Fucking Awesome DnD Moments/Campaigns

[A Zarkin' Frood]

Originally Posted by EVILNess

[Here be text]

I love you. I wish I played any P&P RPGs so I could witness something as awesome as that first hand.

[Nikose Tyris]

These are the diaries of Julian Draylor. He's the bard in my D&D game.

I had just left Wheloon some days ago. I was there initially doing my usual thing; storytelling. I was also intrigued by the creation of this temple to Mystra. There had never been one here before, so I gathered what I could from the locals. It was just a curiosity to me and didn't investigate it further. What soon came to fascinate me though was 3 strangers whom had come into town. Now, usually this would only catch an interest to me in the chance to expand my craft and maybe earn some extra coin, but something about them struck me as odd. When I learned through the river of talk that they were also interested in the temple, my interest did expand but the unusualness of them kept me at bay. There was a cleric of Tempus as he so proudly declared, some dark dressed and almost menacingly quiet man, whom wore his blades like they were extentions of his very being, and finally a strange looking man whom was...well, I don't think there is any proper way of describing him. If it wasn't for the cleric, I would almost have guessed that the other two were planning a heist at the temple. And thats what struck me as terribly odd; a cleric of such a mighty and noble god working with these ruffians. But seeing I had exhausted myself here, and these men being rather silent to the locals about themselves, I took my leave of Wheloon and continued my life's journey. The life of a bard.

Unfortunately for me, some days out, traveling north-east I awoke one night to some dark forms hovering above me. Before I could call out everything became black and time had no meaning.

I awoke some time later, bound inside a large makeshift shelter. It was obvious I was a prisoner but to whom and why were still a mystery. After some time the flap was thrown back and came to be shadowed by a very large and angry looking orc. He said something to one of his subordinates in the orcish tongue. He then asked me in broken common who I was and why I had tresspassed into their home. He seemed surprised and impressed when I responded in perfect Orcish. When I told him who I was and what I do, he became very excited. He demanded proof of my ability or else I would die as any other trespasser would. So I began to recall to him a story about an orc chieftan by the name of Kessic when he suddenly grabbed me and brought me out into the light. I heard him barking out to his people to gather as my eye's adjusted to the light. When my vision cleared I saw gathered before me many warriors but also many woman and children orcs. I soon saw this was no warband that captured me, but a fledgling community. My heart softened to my captors. He then asked me to begin my story again so all could hear. When I had finished there were cries for more. The stories went long into the night and it became an impromptu party of sorts. they soon unbound me so I could be more animated in the storytelling, enhancing their splendor but also I could then provide many great songs for dancing and feasting. I even enormored myself to some females. By human standards they were quite ugly I suppose but in terms of orcs, they were certainly easier on the eyes. When the night was over and weariness began to set in, I thought I had certainly bought my freedom.

I was wrong.

Kessic said that because I knew of them, that I was too dangerous to let me go. I pleaded with him that I would tell no one of them, but he would hear none of it. I was bound once more and deposited back in the shelter. At first I hated my time in that tent. The days passing by without any meaning. But soon I came to accept the reality of my situation. And I found it wasn't that bad. I was safe in this shelter from the elements, and safe from predators and bandits by the orcs. I was well fed and was able to still practice my craft. I wanted to leave but it wasn't so bad a prison. These were not evil orcs and so I was content to wait until they finally set me free.
The two females would 'check' on me regularly. bringing me food and loosening my bonds to make sure they were not hurting me. Then one day, an elf was deposited in my tent. Everything changed after that.

His name was Sae'or, an elf from Evermeet. He told me that he and his companions were attacked on the road by the orcs. They must have suffered my fate as well, but I can only assume that unlike myself, they fought back. We talked for some time, the females came to check on me and left once more. Suddenly I noticed the flap on the tent move and there stood another stunning elf. I could tell right away by her dress that she was of the druidic order. Sae'or had calle out to her and she came to unbound him. It was with no small amount of pleasure that I took from their expressions as I casually stood up and all ropes fell from me. I was about to explain what was going on here when I was deafened by a horrible howl. The only thing worse than that howl were the screams that followed. The screams of the women; of the children. I pray to Oghma that I should never hear such a sound again. I burst from the tent and my horror was complete. All around me I saw them; the charred bodies of the orcs. All slaughtered. The agonized moans, the smell...It was unbearable. And then I saw it, the cause of all this death. A giant dragon-turtle. And perched atop was that same damn cleric of Tempus. How? How could a man who worshipped a god of honour slaughter so wantonly. When The world stopped spinning I managed to see in time Dorukhan charging at the cleric whom was no longer on his horrid mount. I ran between them and pleaded with Kessic to stop the fighting, that enough life had been lost. In disgust he threw down his weapon and withdrew with what was left of his clan. When they were gone I turned back to the cleric, hoping , searching for the reason for this. maybe it was a mistake, an accident..something. I asked him, "What kind of cleric of Tempus are you?" It chilled me so when he responded so coldly "I have no regrets".

