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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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[ERROR] No.38029890 [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

Alright, I'll just be dumping /tg/ stories here.

If anyone has the Middle Eastern Drow one, that'd be great.

>> No.38029971

>> No.38029998

>>38029971
Anon pls

>> No.38030345

>>38029890
Well that's blatantly racist

>> No.38030375

>>38030345
ees steel preetty funny, senor.

>> No.38030383

>>38029971
bby pls don't do this

>> No.38030393

>>38030375
Es todavía muy gracioso señor.

Pero no.

>> No.38030407

>>38029971
What is this, a screencap for ants?

>> No.38031381

>>38029890
do you mean the Eastern European Drow cap?

>> No.38031754

>>38030345
Do...do you not realize where you are right now?

>> No.38031975

>> No.38032597

My Tiefling Bard once turned a campaign into a musical.

D&D is a beautiful place.

>> No.38032650

>>38032597
Storytime?

>> No.38032669

>> No.38032713

>>38032597
Come on boyo tell us the story

>> No.38032826

>>38032713
>>38032650

First Tiefling character, and of course being goofy lil' me, I decided to try playing a bard. Hardcore. All points in charisma, intelligence, and dexterity, and dump EVERYTHING into perform. My instrument of choice? Well, my sister had gotten a violin so I wanted to try playing a fiddle. Worked in the DM's book, so he agreed that he would tolerate my Tiefling (named Beel because I have no originality).

Beel was a simple bard of many tastes. He loved booze, women, and songs. Oh, did he love songs. You see, as we leveled, I essentially dedicated at least 2/3 of my points into perform because honestly, I enjoyed being the center of attention when out of combat. Beel would step into a tavern, hear the lute and say 'shit ain't gonna fly', and you can bet your sweet ass that we'd be having a good ole' fashion hoedown in that place before the third drink in. Half the time, the party made me go in first to get free drinks and rooms (Beel never needed one. He would find a tavern wench and 'fiddle' her through the night). More than a couple of sessions wnt by which ended with
“Beel pulls out his fiddle and starts this shindig.”

But there was a story, and because Beel was so great at fiddling, and partying, and making merry, he sucked royally at actual combat. Not that it was a big deal, I mean I wasn't an idiot. Stayed back, boosted the party, and laid the chicks that needed laying (I gave them breakfast in bed everytime though because Beel is a gentleman man-slut). Problem with that is when you NEED to help, because otherwise you look like a tool who's riding his team for free stuff, so I promised the group that when I saw a chance, I would take it.

Then came the bridge with the devil.
Oh, the bridge with the devil. Who had a violin.

>> No.38032953

>>38029890
You mean the ones from undisclosed European country, right?

There are two caps.

>> No.38032973

>>38032953
>>38029890
I'm too used to the post timer being 30 seconds on other boards when posting with an image.

>> No.38033001

>>38032826
So, Beel somehow manages to notice that the devil near the bridge HAPPENS to have a violin. The DM said something about him looking like a performer, but all Beel heard, all I cared about, was 'Violin'. SO, instead of rushing, I asked them to wait it out just a bit while Beel waits for his moment of calling. The entire party begins passing sneak checks, which were easy due to thick as hell underbrush, but Beel is the only one rolling perception. What did he learn?

1. The devil seems to be part of a traveling circus.
2. The devil appears to have a huge bag of gold that seems to be a toll for the bridge'
3. He's pretty damn good at the violin he had.

Our wizard reminded us that apparently the town had come under siege from the local devils who were charging toll on everything and everyone. Was this important? Sure. Did Beel care? Eh, a little. Was it his motivation? Hell no.

We sat in that brush for two in-game hours waiting, until that bastard suddenly started playing his violin, by himself of course, in the middle of the woods. I listen to a few songs, the party growing anxious, before finally seeing him start really shredding the violin. This was it. This was the moment of truth. Beel watched the devil, smiled, and quietly told the party:

“I've got this, fellas.”

>> No.38033023

I wish there would be more like this.

Like fighting the fast food industry, the dark chef league led by The Butcher, and an Oriental chef circuit.

>> No.38033137

>>38033001

Beel leaps from the underbrush, his violin in his storage box, and a smile on his face. He stuns the devil for a moment, who looks up and stops playing. The two infernal creatures locked eyes for one glorious moment, and the devil stands up with his hand holding the bow but reaching for the dagger on his hip.

“Who are you?”

Beel bows slightly and introduces himself as a weary traveler who's way behind, and he's willing to make a deal.

The devil, intrigued by Beel's monstrous amount of charisma, decides to hold off on killing him. The rest of the party slowly starts to step from the brush, Beel ignoring them as he sweet-talks the monster and tries to convince him to accept a challenge. The DM makes a roll, checks it, and then informs me that 'the devil is open to your idea.'

This was when Beel strikes.
Quick perception check, I notice a felled tree, and begin my narration.

Beel hops up on that hickory stump and says
“Boy let me tell you what! I bet you didn't know it, but I'm fiddle player too, and if you care to make a dare, I'll make a bet with you. Now, you play pretty good fiddle, boy, but give this Tiefling his due. I bet my party's gold, against the bridge toll to think I'm better than you.”

>> No.38033188

>>38033137
I...can't honestly tell. Is this part of the story or did we just get Bel-Air'd?

>> No.38033224

>>38033188
come on anon have faith

>> No.38033271

>>38033224
>>38033188

Have some faith is right.

>>38033137
Utter. Fucking. Silence.
The entire table is quiet as they stare at me, having leapt up from my beanbag chair and singing the entire thing. I wait for the DM's response, and he does the best thing any human can possibly do in such a situation.

The DM turns around to his laptop, types up a few things, and suddenly, the music begins to play. The group looks a little confused, and the DM stands from his own chair, a smile on his face, and then he narrates:

“The devil says “my name's Carn-ya, and it might be a sin, but I'll take that bet, you're gonna regret, cause I'm the best there's ever been!”

