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    27 KB Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)03:39 No.16222803  
    Good evening, /tg/.

    I was going through some boxes the other day, when I found several of my old RPG core books for various systems. It got me thinking about the old days, when I actually had a group to game with, and the weirdness we used to get up to. I’m feeling nostalgic, so I thought I might take a trip down memory lane and invite you along for tea and biscuits. There may even be cake, but don’t count on it.

    As I’m feeling generous, /tg/, I’ll give you the choice – should I talk about my experiences in 2nd Edition, 3rd Edition, or stupid LARPing stories?
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)03:41 No.16222814
    Larp stories are allways good
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:42 No.16222823
    All right, then. Live Action stuff.

    Now, in my career as a gamer, I’ve been invited to a few games of varying types, and have done my level best to give each of them a chance (provided they weren’t adult in nature – not my thing, there). Being invited to a LARP or two just kinda falls in with that pattern. So let me tell you about the two I went to, starting in chronological order and working from there.

    I have no idea if it’s still around anymore, but about a decade or so ago, there was a fantasy-themed LARP in shiny northern California called Adventures Unlimited. For those who have gone to LARPs before, it was your standard fare – boffer weapons, people in ‘chainmail’-patterned shirts next to guys in full suits of steel plate, fancy facepaints and fake ears – the works.

    Now, I’d originally decided to come to this game for the sole reason that several members of my gaming group also went, and they said I might have some fun. After all, I liked D&D, and enjoyed going to the local Ren Faire, so this might at least be interesting to see if not participate in. So, in the spirit of at least giving it a try, I agreed to go.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:43 No.16222831
    My first impression, I must be honest, was rather…less than charitable. I was kinda grumpy from being tired, having been unexpectedly called in to man the closing-shift at work the night before, meaning I then had to figure out how to pack for a three-day camping trip far later than I would have preferred. My attitude didn’t improve much when I saw some of the players, already dressed out for the event, in outfits that would’ve offended the sense of style in a grade-school production manager, carrying around foam ‘swords’ that looked more like funoodles someone had oil-painted. Anyway, we parked the car, unloaded our gear, found a spot away from the main ‘combat’ area of the site to set up our tents, arranged everything, got dressed out, and headed down for the pre-game meeting and rules-recital. I’m told I can either be an NPC and play whatever they need me to be for the event, or I could sit down with some of the staff and make a PC. As this was my first time, and being a PC would require I pay the site fee ($25, as opposed to $0 for being an NPC), I wisely declined the offer.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:44 No.16222839
    So, feeling rather silly, I got handed a boffer, someone passes me a shield, I throw on some ratty ‘hide’ outfit, get my face painted green, and get sent out to be an orc with a group of more experienced NPCs, who decide to give me a bit of training in just how combat works, seeing as we have an hour or so before our invasion-event was supposed to occur.

    So, I take a fighting stance, shield raised, sword held up…and am quickly given some helpful tips on stance and grip, so as not to make too much a fool of myself. Anyway, I square up again, feeling extremely silly, face off against my opponent, swing my sword –


    Okay, so not really. But I did rather quickly start to get into the swing of things, and actually had a lot of fun with the combat side of things. That event went quite well, and I made some very cool friends in the process of learning how to LARP.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:44 No.16222848
    Fast-forward several dozen events or so. I’ve become fairly proficient in the ‘art’ of boffer-fighting, and have even gone so far as to make my own chainmail shirt and shield. Among my group of friends that go to the game with me, I’m not the best fighter, but I can hold my own with most of them. I’m also a fairly decent shot with a spell-packet, which certainly helps out at times.

    So we’re all at Adam’s house for our semi-traditional pre-game meetup the day before the event, getting together last-minute things and making sure we’re not forgetting anything. This event’s going to be different, however, because this is the event where I’ve decided to try my hand at being a PC. I’ve got a character fleshed out, stat ‘cheat’ sheet written up, character submission all ready to submit, and am ready to go.

    So, we get everything packed away, crash out for the night in various couches or patches of floor, and all pile into the Land Raider (full-sized van) for the trip up. We get to the site, once again stake out a good spot for our tents and gear, get dressed out and head down early for registration.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:45 No.16222856
    It’s at this point that I’m told the concept I wanted to go for, a hunter cursed with lycanthropy (and dealing with it with the help of his allies), wasn’t allowed for a starting character. Balls. So, everything had to be re-thought-out.

    That’s when my friend Adam, being the clever one he is, noticed the way I had my large, round shield slung over my shoulder (easier to carry that way). Thinking quickly, he nabbed my shield, thrust a part of the rules-book under my nose, and told me to read up on the Changed while he hunted for paint, green cloth and glue.

    Thumbing through the section he pointed out, I learned about the Changed. See, according to Plot, some mad magician a few decades ago had developed and cast a spell that turned various creatures into large, humanoid brutes, basically as a sort of makeshift army. Sadly, the wizard never learned how to actually control the now sentient beasts, and they pretty much refused to serve him, instead going off to do their own thing.

    Long story short, I was going to be a tortoise-Changed. I’m a walking, talking, heavy-armored wall with a sword. Named Thomas.

    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:47 No.16222864
    So, long story short, I’m decked out in green facepaint, a makeup artist helps Adam turn my shield into a shell, I salvage another shield from the Bin o’ Loaners, and away we go. For a thirty-minute rewrite and recostume from the ground up, it came out rather all right, I think.

    As the event went on, I started to really like being a nigh-indestructible tank, especially given that, due to a combination of Changed-stats, point-buy and an ST’s fiat on the matter, I was nearly as well-armored as a guy in full plate. At one point on the first night, the tavern was being attacked by waves of undead, and they just wouldn’t stop coming. Now, I’d already had a very active day and even more active night, which had so far culminated in chasing down a brainwashed would-be sacrificial victim and literally (with her permission as a player) throwing her over my shoulder to take back to the safety of the tavern, and was more than a little tired-out. So, I did what any smart, exhausted, over-armored turtle-tank would do – I sat down in front of the (smashed-open) door, shell facing outwards, tucked my head in, threw my shield over the back of my head and neck, and went to sleep.

    I woke up about an hour or two later, to the cheers of the other fighters who were grateful to only have to worry about protecting two doors from the onslaught, instead of three.