That night I spent with that small band. I thanked them for the rescue they provided and came to learn the fate of the other two of the clerics origionally party and what fate had played out when I had left. The other two were a warmage by the name of Leoh and Toshi, a ranger whom had turned to a darker path. I learned of the cult to Shar, of the dragon Despair and the plot to destroy the weave and to leave in its place the shadow weave. It was truly a marvelous tale. Even the cleric sounded the hero that he should be. SO what happened? What happened to the cleric of Tempus to make him so vile? What turned him down this path? Where was the honour within him? Does it still exist? Can it be reclaimed? I hope so. For all Our sakes.

-Julien Draylor

Part II:

The next morning we arose and broke camp. The companions were making their way to the City of Splendors; Waterdeep. Naturally I chose to join them. And so together we set off.

We had little trouble getting past the front gate and once inside we made our way to the nearest inn. once settled we split up to accomplish what tasks we saw fit. The druid made her way to the port to bask in the salty ocean breeze. The WIzard, Sae'or made his way to a church of some sort, I'm sorry to say I wasn't paying much attention as I was swept away in the marvel of this city. The splendor, the sheer stories to be told and learned. The cleric Cyrus made his way to a temple of Tempus; his god.

For myself, I naturally made my way to a street corner, layed my hat upon the ground and proceeded to launch into a new story; the story of the companions and the tearing of the weave. Oh, the performance I made. It truly was one to be remembered. The finest I had ever done. When all was done and I began to pack up, a man approached me. He mention he was of the resident Bards guild and sayed he was amazed by performance and the fact he had never heard of me if I was that talented. and best of all, he offered me a membership to the guild. I was thrilled to say the least. I agreed on the spot. May Oghma continue to bless my path.

When we gathered later that evening we learned some disturbing news. Orcs were under siege by elves in the Moonsea region. That Tempus had put forth for Cyrus to prevent the Elvin victory and to aid the orcs. I could see the tention upon cyrus and sae'or's faces. Orcs are not favorable in Cyrus' eyes and these were Sae'or's own people. I knew that I would be needed for peace and morale. I was ready for that burden as well.

We left making our way east. We came to a great desert and began our quest. After some days in I saw the druid behave somewhat strangely. Suddenly, with a burst of power and light before us stood a sight I only dreamt I would witness: A blue Dragon!

It burst forth from the ground with a tremndous roar. As the battle began I used my knowledge of Bardism, called forth my lute and began a enchanting song to empower and strengthen my new companions. but things did not go well. I saw the pointlessness of it all and I did what I believed natural. I called out to the dragon in his own tongue, trying to convince him to spare us. Amazingly it worked! Now that is worthy of a tale I think. The dragon came down and stated firmly that we could go free but that our horses were forfeit. It was a steep proposal but now with no more hostilities I could appeal to the dragon and inprove our situation, but suddenly out of the unknown the cleric burst forth and attacked! I couldn't believe it. With such a tremendous roar as to shake the very foundations of the earth the dragon rose up and the assault began anew. With a resigned sigh and exasperation I cast a simple spell upon myself and fled. I did what I could and frankly my presence would be a hinderance to those around us in such violent chaos. I looked to my side and noticed the druid had also sent her horse to follow me so it would be safe. A noble action if I ever saw one.

Some time later the druid and wizard found me. I was torn by the fact that the cleric was not among them. They filled me in on what occurred. Of how the dragon came down upon Cyrus and crushing him utterly. I was beside myself; saddended that this once noble man would never be able to redeem himself to his god, and find the path of righteousness once more. We returned to the site of the battle. And amazingly there he was. Cyrus was up and walking with a strange man to the side talking to him. The strange man then left and Cyrus turned to us and I was horror struck. He was Undead! Whats worse is he denounced his god Tempus and Sae'or bade him to leave and that no perversion of nature would ever walk their path. I'm not sure what I saw on his face. was it saddness? Was it resignation? Hatred? Indifference? With his final act he turned to me, bowed low in respect and wished me well. I was touched. With my final parting gift to him I played tune for him of sorrow and majesty and respect as he walked from us until he could be seen no more.

