[QUOTE=DiscoInferno;41102947]Still in the need for funnies, people.[/QUOTE]
Apparatus of Kwalish.
Rod of wonder
I mean TRPG funnypics or funny stories.
[QUOTE=DiscoInferno;41103274]I mean TRPG funnypics or funny stories.[/QUOTE]
Did I mention that during our last Exalted session I attacked a giant enemy crab and my lance got stuck, then I got flung 500 feet in to the air when someone attacked it/lit it on fire/electrocuted it?
Because that is a 100% true story.
[QUOTE=DiscoInferno;41103274]I mean TRPG funnypics or funny stories.[/QUOTE]
What 'bout the Second Destruction Of Chicago (or "Never Let Your Players Get Near Nuclear Bombs, Especially If They're Called Nerts")?
Or the CoC story where there was the size-changing cat and they obliterated the entire top floor of the mansion trying to kill it.
[QUOTE=M.Ciaster;41104619]What 'bout the Second Destruction Of Chicago (or "Never Let Your Players Get Near Nuclear Bombs, Especially If They're Called Nerts")?[/QUOTE]
And any story involving Blackbeard could only end well. Shame Ryan brutally murdered that campaign then never picked it up again. I was enjoying being Frederick von Beardington III.
so rearadmiral did a kind of practice combat session to get us prepped for spycraft this sunday, and 2nd decided to use the top-down sprite of Jacket from hotline miami as his token, and that got me realizing how awesome the sprites in that game would be for tokens
so now I'm precariously going through hotline miami taking good screenshots so i can cut out the sprites to use for cops and stuff
[QUOTE=Rats808;41104834]Or the CoC story where there was the size-changing cat and they obliterated the entire top floor of the mansion trying to kill it.[/QUOTE]
What idiot's group would be put against that thing?
[QUOTE=Nitrowing;40785669]Just had a rather interesting Call of Cthulhu session lately with Doomkiwi's group.
Some of the party members wake up in the group's designated base, the house of the elderly, occult-wielding woman, and they head downstairs to enjoy a light breakfast. As they dine, they notice that two of the group members are absent from the table; the party's Antonio Banderas ripoff, Tuco, decided to go upstairs to investigate.
He opened the door to find a large midnight-black cat staring directly into the eyes of his missing compatriot as he laid upon the bed like a corpse. With all the haste of a bloated snail in a muddy field, Tuco lazily waltzed over to attempt to push the cat off his bud only to find that the thing weighed far more than it looked and failed miserably. He succeeded on a second attempt and then managed to shove it inside a pillowcase before it could use its voodoo eyes on him. My character, Joe, remained frozen and in a near [I]cat[/I]atonic state on the bed. Tuco then began to swing the hissing and thrashing pillowcase against the walls and furniture in the room, taking great care to break everything that I owned at the time.
Meanwhile in the kitchenette downstairs, everyone is turned toward the stairs from where they can hear the screaming of a cat, the cursing of an angry Antonio Banderas, and a gratuitous amount of the sound of things breaking - the owner of the house just shook her head and sighed. So the old lady and our dear Native American friend, Achuu (who i believe was mentioned in a prior story in this thread), went upstairs to assist Tuco with a bag full of raging feline. Joe, at this point, is still catatonic. The bag begun to shift and warp, increasing in weight at a rapid pace, soon Tuco was unable to hold the bag and all watched as a fully-grown, really-pissed-off panther tore its way out of what remained of the sack.
In a single bound, it pounced at Achuu (who was still recovering from a severe bullet wound from the night before) and they watched as it tore apart his chest with its razor-sharp claws knocking him out for what would be the last time. A swift blow to the head by the old lady sent the panther sprawling followed by a round of buckshot from Tuco seemingly killed the beast. The pair of them then dropped their weapons and tried to stabilize Achuu only to watch as his lifeblood seeped away into the hardwood floors of the house. Trying to hold back tears (or laughter in the witch's case), Tuco went to revive Joe from his state. After waking him and giving a brief explanation and an even briefer (far more snarky) eulogy for Achuu, the gang began to decide what to do with the bodies. It was at this point the "cat" started twitching and growing again.
The others looked on in horror at this beast which "[I]would not die[/I]" while Joe ran back into his room while shouting:
"Hold on, guys. I got this! Stand back!"
He returned from his closet carrying a bizarre rifle-shaped device (which he had never used or seen used before), which he had acquired from the group's last grand adventure as a memento. Had Joe been a little smarter or known that he was a character in Call of Cthulhu, he might have wisely chosen not to fire the Yithian Lightning Gun without testing it first. Joe, however, was not all that bright and did not happen to break the fourth wall that day.
He fired the poorly-maintained weapon and rolled a 97 on a 1d100. The GM just started whimpering. Joe, Tuco, the gun, Achuu's corpse, and the upper floor of this fancy downtown San Francisco home were completely obliterated in a blinding white flash of energy and light.
