The GM is an idiot

[chrono]

Ey! Get a grip.
Drek yells out and waves his (somewhat stubby) hands.
I'm flattered and all, but... Do you think this here halfling can down eight beers? Come on, I had a few last night and I still can't find my damn keys! Not to mention I can't remember that redhead's name let alone where she lives! It ain't easy being this lightfoot, let me tell you that.
So since I'm pretty sure we'll be going in a bit, I'll just tell you a short story and we'll leave the epic for later like I promised, OK?

The halfling sits down again and plays a soft tune, and starts telling the story of a calm small town just outside a deep and mystical forest. The people there worked hard and lived more or less happy lives, trying to make the best of it and help the town grow. One day a professional barber and also traveling salesman (working on the side, you know *wink*) arrived at the town, liked it very much and decided to stay. The people were overjoyed, since only civilized towns could boast with a population that gives a damn about their beard's trimming. Also in small towns you went to the market to buy junk. In modern towns junk was brought straight to your door for a nominal fee (or so the barber said).
So people tried to befriend the newcomer, going to his home buying his murky brews. They had some effect, that's for sure as people felt stronger and fitter after drinking them. It was strange that their skin grew pale and their eyes sank more and more, but the barber said it was fashionable in the big city, so people were even happier. Few went in the bars and taverns and fewer still heeded the words of the wise bards telling them to stop the madness or at least run far away.
So one full moon when the wolfbane bloomed, the pale townsfolk suddenly felt ill and died instantly. But they didn't stay dead for long - they arose as ghouls to feast on the flesh of their former families. The townsfolk got to arms...
*insert detailed bardic account of heroic fight and lots of blood and torn limbs*
Just when it seemed that the villagers were winning, out came the barber and struck them down with a razor sharp blade and flaming potions. He tore the beating hearts out of his victims and put them in his salesman bag. He was then seen leaving the town and as he did the ghouls collapsed, but their souls stayed to haunt the town forever!
One bard heard the salesman sing a dreadful song that could not be repeated as it would drive a lesser man insane. But the bard being of the fearless and talented persuasion wrote a song of his own for this account, and the song went something like this:
The halfling's voice soared (pretty unexpected, which probably startled more than a few of the customers who were by now used to the tone of the tale).
Never more to feel the pain,
the heart collector sang
"And I won't be feeling hollow for so long"
never more to feel the pain,
the words fall out like fire
just believe when you can't believe anymore.

OOC:
Chrono takes a deep breath, actually sings this almost at the top of his voice, to the horror of the others. He then sighs, takes another deep breath and says the following so fast that Hank doesn't have the chance to interrupt:
Hank, are you messing with me? Cuz I'm pretty sure you are. I'm also sure that you're trying to have us stay in this basement for a day listening to my interpretation of the LOTR while we slowly starve and start gnawing on each other's limbs. Is that what you want? Eh? Eh? Then stop offering beers and let's go outside and kill some orcs already.
Chrono takes a deep breath and you realize he probably didn't inhale while saying the above.
Hey, come to think of it, do you have a beer?
(chrono's not underage)

[Koga]

Koga is now scribbeling notes comparing costs and factors into if it would be more practical to purchase (IE: steal) magic scrolls of poison or just buy normal mudane poisons.


The cost of normal alchemy poison is stiffer, but scrolls can burnup, be misread, or even be ruined with a smudge, alchemy poison is more realiable. More importantly, alchemist poison is more controllable when you want it to infect a foe.

Koga loves poison. OM NOM NOM NOM delicious cake... Infact he scribbles down his big scheme.

Step one: Steal everybody's gold and buy poisons
Step two: ?????
Step three: PROFIT!

It has a little stick figure of him ontop of a hill of corpses that say "---blaaah! we've been poisoned!" and Koga's ontop of them
"--That's right bitches! I'm your god now! Bwahahahaha! Delicious cake!"

[The Necroswanso]

Necroswanson begins banging his head on the table. To accomidate the noise his forhead is making he shouts in his most heroic tone.

