So yeah, time to tell /tg/ about how my life got turned upside-down, and I drove the DM of a Mary Sue campaign to "He Mad" status.

So, long story short, a friend of mine has this forum I game with DnD on. He encourages people joining up and playing whatever, so long as you aren't a fucking retard or a jackass (And even if you are one, he'll generally let it slide provided you're amusing in some way.)

God help us all, the day that "Mr. Twiki" joined. Having started up his own "DnD campaign", I soon realized that this man had no concept of how to play DnD besides all the pretty stats, and was- instead- running a very loose freeform campaign with pretty numbers to justify what he did.

Whilst I could list the TERRIBLE things he did to DnD, I'll just sum it up in one fine example: A spellcaster could cast spells of level equivalent to their own. So a level 9 caster? Yeah, Balors and Shit. And the star PC (Who I have a strong inkling is his hambeast of a wife [Which I know because I saw the website she runs. She's an "author" that has several "Books" that I vomit when I look at].) was...my god.

I fucking remember reading that on sup/tg/.

More people should know, do it op.

I joined the campaign a few pages in, as a steampunk character. Because fuck yeah, steampunk, right? Well, realizing this was a joke after reading through, I named him Alphonse Kapown. Little did I realize the ramifications of this.

So when I originally got introduced (Randomly having been trapped in some weird magical mirror prison that was sealed with a puzzle. /Why/ he was in there is still a mystery to me, in lieu of him being assassinated), I was actually having a bit of fun. You know, trekking through these crazy ruins filled with broken pieces of Mechanika (As an Arcane Mechanic right out of Iron Kingdoms, the DM kind of went, OH MAN MAGICAL TECHNOLOGY? SO COOL! and incorporated it...for the worse, as I would find out). Blah blah blah, A Wild Dragon appears and eats one of the players, and...I get all giddy as Al Capone (I MEAN ALPHONSE KAPOWN) stumbles into a workshop laden with fancy tools.

Did I mention that one of the "feats" my character took was Craft Mechanika...and that steam-powered armor is a very legitimate item? I cackle giddily to myself as I get to work building armor while the rest of the party-

Stumbles into a magical portal randomly in the middle of a Japanese garden in the ancient steampunk laboratory? Aww, shit, this was where it began.

AH! Here we go...I found the website of the DM's hambeast wife (Also who will be referred to from here-on-out as "Dragon Girl" for very obvious reasons).

http://www.sajafutura.us/

Now, as you read what this woman has written in horror, I will explain to you the events that took place as I was whipping up my badass Iron Man suit with the intent of slaying the black dragon. Why would he hunt the WILD DRAGON? Because it swooped in, ate /all/ of the steampunk parts he had gathered by that point (Which he was carrying by lugging around an old wooden chest), and then swooped back out in less than a single round. No attacks of opportunity, nothing. Just "It flies in and eats everything you spent the last few days gathering, and X inactive PC".

Needless to say, I was slightly mad by this point, but decided to let shit slide. DM was otherwise chill, and he DID give me a workshop to build my armor in. So yeah, while I'm crafting my badass Iron Man suit, the rest of the party stumbles into a portal except for one other guy.

Who fell into a trap like a retard, and ended up getting "Saved by a shadowy figure basked in white light". Said PC was a werewolf (With a human "natural" form) at this point in the campaign. Needless to say, my "Oh Fuck No" meter is getting pretty high up there at this point.

So my guy finally finishes his armor, and I see the rest of the party has arrived in...Dah, Dah, Dah!

The Dragon Kingdom. A place so terrifying that EVERY SINGLE PERSON in it was a Dragon. A full-blooded Dragon, or a Half-Dragon, or SOME form of Dragon. Except the PCs.

Imminent rape expected, right? Wrong! Turns out the Dragon Kingdom is composed of Dragons of ALL colors, and ALL of the Dragons are good! Black dragons are Lawful Good. GREEN Dragons are Lawful Good. Chromatic and Metallic alike are la-de-da, loving, and completely accepting of the random PCs who just teleported not A MILE AWAY from their capital city (Which was apparently a bunch of closely-spaced super fortresses, one for each color of Dragon).

When I read this, my reaction can best be summed up as "Wut?". I mean, here the party was attacked by a dragon not SIX HOURS AGO, and suddenly they're being led in hand-in-hand by an entire nation composed of gigantic scaled behemoths whose best racial description is, "Don't piss them off if you value the lives of yourself and your loved ones".

If you think this is bad, it gets better.

So the PCs are taken into the Dragon Kingdom, given expensive clothing to fix up their attire, served hand-and-foot effectively by the Dragons...

And all the while, their wounded companion "At the brink of death" (With about 5 HP left) is operated on by the Dragons. What to they do?

They surgically implant scales along his body to "speed the healing process", artificially making him a half-dragon.

That's right. An artificially added Half-Dragon template. My bowels rose into my throat as I saw the Human-Werewolf-Half-Dragon gladly leap into his new, freakish existence. By this time, Alphonse Kapown had stumbled upon the magical portal, and was making last-minute preparations before jumping through to the "Great Unknown".

Dragon Girl enters at this point as the party gets introduced to the "King of the Dragons" and his daughter.

Dragon Girl.

My mind is filled with fuck at this point as HWHD (Which is a lot easier than writing "Human-Werewolf-Half-Dragon") begins to test out his new abilities.

Which include wingless flight (Basically flying around like Peter Fucking Pan the Furfag) and a fucking ridiculous fire breath attack (Like 19d6 the DM said, though at this point I had pretty much completely ignored the guise of DnD this game used).

