,0] = (1) Mrugnak: fu DM Tarl: God hates you. |
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The game was a throw together for three of us nerdy types one evening while we were exceptionally bored. Given their intelligence (real life), they should have known better...
On a small space craft in... err... space... P1: I attempt to body slam him. GM: Okay, roll... Good job! P1: I did it? Nice! But I don't "slam" him. I want to hold him over my head where he'll be pretty helpless. GM: Ummm, okay. Well, I suppose you're strong enough for that... P1 (to P2): Open the airloack. P2: Okay! GM: Errrmmm... okay, guys... are you sure you wanna do that? P1 and P2: Yeah! GM: ... P2 looks at P1, they exchange questioning glances, shrug... P2: I open the airlock. GM: Okay... Then a wall of realization struck both players at the same moment. The look on their faces was priceless and given my far-more-than-fair warning, they knew there was no take-backs. |
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Or forgot to tether themselves to something? |
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My gaming group is mostly d20 players (our "house rule" is that whoever GMs gets to choose the system and the setting, and we rotate between GMs every few months). Like many d20 players, much of their time is spent complaining about d20 and its many sins.
(The weird thing about all this is that the more I play d20, the less these things bother me. It's my friends who have been devoted to D&D for twenty years who are always frothing at the mouth. I think it's just that I've come to accept d20 for what it is--quite good for certain kinds of gaming but not really suited to other kinds, so it is silly to expect it to do well--and so its failings just don't bother me much anymore. It is what it is.) Usually, about five or ten minutes into the lamentations, and not so much because I'm trying to argue with them but because I know it will get a rise out of them and I just can't help myself, I will say one of two things... Mark: Would this be a bad time to mention that none of these problems exist in GURPS? or... Mark: You know, in GURPS you can do it this way [holds up a solution to a problem that has been argued about for 30 minutes, sketched on a piece of notebook paper in about 30 seconds] Am I bad person because I enjoy tormenting my friends like this? Of course I am. It's part of my charm. :) Mark |
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I had to make this picture before posting this long quote:
Mahou (MonkeyFist): “You can’t go in there! Everyone who has, died; their souls were devoured.” Brandi (Me): Leans in and kisses Mahou. “It’s okay, love. I’ll be fine.” Brandi pushes the doors open and turns her back to the door and gives a telling smile to Mahou. Mahou: (Player figures it out and smiles) Gummi (GM): A pair of arms reach out and pull you into the house. You’re at a DCV of 0, I’m not going to roll. Brandi: Plfth! She’s not going to resist. Does it hurt? Gummi: Not until you slam into the ground; take 15 stun. Brandi: “Ow!” I am not, however, stunned. Gummi: The ghost moves over you and smiles triumphantly down at you. Brandi: What a coincidence . . . so is Brandi. Her eye fires are flickering. Gummi: Huh? Does Brandi affect Desol? Brandi: Yes, but that’s not why she’s smiling. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?” Gummi: “By coming in here your life and soul are forfeit.” Brandi: (to MonkeyFist) don’t think he’s figured it out yet. “Putting the cart before the horse, a little, aren’t we?” Gummi: (Slightly confused look on his face) “When I consume your . . .” (Gummi’s face drops and his voice trails off) Ray: (Channeling Shutterbug) *CLICK* That’s five pictures of Irony! Brandi: (huge smile) Go ahead, Gummi! Say it! Gummi: Oh, (Expletive deleted)! Brandi: The ghost wants to say “when I consume your soul,” right? Gummi: (clutching his head in defeat.) Uh-huh. It gets difficult keeping track of all the <bleep>ed up things that have happened to your characters sometimes. Brandi: And what is Taraxus, the demon-prince you put inside of Brandi to give her powers, going to have to say about that? Gummi: He’s gunna come out and eat the ghost. Brandi: “I love it when a plan comes together.” Mahou: I break out the marshmallows and pompoms. Eva: Pompoms? Mahou: This is where two of Gummi’s diametrically opposed baddies get to duke it out. We cheer for our favorite. Brandi: It’s like a fight between Tool and Radiohead: Assuming they kill each other, the world wins. It was a long way to go for a stupid, Something Awful quote. But just watching Gummi’s face drop when he realized he had screwed himself was priceless. |
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In my Saturday Morning Travelling Rock & Roll band campaign, the band (The Evil Bunnies) were in Tokyo where the group's techie, J.B. is mistaken for a hit man who's been hired by the Yakuza to assassinate the Pope. (Why does the Yakuza want to kill the Pope? Actually, the players never asked so we never found out).