"AND I AM JERICHO! MASTER OF THE-
STUPID STUPID STUPID
ARCANE ART OF RAISING THE FALLEN FROM THE DEAD! I HAVE STUDIED COUNTLESS YEARS THAT I MIGHT AID MY KNOWLEDGE IN THE FIGHT AGAINST THE DARK LORD!!!"
And with the last bang he does not lift his head. A small trickle of blood runs onto his sheet.
"I will lend you all I can in the fight against these orcs."

[MrEdwardNigma]

Out-Game
"Oh, yeah, Koga, I forgot you went outside..."

In-Game
Well, there's the stables where there's a few horses parked and some typical stable stuff, like hay and pitchforks, and then there's a couple of houses in the village and a small chapel for Hank; The village is on a hillside and lower down are the farmlands whil higher up on the top of the hill there's an Orc encampment with a single windy rock road leading up to it. There's several guardposts along this road.

Out-Game
"It's pretty much up to you guys where you go, you know, Chrono. Oh, and nooooo, I don't have beer. My mom doesn't even allow me to come near it. My brother Dan has some up in his room if you want to go ask him though"

[Bayar]

Since when are horses parked? Arent they suposed to be stabled? In a stable?

I go and start the complicated process of invoking a familiar. Something your puny minds cannot even comprehend without it leaking out through your ears. it will take about....24 hours.

If not, I will start meditating, so that I may focus on training my concentration skill.

[MrEdwardNigma]

Since when are horses parked? Arent they suposed to be stabled? In a stable?

I go and start the complicated process of invoking a familiar. Something your puny minds cannot even comprehend without it leaking out through your ears. it will take about....24 hours.

If not, I will start meditating, so that I may focus on training my concentration skill.

OOC: You're probably right about the horses thing. Guilty as charged. I have heard English people say it though, but that's no excuse. Maybe me not being English is, but hey, on to more important matters.

Out-Game
"Errrrrr, you only have two spells, Bayar. Feather Fall and Fireball. I never did say you could invoke a familiar... And meditating? I doubt I'm going to give you much skill points for that"

OOC: Fun fact: I once ran a campaign where one of the characters could meditate as a skill. Now, this wasn't D&D and I had made clear that meditating would only work once in every long period that passed (this was a game that lasted several in-game ages) but the player would just keep on spending his turns meditating on the off chance it would help him. This meant that he didn't go out adventuring like all the other players but sat in a cave and meditated. It also meant his turns weren't very long. I imagine it was probably not a very fun game for him, but he wouldn't listen when I told him all this meditating was a waste of time...

[Bayar]

Hmm...so I have feather fall...useless spell for me because i have ****ing wings, and fireball...now that sounds promising.

I go out into the vilage, grab a random guy and tell him to give me a sharp weapon or money or join my side as my ...ehm... "familiar".
If he refuses, burninate him with a fireball and repeat with a new guy.

[MrEdwardNigma]

Out-Game
Hank laughs heartily.
"No, no, no, you got it all wrong! Your name is Wings! Well, it's actually loooonger, but that's just too much of a mouthfull. Anyways, heading out, are you?"

In-Game
You grab a random person in the village and ask them for a wapon. after you realsie it's John John you're holding you drop him and grab someone else instead, a poor farmer wearing rags this time. Then you shouts something about needing weapons and money in his face and the guy is clearly more scared than he's ever been. He quickly tosses four coins out of his pocket and stumbles "This is all I have! Please spare me, I have a wife and children!"

[Koga]

OOC:
"I go to that rocky road to meet with some orcs, mind you I'm still in disguise.."


IC:
Koga runs up the rocky road to see if he can find orcs, if he does. He acts really girly and defenseless. Out of game he even tries to put on a girly voice to give you the feel of his character. (He puts on a lisps and ends up sounding like dane cook when he puts on the high-pitch voice)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ok5L_5LO8jk

"Orcs! The villagers! They got together a band of psychotic adventurers to come slaughter you! I know you don't know me, but one of your top officers is my boyfriend! He uhhh....he's just ashamed of me cause I am a human, but this is serious buisness! Those adventurers will come and kill you all! Prepare and don't let my hubby die!"