So Alphonse Kapown arrives around the time the Dragon King and his PC daughter (Who, as I later found out with seething rage, was level 10 when we were all level 4. And had access to 9th level spells, as per the DM's "view" of magic in DnD. Oh, an Epic spells, too).

So when my guy arrives, the King divulges that they're in an epic war against the Human kingdom. Part of me is like, "FUCK YES! We're getting out of Mary Sue territory! Maybe."

The other part knows what's coming, and dreads it.

I remember this sad tale. Didn't realize it had been archived though.

"The Dark Empire", as the King of the Dragons divulges, is a species of "Foul, black-hearted humans" who use "Unnatural science" to fight the peace-loving Dragons after they arrived from "Another world" via an "Experiment gone awry".

I'm amazed my head didn't rocket off my shoulders as I read this bullshit, and my character- seeing the GIANT CITY of fucking dragons flying around and one of his former companions looking like goddamn Frankenstein as he flew around the air- heads for the hills at full steam.

Of course, the half-dragon sentries at the nearby castle see the man in steam-powered armor running away and alert Dragon Girl, who sends HWHD out to "Take out the Dark Empire spy!"

Because obviously, a spy is going to be wearing noisy powered armor.

Deep in enemy territory.

And be a human in a kingdom of dragons.

So after BARELY avoiding his homicidal ex-companion, he flees for the nearest signs of civilization, finding that the "Lost art" of Mechanika wasn't so lost. He makes his way in a fairly cool fashion around by fixing up farm equipment for people in exchange for board and food, and shit is actually pretty chill as he tries to make sense of all the insanity going on.

Campaign seems to have a faint glimmer of hope.

I was foolish for trying to follow that glimmer. Heading to the nearest city with the friendly directions of the farmers I helped, I arrive to find everybody ELSE walking around in powered armor. Which...isn't that bad, but I realized something.

Everybody else wearing powered armor is a goddamn Orc. No human soldiers. AT ALL.

I'm kind of cocking an eyebrow at this. Why the fuck would you give Orcs powered armor, especially since they're too goddamn stupid to otherwise operate it without being babysat?

So he eventually winds up at the cliche "Mayor's Home", which is really code for "Future Site of the Kapown Imperial Palace". See, I'm a tenacious motherfucker- if a DM wants me to suck the cocks of his Mary Sues, I fight back tooth and nail. And with steampunk?

Yeah, I stood a good chance against dragons, especially since- at that time- I was bringing some fellow fa/tg/uys into the fold. By the time I got to meet the mayor, "Party B" consisted of a Khorne Berserker, "Fullblade" the unholy close-hitter, and a "Mage" that had a keen interest in uncovering necromancy.

So, I meet the mayor. Or rather, the "Baron".

And find out his last name is Kapown.

He is my grandson.

At this point my brain reached "Fuck capacity". I mean, suddenly my guy has a grandson.

Who, after a bit of conversation, I easily find out is siding with the "Rebel Alliance". I tactfully decide not to commit infanticide at this point by NOT asking what else consists of this alliance (Because I know a goddamn railroad when I see the tracks closing in).

Instead, I smile, nod to my fatass of a grandson, and tell him I need a laboratory workspace. He graciously provides a secret lab underneath the city, which is stocked with some "Six thousand barrels of fuel" and a shitton of powered armor and a few "Mechanika Dragons".

Yes folks, that's right. Apparently the dragon that stole my stuff was, in fact, under the control of the Dark Emperor.

Because Dragons can't do anything wrong, right?

As Alphonse Kapown made his list of demands necessary, Baron-Grandson looked at me cockeyed. I wanted him to have the guards send down all of the piss from the latrines, all the lye from the kitchens, and all the silver they can spare.

>>13137105

Have you designed this circuit using Automation Studio?

"But we need the silver to pay for reparations after the war is over with!" Grandson-Faggot informs me.

The fucking little defeatist wanted to give the DRAGONS reparations after the Rebellion (Inevitably) succeeded! That sealed his fate in my eyes, and the scientist-grandfather simply nodded and smiled, "Of course," He appeased, "But any silver you can spare would be gladly appreciated!"

So I get a few silver bars, a couple thousand gallons of piss, and casks of lye. The DM is baffled at what I have planned, but I have the potters create massive rings of fired clay with fluted edges. The DM is still baffled, and I can only smile as my plan comes to a head.

The DM, seeing this, decides to intervene.

The Dark Emperor and his army appear on our front doorstep. As I found out before, Human warriors have been replaced by Orc mercenaries- which, naturally, are gigantic fuckups and inept money-guzzling power drains with advanced technology.

The "Baron", my fuckup of a grandson, pretty much demands we flee into the woods since we've- apparently- been discovered. Doubtlessly this had NOTHING to do with the fact that the Dragon Kingdom was, even now, preparing to march off for an invasion (With Dragon Girl and Party A serving as a "Scouting group").

Knowing rails to serving the Dragons when I see them, Alphonse Kapown grabs something from his work-bench before telling his grandson, the Baron, that they will not be fleeing. He tells him that he has developed something to win "The war", and- being the fat little motherfucker he is- my grandson decides that this means overthrowing the Dark Emperor and making peace with the cocksucking dragons.

Al will have none of this, and just tells him to have the army prepare to hold the line, where my buddies thoroughly assimilated into the game pretty much single-handedly win the battle. Why? Because the DM was wise to what I had in mind, and made all of the NPCs working for me retarded (As he later admits in the glorious finale).

At the time, however, he instead demands to know what I have planned to win the battle. I link him to this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silver_azide

Rage is had by the DM, but he eventually buckles under powerful browbeating on the fact that I was using real-world science to fight science.