At one point in the game, I had an NPC suggest that the group's roadie, Dick Dimple (yes, that's the character's name) disguise himself as the Pope to act as a decoy. DICK: There's no way that could possibly work... But I've always wanted to try out that hat. Go ahead. Pope me! |
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Scene from a recent Supers RP of ours:
PC 1 was playing the First recorded super, a super with Regeration 9, he literally couldn't die, if he was totally destroyed then his body would regrow from the remains within 10 minutes to 2 days. He was over 13100 years old (Born about the same time people started making pots) and had lived up until the modern age as a scholar and warrior, when he got into a fight his regenration starts to speed up and he was currently a history professor at a university, well known for being a bit stuffy, boring and rather detailed with his history. PC2 and 3 were students of his, PC 2 actualy being his most recent Great-Great-ect-Grand daughter. There had just been a battle between him and another teacher who had power stealing and had been using it, teleport, invisibility, telekenisis, pyrokenisis, cytokenisis, and other things. The battle had been raging for quite a while and the Pro had managed to grab a metal ruler which had been flying around. GM: Right, PC1, suddenly the entire room explodes, you don't even had a chance to roll out the way, the shrapnel pins you to the blackboard straight through your body. NPC Villan: (Invisible) Well...are you going to give me what I want? You have a pretty cool power...being able to live forever...I wouldn't mind having that... PC1: Go F*** yourself *Wrenches himself off the wall. the wounds start closing.* ...I'm guessing that you were the Transgenic that killed Class 32...tehy were your class, your students...Why? NPCV: Well. They were in my way... PC1: ...your a teacher you scum, your meant to be a hero, even if they don't appreciate it you should help them...not...not kill them like sheep. *After a long battle PC1 ends up being welded to the floor with ice and then PC 2, 3 and a NPC back up come in. NPC back up Throws the bad guy through the window and runs downstairs to arrest him* GM: Right, PC2 and 3, you see Professor D. Grey, your history teacher standing in the middle of the blow out class room, his hair has grown down to his waist and his neatly cut beard has grown into a shaggy Viking style one. This, plus the fact he is now wearing pretty much a loincloth and that he has a long sharp peice of meta in one hand makes him look a bit like one of the old Barbarian heros from the stories... PC2: W..What happened? PC1: Professor Crayworth, from class 32, he was the rouge Transgenic...He has Telekinisis, Invisiblity, Cytokenisis... Voice from no where: ...Teleportation... GM: You see a pair of metal spines from thin air Drive through Olivers (PC3s) neck, he gurgles fora second then drops. Crayworth appears grinning twists off his head and throws the body to you (PC1), waves then disappears with the head. PC1:.........*Roars to the sky, incredible Barbaric roar from the time before time* PC3:...Damn, I hate when that happens... PC 1 & 2: ...What? GM: PC3s head regrows. PC3: I really hate it when that happens...What? PC2: ...Dude...your head regrew PC3: Duh, I'm a Transgenic too, Invunrability. Woah...prof...Nice beard...Like 'Conan' look PC1:...*looks at the beard*...Cheers... |
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scenario: 7 PC's have looted a temple on a volcanic island and are attempting to load a raft with treasure and escape as the lava works its wat towards them.