Bluff check: (Pink's good for charisma!)

[Koga]

Bluff:
(1d20)[9]
Or maybe that was green lol...

[The Necroswanso]

"TRAITOR!"
He shouts, his face still planted firmly on the table, and pointing in the general direction Koga's voice came from.

[Bayar]

OOC: Wait, but I have wings, that let me glide. It is all in my racial description...I mean, why the hell would I go through the rite of passage to transfrom myself from a hobgoblin into a dragonborn (a dragon actually) ? To get one of those bonuses. Sure, I cant fly with my wings, not yet. I can use them to fly at level 6, but until then, i can glide 20 Ft for every 5 ft that I go down.

It is in the rulebooks. Check Races of the dragon !

IC: ****. I didnt want to scare the guy. I only wanted help. Ah well...money for a good cause.
I search for a weaponsmith or a weapon shop in town.

[chrono]

Chrono waves his hand in dismissal (he's obviously not going through all the trouble of getting up for the sole purpose of getting beer).
Now that we know what we're up against, I know where Drek wants to go.

IC:
Depending on how the people took his violent epic, Drek passes a hat around. Once that's done, he tries to get a little bit of info on the orcs (especially for alternative routes) and once that's done he goes outside and stares in the direction of the orc base.

(1d20+2)[6](8) (gather information: orc base)

[MrEdwardNigma]

Out-Game
"Koga, you still haven't made that disguise roll, and until you roll a thirty on that or something I'm not allowing that disguise, I mean, seriously!"

In-Game
Wings lets the terrified villager go, who runs up the hillside. His search for a weaponsmith or weapon store isn't very usefull as there are only a couple of houses, a tavern and a chapel in town. There's a small setup in the stables for fixing horseshoes, but that's it.

Meanwhile Drek manages to earn as much money with his singing as Wings did with his robbing people: four coins. Each coin is worth one of the terrible beers they serve in The Small Tavern. Also, you can't make out much of the orc camp as it's terribly far away. This is a very big hill. As for alternative routes to the camp, you see none from where you're standing.

Out-Game
"Fine, Bayar, I'll allow you to glide" Hank says, sick of this discussion. Then he adds "When it's convenient for me..."

[Bayar]

My name is not Wings.

Lets go to the orc encampment, kill them all for some petty racial conflicts (since most of us are racists) and take their stuff. I need a sword or something sharp.

Oh, and I go to the stables to see if I can get a horse.

[chrono]

Drek gathers the coins in his pocket, says farewell to his audience and joins Wings on the way to the stables ("Wings" rolls off the tongue better than "Dragonborn" - you're stuck with that as a name or a nickname ).

A horse would be good. A pointy stabbing implement would be better. Drek would settle for any weapon more fashionable than a pitchfork (assuming the absence of swords and daggers, a scythe will do if he can find one).

OOC:
Hey, racism or not, they eat babies. And kick puppies from what I gather. I'm assuming various odor offenses in addition to a total lack of table manners.

[Koga]

OOC:
"Ok fine, I guess I don't go warn the orcs about our plans of genocide... hmmph..."

He thinks for a moment...

"I have an idea!"


"With my mad skillz in disguise guys, we can take these pitchforks, and I'll dress us all up as devils right? And we go up to the orcs with our horses and arm ourselves with the pithforks and tell them if they don't change their amoral ways we'll take their immortal souls!


Thus scaring the orcs straight, saving the village, and not having to lose a damn bit of HP..."

[Silkenfist]

OOC: Silkenfist rests his head on his forearms, waiting for time to pass. It has been almost an hour and still none of them had gained any XP. At that rate, it would take a while until they were level 20. Also, it appeared that everyone else was running around wildly. Is that really how pen & paper is being played? He thinks about it for a split second and gives it a try on the off-chance to get involved again.
"Dangalf leaves the tavern, too. Then he..." Silkenfist pauses, thinking for a while "he goes out and around the town until something happens."