What will become of him I wonder? With no god above him and no life within. And what of myself? and the elves? What is our course? Sae'or wishes to return to his people and take it to the orcs. I plead with him that there has to be a better way. That its my intention to try to bring peace. To end the fighting first. That there has to be some measure of hope. He has agreed to let me try. Oghma be with me and guide my words. I will not fail this world.

- Julien Draylor


--More to come as the story develops. I prefer letting the bard write this stuff lately, as my actual campaign notes are...

...hectic.

[krogothwolf]

So. We just had a fun little combat session last time. So we are out trying to find the evil we are chasing and are in pretty much a frontier settlement. It's having Wyvern problems and we wanted to make money so we stayed for the attack that they figured was coming as the Wyvern's just destroyed the next closest town.

This wasn't a really large settlement. It was a good settlement. Had an Inn/Tavern. A Town Hall. About 20 Houses. A Merchents Building. It also had a Church. That was Housing refugee's from a town that the Wyverns previously attacked.

We only had me and a sorcerer who could smack things from a distance as our fighter broke her bow. And the Hafling Monk doesn't really throw pebbles very effectively. So Me and the sorcerer started blasting things out of the sky. We we're doing pretty good as we felled about 5 before they got into range. We picked 2 injured ones and nuked em to hell as they started to dive. Problem was their momentum carried them forward and, well, they destroyed the church. Really destroyed the church. And killed the refugee's and the priest. So after the battle my Dwarf had to dig the bodies out and bury them or pretty much suffer a crisis of faith. He prayed for their souls, had a dream vision where Moradin told him it really wasn't his fault, he's a damn dwarf and no dwarf really understands momentum of flying things and he should direct the party into the first cave he finds in the mountains.

I'm seriously starting to love spells as I am seriously fucking things up. Creatures, People, Buildings, Towns, Farm land and a Forest.

[G.I.R.]

This actually happened this past March at MarsCon.

A friend of mine is an MIB for Steve Jackson games and was running a "Wierd West" campaign in GURPS. Yeah, okay, it's not D&D, but I happen to really enjoy the GURPS system.

So, here's the setup. If you've ever seen the John Wayne movie "Big Jake" then you know the premise of this story.

The grandchildren of a wealthy ranch owner are kidnapped by nefarious individuals and held for ransom. The old man brings in a retired marshal, a ranch hand(with bionic eye), a hot headed gunslinging woman and an indian pathfinder to handle the transfer of the ransom for the children.

The group we had playing has come together before at MarsCon the previous year for a different campaign and had worked well together, so we had high hopes for this mission.

I was playing the ranch hand turned rifleman, our only female gamer was playing the hot headed gunslinger, her husband was the pathfinder so on and so forth.

We receive instructions to take the money to a small town in Mexico where we would get further instructions as to where the exchange would be made. The trip was rather uneventful, but upon our arrival, we found the town we were in was less than friendly. Every bounty hunter and lowlife seemed to find their way there as they knew what we were carrying.

In light of this, myself and the marshal decided to rent 3 rooms in the local inn, all side by side on the 2nd floor. At my suggestion, we made holes in the 2 adjoining walls, large enough for the strong box to be moved through, and every hour we moved the box, as I figured they would come for it eventually.

While this was going on, our female companion went to the local bar to gather intel. As soon as she stepped to the bar, some guy tells her they don't serve her "kind" there. Well, that sets her off and they start to fighting. He has a friend whom she quickly dispatched with her pistol. She shoots the offending person in the leg to cripple him and then proceeded to stab him, with his own large knife, in the chest. He also, as it turns out, was the only person who we could have gotten reliable intel from had we interrogated him.

Whilst she is killing this guy and his friend, the outlaws set upon our rooms to get the box. One through each window, and 1 at each door, except the door they guess has the box(they guessed wrong). We end up killing all of them save one, who was wounded badly in a nice gun fight(we had been expecting the trouble and arranged the rooms accordingly.

After the fight, the indian followed the wounded man to an old Spanish mission in the desert and scouted the layout as best he could. Walled in with one single tower on the gate side, manned by a single sniper.

The next morning we receive instructions to take the money, the following day, to the mission about 5 miles away for the exchange. During our preparations, I found a local gun smith who could make some modifications to my Sharps 1874 .50 rifle(better scope and flash suppressor) as well as finding some materials to make a roughshod ghille suit.

