Well, first off, I’d like to point out that this story has nothing whatsoever to do with game design. I was simply too lazy to change the title of my column.
Everyone who plays RPGs for a certain length of time seems to have a favorite ‘war story’. This one is mine. If anyone else has a favorite moment they recall from their RPG days of yore, feel free to share it.
It all started when I took a rare break from being the GM. I’m an egotistical, perfectionistic, control freak so this was a pretty unusual event. It so happens that my GM turned out to be a DM. This DM also felt like running basic Dungeons and Dragons so I ended up digging out my old red book and going to town on creating a character. For whatever reasons, I ended up with a wizard. On top of that, I rolled a 1 for hit points. Thinking this character was doomed to be completely useless—and more than likely dead—I equipped him with a single magic missile spell instead of something potentially useful like Sleep or Charm Person. In case anyone doesn’t remember, Charm Person used to have the potential to let you mind control people for weeks on end. In comparison, Magic Missile at first level did 1d4+1 damage, or roughly the damage of a single sword swing.
Lo and behold, my incredibly weak wizard, whom I named Thodar Thunderer for the alliteration, was the only brave adventurer in his party; no other players being around or interested in the game at the time. With a staff which did the damage of a dagger—1d4—I couldn’t really blame the other heroes for not coming along. My sense of impending doom increased. Perhaps it was best to hope for a quick death and start warming up my d6s for a new fighter.
The adventure started out pretty peacefully, at first. There was a small village which appeared to have no problems whatsoever. As an adventurer, I sought out danger and peril immediately with the tiny hint of reward in the back of my mind. On my way to seek out this fabulous wealth and danger I spotted a broom made of solid gold leaning against the door to another wizard’s tower. Doing some quick math, I figured he was at least 9th level to be able to afford to build such a great stronghold. Given the crazy economy of levels in basic D&D this also probably meant he was so filthy stinking rich he wouldn’t miss his broom.
In the grand spirit of ‘Chaotic even though I’m Lawful’, and given that I was more than likely going to die at the hands of a goblin anyway; I decided to steal the other wizard’s broom. This was not a wise decision. As soon as I clutched it, a voice like thunder boomed out. I didn’t bother to listen to what he was saying as I knew full well what was coming. The very next moment a 30th level mage had teleported directly in front of me and was preparing what was probably a 9th level death spell I had no chance to survive.
A voice on high had informed me of the levels.
I immediately challenged him to a dual of wits with only intelligence playing a factor and not magic. The wizard wanted a game of chess, but I managed to yell at him so much that he became confused and left. Marvelling at my luck, I wandered off with the golden broom. My sense of trepidation had been replaced by awe at what can be accomplished with pure role-playing and yelling loudly.
With this new perspective on life, Thodar headed out into the world with a new attitude. He charged high prices, yelled loudly, and attacked from behind. When he had to storm the castle of a villain, he merely pushed all his enemies off of high walls seeing as his staff did so little damage. This tactic proved surprisingly effective, and he used it on many occasions. It wasn’t long before Thodar became more of a legend than a joke. Though he never gained many levels or attained any real ‘power’ his feats of skill and daring reflected a personality that wouldn’t take no for an answer. Despite the dual handicaps of being an old cripple and not having any magic—Thodar thrived.
Though I’m a bit hazy on the details now, the Tale of Thodar remains one of my favorites. The DM of that game merely smiles and shakes his head, but I’m always proud to tell the tale. Thodar’s inaugural deed wasn’t very heroic, but it was pretty funny at the time.
While I’m thinking back, there are a couple other stories which come to mind. All of them totally unrelated, of course.
Another wizard, 3rd edition this time, used to wear a spiked metal gauntlet and punch all his enemies to deliver automatic touch attack spells. On re-reading the Player’s Handbook I quickly discovered this was completely against the rules, but it was quite fun at the time. He also used his wealth to buy a wand of fireballs which was used, a lot. Though a wand of fireballs might not seem tactically the best purchase, it’s almost always worth it. Having 50 large, fiery detonations at your instant disposal tends to be handy to no ends.
In one strange adventure, I recall some creature peeing lava on the party. I think one character nearly died from it.
For reasons I can’t recall, my character and a friend were falling through the atmosphere of the planet and about to hit the surface and die. I’m not entirely sure why we didn’t burn up on re-entry. That said, I’m not sure how we got that high in the first place. My character turned to the other (who was screaming) and pulled a sausage out of his pack. “I’m hungry. Do you want a sausage?” were his last words. That is, before some fairies came and did a deus ex machina on the plot by floating us both down.
One of my players once had a dwarf who was honor-bound to eat his dead brother for some sacred reason. Everyone else in the party thought he was totally off his nut and gross to boot.