The group is utterly lost, and the music hits the first lull (it was instrumental, no vocals, so it was just the drum and guitar. The DM suddenly pantomimes leaning over and putting something down.

“The devil opens up his case and says
“I'll start this show.”
And fire flies from his fingertips as he resins up his bow.
And he pulled that bow across the strings and it made an evil hisssss!
And a band of gibberlings joined in and it sounded something like this!”

That's when the first player falls over laughing. But I'm not.
Beel knows music is the most serious of all battles.

>> No.38033389

>>38033271
Beel waits for the tempo to change, listening and watching as this devil unleashes the 9 hells in his sick-fiddling. The DM asked someone below to roll a few times to get some numbers for gameplay purposes. By this point the music is blaring as loud as possible, and any airspace not filled with the most epic fiddle tunes to grace our ears is filled in by laughter from the group.

As the tune finally comes to an end, the DM bows and sits down. He pretends to point the bow to me and continues.
“When the devil finishes, Beel says”

And I take up my role as the most Bard-core of all.
“Well you're pretty good ole' sun, but sit down in that chair right there, and let Beel show ya how it's done!”

And what did I do?
I sung, and starting skipping around the room, jumping on chairs, and sliding around the room as I pretended to be the Bard I knew in my heart Beel was. I did everything I could to make him proud, even trying to make my fingers look realistic as I prance like a fool to the laughter of my friends.

And as Beel's retort slowly winds down, I get right in my DM's face, and pantomime pulling the bow across the strings with the most devilish grin I can muster, leaning over him in the most awkward if alpha stance I can muster as my legs still shake.

>> No.38033462

>>38032826
>>38033001
>>38033137
>>38033271
>>38033389
I'm glad I'm here to witness this

>> No.38033548

>>38033389
The DM pauses the music and starts checking the numbers we rolled, adding in everything.
At first, it doesn't look good for Beel, who was ACTUALLY facing possibly one of the best fiddlers this plane. That was until we hit the final 3 rolls and added my perform skill in.
I actually scored about 70% of the score after all the math was done.
Beel had Fiddled the FUCK out the devil.

The DM smiles, turns around, turns the music on, and narrates once more:
“The devil bows his head because he knew that he'd been beat, and he lays that bridges toll down on the ground at Ole' Beel's feet.”

As we laugh, I scoot away, pointing the imaginary bow I carry towards him.
“Beel said 'come on back if ya ever wanna try again.
I should told ya before we started, I'm the best fiddler there's ever been!”

And for a glorious moment, we all sang together as I pranced around the room once more, my feet growing slightly numb and the people next door probably confused as to why the neighborhood has the best fiddle music this side of the river. As the song wound down, my best friend jumped up and grabbed my shoulder, and the best of the group applauded. I did it. This was IT. This was Bard-core.

From that point on, I made it a point to challenge fiddlers. I never sung against them, simply challenged them and tried to make some coin. Beel finally bought his way in, and managed to become a part of the team.

The best part was after that session, I asked the DM if he set that up for me.
He had.
But we were supposed to kill him for his violin.

Months later, the DM informed me that we would be reusing the same characters as part of an epilogue, part of a special story. And he informed me that Beel would once more need to fiddle, but that is another story.

>> No.38033617

Just so all of you are aware, Reddit has been stealing our greentext/stories and claiming them as their own.

>> No.38033691

>>38033548
bard-core as fuck

>> No.38033724

>>38033617
any pics to confirm your stories?

>> No.38033742

>>38033617
They've been doing that for years.

>> No.38033786

>> No.38033817

>> No.38033871

>> No.38033913

>> No.38033929

>>38033691
No-core like Bard-core man.
Beel was my best bard I have played bar-none, because my DM let me ham it up and dump everything into dancing and playing music. He also tailored certain things towards me to fit those skills, like the second part of the duel, which we called "The Fiddle Me This' campaign.

>> No.38034026

>>38033817

Oh god, I hurt my leg and this has me laughing so hard that I'm starting to enjoy the pain.

>> No.38034323

>> No.38034473

>>38032973
>>38033137
>>38033188
>>38033271
>>38033389
>>38033462
>>38033548
>>38033691

There is a second part to Beel's story, and if you're interested, I shall share it, but I won't muck up this fine thread without proper cause. If there's interest, I shall post it for all to find closure.

>> No.38034486

>>38034473
Regale us with the second part of your tale anon

>> No.38034533

not even sure anyone else is here anymore

>> No.38034570

>>38034473
pls do it ganon

>> No.38034693

>>38034486
>>38034570

Well, for you guys, since you asked.

It had been almost a decade in the game world, and since we left off, our characters had essentially gone their separate ways. The initial plot was gathering everyone back together to become the 'dream team' of the fantasy world. We thought it was kinda cool, since most of characters were young, we managed to still play characters in their 30's and one in their 50's (Paladin, super Bro).

The rest managed to form up without much problem, and then the group made a note that something was amiss. Then the thief asks “Where the fuck is Beel?”

Enter me, suddenly handed this sheet of a character aged a decade, but was a surprised as hell. The DM had given Beel a fucking theater he played in every other night. He was apparently bardy-hardy every spare moment of his life. He drank, he gambled, and he slept. In a decade, Beel had never settled down, but in all fairness, he was just as much a gentlemen to the ladies he was partying with, which left him a rather decent reputation. How did the party find Beel?

Why, under a group of party-goers, a mug hanging off his horn and a shit-eating grin on his unnaturally youthful, infernal face.

“Been long enough, fellas!”

Beel gathered his gear, paid for the night, made his latest roomie breakfast, and set out with his friends, happily fiddling as he set out on the road after them.
And so the party sent out after the new threat, unaware of their higher purpose.

>> No.38034709

>>38034693
As the party journeyed from town to town, they noticed strange things.
Well, they did, Beel noticed the ladies and a few bars but otherwise he was blind.