Overnight, I made my way out to the mission while the others prepared to transport the money for the exchange. The plan was simple. I would, from extreme distance, take out the guard in the tower with my rifle(the bionic eye helped to extend my range with the rifle well outside of normal human ability), climb into the tower from outside and take his place, and cover my companions and assist them should the need arise when the exchange went down.

Simple enough, right?

I was able to take out the guard with my first shot and then made my way up into the tower like planned. The next morning, my companions arrived with the money to make the exchange as planned. When questioned to my whereabouts, they said I had been killed protecting the money. In the courtyard, upon their arrival, our villain steps out with the children, 7 other men, one of whom is wearing a "steampunkish" flamethrower.

As the negotiations begin to break down and things start going awry(as they always tend to do), guns started coming out and the marshal gave me the signal. I chose my target which happened to be the guy with the flamethrower and took my shot. The problem was this... with a .50 caliber rifle at that range, shots tend to go "through" people. Which it did. The shot went through my target and into the tank of the flamethrower.

The GM was forced to make up new rules for the explosion which occurred because he'd never seen such before. 20 dice for damage at the epicenter of the explosion and -1D for every hex moving in an outward circle. Every bad guy was within 2-3 hexes of the flamethrower and died a horrible flamey death.

My party made it out alive, barely. The marshal got the worst of it. When the shooting started, he threw himself on the children to protect them. The indian and gunslinger girl got thrown back into the wall and I was knocked back, out of the tower and fell 20 feet, only breaking my arm(also getting singed). If I had it to do all over again, I'd do it just the same. Almost a TPK, but not. The marshal got to kill the bad guy in the end and we saved the children.

Of course... none of us knew this, but the strong box was filled with paper. So we probably would have ended up dying had we just tried to do things the way they wanted us to. The old man had no money left, his ranch was failing.

[EVILNess]

Wow lots of good stories.

[Roland]

Man, I'm jealous of all you guys.

I've never had the chance to play DnD. Or really any tabletop game.

[Aerozord]

always doing it online, not as good but it gets around the problem of finding people

[Sithdarth]

You know what is really funny. Simply puncturing the tank with a bullet wouldn't have set of an explosion. The stuff would have just leaked out the holes and maybe caught on fire if the flamethrower had a pilot light. (The delay here would be enough for everyone to get much further away.) It would have been a decent fireball but nothing like what was described. Its a common misconception perpetrated by Hollywood that bullets plus flammable liquids in seal containers equal explosions. Its actually ludicrously difficult to ignite a tank full of flammable stuff even with an incendiary round.

That being said I really need to find someone willing to DM for me cause I want to play. I know other people that want to play at least online but no one seems to want to DM. Of course I also have to find time somewhere which isn't going to happen anytime soon. In short I miss RPing but I'm pretty much screwed for the next few months.

[EVILNess]

Originally Posted by Smarty McBarrelpants

Players are whatever alignment will currently hurt them. Players are your enemy.

You see I may be a Machiavellian bastard of a DM and player, but no the player is not the DM's enemy. Its not uncommon for a (competent) DM to fudge rolls to save a players life.

It's the DM's job to make sure everyone is having fun, but at the same time keep the game going at a smooth clip. Thats why I hate playing for rule monger DMs that insist everything happen as the dice lay.

I've never had any complaints from my players about fairness other than I severely punish stupidity and this tends to mean the players die a lot in my campaigns.

I have mentioned my utilitarian bend on DMing, when I make a death-trap, it makes mother fuckers be dead, and since adventuring parties go to lots of places with death-traps... well you get the idea.

Its something I am working on.

[Corel]

I have a feeling Smarty was joking, EVILness.

But thankyou for the suggestions! I've played the Planescape setting quite a bit in the past, so playing in not so metaphysical oriented campaigns and not think about such things can be difficult. Plus this:

Originally Posted by BitVyper

I mean really; why would any of us actually know whether heaven/Gaia/whatever considers us good or evil without being told?

As some deities can be pretty Lawful Stupid or Chaotic Jackass, and such.

For anyone interested in the Planescape setting, here's a compendium of it in 3.5 edition rules. Comes with fan made Player's hand book among other things.

Also as another random note: Does anyone else besides myself fiind their PC dieing hilarious? I mean I hardly remember characters that succeed but I do remember the one's that were horribly burninated.

Case in point: The entire Tomb of Horrors.