Upon finding a strangely deserted village, one of my players decided to loot the place for magic items rather than find the problem and fix it. I’m not sure why I didn’t expect that, really. She ended up eventually saving the town from evil, but managed to hang on to her 10 magic rings giving her a whole range of magical powers which made her nearly unstoppable.
Given the task to guard a ship on a maiden voyage, my players instantly tried to kick out the captain and first mate to gain control of the ship. Having gained control of the ship, they set it on its original course to find new land. When they found new land, the captain of the ship (one of my players) absolutely refused to set foot on the island because there was a volcano there. She explained that they would somehow become trapped on the island and then the volcano would be about to erupt. I offered to remove the volcano, but she said the island would have to be part of the mainland. I offered to make it part of the mainland without a volcano. She decided that the island was an obvious trap. The entire campaign died then and there. To this day, we still fight over the island with the volcano. Just so everyone knows, yes, the volcano was a trap. I still argue that their characters didn’t know that, right?
I think my highest level character ever was Valamar. He was one of the only characters I ever played that wasn’t lawful good. For some reason, I always play lawful good characters. The reason being was that a Hexblade couldn’t be lawful good so I had to settle for neutral good or something like that. I don’t know if that was a factor in his success or not, but I immediately set about hexing bad guys and stealing as much treasure as possible. Soon I had both magic and swordsmanship, a castle, lands, a standard wand of fireballs, a wand of nuclear-bomb-type fireballs, a cloak of charisma +32, and a few other nice toys. His sword was a +4, Vorpal, Keen, Frost blade.
I always argued that +32 bonus to Charisma should make people do whatever you say. My DM always used to argue that it just made me look cool. The debate still isn’t over on that one.
The culmination of his career was when the DM got fed up and had him teleported to an alternate dimension filled with 1,000-foot-tall giants who wanted nothing better than to squish humans with Cloaks of Charisma. The DM argued that I had been squished and died. I argued that I flew off and shot back a few nuke-sized fireballs to wipe out the giants. The campaign died there. I don’t really mind. I figure once you get a few too many magic items it might be time to call it quits anyway. Besides, I wanted to get back to being the GM so I could control the game more thoroughly. As everyone knows, GMs can have as many wands of fireballs as they want.
I hope you enjoyed my ramblings. If you have any strange tales of your own, feel free to share them!
Everyone who plays RPGs for a certain length of time seems to have a favorite ‘war story’. This one is mine. If anyone else has a favorite moment they recall from their RPG days of yore, feel free to share it.
It all started when I took a rare break from being the GM. I’m an egotistical, perfectionistic, control freak so this was a pretty unusual event. It so happens that my GM turned out to be a DM. This DM also felt like running basic Dungeons and Dragons so I ended up digging out my old red book and going to town on creating a character. For whatever reasons, I ended up with a wizard. On top of that, I rolled a 1 for hit points. Thinking this character was doomed to be completely useless—and more than likely dead—I equipped him with a single magic missile spell instead of something potentially useful like Sleep or Charm Person. In case anyone doesn’t remember, Charm Person used to have the potential to let you mind control people for weeks on end. In comparison, Magic Missile at first level did 1d4+1 damage, or roughly the damage of a single sword swing.
Lo and behold, my incredibly weak wizard, whom I named Thodar Thunderer for the alliteration, was the only brave adventurer in his party; no other players being around or interested in the game at the time. With a staff which did the damage of a dagger—1d4—I couldn’t really blame the other heroes for not coming along. My sense of impending doom increased. Perhaps it was best to hope for a quick death and start warming up my d6s for a new fighter.
The adventure started out pretty peacefully, at first. There was a small village which appeared to have no problems whatsoever. As an adventurer, I sought out danger and peril immediately with the tiny hint of reward in the back of my mind. On my way to seek out this fabulous wealth and danger I spotted a broom made of solid gold leaning against the door to another wizard’s tower. Doing some quick math, I figured he was at least 9th level to be able to afford to build such a great stronghold. Given the crazy economy of levels in basic D&D this also probably meant he was so filthy stinking rich he wouldn’t miss his broom.
In the grand spirit of ‘Chaotic even though I’m Lawful’, and given that I was more than likely going to die at the hands of a goblin anyway; I decided to steal the other wizard’s broom. This was not a wise decision. As soon as I clutched it, a voice like thunder boomed out. I didn’t bother to listen to what he was saying as I knew full well what was coming. The very next moment a 30th level mage had teleported directly in front of me and was preparing what was probably a 9th level death spell I had no chance to survive.
A voice on high had informed me of the levels.