    (Side-note: What's with Captcha giving me quadratic equations and all? Geez...)
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:47 No.16222867
    The next morning, after waking up from maybe an hour and a half of sleep (LARPing is not for the weak), crawling out of my tent, struggling into my outfit, strapping on my shell and checking my facepaint, I made my bleary-eyed way down to the tavern for breakfast. Laid out on the main table were a variety of fruits, danishes and other easy-eats, so I grabbed an apple fritter and started going to town on it. That’s when I started to notice two things.

    First, the tavern was empty, which meant everyone else was probably out ADVENTURING or something.

    Second, something was thumping me, and I heard someone calling out damage. To which I had, somehow without realizing, been responding with the word ‘Armor’ to indicate it wasn’t getting through. Yeah, I was still tired.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:49 No.16222879
    So, here were my thoughts as this all went on:
    *NOM* …Damage.
    *NOM* …Weak.
    *NOM* …Someone behind me.
    *NOM* …Green skin. Ears.
    *NOM* …Goblin.
    *N--* …Goblins don’t belong in the tavern.

    I then proceeded to finish the last of the fritter, swallowed, batted the sword away and (again with the player’s permission) picked up the annoying little green thing and carried it out of the tavern, all the while berating it with a tirade of “You do not belong in the tavern! Goblins belong outside the tavern! You are a goblin and therefore you should be outside – and stop hitting me!”

    Did I mention I was still groggy?
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:50 No.16222883
    One mighty heave later, and the goblin was rolling down the hill, cursing about the giant turtle with the bad manners, and I went back inside for another fritter and some juice.

    And that’s the story, or at least the best parts, about Thomas the Tortoise-Changed.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:51 No.16222895
    Now that I’ve told you that story, let me tell you this one about the first Vampire LARP I ever went to. I’ve shared a part of this story before, so one or two of you might vaguely recall it. This is the story of Oracle Sevenday, the Nosferatu with zero Social skills.

    Now, I was already familiar with V:tM prior to being introduced to the LARP, and had had some fun playing it. So, once more being willing to give (almost) anything a reasonable shot, when my friends invited me to come to a game with them, I agreed.

    Now, my only experience at the time with LARPing came from AU, but as I said, I knew a bit about how Vampire worked, so I decided it wouldn’t hurt to take on a sort of background role for a while and see how things went. Fortunately, unlike some horror-stories I’ve heard from others, this group couldn’t care less about the ‘o woe is me angstangstangst’ sort of vamp – no, we were immortal and powerful, and we were going to make the best of the long nights ahead. I played a ghoul to a Ventrue, and had a blast.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:52 No.16222899
    A few games later, I’d bounced around with ideas for a character, and finally settled on one I thought would be interesting to play, especially given the story-driven and player-driven dynamics of the group. My idea was simple – where most of the players had some sort of backstory along the lines of ‘My sire saw my potential’ or ‘I was chosen to be gifted with immortality’ or something like that, I wanted to go the other route with it. For Michael Graves, alias Oracle Sevenday, computer hacker extraordinaire and complete social pariah, undeath was the punishment he received for daring to hack into the Nosferatu SchreckNet. And they weren’t happy with him.
    Now, for an idea of just how bad Oracle’s social skills were, allow me to explain for those who don’t know the MET system: During character creation, you pick one of three categories of stats to be your Primary, Secondary and Tertiary stats, respectively. The tertiary receives three dots total to spend in three attributes as you will, while the others receive more. In addition, you can take up to a certain amount of ‘negative’ attributes (5 for our game) for additional points to spend elsewhere.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)03:52 No.16222903
    Riveting tale chap
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:53 No.16222905
    Oracle’s tertiary stats were Social. He also had 2 ‘negative’ Social traits in ‘Callous’, and 3 in ‘Condescending’. He had, in essence, -2 traits in Social abilities. He also had Mental as his primary, meaning he was way too smart for his own good. Definitely not a good combination, but I liked the challenge and thought it’d be fun. As an additional interesting quirk, I popped for the Merit: Eat Food, gave him the Flaw: Addiction (Caffeine), and decided to walk around all night with a backpack containing a 12-pack of Coca-Cola. (Yes, I know, even drinking Coke with Eat Food wouldn’t help with the addiction – it was for the idea of it, and a leftover from his mortal life’s habits.)
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:53 No.16222913
    So, my first night, I get introduced to the Nos Primogen, a total bro called Ghost (real name Steve – guy was truly the epitome of Bro in and out of game), and am presented to the Prince and provisionally acknowledged. I then decide the best course of action in a foreign city filled with bloodsucking undead is, naturally, to make myself as unnoticed as possible – and, being a Nos, can turn myself ‘invisible’ (or at least unnoticed) with only a small expenditure of blood.

    So I go skulking around the city (or at least the area within game-boundaries), checking out the sights, and stumble upon these two rather…lively individuals who I’d earlier noticed from Court. Instantly, I pegged them both as Malkavian, given the way they were pirouetting about and speaking in rather odd voices. Naturally, I decided to follow them, still Obfuscated.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:54 No.16222918
    As they went along, they came across a man who, I gathered, they had an appointment with at this particular outdoor café spot. They began conversing about a deal for some property or other, and I listened curiously, taking a few notes. Then, when the man mentioned a price, the Malk sitting closest to him excused himself, turned to the other, and – his voice suddenly dropping several octaves and becoming quite evil-sounding – asked his friend, “And just HOW much are we going to get for gutting the little slut??”

    Ho-lee crap. I’d stumbled upon a Plot.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:55 No.16222922
    As the conversation went on, I learned further details – the target was a vampire, although I didn’t get a name, and someone had hired the two to ‘make it look like an accident’. I furiously wrote down everything I could, then realized I really, really needed to find Ghost and tell him what I’d found out.

    One Ob’d dash through the city later, I finally found him – in Elysium, chatting with a Tremere. By force of will alone (and an expenditure of Willpower), I managed to restrain myself long enough for him to excuse himself and come talk to me. I quickly detailed out what I’d seen and heard, and Ghost agreed this was important news.