See, in the time since we left the characters, they had become rather famous, rather heroic figures that were a little like celebrities. When they entered a town, everyone noticed them, and reacted with joy and cheer and sometimes flat out fanclubs appeared. Everyone was famous.

Except for Beel.

For some reason, people ignored, if not HATED Beel on sight. I had to roll performs to get them back to a neutral state, then perform my way into their hearts again. Not that I was complaining about barding up a storm once more, but OOC, we all took note of the weird censor that people had on Beel, and by extension, me.

I still had performance points no mortal bard has any reasonable right to have, which meant the couple of barfights I got into were pretty damning from a gameplay point of view, but pala-bro was there for the healing. Had he not been there healing me, the 'angry fanatics that crept through the window' would have clubbed me to death.

Oh yeah, there were angry fanatics that crept through my window one night to kill me, by the way. They were the first lead we had.

>> No.38034722

>>38033001
This is now the thread song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6RUg-NkjY4

>> No.38034745

>>38034709
Turns out, there was someone casting high level 'mind-wipe' and 'suggestion' spells that erased me from everyone's memories and made them subtly hate me for no goddamn reason besides DM reasons. As we progressed, it got worse and worse. Only thing that kept my party on my side was nightly fiddle sessions that restored their memories of me. Shit was getting intense.

We continued to move forwards, growing close and closer to the source, where people would literally attack me in the streets when they figured out who I was. It was kinda suckish until I could sneak in the tavern and perform the entire crowd into praise and love. By the time we reached the castle with the BBEG's initials written on the front door, we were tired, battered, and sick of people trying to kill the musician for no reason.

We ascend the stairs, defeating deluded warriors and bandits forced into service, Beel providing commentary and epic BGM the entire time. As we draw closer to the top, the DM informs me I hear a light sound, almost like a string instru-

Oh you did not.
Seriously, DM?

>> No.38034757

>>38034745
We throw open the doors and see SURPRISE.
It's mother. Fucking. Carn-ya.

Turns out I didn't just out perform this bastard, I DESTORYED him, and he hated me. Oh, did he hate Beel. He had devoted half a decade to plotting against him, and the next half carrying it out. Everything had been because Beel had destroyed him, and he was surprised when he saw the rest of the party, not even remembering their faces. All he cared about was me.

It was then that I realized that the DM was leaning back and he handed me a sheet. His next move was to click something on his laptop. The paper in my hand? Lyrics for “Devil Comes Back to Georgia”, which I had no idea was an actual thing.

And the music started.

Carn-ya casts some sort of infernal tangle on the party and suddenly the entire tower gives way to reveal that it's the center of a Mass, and I mean MASS, teleport spell. He ports half the world into this little enormous arena-thing, creates magic speakers, and then the DM clears his throat to announce to the world his challenge.

>> No.38034790

>>38034757
“It's been ten long years since the devil laid the bridge toll at Ole' Beel's feet.
And it burned inside his mind the way he suffered that defeat.
In the darkest of the hells the devil hatched an evil plan,
To tempt the Tiefling fiddler, for he's just a mortal man!
'The sin of pride' the devil cried is what will do you in!
You thought you had this setled, you're the best fiddler ever's been.”

I sat there listening to the music as the DM continued, the rest laughing around me as their characters are grappled and left to watch this infernal showdown take place.
Then the DM continued.
“Beel didn't you know that time keeps marching on?
The coldest hours in Eberron come just before the dawn!
Devil's back in game will you stand the test
or will you let this devil be the best?”

And that's when Beel cracks his neck, drops the kicks his case open, and places the fiddle under his chin as I improv the lyrics a smidge (Improv club does WONDERS for roleplay, don't it?)

“In truth I haven't played this character much since June.
But give me half a minute, he'll get his fiddle back in tune.”

>> No.38034814

>>38034790
I watch the lyrics, which he was nice enough to point out a few key things to change at my discretion. And true to the tune, the devil whooshes over and steals my bow and fiddle, and the DM tells me he starts to play:

“The devil grabs the older fiddle out of Ole Beel's hand and said:
'Though I was fiddler underground, now I walk the land.'”

The DM stands up, pulls out an inflatable violin he found and starts to pretend to play, dancing and keeping beat with the music, which even though was new, I could feel the familiar beat and found myself not worrying about keeping up the improv. The DM stops and points to the party that sits tied up, laughing hysterically and rolling his performance, and continues:

“Ya'll just better be turning back if you want this Tiefling to win,
'Cos natural 's the only cure for the targets he's gotta hit”

I grin and read from the paper and add my own touch:
“Now devil it would sin for you to fudge my rolls,
you go on back to hells and to the taverns I will go!”

“Ole Beel are you practicing or will you rolls go low?
This DM rolls the devil hard and there'll be no re-rolls.
Can you hear the party cryin', will they ever know
this devil want's Beel's very soul?”

>> No.38034834

>>38034814
The DM throws me the fiddle and I slip off my shoes and socks, stretching my toes out as the music starts to come back around. I grin and test the inflatable fiddle out, bending my knees as I get ready to bardcore once more. As the music comes to me, I point the bow and happily state:

“Before we play, I want to thank you for letting forum boards ring true,
They said DM's can't be trusted-”

He smiled and laughed
“Yes, but what you gonna do?”

Beel smiles, and readies the bow
“Well you can have my character sheet if you think that you can win,
'Cos I out-rolled you once, with this here bard, and I can roll them once again.”

And you can bet your collective asses I pranced around that room like a fucking swan princess trained by the blue fairy and private tutelage from the Russian ballet class. Did I look like an idiot? Yes. Did I make myself look like a fool? Oh yeah. Did my knee hurt for a month because of this? You bet.

But I'll be damned if I do NOT follow the bard-core I wanted to be.