...
"Hey, on the bright side... At least you killed the cat," quipped Tuco's player.[/QUOTE]
The aforementioned CoC thing with the size-changing cat.
[QUOTE=Rats808;41106293]The aforementioned CoC thing with the size-changing cat.[/QUOTE]
Gee that DM is a fucking idiot.
[QUOTE=DiscoInferno;41102947]Still in the need for funnies, people.[/QUOTE]
In our Wednesday D&D game, Fargus the ratfolk fighter was carrying around an empty chest called the "Box of Regret". We were wandering around a super dungeon, trying to rescue a princess from some tieflings.
Down this long hallway, there's a bunch of chests. We suspect they're all mimics, and we're right---but the mimics, for some reason, talk. And have sapience. And aren't initially hostile to us.
Tonin, our party ranger who is Lawful Evil thanks to a cursed crown he wore, decides to begin shooting up the intelligent mimics. Iggy, our dragon rider, decides to piss off one of the more belligerent mimics. In a desperate attempt to make things right, Fargus takes out the Box of Regret and begins to make it where the inanimate box was, in fact, a mimic.
The mimics bought it, in fact the belligerent mimic believed the Box of Regret was his father. When Fargus failed a second Bluff check, however, the mimic noticed the ratman operating his father. "Who's that behind you, father?"
"Don't pay attention to the ratman holding me up and animating me, son. He's my...uh...servant." I want to remind you that the Box of Regret is not magical in any way. Fargus is saying all of this.
Bluff check succeeds.
"Oh. Ok then."
So Fargus/Box of Regret promises the sentient mimics "the promised land", which was the previous room. But Tonin wanted to kill them, because evil. Fargus now had to make a difficult decision: command an army of mimics and kill his teammate, or let his ranger friend kill the mimics?
The rest of us were up ahead in the hallway. I, a ninja, had just discovered a trap and was finishing up briefing the rest of the group. Behind us, the ranger takes care of the mimics. Fargus walks up to us, a single tear in his eye.
"You all right?" Izumi, my character, asks.
"I don't want to talk about it," Fargus replied. He still has the Box of Regret.
[QUOTE=LiquidNazgul;41107012]In our Wednesday D&D game, Fargus the ratfolk fighter was carrying around an empty chest called the "Box of Regret". We were wandering around a super dungeon, trying to rescue a princess from some tieflings.
Down this long hallway, there's a bunch of chests. We suspect they're all mimics, and we're right---but the mimics, for some reason, talk. And have sapience. And aren't initially hostile to us.
Tonin, our party ranger who is Lawful Evil thanks to a cursed crown he wore, decides to begin shooting up the intelligent mimics. Iggy, our dragon rider, decides to piss off one of the more belligerent mimics. In a desperate attempt to make things right, Fargus takes out the Box of Regret and begins to make it where the inanimate box was, in fact, a mimic.
The mimics bought it, in fact the belligerent mimic believed the Box of Regret was his father. When Fargus failed a second Bluff check, however, the mimic noticed the ratman operating his father. "Who's that behind you, father?"
"Don't pay attention to the ratman holding me up and animating me, son. He's my...uh...servant." I want to remind you that the Box of Regret is not magical in any way. Fargus is saying all of this.
Bluff check succeeds.
"Oh. Ok then."
So Fargus/Box of Regret promises the sentient mimics "the promised land", which was the previous room. But Tonin wanted to kill them, because evil. Fargus now had to make a difficult decision: command an army of mimics and kill his teammate, or let his ranger friend kill the mimics?
The rest of us were up ahead in the hallway. I, a ninja, had just discovered a trap and was finishing up briefing the rest of the group. Behind us, the ranger takes care of the mimics. Fargus walks up to us, a single tear in his eye.
"You all right?" Izumi, my character, asks.
"I don't want to talk about it," Fargus replied. He still has the Box of Regret.[/QUOTE]
i bet he regrets that decision
[QUOTE=elowin;41107132]i bet he regrets that decision[/QUOTE]
It was called the Box of Regret because Fargus sprang a very obvious trap to get to the chest and opened it. "Nothing is inside" the DM said. "Nothing but regrets."
"I take the Box full of my regrets."
Also, paralell to what people are calling "The Red Wedding", we have called, "The Unboxing", in memory of those mimics slayed by our Lawful Evil ranger.
[QUOTE=Rats808;41103334]Did I mention that during our last Exalted session I attacked a giant enemy crab and my lance got stuck, then I got flung 500 feet in to the air when someone attacked it/lit it on fire/electrocuted it?
Because that is a 100% true story.[/QUOTE]
was it a historical Japanese battle?