    So, of course, he calls over the Seneschal to speak to me. He introduces me as a member of his Clan, and tells me to repeat my story to her.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:55 No.16222924
    “Well,” I began, “I was following these two Crazies around--“

    I stopped when I noticed Ghost facepalm. When I asked what was up, he leaned over to me and whispered, “She’s a Malkavian.”
    “Oh crap,” I whispered back.

    Glaring daggers at me, the Seneschal told me to continue. I did so, explaining what I’d overheard them say. She then asked me to identify them, and after I gave her a description of their relative heights and outfits, she commented that one of them was of ‘her family’, but the other was not.

    “Well, they were certainly both acting pretty craaaa---- oh crap.”

    If her eyes were lasers I’d have been a pile of ash in front of her. She thanked Ghost for bringing the matter to her attention, then turned to me as said icily, “Mister Sevenday, were I a small-minded, bigoted individual, I might suspect you of being a Malkavian for your paranoia.”

    “Oh crap,” I whispered under my breath as she stalked away. Ghost decided, then and there, he needed to teach me some better vocabulary skills.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:56 No.16222927
    That night, I also met several other individuals who would be rather important in poor Oracle’s experiences in the city – namely, a Toreador by the name of Kaitlyn Shaw, who for some reason unknown to man or beast decided to take pity on the poor, socially retarded Nosferatu, and would in later nights take me under her wing for some lessons in etiquette and proper behavior; and a Brujah named Stone, who’d done to his physical and mental stats what I’d done to my mental and social, respectively – sharp as a tack, and almost as smart, he was. He liked the ‘funny little Nos-boy’ almost immediately, and I grew to like him as a friend in turn – well, after the ‘incident’, at least.

    See, Oracle was built around the concept of being a genius with computers – absolutely maxed-out stats in Computer Use, Electronics (to build his own gear) and the house-ruled skill of Hacking. So naturally, when Stone found out Oracle knew a thing or two about computers, he decided to come to him for advice on fixing his own.

    “You see,” he said casually, “The letters kept typing wrong, so I put a note on it to say it was broken. But they weren't sticky-notes, so I used a screwdriver to stick it on the box, and the whole darn computer broke.”

    At that point, the can of cola I’d been drinking from hit the ground.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:57 No.16222932
    Fast forward several weeks; Oracle’s gradually getting into the spirit of things, learning how not to be quite such an embarrassment to the clan, and for some odd reason seems to be quite the popular charity case – I mean it, the more I tried to play up my low social skills, the more people seemed to go ‘Aww, lookit the poor thing’ and try to fix me. It was actually quite fun.

    And then came the night I staked the Prince in the Brujah Rant House.
    >> Not Entirely Anon 09/08/11(Thu)03:57 No.16222934
         File1315468645.jpg-(144 KB, 512x384, 1283564851255.jpg)
    144 KB

    Glad to know SOMEBODY has had an enjoyable larp experience. I just had a NERO character concept rejected (massive self-nerf for more flavor; playing a WFRP-style Dwarf Runesmith who can't cast combat magic, but can still create magic items...and still pays the character point cost for the battle magic he can't cast) on the following grounds: "the powergamers in the chapter will bitch that it's not good enough."

    Fuck that shit. A player's willing to sacrifice power for RP flavor and it gets turned down for not being powerful enough? Yeah, I still wanna play. Sure.

    So please, OP, share some more *good* larp stories so that I can console myself that there's an enjoyable larp experience happening SOMEWHERE.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:57 No.16222935
    In my defense, let me share the whole situation: It turned out that the Prince’s adopted childer was being haunted by the ghost of her re-dead sire, and was making her freak out and go more than a little insane. The Prince, understandably, was very pissed off at said ghost, and decided to arrange a confrontation within the safety of the Rant House – the single most structurally reinforced and soundproofed building in the entire city that wasn’t several miles underground. Now, they’d learned that a certain sword which had belonged to him was one of his Fetters, and that when she held it, he would likely soon appear to ‘lovingly’ tell her how sorry he was that she was utterly useless and worthless. Yeah, evil and sadistic ghost playing on the insecurities of his ex-childer.

    Now, I had not Clue One this was going on – I was doing my normal deal of wandering around Obfuscated, and just happened to decide to check out the Rant House in case anything interesting was going on. Whoo boy was something interesting going on – the childer was holding the sword by the blade, wringing her hands bloody on it, trying to tell off the abusive ghost while the Prince stood back, unable to interfere. Other members of Court were watching, including a visiting Giovanni and her entourage, while the drama was taking place.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:58 No.16222942
    Finally, something the ghost says makes the girl snap, and she throws the sword to the ground, storming off in tears. The Prince is torn between following after her and ripping this ghost a new one, when he notices that said ghost was reaching for the sword. Clearly reaching the limits of his self-control, the Prince rushed over to try and snatch it up – but too late, for the ghost got to it first, and both ghost and sword disappeared.

    The Prince made a Frenzy check right then. Failed. Unable to control himself, he quickly turned to scan the room for something to kill – and for one pulse-freezing second, seemed to stare right at me, before passing me by (still Obfuscated and all) to lock his eyes directly on the worst possible target he could find: Stone.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)03:59 No.16222949
    I reacted on instinct, calling out a physical challenge against the Prince. In-character, Oracle pulled out the wooden knife he’d started carrying for protection after everything began going insane. Now, I had exactly zero traits in Melee, and only a very low, raw Physical Strength to back up my swing. Through some luck or miracle, however, I made the throw, stabbing the Prince in the chest – and even more miraculously, I made the Hard Challenge to drive the wooden dagger into his heart, staking and paralyzing him.

    This, naturally, broke my Ob, rendering me completely visible to absolutely everyone gathered there. With my knife still in my hand, the wooden blade still in the Prince’s chest.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:00 No.16222954
    Naturally, I bolted. Some time later, Ghost tracked me down in the area we’d designated as the Nos underground safe-house, and after a lot of talking, gradually managed to convince me I wasn’t about to be staked and left out for the sun. In fact, after he convinced me to go with him to Elysium – swearing he’d protect me if anyone tried to pull anything – the Seneschal approached me and delivered the Prince’s gratitude for my quick thinking and brave action. So, in the end, I earned a minor boon from the Prince for staking him in front of the whole flipping Court.