“Slime-cube's green, Tiefling's red,
Can't fight shit, sing instead,
this devil's dream is that he can win.
But Bard Beel's the best fiddler that's ever been.”

>> No.38034852

>>38034834
I slid to my knees as I finished my solo, making the holes that would eventually lead to the ruin of one of my favorite jeans, and nearly crushed my little toe (I am not a small dude, at all). I was panting, the group was laughing and clapping, and the DM was trying not the fall over out of his beanbag chair as I stuck my tongue out like a rock-star and held the inflatable fiddle over my head.

The DM finished the rolls, calculated the performance score, and handed me the sheet.

This time, Beel had finished with a little over 80% of the total allotted points scored in the game. The entire world cheered as Beel stood up, bowed, and then promptly danced arund the devil who collapsed into a terrible mess on the stage. One of the greater evil gods appeared, and was so moved by my performance that he apologized, took the devil Carn-ya back to his plane, and promised to prevent him from bothering me, lest my fiddle skills start to falter because of the distraction.

>> No.38034871 [DELETED] 

>>38034852
After that, the party once again went their separate ways, eventually passing into legend. The Paladin bro became the right hand enforcer of his god (Well deserved. Dude was more devoted to Kord than any bastard before him, god-speed man), the thief finally landed the biggest payday imaginable and retired to luxury, but not before buying an orphanage (A promise from the first campaign she played). The wizards founded a school of magic, divided it into two sides, and they have battles between the two classes every week to decided the lunch menu. The warrior reclaimed a long lost throne and re-founded a kingdom of magic-less people with nowhere to go.

And Beel?

Beel continued the tradition of bard-core, eventually reaching peak status as the star of his own tale, and after years of continuing the fiddling of divine aptitude, he achieved god-hood, as a god of music. His clergy currently practices the fiddle, and he is invoked every year to duel the best. Should he judge them worthy, he bestows a golden fiddle of performance. I refuse to play Beel again, mostly because I can't do better than that, and party because I've moved from bards.

But I will never forget the bard-core.

>> No.38034889 [DELETED] 

>>38034871
Holy shit dude. That was awesome.

>> No.38034890

>>38034852
After that, the party once again went their separate ways, eventually passing into legend. The Paladin bro became the right hand enforcer of his god (Well deserved. Dude was more devoted to Kord than any bastard before him, god-speed man), the thief finally landed the biggest payday imaginable and retired to luxury, but not before buying an orphanage (A promise from the first campaign she played). The wizards founded a school of magic, divided it into two sides, and they have battles between the two classes every week to decide the lunch menu. The warrior reclaimed a long lost throne and re-founded a kingdom of magic-less people with nowhere to go.

And Beel?

Beel continued the tradition of bard-core, eventually reaching peak status as the star of his own tale, and after years of continuing the fiddling of divine aptitude, he achieved god-hood, as a god of music. His clergy currently practices the fiddle, and he is invoked every year to duel the best. Should he judge them worthy, he bestows a golden fiddle of performance. I refuse to play Beel again, mostly because I can't do better than that, and partly because I've moved from bards.

But I will never forget the bard-core.

Capthca: isize
Livin' large, baby. Beel's livin' large.

>> No.38034902

>>38034890
Holy shit dude. That was awesome.

>> No.38034903

>>38034890
>>38034889
Sorry man, had to fix my atrocious spelling and terrible tense. I'm glad you enjoyed it, one of my best campaigns, never quite got that excited about a running joke again.

>> No.38034918

>>38034890
someone just screen cap already.

>> No.38035009

>>38034890
>Devil Comes Back to Georgia
And thus, my man, your DM proves he was awesome.

Fifty-foot loudspeaker, magic fiddles, fuck it's like Hail and Kill went country.

Also, Johnny Cash singing a a sequel to a Charlie Daniels classic is what every campaign NEEDS.

>> No.38035025

>>38029971
Is that John Cloud Raven?

>> No.38035073

>>38034918
Other one on it's way

>> No.38035167

>>38035073
Part 2

>> No.38035386

>> No.38035577

From the "Can a Skaven be OK in a adventurer party?" thread

anyone have the fuck yeah humanity story of the humans who existed alongside these other aliens as a sort of defense force? The story focused on one human soldier and an alien scientist getting down and dirty like Kurk at one point.

>> No.38035632

>>38035577
You forgot the counter-post about the female Skaven being, in lore, giant breeding rats with the brains of turnips that emit enough pheromones to have every Skaven within the Old World descend on your position.

Does anyone have that post?

>> No.38038658

Looking for the Detect Evil story that started a shitstorm in the last thread.

>> No.38039640

>>38038658
Beel writefag here, contributing for the good of the thread.

>> No.38039730

>> No.38039829

>>38039640

I am not a clever man. I don't get it.

>> No.38039866

http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Time_Wizards

>>38039829
moral dilemma like orc babby

Paladin passed the test

>> No.38039870

Anyone got the Clown story? From CoC? I think it was Bonzo or Bonzy. It was on here a few days ago, but I can't find it anymore.

>> No.38039973

How the hell hasn't this been posted?

Orbital Feels Cannon.

>> No.38040155

>>38039973
I see your canon and raise you a paladin.

>> No.38040283

>>38040155
I remember that story.
Doesn't relate to me on a personal note simply because I never Paladin, but regardless, it's a moving feels journey. Good on you, anon.

>> No.38040304

>>38039973

Uh gawd mah feels

>> No.38040935

This one never fails to make me tear up a bit.

>> No.38043054

I don't know why, but this makes me giggle like mad.

>> No.38043674

>>38035577
I have never heard of that HFY story but I want it.

>> No.38043976

>>38035577
>The story focused on one human soldier and an alien scientist getting down and dirty like Kurk at one point.
inb4 whoskirk.jpg

>> No.38044772

>>38029890

>> No.38046338

>>38039730
>orcs respond by flipping the table over and going "OH SHIT, IT'S THE FUZZ!"