"i take the raft and sail off" 6 other PC's look up in shock! |
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From my Urban Decay Playground campaign/experimental run, last Saturday:
Bioroid: Who am I? MedBot (a medical robot): (silence). 'Roid: Human? Bot: No. Roid: Robot? Bot: No! Roid: Then what? Bot: Definitely not a typewriter. Roid: Oh. Maybe I'm a cyborg? Bot: Not necessarily. Roid: Then what else can I be? Bot: Definitely an unprintable character [as in, a symbol not found on the keyboard]. Roid: Bot, there's a wounded person in the engineering bay! Bot: Error: too many wounded for no human survivors. Roid: What? Bot: I said, can't have 1 wounded per 0 survivors. Bot: Do not worry, help is already coming. Roid 1: And how long is this 'help' going to keep coming? Bot: Until death. Roid 2: So the help is delivered in the form of death? Bot: That might not be necessary. Roid: Bot, can you replace the window in the control room. Repair Bot: No. While window replacement is in process, unauthorized entities, such as insect, will infiltrate the control room without the captain's permission. |
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Last night, playing DF. The party (dragon-blooded priest, human swashbuckler with fire magic, gnomish "acquisition specialist" {yeah, he's a thief} and a winged elf fighter) is being taken upriver via dugout canoe by a band of tribesmen when we are attacked by a crocodile. The gnome shoots his crossbow and throws one of his precious knives to no effect, the swashbuckler launches a series of completely ineffective explosive fireballs (well, almost ineffective -- the winged elf took a point), and the priest feeds fatigue to the swashbuckler. The winged elf is in the middle of her canoe, which is exactly where the croc wants to bite. There is a protracted battle, which is almost entirely won by the elf, who fired, among other attacks, an arrow straight down the beast's throat, planted another in one of it's eyes, almost left her shortsword stuck in the other eye, and narrowly avoided being eaten several times. Finally, it dies after a coup de grace bow shot from one of the tribesmen, and we manage to drag it to shore. It was all very dramatic, and the tribesmen are throughly impressed with the elf.
Me: How big is it? GM: About 20 feet. Me: That's gotta be about half a ton. GM: No way, more like 1000 pounds...oh, wait, I'm thinking metric. |
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During a D&D game years ago, our party encountered an individual who had been somehow shifted through time by the name of Karl Kolchak (yes, The Night Stalker, for all you fellow Boomers...) In the course of trying to explain a little about the world he was from, he gave us a crash course on politics in Chicago, which he admitted was quite rough-and-tumble "unless you're a Democrat."
To which our gnome fighter, who'd been quiet until that point goes, "Is that anything like a hippogriff?" ISTR the game stopping dead for at least 15 minutes while we laughed ourselves sick. it still brings a smile to my face to this day. |
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From my Serenity game tonight:
After a shootout on their boat, the crew has killed two assailants and captured a third. Interrogating him, they find out he does work. That is, he does 'work'. When they still don't get it, he explains: "That's 'work', spelt W-assassin-R-K." |
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And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful Wife And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here? Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down Letting the days go by/water flowing underground Into the blue again/after the moneys gone Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground. And you may ask yourself How do I work this? And you may ask yourself Where is that large automobile? And you may tell yourself This is not my beautiful house! And you may tell yourself This is not my beautiful wife! Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down Letting the days go by/water flowing underground Into the blue again/after the moneys gone Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground. Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was... Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was... Same as it ever was...same as it ever was... Water dissolving...and water removing There is water at the bottom of the ocean Carry the water at the bottom of the ocean Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean! Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down Letting the days go by/water flowing underground Into the blue again/in the silent water Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground. Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down Letting the days go by/water flowing underground Into the blue again/after the moneys gone Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground. And you may ask yourself What is that beautiful house? And you may ask yourself Where does that highway go? And you may ask yourself Am I right? ...am I wrong? And you may tell yourself My god!...what have I done? Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down Letting the days go by/water flowing underground Into the blue again/in the silent water Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground. Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down Letting the days go by/water flowing underground Into the blue again/after the moneys gone Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground. Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was... Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was... Same as it ever was...same as it ever was... I may be going mad. What do you think Dr Lovecraft? I actually said that in character once... Bonus twinkie points for the first to "ID" the quote... |
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It is a Talking Heads song but I suspect you quoted it from somewhere else?