I immediately challenged him to a dual of wits with only intelligence playing a factor and not magic. The wizard wanted a game of chess, but I managed to yell at him so much that he became confused and left. Marvelling at my luck, I wandered off with the golden broom. My sense of trepidation had been replaced by awe at what can be accomplished with pure role-playing and yelling loudly.
With this new perspective on life, Thodar headed out into the world with a new attitude. He charged high prices, yelled loudly, and attacked from behind. When he had to storm the castle of a villain, he merely pushed all his enemies off of high walls seeing as his staff did so little damage. This tactic proved surprisingly effective, and he used it on many occasions. It wasn’t long before Thodar became more of a legend than a joke. Though he never gained many levels or attained any real ‘power’ his feats of skill and daring reflected a personality that wouldn’t take no for an answer. Despite the dual handicaps of being an old cripple and not having any magic—Thodar thrived.
Though I’m a bit hazy on the details now, the Tale of Thodar remains one of my favorites. The DM of that game merely smiles and shakes his head, but I’m always proud to tell the tale. Thodar’s inaugural deed wasn’t very heroic, but it was pretty funny at the time.
While I’m thinking back, there are a couple other stories which come to mind. All of them totally unrelated, of course.
Another wizard, 3rd edition this time, used to wear a spiked metal gauntlet and punch all his enemies to deliver automatic touch attack spells. On re-reading the Player’s Handbook I quickly discovered this was completely against the rules, but it was quite fun at the time. He also used his wealth to buy a wand of fireballs which was used, a lot. Though a wand of fireballs might not seem tactically the best purchase, it’s almost always worth it. Having 50 large, fiery detonations at your instant disposal tends to be handy to no ends.
In one strange adventure, I recall some creature peeing lava on the party. I think one character nearly died from it.
For reasons I can’t recall, my character and a friend were falling through the atmosphere of the planet and about to hit the surface and die. I’m not entirely sure why we didn’t burn up on re-entry. That said, I’m not sure how we got that high in the first place. My character turned to the other (who was screaming) and pulled a sausage out of his pack. “I’m hungry. Do you want a sausage?” were his last words. That is, before some fairies came and did a deus ex machina on the plot by floating us both down.
One of my players once had a dwarf who was honor-bound to eat his dead brother for some sacred reason. Everyone else in the party thought he was totally off his nut and gross to boot.
Upon finding a strangely deserted village, one of my players decided to loot the place for magic items rather than find the problem and fix it. I’m not sure why I didn’t expect that, really. She ended up eventually saving the town from evil, but managed to hang on to her 10 magic rings giving her a whole range of magical powers which made her nearly unstoppable.
Given the task to guard a ship on a maiden voyage, my players instantly tried to kick out the captain and first mate to gain control of the ship. Having gained control of the ship, they set it on its original course to find new land. When they found new land, the captain of the ship (one of my players) absolutely refused to set foot on the island because there was a volcano there. She explained that they would somehow become trapped on the island and then the volcano would be about to erupt. I offered to remove the volcano, but she said the island would have to be part of the mainland. I offered to make it part of the mainland without a volcano. She decided that the island was an obvious trap. The entire campaign died then and there. To this day, we still fight over the island with the volcano. Just so everyone knows, yes, the volcano was a trap. I still argue that their characters didn’t know that, right?
I think my highest level character ever was Valamar. He was one of the only characters I ever played that wasn’t lawful good. For some reason, I always play lawful good characters. The reason being was that a Hexblade couldn’t be lawful good so I had to settle for neutral good or something like that. I don’t know if that was a factor in his success or not, but I immediately set about hexing bad guys and stealing as much treasure as possible. Soon I had both magic and swordsmanship, a castle, lands, a standard wand of fireballs, a wand of nuclear-bomb-type fireballs, a cloak of charisma +32, and a few other nice toys. His sword was a +4, Vorpal, Keen, Frost blade.
I always argued that +32 bonus to Charisma should make people do whatever you say. My DM always used to argue that it just made me look cool. The debate still isn’t over on that one.
The culmination of his career was when the DM got fed up and had him teleported to an alternate dimension filled with 1,000-foot-tall giants who wanted nothing better than to squish humans with Cloaks of Charisma. The DM argued that I had been squished and died. I argued that I flew off and shot back a few nuke-sized fireballs to wipe out the giants. The campaign died there. I don’t really mind. I figure once you get a few too many magic items it might be time to call it quits anyway. Besides, I wanted to get back to being the GM so I could control the game more thoroughly. As everyone knows, GMs can have as many wands of fireballs as they want.
I hope you enjoyed my ramblings. If you have any strange tales of your own, feel free to share them!