Trapped on an exploding space station in Dark Heresy, the party found themselves in a corridor when a piece of the exploded trading vessel [i]The Emperor's Holy Word[/i] collided with the station, breaching the corridor and causing decompression as well as potentially dealing 1d100 explosive damage to one unlucky character. To be completely impartial I decided to assign each player a number and then roll a 1d4 to determine who it was that'd need to roll to try and dodge the explosion.
"Darkreign, you're 1."
"I want to be 2."
"Are you sure? It makes literally zero difference."
"I want to be 2."
I caved and let Dark be 2. Janus was 1, Trooper was 3 and Funk was 4. Then it came to the roll.
I rolled a 2.
[QUOTE=Rats808;41103334]Did I mention that during our last Exalted session I attacked a giant enemy crab and my lance got stuck, then I got flung 500 feet in to the air when someone attacked it/lit it on fire/electrocuted it?
Because that is a 100% true story.[/QUOTE]
In my first session of a paper and pen game I kicked a dog so hard it exploded.
There was also the time in Dark Heresy when the party found the equivalent of a 17th Century Cannon in the hold of a Rogue Trader's starship, complete with powder and cannon balls.
Thankfully they succeeded a demolitions test and didn't overuse the powder otherwise the thing would've exploded taking them with it. Can't say the mutant they were firing out came out of it unharmed as well.
[editline]20th June 2013[/editline]
Or the time our assassin shot at a priest who was wearing a bomb vest (which the party wasn't aware of), the shot hit him in the chest and I rolled to see if it struck the vest. It did and blew up two members of the party.
[editline]20th June 2013[/editline]
Or the time they broke the arm of a mutant which then fell to the floor howling in pain (at this point it was effectively dead). The party then gathered around it and [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eF8c3BjFWsw]spent a couple of minutes punching and kicking it to death.[/url]
[editline]20th June 2013[/editline]
Dark Heresy is fun
I'm off for my third game as DM in 30 minutes, however one of the players is unable to show. Should I put in the effort to work him out of the story for a single session? If so, how?
My first-ever dnd game I did a running leap to attack an orc that had scaled the walls of a castle.
I went flying past thanks to dice and had to grab the ladder he'd just used to keep from falling over the edge
[QUOTE=RearAdmiral;41110157]Trapped on an exploding space station in Dark Heresy, the party found themselves in a corridor when a piece of the exploded trading vessel [i]The Emperor's Holy Word[/i] collided with the station, breaching the corridor and causing decompression as well as potentially dealing 1d100 explosive damage to one unlucky character. To be completely impartial I decided to assign each player a number and then roll a 1d4 to determine who it was that'd need to roll to try and dodge the explosion.
"Darkreign, you're 1."
"I want to be 2."
"Are you sure? It makes literally zero difference."
"I want to be 2."
I caved and let Dark be 2. Janus was 1, Trooper was 3 and Funk was 4. Then it came to the roll.
I rolled a 2.[/QUOTE]
Don't forget that my character essentially said fuck you physics at that moment, where with a broken leg she hauled herself to the airlock, past two people who failed their checks and were unwounded.
[QUOTE=RearAdmiral;41111803]Can't say the mutant they were firing out came out of it unharmed as well.
Or the time they broke the arm of a mutant which then fell to the floor howling in pain (at this point it was effectively dead). The party then gathered around it and [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eF8c3BjFWsw]spent a couple of minutes punching and kicking it to death.[/url][/QUOTE]
My Rogue Trader character is a mutant. ;(
By the end of the game he had 30 wounds. Rolled max wounds in character gen, and got +5 for his Hulking mutation. (He was 12 feet tall.) Ended up taking Sound Constitution 10 times.
[QUOTE=Asgard;41112307]I'm off for my third game as DM in 30 minutes, however one of the players is unable to show. Should I put in the effort to work him out of the story for a single session? If so, how?[/QUOTE]
Honestly just don't even bring the character up. If you don't include/mention them at all, most players are willing to suspend disbelief. It takes no effort, and lets you focus on entertaining the players who are actually there.
Does anybody know any good roleplaying games for beginners for only 2 players or which can also be nicely played with 2 players.
Most RPG games are best played in groups.
[QUOTE=Asgard;41112307]I'm off for my third game as DM in 30 minutes, however one of the players is unable to show. Should I put in the effort to work him out of the story for a single session? If so, how?[/QUOTE]
We either do a quick hand wave depending on the location, or just completely ignore them. Sometimes the character will fall asleep in the vehicle, other times stay behind to guard a door, or just not show up and not go with the rest of the party.
I think pretty much all games recommend at least 3 players, otherwise you have a single-player game with the other person reading you a story about what happens.
That or you have a non-tabletop game.
[QUOTE=Rats808;41118396]I think pretty much all games recommend at least 3 players, otherwise you have a single-player game with the other person reading you a story about what happens.