Cheerio! |
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After learning about the poor girl Tatyana gradually turning into a Vampire and the really bad stench at the Burgomeister's house, our band of haphazard heroes - destined to perish at the House of Stradh - visit the local church where they meet the middle aged, kind and shy priest of Somegod (I really can't remember), Blabla (yes, I can't remember his name either). After a long talk he choses a kind and indirect way to remind us that it is dinner time and says "I'm going to eat dinner; I'm really a bad cook but if you like we can share."
We thank him and say goodbye going back to the stench and all sorts of weirdness. (Now, have to give some info about the GM - he has this superb tactic; when the players are losing interest for some reason, he introduces an absolutely shocking but totally irrelevant scene and when he gets everyone's attention back, he returns back to the story). Next morning, with some new developments to discuss from the night before, we head back to the church. (he starts doing it) We push open the half open doors through which strange, arcane voices seep. When we push open the door, we see that Blabla has a dagger in his hand, raised overhead, poised to strike and the altar in front of him is covered with blood. He also has a scarf wrapped around his wrist, dripping blood (heh, anyone getting the reference?). Anyways, shocked we may be, one of us realize this as one of the GM's famous numbers says "heh, there wasn't an altar!" The GM congratulates him and having all of ours attention resumes the game from the point we came to the church doors. At that point me and another player start to laugh and he says "Oh, he meant "bad" as in "evil!" He's an evil cook!!" (it's probably necessary I should explain at this point that "bad" and "evil" are a single word in Turkish :)). Cheerio! |
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Yes it is the Talking Heads. The bit about being mad and Dr Lovecraft was mine. I always thought that song more than a bit mad... |
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This is from my D&D3.5 game. A player was introducing a new character after his had died. The new character, he decided, would be a drunkard. As part of the group's D&D new character introduction, he was asked the standard question of if he, the character, would want to be brought back to life if he died. The character replied "Yes, but if you can't, bury me with my wine."
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Discussing a Weird War II game:
Me: The party would be members of the resistance in France. Raven: Do we have to be French? Me: No. You could be American, British, Norwegian . . . lots of things. Raven: Oooh, I could be a Viking Werewolf! Me: Yeah. But you will need to be able to read and speak French, at least at a broken level. Raven: Makes sense . . . check skills. Me: Um, French is an advantage. Raven: I wouldn't consider it an advantage to be French. A disadvantage: social sigma, OPH . . .. Me: I meant the language is an advantage. Raven: Oh, yeah! |
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Now I have to explain to my parents why I'm cackling in the middle of the night. |
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After several role-playing sessions using GURPS:
Me: "So, I just bought a new GURPS book-" My friend: "What's GURPS?" This is no joke. |
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Some years ago, I was in a group spending the day playing Paranoia. Towards the end, the GM made up his mind that one of the players, who had been irritating him, was going to lose a clone.
GM: Well, there's a 5% chance of you dying. Role a d20. Player: [shake, rattle, role]. Hah! A 17. I'm safe! GM: 17? That's just the number I was thinking of! I believe the official Paranoia term for this was "hosed." |
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One of the downsides (upsides?) of playing a dim character is trying to imagine what he makes of the other PC's casual conversation. You can't just sit around in quiet confusion, because then you get left out of all the noncombat scenes...
Scene: Online game through OpenRPG. We're trying to find the Tomb of the Blood Baron, but the bloody Baron has a whole bunch of false tombs hidden in the wilderness... Singeon: "The real one is better hidden, I bet, so you see the fakes first. Like a campflage." Singeon: "or camoflage, as it is sometimes called." Singeon: "It like the old riddle, where do you hide a tree? in a forest." Mrugnak: "Mrugnak know cammo. Dat not cammo, dat like... um... eggs." Singeon: "Eggs?" Mrugnak: "Eggs!" I watch as all the typing indicators come to a dead stop. And then there's this sudden storm as EVERYONE starts typing at once. Mordreona: "I could eat." Singeon: "Right! Eggs! Huh?" Mrugnak: "It like, der berd got lotta eggs, ya?" GM: ((GM loses it)) Lenia: ((Loses it angry, or loses it laughing? >.>)) Mrugnak: "So den snake eat some egg, rat eat some egg, men take some egg... but berd still got more eggs in nest." Singeon: "Back to camp, peoples." Mrugnak: "An den der little birdies!" GM: ((can't type, laughing)) Mordreona: "Good we should have a rest and eat, while I look this place over good." Lenia: ((Good work, Mrugnak. You broke the GM.)) |
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Kaz, the pyromaniac gargoyle pyromancer identifying a Potion of Fire Resistance: "EVIL! It's an evil potion of doom!! Seriously, it'll curse you."