    Ah, good times, good times. And, while the adventures of Oracle went way, way further than that, that’s the basic story of one of my favorite characters I’ve ever played outside of D&D.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:02 No.16222973

    And that's my stories on LARPing, /tg/. Thanks for letting me woolgather, and sorry if it all got a bit too wordy and rambling there.

    Anyway, anyone else got some good stories to tell, or should I keep babbling on?
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)04:04 No.16222984
    Do go on.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:06 No.16222990
    Fair enough - at least one person hasn't been bored to tears yet, and that's encouraging enough for me.

    So, shall I talk about 3rd Edition for a bit? Let's do so.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:07 No.16223004
    Ah, trusty old 3rd Edition D&D, the modern neckbeard’s most commonly known version of the game. I remember when it came out – there was a huge stink at the FLGS regarding it, and many purists swearing never to try it – too confusing, too rules-heavy, not enough room for creativity, too much like a video game – essentially, the same arguments many make about 4th Edition. Oh, the irony of hindsight.
    But enough of that – there’s no need to go into the difficulties we had adjusting from one system to the next (and, eventually, to the ‘updated’ version of 3.5). Suffice it to say we all eventually were willing to give it a try, and found it not quite as bad as we’d suspected it to be. In fact, we eventually decided, as I’m sure many of anon likewise concluded, that it wasn’t all that bad, and actually pretty good.
    Like I said though, enough of that. The importance isn’t in the transition, but in the stories that followed. One in particular stands out in my memory, which I’ve shared here before, but don’t think ever got archived – the tale of Velan.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:08 No.16223009
    Now, to tell you that tale, I have to tell you this one. It started in a homebrewed campaign world, a sort of renaissance setting as opposed to the more common medieval one. Technology was a bit more advanced, as one might expect, with the pinnacle being the highly-expensive, notably rare, somewhat problematic and nevertheless brutally lethal Red Steel weapons – in short, guns. Muskets were most common, but single-shot pistols could also be found, and had, for a pretty penny. It was an urban-based campaign, set in a fantastical city that felt similar to a combination of renaissance Venice and industrial-revolution London – the nobility and high-bloods lived in decadence and frivolity, while the common man toiled in factories and scum-filled streets.

    Into this whole mess were introduced several warring ‘families’, all seeking to control the power of the city – Mafia, if you will. Our party at the time was sworn to one of these families, and naturally we all sought some way to increase our standing and power within it. Fortunately for us, the best opportunity in the world to do so dropped into our laps (or rather, exploded around us) as the two top Families – ours and another – went to war. Being only somewhat higher up on the food chain than button-men, we started out the campaign as runners and small-time thugs, generally getting into mischief and seeing who could break the most kneecaps in a warehouse raid, that sort of thing. Our boss liked us for our notable success (and survival) rate, and we soon found ourselves rising pretty well and coming to the attention of the higher-ups, who also liked what they were seeing.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:09 No.16223019
    Now, while this might sound all wine-and-roses, it wasn’t quite as sweet a deal as it might seem – we lost a few missions here and there, and even had to pop for a resurrection out of our own group-funds when Adam got himself blown in half by a delayed fireball. Still, everything seemed to be going well. And then the other family decided to up the ante, by hiring mercenaries. Drow mercenaries.

    (Yeah, yeah, I know, Drow Don’t Work That Way and all that. Screw you, it worked just fine.)

    The fact that the other Family hired mercenaries in the first place is bad enough; the fact that they hired drow, well-known as efficient and sadistic killers, made it worse. The real icing on the cake, however, was when we found out that certain known groups amongst our own Family – including, well, us – had a bounty placed on our heads, depending on the level of notoriety and general UMAD the different groups were doing to our opposition. To this day, I still don’t know which had more of a reaction from us – discovering we were all named, identified targets, or discovering how low our bounty was (at the start). Much rage was had, over both issues.

    Anyway, this new development was definitely an eye-opener for us, and a turning point for the game as a whole – now, it became something more than just trying to gain prestige and badassery. Now, our lives – and more importantly, our PRIDE – was on the line. And every time we stepped up our game, so too did the mercs and the opposing Family.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:09 No.16223023
    Several sessions later, the inevitable finally happened – my character bit the big one. Taken out when a badly mishandled attempt at demolishing a factory owned by our rivals met an unexpected hit-squad. I was covering the rear as best I could, but ended up trapped in the collapse and subsequent explosion, which (as we’d planned it to do) turned the rubble into a mound of melted slag. While this also meant I was effectively Perma-Dead (Raise Dead needs a body, and Resurrection was way too expensive to afford), Shane (our DM) decided it was a noble sacrifice on my part, putting myself in mortal peril to give my buddies a chance to escape and all, and decided my next character should get some sort of bonus for it. He told me to come up with an idea, and if he liked it, he’d let me run with it.

    Since we had about two weeks before our next session (due to someone going on a family trip or something – I don’t remember fully, and it doesn’t matter), I gave the matter some serious thought.

    What I came up with, was Velan.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:10 No.16223031
    Now, to best describe Velan to you, let me explain how he was introduced to the party as a whole. It all started when, needing to fill the gap left by my death, our party went to visit our main contact with the Family to politely ask for a new partner. They were surprised when, instead of just picking a random button-man to promote, they were given a rather special opportunity – for somewhere in the chaos of the Family war, someone had come up with the smart idea of hiring our OWN mercenaries. After all, all’s fair in war, as they say. Well, long story short, the party was given permission to hire a merc to assist them, and immediately accepted the offer, making their way to the mercenary guild to see who was available for hire.

    That’s when they were introduced to Velan – a cold-hearted, cold-blooded, Lawful Evil Drow who didn’t so much care what, or who, his next job was, so long as he got paid. As part of the stipulations with the guild, he was made to agree to a contract for services rendered, which also specified how he would deal with those who hired him – important things, like keeping his employer alive and reasonably unharmed, obeying the tasks set out for him in the contract to the best of his ability, things like that.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:10 No.16223038
    I’d given the matter quite some thought when coming up with Velan, and with the help of Shane (our resident rules-lawyer as well as DM), came up with an actual fifteen-page contract for the party-leader to sign, detailing Velan’s rights and obligations. It was, understandably, extensive.