The result? I invented Daisy Cutters in the quasi-medieval era. The massive battle was swiftly won with a minimum of losses on my own side (Though the DM decided to be a bitch regardless and have "random disasters" like chlorine gas randomly pop up in my city).

Yeah. My city. That object Alphonse Kapown grabbed from his workdesk? A hand-held harpoon launcher. For the greater good of mankind, he murdered his own grandson, shooting him in the back of the head.

He played it off as an assassin's work after the battle, using one of the countless dead enemy soldiers and trussing it up like a servant of the Baron. Being the "direct ascendant" of the deceased, he takes the Barony over, though the DM doesn't let me rule over anything more than the city itself. Which is alright.

Why? Because I have big plans.

I quickly set into motion, with malicious glee, a massive series of overhauls. The ridiculously massive stockpile of fuel is drudged up, suits of powered armor distributed amongst the militia and fierce training regimens enacted. Remembering the ancient facility he started off in, Alphonse leads an expedition there, and manages to loot a fair amount (And the place was, of course, in the Dragon Kingom- but he actually becomes a bit clever by this point. He takes samples of the drakeling-things they encounter in the wild).

The DM can only watch in horror as I calculate the total income of the city. That's right, gentlemen, I calculated- by hand- the total income and expenditures of an ENTIRE CITY, manually enacted cost-effective rationing laws that STILL made it possible for peasant's to each get three square meals of wine and cheese a day, and came out with over 100,000 GP income a month.

The DM's facade of trying to reign me back in finally cracked when, as massive factories for powered armor and rifles and ammunition were being erected, I detailed to him exactly how I intended to create Dark Matter.

See, the DM had me encounter this crazy inventor when I became the Baron. Basically the guy invented a device that could open a planar "portal". He doubtlessly meant for it to be discovered by the "scouting group" now closing in on my city.

I instead used it to recreate the Planar Engine from the Airships book. Which is basically an antimatter reactor that works by combining motes of matter from the Positive and Negative planes and harnessing the result.

The Dragon Kingdom's scouting party WALKS into the fucking city. An anthromorphic dragon girl, a fucking werewolf with dragon scale, and odd-man-out a regular human. By this point, Dragon Girl and Half-Dragon-Werewolf-Man had become "lovers" after a "wild night of passion".

Yeah. Furfaggotry abounds.

And, of course, this scout party discovered "by chance" the crazy inventor's house and his mad scrawlings. They deciphered from this that he was building that portal kerjigger, and JUST how it worked.

How a bunch of fucking Dragons can understand the "evil science" of Humans is beyond me. But fuck it, I had grabbed this campaign by the testicles with steampunk, and it was time I made my point clear to the Dragons about JUST what I had in mind for their bullshit.

So when my right-hand man, Fullblade, bumped into the party he quickly called for the city guard. A dozen HUMANS in powered armor quickly showed up, armed with delicious rifles (With ACTUAL rifling).

Baron Alphonse Kapown meets the "race-traitors" and their "harlot leader" in the city's main Inn. Why? Because not only does it provide an informal atmosphere, but it drags them across the city, letting them see the massive factories being built, letting them see the schools that HE had built with HIS science to teach orphan children from the battle, to show them that mankind does not NEED the help of these scaled sons of bitches to prosper, contrary to what so many people think. Undead laborers made it possible for the still-living citizens to have lives of luxury, former hovels and mud-huts being converted into homes and even a smattering of mansions.

At this point, Party B is gathered together, and I can't help but smile at how I had made my team claw its way up from the very pits of "Mary Sue stepping stones" to actual, physical threats.

Party A:
Dragon Girl, a Bronze Dragon in "Human" form with access to Epic-level spells and "custom-made" 9th level and below magic.
Human-Werewolf-Half-Dragon, with the power of wingless flight and super fire breath and, TA-DA, the hand-to-hand skills only a Monk can wield.
An "Elf Princess" that, though she started out as my ally, her PC dropped out due to real-life issues. The DM quickly made her part of "Party A".
And four "regular" Dragons that would provide escorts to the group.

Party B? We were self-made gods of men!
Myself, Alphonse Kapown: Steampunk scientist who was wearing a suit of badass powered armor, which he had constantly upgraded to that point, including a pistol and that magical portal-making device he was working on modifying at the time.
Fullblade: A Fighter that I also equipped in powered armor...but with a TWEEST! I invented a rocket launcher for him. A wrist-mounted rocket launcher, which he wielded in addition to his Fullblade (Which I remade into something akin to the Super-Sledge from Fallout, only with a vibrating edge in place of PNEUMATIC ACTION!). I had also incorporated organs from dragons we slew, granting him fucking ridiculous regenerative abilities.
Khrone Berserker: He was a mutated son of a bitch, and my god could he rip and tear with the best of them. He actually destroyed his Drow servants when they failed to bring him skulls to ornament himself with.
The Mage: Basically a necromancer by this point, I equipped his bony ass with a special version of powered armor that let him manifest his spells through his two apprentices, as well as amplifying the effects of his spell (Basically utilizing Rune Plates from Iron Kingdoms to make his entire suit FILTHY RICH with magic).

When they walked in, I knew they were had from the moment they entered. The DM knew it too- I was too devious a bastard NOT to have a dozen backup plans in place (Really, I didn't have THAT many, but I had already known how the battle would pan out).

The "talk" goes about as well as expected. The Dragonfags basically all chant, "You're evil! You just want to rule!"

Which is true- Alphonse Kapown was a man who saw that his people had become too stupid to rule themselves. He was the only one with intellect and knowledge enough to save a culture that, thanks to the Dark Emperor (Who somehow survived the Daisy Cutter bombardment, surprise surprise), was essentially swirling down the shitter.