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The players have followed a suspected diabolist to an Italian restaraunt during the night, and are observing a blasphemous cult ritual being performed in the kitchen.
Soon, a hideous demon appears out of smoke and fire. The demon-summoner approaches the demon and says..."Alright, Malfeggor, you'll be on dish-washing duty until you're cleared for the grill...now we're old fashioned wood stove here. You have an experience with one of those before?" It is stuff like this that made running a Buffy game so very rewarding. |
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In a Victorian RP with half tha players as Bowstreet runners and Half as Gangs people
PC1 HAd been captured by the bowstreet runners half way though a Crime (B&E on the Bowstreet runners Police station) and they knew he was guilty for Several other worse crimes (Murders, mostly of Bowstreet runners) He was in the cell waiting interrigation. PC1 (Criminal): *Playing a tune on the Bars with a Spoon.* PC2 (The current head of the PC group, head of police (All the Non-PC Police had been murdered): *Walks in and grabs the spoon* Hello you grubby, Theiving, murderous B******...So...How many of my comrads have you killed...?" PC1: OOOC: He can't take a verbal Statment can he without mesigning it, no recording Machines. GM: Nope. PC1: *Grins* Well...Two last night...Three last week...Give me a moment...*Works it out on his fingers*...about 15...including some of your Grubby Orpahns cop. *Grin* ...and you'll never prove it either PC2: *Been sitting there writing*...Well...Thats all I need. PC1:...What...you're not going to torture me?...Try and make me confess or anything? PC2: Nope. It's all good....Oh...Just so you know what we're going to do...*Yells out the door* Bring in the Witness. PC1: OOOC: Witness...But...No one saw me GM: No...They didn't (To PC1) What Witness? PC1: OOOC: You'll see IC *PC3 (Another Cop) And PC4 (A Orphan girl aged 7 working for the runners)* PC2: You recognise her *Points at PC4* PC1: OOOC: Do I? GM:...No *Confused* PC2: Well...you should...*Looks at PC4 points at PC1.* You recognise him? PC4: Yes, he raped me... GM & PC 1: WHAT?!?! PC2: OOOC: Well...I have Craft Evidence and she has Acting... GM:...Hahahaha PC4: *Does a big Description with PC1 brining out 'evidence'. PC1 is very pale and GM laughs all the way through, they have 'Evidence' For murder, rape, theft, GBH and Even a small bit of Treason.* PC2: ...Now...You can either have this list...and hang...or admit to what you did...and Hang...Your choice, but at least you'll hang for what you did if you confess it... PC1: You can't do this...It's ridicuous. You'll never get away with it PC2: *VEry cheery* Yes we can, it's your words against all of ours and the word of one sweet little orphan who you held down and ravished in a back ally two weeks ago and left to die... PC1:...You...you... PC3: *Smiles* I know, he's great isn't he...Nice one boss. *PC2 and 3 High five* PC4: ...Can I have a lolly pop now please PC2: *Hands over a Bag of mint humbugs* PC1: You sold a mans life for a bag of humbugs PC4: *Shrugs*...you killed 15 of my friends...I'd of done it for free but the Commander said he had to give me something... PC2: Right, The Courts will be open in...3 hours...the jury will take...30 inutes to get together...the case will take...1 hour and then 15 seconds for the Verdict...we'll probably have you on the block by...hmm...10 O'Clock, I'd offer you a last meal ...but...I really wouldn't waste a BAcon SAndwhich on you...See you on the chop Block *WInks and walks off with PC3 and 4, douses the candles on the way out* PC1:...*10 minutes later*...F*** GM: *Can't talk for laughing* PC2: *Points at the other Gang PCs and mouths 'You're next'* |
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a little back gorund on this one from a star wars game the PC is playing a nobel,who never knew his farther and he is helping jedi escape the purge when the pcs run into vadar.