BEST. FUCKING. DM. EVER.

>> No.38048339

>>38043976
did someone order whoskirk.jpg?
just pretend its not a png

>> No.38048855

>>38048339
No you idiot we wanted the HFY story of someone pulling a Kirk.

>> No.38049182

Does anyone have the female dragon neighbor with what I assume is a very depressed protagonist?
I really want to know if that was ever continued.

>> No.38049224

>>38049182
The insane female dragon who gets protagonist to 'fight' an equally insane knight for her? Lemme check.

>> No.38049305

>>38049182
>>38049224
Nope, don't have it, try searching the archive for dragon neighbor.

>> No.38049306

>>38049224
She's not insane. The protagonist is just an enigma to her.
And that knight is fucking based.

>> No.38050222

>>38033913
Every time I come across this sort of thing I wonder how truthful it all is ... for example this sounds a lot like cohen the barbarian and his adventuring party from the discworld books.

>> No.38050434

>>38050222
I really don't care if it's real or not, I want entertainment, not a statistics lesson, as long as it's well told it's good enough for me.

>> No.38050512

>>38030345
And?

>> No.38051424

>>38035577
>anyone have the fuck yeah humanity story of the humans who existed alongside these other aliens as a sort of defense force? The story focused on one human soldier and an alien scientist getting down and dirty like Kurk at one point.
This is relevant to my interests,

>>38035632
I hope nobody screen capped that... sometimes 'nice' stories are allowed about grimdark things...

>> No.38052011

I have a story from a custom superhero game run on d20 and with a few strangers over the course of three months.

It's about ~10 posts long. Who wants to hear it?

>> No.38052326

>>38033023
God damnit that was fucking awesome. 11/10 want to play.

>> No.38052835

>>38039866
I have played so many legendary games of this.

>> No.38054089

>>38052835
>>38052011
I believe you both have some writing you should be doing. Post dat shit.

>> No.38054391

>>38054089
It was the first superhero game I ever played. One guy built a hero that essentially read "superman v2" named Olympian, and the power-gamer took abilities that made him adapt to almost anything if he makes a couple of save throws named Adept who was kinda like Martian Manhunter.. There was one other 'vigilante' dude that was like Rorschach met TRON, who was a wiz with computers named Protocol.

Our DM had also decided to run two villains in tandem to the heroes. I played a bombastic mad scientist named Doktor who was prone to mad cackling, was bald, and spoke with a super heavy German accent. My friend, who was extremely patient and loved roleplaying, played a simple street thug named Solomon. No real powers, but instead dumped all his points into arbitrary skills like assembling explosives and picking locks, things minions resorted to. He did, however, apparently enjoy my character OOC whenever we met, but IC, Solomon was quiet, thoughtful, and had almost no backstory. He didn't even really have a costume, just wearing the simple white tank top, a medium length trenchcoat with a hood, and a hat with the local baseball team logo on it.

As the game progressed and we gained levels, the Adept became infamous for his flawless streak of crime solving and defeating the villains of the week, Protocol became the Batman of his city and foiled thug after thug, the Olympian slowly became the Superman of the world, becoming adored and famous to almost everyone.

The problem came when we realized that Olympians player was becoming That Guy with no turning back.
With every level, he became more and more enamored with himself, and starting mixing up his OOC speak with his IC taunts. On more than one occasion when he and Doktor fought, the Olympian would actually let a few racial slurs out. He shrugged, thought 'meh, he'll get over it'. But he didn't. He got worse. Much, much worse. And then as if it was the icebreaker, both Protocol and Adept began to follow suit.

>> No.38054413

>>38054391
Slowly, the three 'heroes' became even more dickish than the villains they were fighting, often using their oh-so-subtle influence to get themselves free shit from the city they were protecting, the one that they we're supposed to because it was the right thing to do. Doktor and Solomon continued their operations, which converged quite a lot and we found ourselves become steadfast allies, honor among thieves and all that. I, being the one with the most connections, supplied us with various NEFARIOUS TOOLS OF EVIL, while he sunk points into stealth to the point that most people couldn't pick him out of a lineup, he was so 'uninteresting'. He acted as my hands, and we became brothers in blood.

Until we failed the heist.

I do not blame Solomon (If you're reading this, I know it was a bad roll man, and I'm sorry this happened to you) for the series of unfortunate events that unfolded, but what eventually happened was we were discovered by Protocol, who called in Olympian and Adept to help him pummel the two criminals and their henchmen into the ground. Both Solomon and I were not designed for combat, so after they inevitably cleared out our goons, they attacked us. Doktor went down after his exoskeleton failed, and was promptly thrown against a wall, dealing a massive amount of damage. Solomon tried to help, but Adept becomes as strong as Olympian and begins to toss the broken body of the Doktor back to Olympian in a sick game of catch, laughing when the purposely miss the rolls and let my soon-to-be-corpse splat aginst the ground. This went on for an hour in game, and I broke character to ask them to stop. That only made them take it farther. Olympian picks up the Doktor, who is a bleeding mess of pulp, shattered teeth, and more than a few crushed organs. The Olympian looks over at Solomon, smiles heroically, and just flicks his finger under my chin. With superhuman strength. DM rules I'm as dead as they come, at least for the moment.

>> No.38054435

>>38054413
He threw my corpse in front of poor Solomon, who to this point, was upset that his partner-in-crime had taken such a beating from the so called 'heroes'. OOC, Solomon asks for a time out and turns on Olympian and the heroes, asking them what posessed them into thinking that was how heroes acted, and why they thought it would be okay to be such monsters fighting a villain like that.

Olympian shrugged and said that's how heroes work. As long as the bad guy is defeated, he's the hero, and therefore, he's right.
I asked the DM if I could have my brain saved, and he allowed it, lest we had to roll a new villain for the setting. Solomon decides to sneak away, and slips from his bonds before sneaking away into the night, carrying the body of Doktor into the secret lab and allowing the machines to place his brain in a jar and sticking him into a new version of the exoskeleton.