He keeps his cool throughout this until Dragon Girl says the stupidest thing she possibly can.

"You're just making your people miserable! I have one million gold in my Bag of Holding here, a gift from my father. Please, if not for your own sake, then for the sake of your people!"

Alphonse Kapown, with the fury of a small god, rises from his seat.

And bitchslaps Dragon Girl right across the face.

The STR contest was, needless to say, horribly skewed in her favor. But it was the effect of the action- Alphonse losing his cool, his weathered face rife with anger as he screamed at the princess before him.

"Miserable? Miserable, you stupid cunt?! I am the only person here who has worked to /help/ my race! I am not my grandson, who would bend my race to your draconian whims! I am a Human, and I- like any strong man- would rather suffer famine, war, and illness than being your slave but for /one day/!"

The respective parties gear up for battle as Alphonse continues, Fullblade readying his rocket launcher for close-range rape as Khorne Boy starts working up a froth.

"I have persevered through ignorance! I have fought against the yoke your kind would put upon us all in the name of some mockery of 'happiness'! And now you come here, after I have built us up from ashes, seeking to try and buy your way into the hearts of my people?"

He then spits in her face, "This is what I think of your generosity, whore!"

DM goes critical rage at this point, and declares that the Dragons change shape into their full form, causing the roof of the Inn to fly off. He also declares that the Elf princess produces a copy of the portal device and says,

"I know what I must do to stop this tyrant!"

Dragon Princess and her lover-toy fly off into the air as the Elf, without so much as a single reaction roll or anything, smashes the device into the floor of the Inn.

Blowing all of Party B to smitherines in a "mushroom cloud of magic". Party A escapes unscathed from the ruins of the city.

DM then posts a bitchfit of a thread saying that Several players have been removed from the DAM RPG. The story line they are wanting to follow and have been allowed to follow is not a line of this particular story that I can pursue any longer. It is not what I was prepared to DM in this story nor is it what I am willing to continue with. I hope all the players that have been dropped understand this and find other games in which the characters they wish to pursue will fit better."

And then he has the thread locked.

I do not stand for this shit. My friend, who is the admin of the forum, unlocks the thread on my behalf. Being a fellow fa/tg/uy, said admin- upon hearing this tale- "Unlock on account of LOL!"

I truly wish I could present to you the full glory of the shitstorm that followed. I told him every awful rip I had been holding back- Everything from jokes about his wife the "White Whale", to the fact that HE had allowed things to reach this point.

The result? He tells me he's going to hunt me down and "tear out your throat and shit down your neck".

I cackle and post a quick "U Mad?" image.

His rage only magnifies.

Oh, no, I didn't get GM raped. See, even if I lost the battle, I won the war.

How?

I opened a conversation with this guy on MSN, and invited the Head Admin- my buddy- to the chat.

I brought up the death threat he made on me, and provided a screencap. The admin, who doesn't really give a shit, was just going to give him a warning not to do that sort of stuff again on the forum (Terms of Service for the host more than him actually caring).

The DM, thinking he's going to be in deep shit, goes full-on rant mode.

"the [Game I just got booted from] is made up fantasy.. JUST like the "rule" books you refer too... it is all the exact same thing - a bunch of made up BS concocted by people with too much imagination and not enough life. Have fun in a different game."

The head admin is an AVID fan of 3.5.

He reads this, deletes what he says. His neckbeard isn't quite fa/tg/uy worthy, but this guy basically just said that DnD was pretty much a worthless pile of bullshit, even though it's a pretty goddamn big business.

I simply sit back as the head admin, realizing JUST how much of a flaming faggot this guy really is, tears his ass in half.

DM posts a "I am seeking greener pastures" post the next morning.

His game dies with the hero Alphonse Kapown.

>>13137148

NI Multisim actually. And since you asked, here's another one: this will let you control any serial device from an android phone.

>>13137231

I'll give it a try

Keep fucking posting I want MOAR

>>13137292

Sadly that is the end of the tale.

I love stories like these.

One PC fed up with the DM's bullshit decides to undermine the entire world.

It's like working under God's nose if God were a blithering furfag.

Glad it was reposted then, this is actually on the suptg archive but you will not find it if you search for Alphonse Kapown or anything like that.

Since it's story time, I offer you the tale of oscar: destroyer of sues.

That is sad it could have ended much better but judging from the website his gf put up I can only imagine the douchery of that guy, I would set my head on fire and chop my balls off b4 coming within a 5 mile radius of that crazy cow

>>13137357
So, /tg/, one of my favorite things to do is to go on yahoo groups, find some small yet active RPG (Vampire or Star Trek usually, best results) and I'll proceed to roleplay a stoner.

Now, this all began two years ago with a friend of mine, who was a GM in a post-by-post Vampire RPG. Long story short, this game he's involved in gets taken over by second generations and faggoty time-shifting vampires. My friend, who is a GM but not the owner, cannot get these kids banned. It's free-form after all, and that's within the world. So, my friend begs me to join, telling me I can basically do whatever I want, as long as I try to ACT serious. So, being completely high as fuck at the time, I made up a character who was a complete human, first of all, and who smoked weed named Oscar. Not just any weed, however. The weed that God mentioned in the Bible. This weed made me immune to vampires. They could still burn down my house and stuff, I suppose, but vampires couldn't just fuck me up. Now, I never abused this. I acted like a stoner, sitting around in my underwear while I watched Discovery Channel, went out for Pizza Hut, and not paying much attention when other PCs would continually try and discuss things with me. I even kept the weed mostly to myself, only giving it to other people when they stopped by, wherein I would try to smoke them out.