    Long story short, the party leader signed the contract, Velan was introduced to the rest of the party, and we went off to go be bad guys.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:12 No.16223049
    Now, I told you that story so I could tell you this one: the tale of Johnny Nine-Toes.

    Several play-sessions after being hired, Velan was meshing well with the rest of the party, who had come to appreciate both his skills and his dedication to the letter of his contract (although ‘appreciation’ might not be the best term for the latter – perhaps ‘concern’ would be better). We’d done several jobs, and things were going well in the party’s plans to rise up the Family hierarchy. Then came our newest mission – the Family had learned of a meeting that would be taking place in a few days’ time, somewhere in the rival Family’s warehouse district. We were to find a certain fixer who worked for our rivals, who we were told had set up the arrangement in the first place, and get him to squeal about which warehouse it was going to be.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:13 No.16223052
    Capturing the guy was almost pathetically easy, after the sorts of challenges we’d had before. We killed his three body-guards while he was going to see his mistress – who we’d paid off to keep quiet – and snuck off with him, bound, gagged, unconscious and slung in a bag, to a safehouse for an interrogation session.

    This proved quite a bit trickier than the kidnapping, because Johnny was strong-willed, and most annoying of all, was fanatic enough to prefer death to betraying his Family. After about an hour of trying to intimidate him into telling us what we wanted to know, I decided Velan had had enough. He politely told the rest of the party to wait outside, telling them he had this covered. As they left, I made sure to quietly lock the door, and prop something heavy behind it.

    That’s when things got interesting.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:14 No.16223057
    Seeing as Shane was the kind of Bro-DM who gave bonuses for excellent roleplaying, we decided to ignore the dice-rolls for a moment while we acted out the scene. Shane was game enough to sit in a chair, simulating the bound and secured Johnny, while I walked around him as Velan. I started simple, with a single sentence – not even a command, merely a fact.

    “You are going to tell me where the meeting will be.”

    “Blow me,” ‘Johnny’ spat back at me. “You drow don’t scare me – you’re just a bunch of rabid dogs on a chain.”
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:15 No.16223067
    Then I pulled out the Red Steel pistol I’d acquired, which was something I only used sparingly given the cost of reloading it. As Johnny watched, I carefully poured in a measured amount of powder, primed the gun, and dropped in a shot, packing it down.

    “I’m going to count to three,” I said calmly.

    “You don’t have the balls,” Johnny sneered. “Besides, you kill me and you won’t learn anything.”
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:15 No.16223073
    “One.” I lowered the gun against his temple.

    “Do it, drow.”

    “Two.” I cocked the hammer.

    “Eat me.”

    “Three.” I suddenly dropped the barrel, aimed, and pulled the trigger – and Johnny Nine-Toes earned his new nickname.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:16 No.16223080
    I started reloading the gun, while Adam and the others began beating on the door I’d secured, having heard the screams. Johnny continued screaming, as I leaned down to his ear and calmly whispered, “One. Two.” Click went the hammer again, the barrel of the gun aiming for his next toe.

    “I’LL TALK!!” Johnny shouted, just as the door burst down to let the on-edge and somewhat confused party in to the room.

    “He’s all yours,” was all Velan said, quietly walking out to the main room and leaving the rest of the questions to the others.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:16 No.16223086
    Fast-forward several sessions.

    We’d just finished a raid on a narcotics factory owned by our rivals, and had captured several prisoners for questioning, just to see what other operations might be coming up that we could interfere with. Lo and behold, one of the NPCs who helped escort the blindfolded prisoners to a holding location mentioned that one in particular had an odd limp, like something was wrong with his foot.

    A few more questions established that yes, as expected, it was Johnny. This was too good to pass up.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:17 No.16223096
    We decided it would be best to put Johnny in a two-man cell with another prisoner who we knew to be higher-up in the rival Family, and gave them some time to talk before escorting them both to the interrogation-room. Our wizard gave us a view of what was happening inside as we let them stew for a moment, listening to their conversation.

    At one point, Johnny said the magic words I’d been hoping to hear – “Don’t worry, Boss – these guys got nothing to scare me. I’ve been worked over by a DROW.”

    Not one man alive could resist such a perfect straight line. The door opened, and in I strode, to the glorious sounds of a familiar scream of “HOLY SHIT I’LL TALK I’LL TALK I’LL TAAAALK!!!”

    Yeah, the higher-up talked too. It was glorious, and I didn’t even have to lift a finger.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:18 No.16223101
    Fast forward once more.

    Shane apparently had a thing for running jokes, which we didn’t mind in the least. Several sessions later, an attempted strike by the rival family on one of our factories ended up with us managing to fight them off, and take some prisoners yet again. And of course, guess just who should show up in the mix.

    This time, however, we doubted there was much we’d need to know – we’d already infiltrated the rival Family much further up the information-chain than poor Johnny sat, and were pretty much just holding him with the others as part of a plan to trade them for some of our own, who had been taken hostage. Still, I couldn’t resist the opportunity, and decided to do something with it.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:19 No.16223112
    After talking the matter over with the rest of the party, I was told very explicitly that I wasn’t allowed to harm him. No, not even if I didn’t leave bruises. So, I came up with a different plan, and after considering it, the rest decided it was a funny enough idea to let me get away with it.

    Now, we were currently holed up in what had been a hospital before a firebug had gotten to it, and the building was under renovation. One of the patient-recovery rooms was still intact, if badly scorched, so I decided to set up there, giving particular instructions: Johnny was to be placed in a chair on one side of a curtain, with various things put on the other side – anything metal, or which made an intimidating sound, or could be useful for my plan.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:20 No.16223117
    So then, picture if you will: Johnny is sitting down, tied up and waiting to be questioned, sweating bullets. In walks Velan, to the delicious look of terror on Johnny’s face. “Oh, hello,” Velan says cordially. “I didn’t know you were in here. Still – what’s that? You’ll talk? Oh, no no no, don’t worry about that. I’m not going to question you.”

    Then I gave my best slasher-smile, adding softly, “This one’s just for fun.”
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:20 No.16223121
    Around the curtain I went, examining what had been assembled. I didn’t so much care what half the things were – they just made intimidating sounds, which was good enough. Blades sharpening against each other, a tool with gears that creaked together, a crank-powered drill – lots of fun. I even emerged from the curtain once or twice, appearing to consider one tool or the other, looking at Johnny from time to time before discarding them one after another.