Overall, I was upset they took me so easily and so cruelly, but Doktor set back to work and quickly got used to the lack of a body.
Not Solomon. He just got very, very quiet.
He started working seperate from me, popping in to purchase explosives and equipment, often trading it for simple tools, a few tips about what was going on in the NEFARIOUS UNDERWORLD the Doktor was a part of. I thought he was playing it safe, not trying to draw attention to his actions or anything so he could just continue on forever, but he had different plans apparently.

>> No.38054451

>>38054435
In the middle of the halftime show for the city, the lights went dead before rebooting up in the middle of an inning. Suddenly, all the screens boot up to show a video of Protocol fighting crime. It was a clip from the local news that was used in the latest 'Who is Protocol?' segement to talk about his vigilantism. It wasn't anything new, not to the crowd, until it started playing longer than it most clips, and showed Protocol taking the beating a little too far. After leaving the thugs for dead, Protocol begins to sadistically torture them and then takes cash out of their wallet. What stung most for the Protocol player was that this wasn't edited; He actually did this on numerous occasions. The player demanded the feed stop, but the DM says that the video is being streamed from a private server with a direct cable connection, and there's no way for Protocol to stop the hundreds of clips and images of his once heroic visage being shown to be just as cruel as the thugs he fought. The final image? Protocol without his mask. And the words:
"HYPOCRITE. HE IS JUST AS DANGEROUS AS THE CRIMINALS."

Solomon, it turns out, had dumped EVERYTHING into sneak points, effectively becoming an un-person with such little presence that he was free to go where-ever the hell he wanted without a hero noticing him. He used this to trace Protocol and film him without his knowledge, gathering evidence whih he then streamed from, and here's the kicker, Protocol's own home computer. Protocol was killed by cops when they attempted to arrest him and he responded with a threatening motion that would have activated some kind of electric weapon had the cops not shot first.

>> No.38054494

>>38054451
Now the heroes are mad, and the city is in uproar with the idea of non-cops having a say in the justice system. Olympian, however, still has enough sway to calm them down and keep them happy with Adept and Olympian serving the public good. They devote a considerable amount of gametime to trying to locate Solomon for JUSTICE, but no dice. Doktor is approached by him, gives him a device called the 'phase-net' that I had made to create a containment field for Olympian. He promises me he'll put it to use and I give it to him on credit.

Adept goes about is job, foiling a few crimes by himself. He chases after a few droids made by DOKTOR INKORPORATED, which lead him into a small brick room before stopping and promptly being smashed by his temporary strength. As he turns to leave, the door locks and the phase-net activates, stunning him momentarily before the DM informs him his head is starting to hurt.

See, in the game, there are two kinds of attacks: Physical and Other. Physical is fists, kicks, physical force, etc. Other is energy, magic, or spiritual. The phase-net operates using psychic energy as a weapon to stun characters, but because Olympian is so bullshit, he powers through it because reasons. Adept was trying to, until Solomon pointed out a flaw in Adept's power description: He adapts PHYSICAL defenses, not Other.

>> No.38054523

>>38054494
Adept screams and grabs his head as the psychic power overtakes him, Solomon describing the setup as 'Gerry-rigging the power source into the city's power-grid', meaning the pain would only go up until the city ran out of power, and this is a metropolis size city we're talking about here. Adept tells the DM he needs to adapt out of the psychic hold, and the DM asks him if he's sure he want's to adapt, and Adept says he's absolutely sure.
Because Adept can't adapt an Other defense, and because his power is described as 'nature making the straightest line between a problem and solution', Adept automatically adapts the best trait for the current 'psychic damage' predicament:
His body breaks down his brain and leaves him without any cerebral tissue more advanced than the functions needed to keep breathing. Since his ability to adapt and change MUST be a conscious choice to do so, he is stuck in his current adaptation with no method of revival.
Solomon drags the drooling, brain-dead hero to the front of a hospital and leaves him in the care of the nurses who happen upon him in the morning.

By this point, Olympian was PISSED. The players for Adept and Protocol demanded that they get rescued/ revived, and that Olympian bring both Solomon and I to justice. Olympian sweeps the city and urges a marshal law into effect, turning the entire city into a nightmare. Police gun down Vigilantes left and right, superheroes save for Olympian have all but gone into hiding, and Solomon is still one stealthy bastard hiding amongst the dark alleys and secret tunnels, with no hop of rolling high enough to locate him by this point. Olympian flies through the streets at nearly subsonic speeds, and I narrowly avoid his rampage through my lab (After last time, I had learned that as long as my WUNDERFUL MIND survives, I'm okay, so I built a heli-bot into my suit that took my brain away faster than he could fly), and still no sign of the thug named Solomon.

And then he gets the call.

>> No.38054537

>>38054523
Olympian bursts through the roof of a hotel room filled with electronics and finds Solomon standing in front of him, not a glimmer of emotion on his face. The chat box is tense as the DM describes the room as dark and unremarkable save for the random webcameras strewn around the room. Olympian OOC tells the DM to shut up, and the chat goes silent for a moment.

Olympian launches into this description about how his fist is about to explode from anger and how he readies himself to kill Solomon with one punch.

And then Solomon turns the cameras on.
All around the city, televisions turn on and stream the confrontation, Solomon revealing in his hand that he's carrying a small button, a detonator. TO what? He explains, very calmly:
"In my hand is a detonation tool. Somewhere, in this city, a random room with a citizen will explode. And then, 30 seconds later, another one will. And then another. And so on, until this city is reduced into the largest graveyard the world will ever see. That happens if I press this button."

Olympian tries to move for it but Solomon continues:
"If you so much as touch me on this pressure plate, the detonator activates anyways, and the scenario plays out, so you stand there and look pretty while I talk a bit more."