[Silkenfist]

OOC: Silkenfist rests his head on his forearms, waiting for time to pass. It has been almost an hour and still none of them had gained any XP. At that rate, it would take a while until they were level 20. Also, it appeared that everyone else was running around wildly. Is that really how pen & paper is being played? He thinks about it for a split second and gives it a try on the off-chance to get involved again.
"Dangalf leaves the tavern, too. Then he..." Silkenfist pauses, thinking for a while "he goes out and around the town until something happens."

[The Necroswanso]

"you know Koga, that would almost work. However we would have to hope the aren't aligned with such monsters. Afterall, you don't become Dark Lord by associating yourself with a good aligned higher power.
So, unless the orcs are in cohoots with Asmodeous himself, you plan has a chance of succeeding, other than that, we're screwed. So, rather than going with your one line suicide runs, how about we figure out a real plan."
He sits upright, blood smeared across his forhead.
"If that's alright with you. Because I don't think the rest of the group is going to run off and die simply because you want them too. It would help you if you weren't blatantly obvious about your attempts to kill us."


"Perhaps we should form a plan. First, we can find out everything we can about these orcs. Battle plans, who they're allied with. What they're capable of. Then, we go around, get stronger. Then, we come back, and strike in the dead of night."

[Duke of URL]

OOC: Duke chimes in, "and develop our characters, too, remember! It doesn't matter how many levels we gain or what loot we find if we don't have deep, interesting characters to play!"

IC: Xian Li nods. "Yes, this would be an excellent time to develop my skills and seek to probe the deeper meanings of my actions."

[Koga]

OOC:
Koga's mind now wanders sense nobody wants to listen to his crazy and often life threatening plans...

"I wonder if dragons use pitchforks as like... dinner forks?"

Koga scribbles his team-mates being eaten by a dragon and offering the dragon a pitchfork to use to eat them more sophisticated-like and trees and vines are in a big bowl with his screaming team-mates as an adventurer salad...



He fiddles with a red d20, trying to think up a plan that doesn't involve jeopardizing his team-mates. In a bored sigh fiddeling with the die he says;


"I guess I could disguise us as orcs to infiltrate their base... maybe..."

[The Necroswanso]

"Getting warmer, but we are still currently 'Level 0',"
Makes the quotation hand sign.
"Which means we lack the basic abilities, regardless of what we can cast, to make that plan useful. I think we're stuck killing vermin for a good while.
Either way, infiltraiting and orc encampment is NOT a good idea. Figure it out."

[Koga]

Koga writes down his plans to dip into assassin and shadowdancer. (Two viable options for the rogue) but not excell at either. Just enough that he can dimension-step to flank a foe then stab them in the ribs with a death attack. Preffbly a longblade or rapier type weapon with a high probability of success rate.


He also writes down the probabilities of killing his comrades as this "backstabbing whore" build. The necromancer will be tough, what with the undead hordes and the immunity to save-or-dies, (not to meation he could rebuke JohnJohn's shadow minions if he even went that far into shadowdancer..) the monk's evasive possibilities will be too sick for him to flank successfully, the evoker mage would probably be the easiest to kill as he would suck in close-range, but he's just stupid enough to blow us both up.

And the bard? The bard could possibly enthrall JohnJohn, but that would require and outside force to then destroy his JohnJohn.


Evidently it doesn't look as if even at his optimal build he'll be in any position to smack these oafs around. His only hope is that the other power gamer thinks up a plan to dispose of some of the threats.

As he writes all these graphs and percentages that look like when a football coach goes over a game plan.

[The Necroswanso]

Necroswanson sighs as Koga begins scribbling again. He casually stands, abandons his post, and just as casually take a seat next to Koga. He sits, hands folded, and whispers quietly, and professionally.