>>13137368
Now, I did this as a joke, but the rage that was produced was epic. These guys that had pumped dozens of hours into their back stories (one guy named Crimson's background was 300 pages. No joke.) were suddenly being upstaged by a stupid stoner, who literally had a five-sentence background. I didn't mean to, but these ultra-powerful guys weren't very interesting conversationalists. When you would say, "Man, it'd be cool if I had some money," they'd freeze time and get it for you, just to show you how AWESOME they were. Suddenly I had these vampire princes showing up to my one-room apartment I had in the vampire world to discuss matters of affair with me and everything. It was awesome. Well, the game ended not even a month later. In mass protest of my stoner, the vampires (and one angel, one half-demon and one wererat/mummy) left the game all at once one day. The game ran for about another week or two, but we could tell that the game was pretty much dead then.

Ever since then, I've gone around the internet to various horrible post-by-post RPGs, bringing with me Oscar. Guys who will ignore a power gamer or obvious flamer will fall to Oscar. When someone can hear about the destruction of the world and say "That's cool, let's get stoned motherfucker," that will blow their minds with blinding rage.

>>13137357
Yes please! Also, someone archive this under al kapown so it's easy for the new 'uns to find.

>>13137374
Oscar's been in a few different sort of games. One time I was on the USS Revolution, a ship that was exploring...some fuck-off part of space in the Star Trek universe. I join the ship when they find me on a small stalled cargo ship, and they tractor me in. With some quick talking on my part, I get them to stay away from my personal quarters in the ship, citing that I'm religious and my room is my temple. Good for me, because all here is in there is a cot, lights, and plants plants plants. Anyhow, I happily show them the rest of my cargo, which consists of a lot of biological equipment, a nice personal food-maker thing, and lots of seeds. They don't have a biological member of their crew, so they invite me on.

Long story short, they live to regret it. The GM one day decides that I've studied weed enough to make a techno-weed (I STILL don't know how that works, but it has to do with alien bacteria in the THC) and I end up getting the ship's A.I. completely ripped via holographic projection. Then, to make things completely inappropriate and as a coup de gras, I end up having sex with the ship. Sorta. The captain of the ship (Sonja Everwood) ended up kicking me off the ship when she realized I had asked the ship to holographically recreate the image of the captain during our "session".

In the end, the crew of the ship snuck me back on, and I ended up getting blazed in space until the captain quit in a fury, leaving post about how her crew abandoned her for a stoner.

>>13137379
Oscar had just entered Tokyo early one morning as I joined a Sailor Moon RPG. Basically, the person who ran the game was wary of my character at first, but I assured her that Oscar would eventually amount to more than a pot smoking loser. I had plans for him.

The game went pretty good. The best session I had in my month and a half is when I spent a good two hours roleplaying with the people who played Sailor Moon and Sailor Jupiter. I convinced them that when the world went all Neo-Tokyo and shit, they should keep me around as an adviser. They agreed, as I passed the blunt to them, and then I was in like flint. I spent the rest of my time there making fun of the guy who played Tuxedo Mask, smoking out Sailor Senshi and bad guys alike, and eventually getting kicked out when I broke the cardinal rule, no sex in the game. (Which was weird. 18+, no sex.)

Now, just a quick interjection. I mentioned sex in the last story too. In NO WAY do I aim for awkward sex scenes, but aparrently the females who play these games have nothing to pound their snatches to except my awkward descriptions of Oscar prematurely ejaculating (for the lulz) and smoking joints during sex. Really, some of these chicks have got to get laid. And that's coming from me, a guy who giggles at trolling RPGs.

Anyhow, I end up having sex with Sailor Moon. Score. The GM exploded when she agreed to go down on my 420, if you know what I mean, and she kicked me out, barring the game to new players.

BTW, the plot of the game later continued with Oscar's influence without him being there. Sailor Moon announced later in the game that the child was mine, a couple of the Senshi kept toking up, and even more shenanigans. The ezboards account, so lovingly paid for, is barren and desolate today.

>>13137383
Anyhow, latest story has to do with D&D 3.0.

The setting was Ravenloft, and the characters were all sorts of heroes summoned from around their worlds for a dark purpose. Or, whatever. Now, the DM had his own Ravenloft campaign in mind, apparently stemming heavily from Loecraft. (Giant tentacles in the sky, being driven mad, etc.) Everyone is level seven in the game, even Oscar. He's a level 7 commoner.

Now, I made the oop vow when I joined that I would be the longest living character, but I never would have DREAMED that it would come through quite the way it did. We came up to a fountain deep in the first dungeon, for example, and the party begins to discuss what to do as I toke up. Now, there's an undead guy in the group, and he's getting fed up that I've been snacking and hiding from the undead we've been fighting, so he demands I taste the water first. He's a cleric, and he can rez me. I look skeptically at the water, which the DM describes as "curiously opaque." I take a drink, and it refills my health. Undead quickly pushes me aside and takes a big drink, because he's hurt bad, and explodes into flame. Looks like holy water from a long dead god still works on you, motherfucker.

The only real good other highpoint in the game was near the end. The necromancer turned out to be the miller, and so a big showdown happens in the flour mill, culminating with a me running upstairs to get out of the way of the necromancer, who has started to turn into a huge tentacled blob, a la G-Virus. Anyhow, I'm on the third floor, and I'm watching the carnage curiously over the edge as I light my blunt with a torch. I look down the the big tentacled monster smashing open flour sacks everywhere, and I get an idea. "Hey, so, there's dust everywhere downstairs, right?"

>>13137386
"Yeah."