Solomon doesn't rant, he just calmly watches Olympian cross his arms, obviously annoyed at the standstill.

"To your left, there is a container full of toxin. You are going to drink that or else I won't turn off the mechanism. Don't drink it, and I press the button, mechanism activates. Stop me from pressing the button, the mechanism activates. You leave, I press the button, and the mechanism activates."

>> No.38054583 [DELETED] 

>>38054537
"I'm not going to kill myself."

"It's for the city, hero."

The DM informs the group that another server activates, and starts streaming the terrible cruelty that Olympian had done to every television and news outlet, revealing every gruesome detail, every racial slur, every death they blamed on 'accidents'. Olympians super-hearing informs him that people are seeing him doing these terrible things, and now they're starting to think he's not so much a hero as he thought.

"You have one minute to choose. The City, or yourself."

Olympian smashes the toxins, and punches Solomon, impaling him with his fist and gutting him. Solomon smiles as his organs spill, and Olympian listens for the first explosion.

But it never comes.
There are no explosives.

Olympian picks up Solomon, who only has moments left to live, and demands to know what trickery this is.
Solomon then tells him that he can't kill Olympian, and he can't drop enough weight to crush him, so he did the next best things.

"I killed the city's faith in you. And now I'm dropping the world on you."
"You can't kill heroes, you're a villain."
"Then it's a good thing you're not a hero, you bastard."

Solomon died, and the setting's equivalent of the Justice League shows up to investigate what happened.
Olympian tries to charm his way around them, saying he had no choice, and that he would have had to kill himself to save the city and that Solomon would have blown it up anyways, but the League, and the DM by extension, is done with his routine. The league points out that there were no explosives, and that killing a man like that on live television was barbaric. When he argues the toxins again, the leader of the League asks him if he was vulnerable to toxins in such a small dosage, if vulnerable at all. And then they realize that his hand he used to smash it is covered not in some scientific experimental super-toxin, but a simple mixture of lemonade. He didn't try to roll perception on it.

>> No.38054613

>>38054537
"I'm not going to kill myself."

"It's for the city, hero."

The DM informs the group that another server activates, and starts streaming the terrible cruelty that Olympian had done to every television and news outlet, revealing every gruesome detail, every racial slur, every death they blamed on 'accidents'. Olympians super-hearing informs him that people are seeing him doing these terrible things, and now they're starting to think he's not so much a hero as he thought.

"You have one minute to choose. The City, or yourself."

Olympian smashes the toxins, and punches Solomon, impaling him with his fist and gutting him. Solomon smiles as his organs spill, and Olympian listens for the first explosion.

But it never comes.
There are no explosives.

Olympian picks up Solomon, who only has moments left to live, and demands to know what trickery this is.
Solomon then tells him that he can't kill Olympian, and he can't drop enough weight to crush him, so he did the next best things.

"I killed the city's faith in you. And now I'm dropping the world on you."
"You can't kill heroes, you're a villain."
"Then it's a good thing you're not a hero, you bastard."

Solomon died, and the setting's equivalent of the Justice League shows up to investigate what happened.
Olympian tries to charm his way around them, saying he had no choice, and that he would have had to kill himself to save the city and that Solomon would have blown it up anyways, but the League, and the DM by extension, is done with his routine. The league points out that there were no explosives, and that killing a man like that on live television was barbaric. When he argues the toxins again, the leader of the League asks him if he was vulnerable to toxins in such a small dosage, if vulnerable at all. And then they realize that his hand he used to smash it is covered not in some scientific experimental super-toxin, but a simple mixture of lemonade. He didn't try to roll perception on it.

>> No.38054643

>>38054613
Olympian then tries to argue that he has the right to protect people how he sees fit, but the League leader raises his hand to silence him, and then points to the screen behind him, showing him tossing the broken corpse of Doktor with a smile on his face.

The fight was brief, but in the end, no matter how powerful the Olympian is, he simply can't fight an army of superheroes by himself. The player left the game and the DM informed us Olympian is serving his life-long sentence on a super-dense giant that renders him as weak as a toddler, watched over by machines with lasers trained on him at all times. He has no chance for parole.

Doktor recovered Solomon's body, but he was already gone, and instead made him a memorial in his lair. The anti-vigilante force of police in the city continue their crusade to this day, and doctors try to find any way to prompt Adept back to normal from inside his padded cell (serving 40 to life for accessory, low security) and the town rips down the statue of Olympian that stood in the center of town after many agreed that he had risked the entire safety of the city for his own revenge.

When the game ended, Protocol was the only one who apologized for his behavior, Adept ignoring the chat and eventually leaving. When he asked Solomon why he didn't kill Olympian, Solomon responded with a very calm, calculated response:

"When someone sees a Hero, they don't care about the man. They care about the faith they have in him, his records. Killing Olympian still left him a hero. SO I did the next best. I killed the city's faith in him. Maybe this time, they can have a real hero, and not some monster with the right look about him."

And that's how a single thug defeated a world's Superman, Batman, Martian Manhunter.
I refuse to be play against him in any form to this day.

>> No.38054743

>>38039730
>jake dagger
Is the name a joke of some sort? Cause I don't get it.

>> No.38055123

>> No.38055137

>> No.38055174

>> No.38055300

My redhead fighter has a waifu.
She is pretty much a goddess.
I mean, seriously.
She or someone that looked like her, pulled out a deck of Many things, can apparently teleport practically at will, and is a Bard1/Fighter1 where the highest level is 3.
CHA 19, human, 5th edition.
it's implied that she killed her own father. She also, because of a fucking 5% chance of the dice, managed to get pregnant the first night they had sex. My char doesn't know this.
A main villain, however, had previously said some BS about "and you, (Character's name is Stark), are in the same prophecy(You will gain power, immortality, etc.) surrounded by a palace made out of gold, and beautiful celestial women."
Obviously, we told him to go fuck himself and killed the bastard.
So then we're in a city in the desert trying to find and kill my uncle (long story). Stark is wondering where Maya is. Then this happens,
>>"Maya this, Maya that...Talking about me like I'm not here!" suddenly you see her, >>Although you know she wasn't actually there before, you think it might be best to just let it be,
>>"But of course I want to come and protect my fool husband out there from the Tarphyrian sand whores..." she has the most intimidating look on her face as she says this to you, even though she is smiling.
>>Authentic Forum Dice-roll Intimidate to ALL ->>(1d20+7) [24] Just to show how terrifying his wife is.
So now I'm trying to decide whether I find my murderwaifu more or less sexy now. I am conflicted, /tg/.