    Finally, I came around the curtain, a pair of rusty pliers in one hand and a small leather pouch in the other. Opening the pouch, I pretended to consider its contents – a bunch of small rocks, really – before saying thoughtfully, “Yes…I could use a few more molars.”
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:21 No.16223126
    As I approached the chair, I gave the mental signal to Adam, who stepped into the room at that moment. “Velan, c’mon – we’re needed. You can practice your hobby later.”

    I did my best to appear torn, then threw down the pliers and turned to storm off, adding one sharp complaint of “You NEVER let me have any fun!”

    And that is the story of Johnny Nine-Toes, my favorite recurring NPC ever.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)04:21 No.16223131
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    I love your tale o great old one!
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:23 No.16223146
    And there we have it, /tg/. Again, thank you all for humoring me while I pretend to be a storyteller. Hope you at least enjoyed the tale a little.

    Now, does anyone else have a tale to share? I'm running rather low in the whole memory-department, and don't have anything else pre-typed for your convenience.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)04:27 No.16223169
    This is some of the best storytime I've ever heard, OP.

    I would tell stories, but mine are of no good, what with my tenures as a GM and player both being short lived.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:31 No.16223197
    The length of one's career is no measure of the value of it. Still, you've got plenty of time to let the stories grow and come to you.

    Anyway, I was just reminded of one last story, about my really, REALLY early days in gaming. Yes, we're going back to 2nd Edition here.

    Unlike the previous stories, however, I haven't taken the time to pre-type this one for your reading convenience, so I beg your patience while I type this all up directly.

    For those of you still willing to hear an old gamer ramble on, I present to you this story: The Tale of Horse.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:38 No.16223226

    Now, to begin at the beginning, as many good stories go, I must tell you that Horse began his life as an NPC, designed for little more than to be a quest-giver and occasionally helpful non-combatant. He was also invented purely on the fly, as an example of the kind of awesome you can occasionally stumble upon when rectally deriving a campaign.

    It all began with the heroes in a tavern. Cliche, yes, but I was a green DM and this was maybe my third attempt at running an adventure. So there they sit, shooting the breeze and rolling against intoxication, when a loud explosion happens in a shop outside.

    "Buggeritall," the barkeep mumbles, completely unconcerned with the explosion, "What's that Horse gone and blown up this time?"
    >> Frosted Weasel !!dLUhj2yYgMt 09/08/11(Thu)04:38 No.16223228

    This is all really fucking cool, man. Thank you for sharing.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:43 No.16223253
    Thankee kindly. It does a soul good to reminisce sometimes.

    Anyway, to continue - as I said, I was making this adventure up completely on the fly, having no idea from moment to moment what I was actually going to do.

    So, when the party decided to investigate the noise, I had to come up with something - and lo and behold, the crackpox alchemist-slash-inventor-slash-mad-scientist Horse was born, along with the way-overpowered technomagical devices he'd create, including the Lightning Gun whose inevitable explosion was the cause of the noise they'd heard.

    They loved him immediately, and when he asked them to go off in a steel-plated hot-air balloon to a local volcano to harvest some rare crystals from a red dragon's cave in order to create a new focus for the Gun, they were only too happy to do so.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)04:46 No.16223265
    I ended up having a lot of fun with the role of a crackpot inventor whose creations had about a 25% chance of exploding at any given time, and the party likewise enjoyed the often zany adventures he would either send them on, or inspire them to undertake - often as part of a 'field-test' of his newest inventions. Oy, the memories...
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)04:51 No.16223286
    He sounds like the best character ever. Literally, the best.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)05:18 No.16223403

    No stories but T-Paine was the luckiest fucking tag along NPC ever. He always went about midway in turn order usually resulting in the hobgoblins we were fighting to be pretty roughed up come his turn. and every fucking time he swung that damn long sword he rolled a crit and always confirmed. During our bloody swathe through that dungeon he killed half a dozen hobgoblins, he didn't have character levels either he was a god damn commoner.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)05:24 No.16223429
    Oy. You know, it figures my internet connection would start acting up as soon as I start typing this stuff by hand.

    Anyway, where were we..? Oh, right. Horse.

    So as I was saying, Horse was a crackpot inventor, a wonderful plot-hook and an all-around fun NPC for me to play. The party loved it, and so did I.

    Then came the time that one of the players wanted to try his hand at being a GM. So, naturally, I willingly agreed to take a turn as a PC, turning over the head of the table to him.

    As I was coming up with a character, however, I just had to ask - would Shane let me play as Horse? Perhaps foolishly, he agreed, and so I started work on converting a badass Dr. Madman NPC into an actual playable character.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)05:24 No.16223434
    I had a great time reading your stories, and I enjoy that you have such great writing style and remain humble about it. It's quite a trait.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)05:27 No.16223456
    Let's hear the 2e story. I hope it's a Planescape or Dark Sun one.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)05:27 No.16223460
    Pinned so I can read when it isn't 0530 do keep this from 404ing would you gents?
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)05:29 No.16223475
    The result was, against all odds and all expectations, actually pretty awesome. Crunch-wise, Horse was a Wizard specializing in enchantments, with a high Intelligence and strangely decent Wisdom - the insanity, it seemed, was more just character fluff than anything. Still, it was the fun sort of 'what if I do THIS??' insanity, so we ran with it and had a blast.

    And then came the turning-point in Horse's career, sometime around 8th level or so: the time he became King of the Gnomes.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)05:35 No.16223509
    Oh, I wish - never got a chance to get into Planescape or Dark Sun, for all those would have been amazing campaign worlds. Same with Ravenloft, sadly. Le sigh. However, the tale of Horse is actually from my 2e days, so hopefully it'll suffice.

    Anyway, on with the story. So okay, Horse didn't REALLY become King of the Gnomes. He simply managed to lead a contingent of gnomish warriors from some tribe to battle against a warband of ogres, and single-handedly took off the head of the ogre 'shaman' leading them all, with a well-placed shot from the Overcompensator (fire/lightning/acid cannon, essentially). The gnomes hailed him as a hero, and pledged their alliance to him in whatever endeavors would follow.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)05:41 No.16223556
    This...this turned out to be either the DM's greatest mistake, or the start of the most epic abuse of NPCs in the history of ever.

