Remember a couple of weeks ago, when I asked you for your favorite tabletop memories? Just as I predicted, one post wasn’t enough to list all of my favorites, so I wrote another.
Again, I picked these because they made me laugh, wince or want to steal the idea for the campaign I’m running. There were great ones that didn’t make the list, so I encourage you to go back and read the comments on that post and the first roundup.
We were given a quest to go through a labyrinth to find an agent of the local guild and rescue them while avoiding a green dragon that had made the place it’s home. We knew the place would be filled with traps, as our DM was wont to do, and we found the agent almost immediately. At this point I decided (after failing a pair of spot checks) decided to cast Charm Monster on the agent that happened to be an Avarial. What I didn’t notice was the set of magic circles and wards on the ground that sent the spell right back at me. I failed my own save. Now picture a wizard, drunk off his gourd, charmed so that anything he thought of was the BEST IDEA EVAR!
The thought process went a little like this:
“Hey we’ve already explored this room, we should explore the rest.”
“That’s a great idea! I bet I can explore faster with Expeditious Retreat.”
“Awesome idea. ::Casts Expeditious Retreat:: Let’s run while we’re at it!”
26 rooms and all the traps were set off by a charmed, drunk wizard on speed that tried to hug the dragon he found and died (again).
A bit of history on it, it was not your typical lineup. Although I’d gone somewhat straightforward with a neutral good human ranger, the rest of our party was made up of characters who were all neutral at best, and chaotic evil at worst. Needless to say, I didn’t get along well with them. After ending a quest by finding a mutilated corpse on my bed an having our pyromaniac halfling wizard try to burn down a bar, I’d pretty much had enough of their shit. And though I couldn’t just out and out kill my whole party I decided to have some fun with them, particularly that halfling, who was absolutely the worst (the character, not the player. They may have been playing jackasses, but they’re my friends to this day).
So, this was also about the time I’d grown tired of rangering, as all my character could do was shoot arrows in a variety of ways, and it was incredibly dull. So I decided to start taking wizard levels. Unfortunately, I had little money, and doubted very much my allies would much care to help me, so I devised a plan.
Taking my first wizard level, I chose a hawk as my familiar. And on a day where everyone was doing their own thing, I sent my hawk out to mug our halfling wizard.
It stole his spellbook.
Returning triumphant, we fled the city into the forest nearby. I, however, am incredibly paranoid, and fearing pursuit, I’d prepared. Once outside the city limits and out of sight, I chugged a potion of pass without trace, and hightailed it to the other side of the city, moving through the forest. There, I negotiated with my DM to be allowed to study the book for the next 48 hours straight (taking penalties for exhaustion), after which I gave my hawk the book back, and sent it to be returned.
We met in a tavern the next day, me with hawk on shoulder and a most smug grin on my face. We nearly killed each other right there.
Now, that’s technically the end of the story, but let’s add a bit of perspective here. Specifically, the wizard’s perspective. From his perspective, while out minding his own business with his roguely friend, he was suddenly and without warning accosted by a hawk, which then flew off, spellbook in talons. As one would expect of a chaotic evil wizard who just had his spells jacked, he was furious. So he and the rogue tracked the hawk, found my footprints, and followed my path out of the city, where the trail went dead. Furious, he hocked a fireball into the forest and left. The forest did not survive.
Two days later, still pissed, here comes the hawk again, and it drops the spellbook directly on his face, leaving him no worse for wear, but thoroughly confused.
The game is D&D 3.5, the module is The Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil. The party is in the mine in which the titular temple is to be found, and we hit a split in the path. One player decides to split from the rest of the party and scout one room while the rest of the party figures out something elsewhere. Luckily for him, all he finds are dead miners, clad in breeches according to the module.
“I take their breeches!” declares the player. The rest of us laugh, thinking he’s referencing The Gamers. Nope, he’s really just stripping a bunch of dead guys. The rest of us stare in bewilderment, but let it go.
When the rest of the party is done in the previous room, they join the overeager clothing thief, and we get pretty much the same description, except we’re told that the miners mysteriously aren’t wearing any pants.
The pants thief goes, “Wait, what? Who stole their pants? I was here the whole time! Didn’t I get a Spot check to see the pants thief?”
The GM, loving every second of this, goes, “Of course you know who did it - you took their pants!”
Pants thief innocently responds, “I didn’t take their pants! I just took their breeches!”
The entire rest of the table then responds, in unison, “Breeches are pants!”
To which the red-handed thief goes “Uh... I feign ignorance.”
At this point, I just lost it. “Feign? Feign? You feign ignorance?”
I made a halfling barbarian, and the DM let me shunt points around to give him 18 strength, but I had to pull from Int. This is a brief synopsis of Ur-nog the 7 Int barbarian.
Level 1: charged at an enlarged Level 14 paladin and survived for 5 rounds.
Level 2: got covered in oil thanks to a crit fail, then requested to be set on fire and thrown into an attacking army, where I intimidated so hard a 30 foot radius crapped themselves.
Level 3: found a ring of Handle Animal and through a series of 20s, tamed a bullette (question from Mary: bull-ette? Like, a cow?) with more Int than me.
Level 6: a wizard made me a saddle that could shrink Fred the Bullette so he wouldn’t stand out in the big city.
Level 8-ish: Belt of Gender Change happens to me.
Level 12: Fred is outfitted with wings and flaming pie cannons a la Blastoise.
Level 15: we have the final showdown against a 150-foot black blob monster with the face of Jinx. The End.
As quick as I can summarize a whole campaign. We were Storm Troopers looking for a Jedi. Questioned people in a Hutt bar, drank a Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster and got helped by the rebellion, met the jedi alone, accidentally became part of the Rebellion, did a run for some mercenaries smuggling spice, searched the galaxy for a Sandworm to make spice (from Dune), had to find a water planet for them to reproduce, brought it to Naboo, told the surface people and the Gungans that either side was stealing all the water from the ocean, started a civil war, whoever didn’t die from the war was attacked by thousands of Sandworms (over 4 billion deaths), drink pure spice which I can only survive rolling a 38 on a d20, roll a natural 20 with +18 bonuses, become muadib, addict the Star Wars galaxy with spice, take the spice off the market (killing untold billions), blame it on the empire, find plans for a planet moving device, need a Death Star worth of money, heist the conglomerate bank of Coruscant, move the planet, created the Dune universe.
It gets out of hand when your DM says “I will let you do anything if rolled a natural 20 for it.”
Do you have a story? Share it in the comments. Bonus points if you got the Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference, and if you start listing more of them in the comments.