That or you have a non-tabletop game.[/QUOTE]
single player games can be pretty fun if done right.
[QUOTE=RearAdmiral;41111803]There was also the time in Dark Heresy when the party found the equivalent of a 17th Century Cannon in the hold of a Rogue Trader's starship, complete with powder and cannon balls.
Thankfully they succeeded a demolitions test and didn't overuse the powder otherwise the thing would've exploded taking them with it. Can't say the mutant they were firing out came out of it unharmed as well.
[editline]20th June 2013[/editline]
Or the time our assassin shot at a priest who was wearing a bomb vest (which the party wasn't aware of), the shot hit him in the chest and I rolled to see if it struck the vest. It did and blew up two members of the party.
[editline]20th June 2013[/editline]
Or the time they broke the arm of a mutant which then fell to the floor howling in pain (at this point it was effectively dead). The party then gathered around it and [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eF8c3BjFWsw]spent a couple of minutes punching and kicking it to death.[/url]
[editline]20th June 2013[/editline]
Dark Heresy is fun[/QUOTE]
that thing spooked our guts, it deserved nothing but a slow, painful death via boot
A while back our group played Only War. We had a pretty stock unit, a sergeant, a marksman, an armsmaster, and a Commissar. I was playing the commissar.
So we had to go to this place with tanks and tanks of that oil stuff in 40k (I completely forgot what it was called, so it's going to be called "oil stuff") and we couldn't use traditional weaponry because, y'know, oil stuff is KIND OF flammable and we'd 'splode everything. The arms master went to use the mounted lascannon on the vehicle we had, but he critically failed and broke the fucking thing as well as his arms.
The marksman was the only one trained in first-aid AND las weaponry, so he had to tend to the armsmaster's fucked up arms, or else his multiple compound fractures would make him bleed out. (House rules yo)
Since every other weapon we had were bolters or explosives, we couldn't do shit.
Until I said "Okay you worthless filth pots, move over and let me drive this thing!"
I drove over every single ork.
All of them.
I rolled crit after crit.
All that was left was just piles of blood and chunks after I pretty much steamrolled every single ork in sight.
So the DM was getting pissed at me pretty much one shotting everything with the fucking vehicle. So he said "after multiple cases of vehicular orkslaughter, the transport breaks down."
Fuck.
Then from one of the barracks, bursts an ork warboss.
Double fuck.
Behind him there are a shit load of fuel tanks.
[b]"WUT YOU GUNNA DO!? SHOOT ME UHND 'SPLODE DA HOLE PLASE!? AHAHAHAH!"[/b]
I throw the spare tire at him.
I crit.
DM gets pissed "No! You have to roll three crits to do it!"
I fucking do it.
Warboss dies instantly.
I flick the ashes from my pipe on his corpse.
DM leaves table and doesn't come back for like a half hour.
And so, Commissar Maximo Doomtires was born.
shiet dawg
[QUOTE=Katatonic717;41121269]A while back our group played Only War. We had a pretty stock unit, a sergeant, a marksman, an armsmaster, and a Commissar. I was playing the commissar.
So we had to go to this place with tanks and tanks of that oil stuff in 40k (I completely forgot what it was called, so it's going to be called "oil stuff") and we couldn't use traditional weaponry because, y'know, oil stuff is KIND OF flammable and we'd 'splode everything. The arms master went to use the mounted lascannon on the vehicle we had, but he critically failed and broke the fucking thing as well as his arms.
The marksman was the only one trained in first-aid AND las weaponry, so he had to tend to the armsmaster's fucked up arms, or else his multiple compound fractures would make him bleed out. (House rules yo)
Since every other weapon we had were bolters or explosives, we couldn't do shit.
Until I said "Okay you worthless filth pots, move over and let me drive this thing!"
I drove over every single ork.
All of them.
I rolled crit after crit.
All that was left was just piles of blood and chunks after I pretty much steamrolled every single ork in sight.
Oh! I forgot the last part!
So the DM was getting pissed at me pretty much one shotting everything with the fucking vehicle. So he said "after multiple cases of vehicular orkslaughter, the transport breaks down."
Fuck.
Then from one of the barracks, bursts an ork warboss.
Double fuck.
Behind him there are a shit load of fuel tanks.
[b]"WUT YOU GUNNA DO!? SHOOT ME UHND 'SPLODE DA HOLE PLASE!? AHAHAHAH!"[/b]
I throw the spare tire at him.
I crit.
DM gets pissed "No! You have to roll three crits to do it!"
I fucking do it.
Warboss dies instantly.
I flick the ashes from my pipe on his corpse.
DM leaves table and doesn't come back for like a half hour.
And so, Commissar Maximo Doomtires was born.[/QUOTE]
still not as cool as [url]http://1d4chan.org/wiki/The_Guy_Who_Cried_Grendel[/url]
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