Pc1: "You think he might be my daddy?" Pc2: "No,i definelty don't think so." Pc1: "You sure,I mean we can't even see his face." pc3: "Considering that he most likely plans to kill all of us,i seriously doubt he is your farther.' pc4: I think we better go before he notices us." pc1 *runs out of hiding place and stops 40 ft away from vadar* "Did you have any kids you aboned at a young age?" |
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So we are playing a 4E Dragonlance game tonight, and we've been exploring an ancient cursed temple in an ancient cursed valley. We enter one particular room where we get a vision of an evil priest killing the high priest with a dagger. In the room is the body of the man with the dagger still stuck in him. Our party Kender grabs the dagger, and asks what it does.
The GM replies "It is a +2 Poison Dagger" Other players "Yes, the dagger that was used to kill the high priest bringing the downfall of this temple and cursing the whole valley!" Kender "So it's a +2 Dagger?" |
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From last week in a one off I Cops game on a radiation wasted world where 96% or so of the former two billion plus population had been destroyed in a nuclear cataclysm years before. They were looking for ways to conjoin several ultra isolationist bands of high to medium high tech survivors with the usually badly mutated descendants of the lower tech survivors in the same area.
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Isshia |
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GM: She returns moments later with something brown and bubbling -- not champaign bubbles, but the sort you get when you mix dangerous chemicals. The cups also seem to have more brown things floating in them (DC 10 Will Save vs. Fear for the first one who tries to drink it. DC 8 for the dwarves).
Me: *I'll* drink it! :^D OOC: Nothing a kobold can drink'll put a dwarf under the table, bah! IC: Zhegre sniffs it, wrinkling his nose if it's unpleasant but willing to give a funny drink a shot. Knows about fire-fruit, but, hell, nothing a kobold can drink'll put a dwarf under the table! Ponders muttering a Purify Food and Drink. Pfeh. Sitting in a foreign bar is no time to show weakness of the gut. *QUAFF!* I rolled 1d20 + 8 and got 19. GM: The taste is an unholy combination of sour, bitter, and sweet, and it has a strange aftertaste to it that you can't place. It fizzes and whirls in your mouth in a distressing manner and makes your nose feels tingly. All in all, it's not bad. Me: OOC: Good heavens. It's Coca-Kobold. |
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Overheard at a Warhammer game on the table next to ours today:
"These aren't 'chop-chop' demons, they're 'shoot-shoot' demons." |
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After a character with magesight used it to see if the (very heavily bespelled) building we needed to break into had any magic on it:
"You just Detected Sound at a rock concert" |
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Scene: The party (which is a group of high-school-aged teens; having just left a Valentine’s Day dance at their favorite nightclub, the Sarnath) has been teleported to the moon. We are trapped in a crater that has an air generator. The party nerd (and singularly hideous and “disgusting”), Cranston, is examining the air generator. Cranston has two dice of unluck, and, in the three times he has been required to roll it, has scored 4 ones (this is Hero and that is bad). The air generator has already burst into flames and stopped working, forcing Izzy, the telekinetic to move it out of the air bubble to extinguish it. Cranston is now trying to fix it.