Yeah, that boss battle was cut short once people realize what happens when you drop a torch into a room full of choking flour powder. Sure, I may have accidentally killed one or two party members who couldn't make it up the stairs, but I was high. Sue me. The other players really didn't find the fact that they couldn't roleplay the end of the game annoying, but I'm sure they did when I accepted all praise and said to the NPCs that I couldn't recall anyone else's name, but I might tomorrow, certainly. If they had been a help, I didn't really recall. If it's one thing that makes D&D people angry, it's other PCs not remembering their PCs in big tearful scenes.

There was one part where Oscar got turned into a chick by a curse in the very same game. I think they were expecting some big scene, but all I did was take another drag, look down into the pants, exhale, and then say "Well that's a whole new set of problems, isn't it." and went back to my pork sandwich and flat beer.

>>13137392
I guess I'll tell the tale of Oscar in Werewolf. Really, it's horrible and sad for everyone involved, which makes it a good story to me.

So, I join the game as a normal human in this game of werewolves. Time-traveling must be a common cheesy thing for WoD people to do, because there was at least 3 time shifters, each of course cheesier than the last. The game was formed on the basis of a new werewolf tribe, or maybe it was a lost one or something, but I was basically the human world go-between. I ran food to these people for profit, and for a while I actually enjoyed myself for a whole running groceries while everyone else dealt with spiral faggots and big Wyrm penises or whatever. Then, the night came.

The leader of the tribe was a female werewolf named Shavina. She was always friendly with my character, but on night she made an announcement that she was looking for a mate. Remembering during some of our conversations comments to the extent of "you'd make good breeding stock" send hairs prickling all over my body.

Sure enough, a couple of nights later she IMs me asking if we could do some private roleplaying. I agree with reluctance, and Shavina and Oscar end up taking a stroll in the woods while the quarter moon is in the sky. She starts getting real personal with the talkin', and Oscar just pretty much ignores all of her advances until suddenly she pushes me against a tree.

"Take me." She says, with a small smile.

"Yeah, about that..." I said with as much hesitation I could manage. "See, the thing is that you're a werewolf...and that's kinda creepy."

>>13137397
She was silent for a minute. "Creepy how?"

"Well. No offense, but I don't know how werewolves work. What if you freak out and tear my dick off, or if I contract werewolf AIDS or something?" I pried her hands off me firmly, yet gently. "I think it's better if we just stay friends."

Really, she may have been fine with that, but Oscar went and vomited after the whole exchange at the mere idea of sleeping with her.

From then on, the game got REALLY weird. Shavina was apparently outraged that I had scorned her advancements, going so far as to try to get me hunted down by the end of it all. Eventually, a couple of the other members of the tribe started to see that she was going crazy. Since I was basically the only PC that did any human stuff, the tribe started losing precious commodities. A lot of people never asks who pays the power bill until it goes out for example. Eventually, once I left shortly after the attempted assassination, the other members of the tribe began filtering out. Turns out that they had been uncomfortable about avoiding me, and being told to kill me in a ritualistic hunting style made people realize that perhaps their leader had lost touch with reality.

end

The awesomeness is perposterous oscar is an awesome character that I can totally relate to, I have some friends that roleplay and I think I might borrow the character idea

archived.

Any more storytiem?

>>13137459

I'm sure someone can drag up Wasteland Warrior's stories. Or maybe that one about spell jammers and tarasques.

>>13137493
>spelljammers and tarrasques

What is this masterpiece I have not heard of?

>>13137493

WW's stories are all properly archived and rated already, the intention here is to save that which isn't sa-

Spelljammers and Tarrasques? That sounds more boss than Cadillacs and Dinosaurs.

STORY NAO PLOX!

Moar please

here's the original
proceeding to copypasta dump

EVIL ELECTRICAL ENGINEER DEMANDS MOAR.

Most awesome thing I've done recently (in a thread re-railing attempt)?

Well, I played an elderly wizard in a high-level game recently. His "character idea"? He was a spellcaster undergoing a midlife crisis and he was ronery and alone fom a lifetime of studying musty old tomes.

So he ended up buying a COLOSSAL airship (One hundred tons), hiring himself a crew, making said crew neigh-invulnerable with some bullshit spells (Hide Life in particular), and then becoming the scourge of the land, sky, and sea.

By the middle of the campaign, he had made himself a mobile fortress, and vowed to hunt down Tarrasque so that "Nobody would ever forget me again!".

He ended up getting just what he wished for in a way even HE didn't expect: Whilst he was aiding the PCs in building themselves an uberfortress (Combination of an artifact that allowed Epic Teleport at-will and a massive army of imps he summoned and permanently bound for them), they went on a standard raid on some distant fortress.

After some standard monster hunting, we end up running into a Lich. A high-level Lich. Somehow, through an epic roll, the party barbarian intimidates a fucking LICH into becoming a sniveling coward. Lich declares that though they may kill him, his patron is a much worse being to deal with.

Midlife Crisis Wizard asks who the fuck his patron was, expecting some archdemon or devil or something.

Fucking Tarrasque. Turns out that Smartass McWizard here fucking AWAKENED TARRASQUE. On top of that, after a few more threats and some firm knocks on his phylarcy, he admits that he did more than make THE most dangerous creature in the univers sentient.

He trained him in wizardly spells. Well, FUCK, turns out Tarrasque is now packing levels in fucking WIZARD. I'm fucking applying my palm directly to my forehead at this point.

More below.

>>13137554
Now, we continue adventuring, and I make my airship more kickass as the rest of the party works on our uberfortress. We add some kickass Tesla-style cannons to the battlements, get a freaking moat of pure lava straight from the Plane of Fire (With Elder Fire Elementals we buffed up inhabiting the moat), and somehow manage to get enough people in our fortress that it becomes a sort of United Nations meeting spot for people to peacefully discuss things.