    Now, while this was all going on, somewhere along the lines Shane had come up with an actual plot for us to follow, involving a massive army of evil in the country of Evilstan, who wanted to conquer our kingdom and eat our babbies or something. Anyway, we had an actual enemy, which was cool with us.

    So, at first, Horse's career with the gnomes started off fairly innocuous - he'd have them man some of his inventions, test others, and generally help him out in various ways around the workshop and battlefield.

    Then, I started getting inventive. First, I talked Shane into letting me work on developing alchemical fire, which he agreed had merit. Then, I hired a blacksmith to help me forge several small tanks, followed by a harness-system to mount two of them onto a person's back, with a complicated set of piping to mix the contents of the tanks together.

    You can doubtlessly see where I'm going with this, but let me summarize it anyway: I created the Gnomish Fire Brigade. As in, gnomes with flame throwers.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)05:46 No.16223593
    But wait, there's more.

    At one point, we bought and customized out a large stagecoach to use as a field-lab and wagon for our gear. Given our penchant for violent encounters with monsters and such, we'd armored the crap out of this thing, reinforcing the wheels and frame, and even created a protective covering for the horses when we expected trouble.

    So, naturally, I decided we needed some offensive capabilities as well. And attached a miniature ballista to the top of the coach.

    But that wasn't enough - so I modified it to be a twin-ballista. After all, why not?

    A little later, however, I realized the true potential of this device - after all, if it could fling large bits of wood at our enemies...

    ...why not GNOMES? With GLIDERS?? and a ROPE between them, to act as a sort of bola?!?

    Sheer. Genius.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)05:51 No.16223630
    ITP: Why PCs don't normally get to play mad scientists.

    As my time is running short, let me just summarize some of the other inventions I came up with:

    The Gnomish Flying Force, an adaptation of the Gnome Bola idea where we would launch glider-using gnomes from the walls of our stronghold, armed with bladders of alchemist's fire.

    The Giant Hamster-Ball of Doom, exactly what it sounds like - a giant steel ball, with a gnome inside wearing a pair of Magic Eye goggles to see the world outside. Often decorated with spikes. Best. Trap. Ever.

    But the best one of all...well, I have time for a bit more actual story. Let me tell you about...The Castle.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)05:55 No.16223653
    Summarizing the setup for you, given time-issues:

    BBEG is preparing to launch the invasion we've been expecting all this time. By various means, we've made it incredibly impractical for him to attempt to do so through any other means besides one canyon through the mountain range separating our two kingdoms.

    Said canyon happens to be the place where our stronghold is, after we'd emptied out the nasties living in the castle beforehand.

    Now, we're given a timetable to prepare - given troop movements, supply trains and distance involved, we have about a month to prepare for the invasion force.

    Naturally, the rest of the party goes off to go level up, gain artifacts, etc. I, sadly, had Real Life obligations that prevented me from being able to show up for several more games, so the group decided to delay the BBEG's big grandiose invasion until I got back.

    Anyway, while I was gone, I continued communicating with my DM, planning out what Horse was doing back at the castle (the excuse for my not going Adventuring being that Horse was reinforcing the stronghold).
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)06:46 No.16223717
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    Thank you OP for the (enjoyable) storytime.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)06:55 No.16223759
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)07:01 No.16223794
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    Story time is best time.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)07:14 No.16223874
    Some great stories here OP. I'd love to hear more about your LARP experiences
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)08:54 No.16224466
    (SONOFA-- Frelling interweb connection...Finally came back up. Plus - side, I got a chance to type up the rest of the story, so here you go.)

    So, after much back-and-forth on the matter, we establish just what sort of insanity I'll be imbuing the place with, with the ever-so-helpful aid of an entire tribe of gnomes who think the whole thing is hilarious.

    Fast-forward to my return; the party's gained a few levels, found some Epic Gear Of Awesome, and are ready for war.

    The day finally comes, and we see the armies approaching. Combat begins, and hordes of NPC royal soldiers fall valiantly in defense of the main entrance to the Kingdom. Our own forces are doing very well, even considering the massive odds. (This, by-the-way, was when I discovered how much I didn't enjoy mass-combat in AD&D - too confusing.)

    The BBEG finally unleashes his hugest threats, including a big-ass demon the size of a full-grown red dragon, who proceeded to nearly decimate our entire army as soon as he arrived. That's when I knew it was time.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)08:56 No.16224476
    Horse had been inside the Castle this whole time, directing things as best he was able and manning or directing the manning of the siege-weapons that I'd added on. At this time, however, I stood up from the table, struck a pose, and channeling the spirit of Horse, pointed dramatically at the DM and told him, "Activate - the Third Switch!"

    "Not -- The Third Switch!!" he cried out, fully in the spirit of things.

    "Yes! The Third Switch! And the Button as well!"

    And then and there, I revealed for the players the true nature of what I'd done to the Castle - for as they watched (or, rather, listened) dumbfoundedly, the Castle...started to rise.

    Lifting upwards, parts of it shifted, turned, unfolded and re-arranged themselves as everyone in both armies watched in stunned awe. At last, the central Keep - from which I'd been controlling the whole thing - sprouted from the highest portion of the Castle, unfolding itself to reveal a giant face.

    I'd made the Castle into a Transformer.

    And that's how Horse, crackpot adventurere and madman extraordinaire, stopped the BBEG's army from taking over the world through the power of SCIENCE!!
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)08:58 No.16224490
    So there you have it - the promised end of the story, even if Baron Von Interwebs wanted to keep it from being shared. Hope you all enjoyed this trip down memory lane with me. Now, if you all don't mind, I'm going to get some sleep.

    Feel free to add your own stories, /tg/. I'd love to hear your adventures too.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)13:03 No.16226261
    Any chance of any more tales? I have none to share :(
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)14:26 No.16227021
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    Well lookee there. I wake up, and this is still here. Not too shabby atall.

    So, after a nice rest and some more reminiscing, I think I've remembered a few more tales to share, if you are all still interested.

