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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Piratecat" data-source="post: 1408234" data-attributes="member: 2">My first game in Boston was with a DM in his mid-thirties. I should have guessed that somethign was odd when he had plastic models of horses on display shelves all around his living room - the same kind my sister had growing up - and he was unmarried with no daughters. This guy loved horses so much that he had separate character sheets made for everyone's horse, and allowed them to be played like extra characters. I think I left that game when our 6th lvl characters slaughtered two mated green dragons in the space of three rounds. That doesn't compare to the high school game that almost put me off D&D for life. Our group had switched DMs, and the new DM allowed the old DM to run an antipaladin as a PC. He spent every game killing my character. No kidding - for five or six games in a row, I'd bring a new PC into the dungon, and this guy would kill me and take my stuff. Oh, except for one week when I got killed by mind flayers.Ahh, old times.  <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f600.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":D" title="Big grin    :D"  data-smilie="8"data-shortname=":D" />  The DM actually got in touch with me recently via classmates.com, and he doesn't remember any of my horrible and traumatic emotional scarring. Sniff.</blockquote>