This place has the WORKS. Ghosts bound to patrol against ethereal invaders, specially-made golems monitoring a series of scrying windows (effectively a security camera system), and a cadre of about thirty-odd spellcasters of 8th to 12th level constantly toiling away to help reinforce and add onto what is currently being built. Magic weapons are commonplace in the armory, and the guards are all elite soldiers drilled to fight everything ranging from savage goblins to horrific illthids (All of which we captured specimens of, or simply teleported into our bestiary).

Things are looking pretty fucking sweet, but we know what's going to happen. Tarrasque the Wizard is still out there, and fuck if we know what he's got planned. Whilst we have comprehensive defenses, we can't monitor everywhere at once. He could very well be in his own little demiplane, conjuring legion after legion of monsters, or crafting enough golems to swarm us. But we continue to prepare, even going so far as to import three or four dragons (at extravagant expense, but what do we care) to reside as a permanent supplement to my airship patrols. Dragons, after all, are much more agile than my 100 ton "Kick Your Ass' ship.

Then it happens.

>>13137560
Yep. Tarrasque appears. And even worse, he's called in a FUCKTON of soldiers to aid him in what can only be described as, "Bowser gets smart, decides to use all his troops to take over the kingdom rather than nab a single princess". His lich "follower" is pretty much left to rot as Tarrasque the Wizard ends up unleashing some heavy duty magic on our asses.

Now, we expected a fair number of troops on his side, but we forgot something important: Tarrasque was fucking Tarrasque, and if you add magic into the mix, you're just /inviting/ trouble.He had apparently made some friends in the Abyss (the very same sort of people we tended to piss off in our numerous adventures), and- as we were to later discover- he had indeed used the Genesis spell to create his own little demiplane.

One where he had created a continuous Time Stop-esque effect, slowing the passage of time outside enough to allowing him to amass enough golems and monsters to actually stand a good chance against us. And by "good chance" I mean he had something on par with the giant army from the LOTR movies.

And we didn't have a Gandalf to save our asses. Fuck.

It was at this point that we're shitting a gothic cathedral, staring at the troop numbers of what he had prepared (Effectively having enlisted most of the Archfiends and a good number of horrifically evil demons to monster mash it up). Hell, he even had an entire PLATOON of Adamantium Golems that just shrugged off direct hits from the Blast Disk field we had set up around our castle perimeter. He was just holding back at the rear of the army, hi-fiving the other archfiends as the rest of this horrible army began to charge at our front wall.

Up above, the airship I had spent all campaign preparing was finally put to good use. Thunderstone-tipped bombs knocked holes in the advancing horde, arcane rockets (Effectively maximized fireball spells) sailing into the mass of golems, demons, mercenaries, and other creatures below. More than a few Vrocks attempted to attack the airship, but a few well-placed Mass Earthbound spells made sure the worst of them were pinned below and the rest left at the mercy of repeating crossbows.

The battle raged in front of the giant lava moat, the Adamantium Golems making a solid battering ram of fists as they began to bore through the walls, monsters following behind them as- up above- permanent Walls of Force protected the troops from demonic siege munitions. Mostly.

It was at this point that we whipped out everything we had: Ranging from artifact weapons that could make a man's flesh into solid adamantium to a fully-functioning Repeating Cannon of Magic Missile (Basically a magical gatling gun).

Blood ran so thick, the magic so suffused with magic, that blood golems actually formed in the middle of the melee and attacked both sides. We knew that it was only about to get worse: Tarrasque was beginning to move towards the fray, having torn off one of the defensive towers and used it as a makeshift baseball bat, which he intended to use as a mallet on one of our party members currently holding off a pair of Pit Fiends in a duel.

>>13137570
And that's when the S.S. Kick Your Ass came to the rescue. Having poured all of MY money into the airship, it was naturally the most badass thing to ever sail the skies. A solid diamond hull, over thirty omnidirectional fireball turrets to hit any one target, and each crewman had been specially enchanted with Hide Life (Which basically made them a living lich, which could continue to function beyond -10 HP. Never age, never die, just keep getting injured and chugging on).

But that wasn't the REAL masterpiece here. It was the anchors, which I had built with Tarrasque specifically in mind. Why? Because each anchor weighed somewhere on par with twenty thousand pounds, held specially suspended by a Reverse Gravity spell carefully regulated.

And was solid adamantium.

With a cry of, "Drop anchor!" the airship swooped in on Tarrasque, four ten-ton anchors made from solid adamantium crashing into his insanely massive bulk. Even with all of his contingency spells, they barely made a dent on the chains as they impaled the beast.

"Full steam ahead!"

The engines, a clever recreation of antimatter by mixing negative and positive energy, reached full blast.

150 MPH in a single round. 1800ft per round.

We were pulling four gees in under six seconds, Tarrasque dragged along for the ride.

*The air suffused with magic. Hurried fingers do the devil's work...

Moving at near-escape-velocity, this one-hundred-ton behemoth began to ferry the sentient Tarrasque away from the battle, the gigantic chains- intended to stop the massive vessel dead in its tracks- beginning to bend and warp under a constant barrage of Disintegrate and Lightning Bolt spells (All, of course, Maximized and Quickened). Several crewmen were vaporized as the shocks traveled up the chains, but still the airship plowed on, sending the gigantic beast tumbling through defensive wall after defensive wall, crushing countless thousands of its own troops as it thrashed for a grip

It found one.