    So, what shall I tell you about? More about Oracle, the socially inept Nosferatu?

    Would you like to hear about Ugg, the 2e dragon-slayer with an INT score you could count on one hand and still have fingers left over?

    Or perhaps you'd care to hear more about the goings-on in AU while I was there?

    Tell me your pleasure, /tg/, and I'll see if I can provide.

    (Provided Captcha stops screwing with me - a FLOWER, Captcha? Seriously??)
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:12 No.16227472
    Hmm. Silence from the /tg/. Well, I feel like sharing stories anyway, so I'll pick one instead.

    Since I started my woolgathering with LARPing at AU, I might as well continue with it. Allow me to bring you the tale of the Magic-Killing Golem.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:16 No.16227505
    So at AU (Adventures Unlimited, for those who can't be bothered to read the rest of the thread), there came a point which I would assume hits every long-term LARP after a certain point. Namely, the long-term players have gotten just too darn powerful, especially in the area of enchanted goods.

    So, Plot decided that they wanted to winnow down on the enchantments, but didn't want to just take them away via ST Fiat. So instead, they came up with a way to do it via, well, plot.

    Enter the Magic-Killing Golem. Created by who-knows-what fanatic madman, the Golem had one purpose and one alone - to track down enchanted items, destroy them and drain the power into itself, growing ever stronger in the process.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:22 No.16227566
    Mages (of which there were precious few non-multiclassed at the time, thankfully) were well nigh useless against the thing, as it would simply absorb the energies of their spells and pass them by without even a second glance. No, the only hope anyone had in defeating the monstrous automaton was direct and bloody combat with it, during which it would focus on nothing else but destroying whatever magical gear you had on you, leaving you alive and (relatively) unharmed, but completely defenseless and probably unarmed as well.

    The beast had an Armor rating of 10 (the highest possible), 10 Wounds (again, highest possible), immunity to magic, and was played by the Staffer we all referred to as 'Scary Steve', due to the fact that only four people in the history of the game had been able to beat him in a straight-up boffer fight.

    This was, to any warrior wielding an enchanted sword, a nightmare come true.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:27 No.16227623
    After two separate three-day weekender events passed without anyone being able to stop this thing, our one hope finally arrived - for Greg, Scary-Steve's most favorite sparring partner and one of the previously-mentioned four, decided to bring his old Warrior out of retirement, just for the sake of battling the golem.

    Players who hadn't been to the game in a season or more cleared their schedules. The Guild of Artificers cancelled all current orders and pooled every resource they had into forging the perfect gear for him. Prayers filled the temples with pleas unto the heavens for any deity listening to bless him in his fight.

    The day came, and Greg was ready.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:32 No.16227662
    The Golem was lured into the open field Greg had chosen for this battle, although with the amount of power radiating off his gear, one could doubt the Golem would have gone anywhere else.

    A few Real-Side facts about this battle, for you all: First, while the encounter itself was planned, the actual match itself was decidec by both to be a purely uncoordinated one - in other words, neither one was about to take a fall for this. Also, I'd found out before the match that Greg was using the boffer he'd crafted himself, and which he'd carried and used for years, before retiring it with his warrior. It was also the boffer he would practice with before every event, to keep himself honed and in shape for the inevitable combat that goes with LARPing. In other words, he knew the weapon as well as he knew his own two hands.

    This was going to be good.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:40 No.16227720
    The Golem had no use for words or speeches, and Greg was not about to waste his breath. The moment the Golem entered the field, the battle was on. With sword and shield, Greg fought the Golem across the entire field, sparing not a moment in the press of his attack. He took ground and gave it with equal lack of concern - he knew his enemy, and knew there was only one way to win this fight. He knew what was at stake, and would not fail his faithful friends and followers.

    The battle lasted nearly an hour, both men breathing heavily and clearly tiring, yet both refused to give up. Finally, Greg had beaten the Golem to a single Wound, having chipped away at every layer of its defense with a steady and sure assault, as patient and unstoppable as a tsunami.

    Then came the opportunity he had been looking for - Steve made a mistake, overcompensating while backing up, and fell backwards. We all cheered, knowing this moment to be the one we had watched for. Greg raised his sword high above his head, brought it down upon the fallen monster --
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:43 No.16227746
    -- and with a mighty roar, the Golem reached up and CAUGHT the blade, planting a foot square in Greg's chest and kicking him away. As we watched in stunned and horrified silence, the Golem regained its feet, held the weapon by tip and grip, let out another mighty roar, and brought the weapon down across its knee with a mighty *CRACK!*
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:48 No.16227797
    (We later learned that Greg had agreed, even suggested, that Steve do this if he managed to get the sword from him during the fight, as it lended epic-level excitement to the entire scene.)

    We were stunned. We were shocked. We were speechless. And we were terrified - our greatest champion, our last hope, had fought the Golem to the ground - and still, his weapon lay in two pieces at the monster's feet.

    We were so stunned, almost none of us even noticed as Greg got up, pulled a boffer knife from his boot, and drove it into the Golem's back. The silence in that place was so clear, none of us missed the whispered words: "Ten Piercing, Poison Ten, bitch."

    The roar of our cheers was deafening. Easily the most amazing battle I had ever witnessed at a LARP, and probably ever will.
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)15:50 No.16227815
    And there you have the tale of the rise and fall of the Magic-Killing Golem.

    Shall I continue with my stories, /tg/, or have you heard enough from this old one today?
    >> OP 09/08/11(Thu)16:06 No.16227936
    Hmm. Perhaps you have at that. Well then, /tg/, let me leave you with one more sharing of thanks, and a hope to do this again sometime. Ciao!
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)17:25 No.16228539
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    I can't speak for the others but it is me who should thank you.
    A most enjoyable collection of stories. I really hope you'll do this again sometime and I'll be here to lurk with a hot cup of cocoa.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)17:32 No.16228594
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    wow, awesome stories OP
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)17:44 No.16228706
    I love you OP, these were awesome
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)18:17 No.16229009

    Nooo come back, tell us more.
    >> Anonymous 09/08/11(Thu)18:18 No.16229019
    >You do not belong in the tavern! Goblins belong outside the tavern! You are a goblin and therefore you should be outside – and stop hitting me!”

    bravo good sirrah

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