Cranston: I don’t even know what skills would be of use. Gummi (GM): Let me take a look at your character sheet. Cranston: (Handing sheet over) I have a lot of general science and electronics skills, I know how to use it, but I’m not sure if I know how to fix it. Me: Here, I’ll save us a whole bunch of time. Cranston, roll your unluck. Cranston: (Rolls snake-eyes.) Me: There, we don’t need to know what skills it’ll take, he’s just *bleeped* it up! Saved thirty minutes of game-time. Group: Uncontrollable laughter. Fortress: You’re going to have to buy that off. Cranston: Oh, no. I may get more unluck. Afterwards, when we’re at the (apparently) fascist moonbase, recovering: Cranston: “What’s wrong with me doc?” Group: Uncontrollable laughter MonkeyFist (ooc): “We don’t have time to go into that.” As we are getting arrested by the fascist moonbase police (me, apparently, for being in a coma); Cranston has previously developed a werewolf girlfriend (Julie) who is overly protective, she is who he was at the Valentine’s Dance with. She wolfed out which led to the party reacting to protect one of it’s own as the cops went to shoot her. As the situation slowly calms down: Cop: “What is that thing!” (Meaning Julie) MonkeyFist: “That’s our friend, Cranston!” Group: Uncontrollable laughter. After we expel the cops, MonkeyFist calls the American Embassy for advice (hey, we’re a bunch of kids); after explaining the situation: MonkeyFist: “We’re pretty sure, our lives are in danger now.” Ambassador: “Was the person they tried to shoot resisting arrest?” Group: Momentary pause. Group (in one voice): “No.” When I get my one phone call, I call the last person the GM expected. Me: Can I get an interplanetary operator? Gummi: Yeah. Me: Cool. Gummi (looking smug): Calling Ford? (Our School’s legal expert) Me: Nope. The Museum. (Wide smile; cheerful voice) “Hi Arikel, they tried to shoot Julie!” Gummi (looking pale): Urk?! Arikel is the Alpha Werewolf of the MegaDenver Werewolf pack. He’s . . . over-the-top protective, especially of the “pups.” He recently had a group of teen werewolves join the school. Julie was one of them. As we’re cleaning up, after the game: Cranston: I have a great name for our group: “International Incident!” |
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The GM needed to lay out some alleys on the battlemat, but drawing them out in marker would have taken longer than the expected fight scene. So instead, he grabbed a stack of square Budweiser coasters (one of the players used to manage a bar) and dealt them out at the appropriate distances. A player came in from a smoke break, looked at the mat, and commented "I see we're in the bar district."
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Gremlin (who is noted for wearing the skin of bandit humans she has slain): I have Leatherworking!
Robot: Not the kind of leather you want... |
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After a perlonged period of Star Trek jokes;
Me: We just had a close encounter of the nerd kind. Also: They may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom- cos were slaves, see? (In reference to an orphanage) Kick down the door, kill the monsters, and take their stuff! As Gm, talking as the BBEG: Now is the winter of our discontent... Biyatch. |
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Playing a detective:
Stop and/or I'll arrest you! |
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Following a werewolf attack on an isolated town, the party are looking for a doctor, when asked for his whereabouts, the town cleric points solemnly to a pile of corpses. The following conversation ensues;
B: Excuse me, we need some healing can you help? GM: Who are you asking? B: The Doctor. GM: Barnes, he's in the pile of corpses. B: What? is he busy? GM: ... no? B: I shout louder. GM: He doesn't answer, funnily enough. B: Is he deaf? GM: ... B: Oi! Doctor! you ignorant bastard! GM: Barnes? He.. is... in... the... corpses! B:... oh, he's dead then? GM: YES! B: Oh right, I thought he was after the fillings. |
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Another from today;
Me: Ok, your in town, what are you going to do? B: I'm going to the shop Me: Oh right in that case, were gonna break for a bit, how long do you need? B: For what? Me: To go to the shop... B:... Lyon, I meant IC... Me: ... oh. |
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But then, I have just watched the entirety of M*A*S*H, so perhaps my perspective is a bit skewed. |
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In a super-hero game; my daughter, Gamera Rose, plays a character with gravity-altering powers:
GAMERA: What can I do? I can make things light! ME: Well, you also have Rapier Wit with a Technique in Sarcasm. GAMERA: Oh, like that's going to be SO helpful. ME and another PLAYER simeltaneously: See? |
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Great quotes - they inspired me to create a Wiki to store them and other "war stories"...
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