Grabbing onto one of the walls, it held onto the chains hooking it with a feral smile on its face. Yanking firmly, the entire airship suddenly halted. It had the two things it needed now: The support of the wall and the unbreakable lever of the chains. Watching with horror, my wizard felt a sudden tearing motion as Tarrasque began to pull the airship closer. In my foolishness, I had made sure the chains were completely anchored to the very core of the airship so as to prevent Tarrasque from breaking away too early.

Yet now it was beginning to haul me closer, its giant claws bringing me countless feet towards the ground with each mighty tug. I was not going to get out of this, I knew. Even as I had the engine at full burst, the giant monster still had an insane amount of strength to counteract the engines, the hordes at its feet crawling up its body and onto the giant metal links of the chain, heedless of risk as they attempted to try and reach the airship held captive.

>>13137577
It was at this point that the party sprung into action. Calling in a few favors from our celestial contacts, the party Cleric did what could only be considered the impossible.

He tore open a hole straight to Heaven. And down they came, with an immaculate chorus, celestial beings of every make and type. Ranging from Devas that clove Vrocks apart midair, to even the puniest Lantern Archon that seared rank upon rank of Imp with holy light. The party Barbarian, mentioned earlier, entered his greatest Frenzy yet, inspiring an entire platoon of our heavy infantry to charge heedlessly into the enemy ranks, taking wounds that would fell a mortal man without even blinking.

We were gods of battle, and heaven and hell waged their war around our knees. Tarrasque gave a mighty heave as the airship almost came within striking range of those deadly claws, but it soon became apparent what his intent was.

>>13137584
Grabbing the solid mithral tower he had clutched earlier, Tarrasque released his grasp of the wall, ramming a stake through the heart of our vessel. A hole rent straight through the diamond armor, taking out several of the munitions bays in the process. Secondary explosions began to gut the vessel as our celestial reinforcements began to falter, the Archfiends entering the fray with Tarrasque at this point. Demonic lashes took out score after score of the divine beings, leaving only undead and fatal amounts of negative energy in their wake. The raw amounts of death these beings radiated were enough to kill mortals and reanimate the dead.

Despite our Cleric's glorious efforts, the battle seemed sure to be won by Tarrasque and his forces. My airship was dying, deck after deck going up in flames as the fire suppression system (A sentient water elemental that constantly funneled the ship's water tanks to the necessary areas) was overwhelmed.

This was it. The end of our fortress, our preparation incapable of holding off the tides of Tarrasque, the Slayer of Adventurers, Archmage of the highest power.

>>13137587
It was at this point, watching as his pride and joy was slowly destroyed by a mirth-riddled Tarrasque, that he finally said, "Enough of this bullshit."

With a fearsome bellow, he grabbed ahold of the helm of his vessel, struggling at the controls as flames continued to rip through the countless decks. Crewmen continued to work even as their flesh boiled, their loyalty to "The Cap'n" driving them to labor through the pain. At his direction, the airship's "force fields" (Enchanted keyholes throughout the vessel, each one linked to a Wall of Force in that section of the ship) were all activated except along one route, every munitions not yet destroyed by the flames armed and rolled out into that central path.

My wizard knew what had to be done. Grinning below, he kicked the control wheel forward, the entire airship beginning to dip forward, the metal chains ripping the hull further as Tarrasque was given a direct view of the airship's bridge.

Opening its maw wide, it complemented the wizard on his willingness to stare death in the eyes, even as hordes of monsters began to infest the ship. Drawing his hands together, the wizard prepared one final spell, the battle-ender he had been saving for this entire time.

His last command echoed throughout the vessel, his crewmen each obeying with stern faces and firm resolve. Even as abomination after abomination tore into them, rending limb from limb, they awaited that order. The order to bring them into everlasting glory.

>>13137590
"Fire all torpedoes!"

And with that, the crewmen obeyed, arming triggers pulled on each rocket, the munitions remaining in the vessel all going off. The walls of force funneled the blast, even as the crewmen in the path of the explosion were instantly atomized by the sheer weight of the flames. Those not in the immediate path of the flames accepted their fate: For even as the flames quickly killed those directly in their path, those throughout the rest of the ship were flash-boiled by the heat alone. They would have to live through this agony, the enchantment upon them forcing them to endure the agony of having organs boil without the release of death.

The wizard simply smiled as the engines of his ship detonated, the planar engine going critical as the detonated munitions funneled the entirety of the energy directly out of the vessel's flankes. The entire rear half of the ship exploded, the front half- including the bridge- becoming a one-hundred-ton bullet aimed straight for the exposed mouth of Tarrasque the Wizard.

>>13137596
The airship buried itself into the warded mouth of the monster, the sheer number of contingency spells flashing into life, shearing what was left of the airship into tatters as all manner of defensive enchantments attempted to protect Tarrasque from the fate it was doomed to endure.

But even as Maximized Disintegrate after Maximized Disintegrate tore through the bridge, as Chain Lightning and Fireball seared his flesh, the wizard did not relent. His comrades in arms for all these years watched as his airship railed into Tarrasque's yapping mouth, the creature possessing a momentary look of panic before screaming.

Then a mushroom cloud of raw astral energy erupted out of the top of its skull, its brains raining down on the army below as the equivalent of an antimatter bomb went off in its skull, tearing through the (slightly soft) flesh of its upper jaw and into the massive brain.

The wizard's words echoed throughout the field, "I wish that..."

The entire battle seemingly paused, the fighting subsiding considerably as Tarrasque tottered, its body swaying back and forth as it frantically tried to regenerate what was lost.

"Tarrasque dies, the world goes back to normal."

>>13137600

Holy cookies.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2tSflzFLGQA

>>13137459
You want storytiem? I give you STORYTIEM.
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/8483458/
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/10032392/
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/11995407/

>>13137600

You need to turn this into a movie.