>> No.38055402

>>38055123
>>38055123
this fucker was determined.

>> No.38055895

>>38054391
Sweet.

Does somebody have the screencap of the all-monk party rolling so badly when they meet that they kill themselves?

>> No.38055973

>>38055895

>> No.38057159

No britbongsteros anon?

For shame.

>> No.38057200

>>38031975
Holy fucking shit my never character concept.

>> No.38057293

>>38029890

>> No.38057503

Anybody has the story where a guy plays a LE Oracle with a cruciform sword. the character is incredibly racist and ends up killing an orc party member. at the end of the campaing he ascends to godhood and create a new plane with no magic and only humans that he calls earth? turns out hes the judeo-christian god.

>> No.38058311

>> No.38058745

>>38034757
TIL ''The Devils Comes Back to Georgia'' is a thing

>> No.38059472

>>38033724
Why are cats always such badasses in role-playing games?

>> No.38059640

>>38039973
Conceal...Don't feel...

>> No.38059953

>>38055137
That's pretty funny

>> No.38060863

>>38054391
Saved

Also, does anyone else have problems posting from their computer? I had to switch to my phone because reCAPTCHA doesn't work

>> No.38062892

bump

>> No.38063159

>>38029971
Did you save the fucking thumbnail?

>> No.38063177

>>38054643
That was quite possibly the most glorious thing I have ever read.

Please keep being awesome.

>> No.38063349

>>38057503
I can almost smell the edge from here.

>> No.38063639 [DELETED] 

>>38063177
Needs more jpeg!

>> No.38063670

I recently finished a game ending with the death of millions of humans, a couple thousand Astarte, and at least two Primarchs.

Overall, I'd say everything went about as well as expected.

>> No.38064727

>>38063349
only almost? it's overpowering over here.

>> No.38067297

>>38063670
>two Primarchs
I assume these were Traitor Primarchs? One of them had better have been Lorgar.

>> No.38067734

>>38030345
Usted puede ir a la mierda.

>> No.38068198

>>38035577
Bumping for interspecies shenanigans.

>> No.38068369

Anyone got the Ork conversion of "make a man out of you" ? I saved the thing but fucked up hard and got the thumbnail instead.

>> No.38068916

>>38030345
It's a Fawlty Towers reference, shithead.

>> No.38068952

Does anyone have the maid greentext with the character that turns into a scooter?

>> No.38068975

>>38068952

>> No.38072598

bump

>> No.38075144

>>38030345
Not if you live in California....

>> No.38075905

>> No.38077414

>>38033137
>“Boy let me tell you what! I bet you didn't know it, but I'm fiddle player too, and if you care to make a dare, I'll make a bet with you. Now, you play pretty good fiddle, boy, but give this Tiefling his due. I bet my party's gold, against the bridge toll to think I'm better than you.”

I never thought I'd hear a music story better than my party's bard playing the Nyancat song on his lute to distract half the town while I burned down a building.

>> No.38079883

>>38075144
Californian here, can confirm.

>> No.38079939

>>38029890
need help, can some please post the bozo the sad clown story?

>> No.38080134

>>38054391
>>38054413
>>38054435
>>38054451
>>38054494
>>38054523
>>38054537
>>38054613
>>38054643
>Anon that story fuckin moved me emotionally and philosophically... That was incredible. Could you do me a favor and thank Solomon for me?
Your story is already doing its work bearer of oc.
Godspeed.

>> No.38080378

>>38079939
Do you mean Bonzy the Sad Clown? The one from CoC?

>> No.38080486

>>38080378
thats the one man. you got it?

>> No.38080507

>>38080486
Dumping
1/3

>> No.38080517

>>38080486
>>38080507
2/3

>> No.38080530

>>38080486
>>38080507
>>38080517
3/3

>> No.38080548

>>38080486
>>38080507
>>38080517
>>38080530
bonus/3

The uncut, full version. Enjoy, anon.

>> No.38080555

>>38080507
>>38080517
>>38080530
many thanks. i'm just starting out collecting good /tg/ ones, but if you are looking for any i'll help if i can?

>> No.38080593

>>38080555
Appreciate it, but I can't think of any right now. I, too, am a collector of stories.

EDIT AS TYPING: Have the one from CoC about the house with the scary as BALLS photographs on the walls?

>> No.38080651

>>38080593
fraid not.
I have it myself, but out of curiosity, do you have Donovan the Unwilling?

>> No.38080696

>>38080651
Yes. I enjoy paladins immensely and I thought the story, while ending on a bittersweet note, was an excellent one overall.

If you enjoyed Donovan, then I think you'll enjoy this.

>> No.38080771

>>38080696
yeah, i don't know why people get shitty about them. i guess because a lot of that guys pick 'em?

>> No.38080800

>>38080771
It's because generally the concept of good/ evil and law/ order is subjective at it's best, and people don't like having their opinions invalidated (which to be fair is a hard thing to face, whether you're wrong or right it's difficult)

>> No.38080817

>>38080800

>> No.38080929

>>38080800
>>38080817
fair enough, but most games have to deal with alignments in some for right? as i may or may not have said, not a tabletopper myself

>> No.38082138

>>38068198
Sorry, only HFY I've got saved is this.

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