Spoiler

Show

"Now I know we haven't gotten off on the right foot. But you and I, we're not that different. Don't take that for face value of course. Now, if our gentlemen friend Silky overthere had even half a brain he'd know what was going on. The only people who could possibley be oblivious are Hank, whom I'm considering to be some sort of mastermind, and our gentleman thespian. Though he seems too caught up in his novel of a character than anything else.
I know what you're doing. And you know it. And we both know it's not going to succeed. You don't have the power, you'd have to catch us all in our sleep, and that will get very hard considering our strange little DM, even harder knowing I can smell treachery a mile away.
However, you and I have the same goals. These other people are sheep. Too lost in the game to forsee the grand scheme. However I know exactly what's going on, and I couldn't be more ashamed. You're too obvious. You can do better, and I'm willing to offer you better. We could easily trick these other morons out of the loot, atleast most of it. Enough to get us the kind of power required, and then show them to be the livestock they are. Make lackies out of them. However being obvious won't get you where you want to go, and neither of our plans will function if we're working against each other. So I'm offering you a shaky little truce, atleast, an accord to work together for these means, and when it's all done, then we can battle for supremacy. But until then it will be far too difficult, maybe even impossible, for either of us to gain any ground here."

Necroswanson stood up, the entire time he hadn't even looked at Koga.
"If you understand, simply nod."
He returned to his seat, making no attempt to remain quiet during the last statement.

[Koga]

Koga nods and scribbles more. He also starts scribbling ideas for monsters.

Were-platypus!
Sexual harassment panda!
One eye, one horned, flying purple people eater!


Stuff he might summon... if he wants to dip in spellcaster...

[MrEdwardNigma]

In-Game
There's about three horses to steal in the stables, but the only things remotely like weapons seem to be four pitchforks, a hammer, a shovel and some ropes.

The man robbed by Wings seems to be talking to some of the Orcs up the road.

For those still in those still in the tavern, the stranger in the black cloak who's smoking a pipe in the corner seems to be getting impatient. Bob, the bartender, also seems to be getting quite desperate.
"C'mon now, I've got a perfectly good quest, isn't there anyone who'll take it?"

Harry Rotter puts down his glass of milk and smiles at the innkeep, which is quite unfortunate as his dead lips don't make for a charming smile.
"I'll take this deathdefying quest of yours, innkeep. I'll help you if it kills me. Who'll join me on my epic quest?" he yells.

"Very well, brave sir adventurer. I need help with my basement. There are some terrifying monster in there, rats, big as houses"

This gives Harry Rotter a scare. "Big as houses, sir innkeep?"

"Oh, did I say houses? I meant mouses"

OOC: Yes, I'm aware it's mice, however, Hank is not. Thank you, that will be all.

[chrono]

IC:
Drek examines the slim pickings, takes the hammer and returns to the tavern just in time to learn of the new quest.

Tossing the hammer into his hand, he murmurs. Ah well, boring tools like pitchforks could be expected. Rope too, but I'm way too skinny to be dragging shovels and ropes around. Not to mention I don't wanna. But a hammer... It has a ring to it, it has potential. I should pick a battle cry, something along the lines of "It's hammer time", except better since that one isn't really cool and will never catch on. And then I'm all set for glory - a hammer-wielding bard is a sight so stunning that it will surely be remembered - instant classic.
He then suddenly stops his monologue, looks at Harry and says:
Well then, we're set. Let's go, unless you feel you need more help to kill a few rats.

OOC:
Ahh, rodent bashing, Chrono says, classic quest for level zero adventures. Now let's go level up. I'm going right now, whoever's lost touch with reality can just keep babbling on.

[Duke of URL]

OOC: "Hey, wait a minute... I thought you said they only served beer here? How did Mary Sue... er... 'Harry' manage to get milk? Oh, never mind... let's do some mindless rat killing so we can get on with the business of actually advancing the story." Duke does, by the way, know exactly what Koga is up to, but couldn't care less, as it's the closest anyone else at the table has gotten to developing any kind of character, except maybe Chrono/Drek.

IC: "Yes, vermin can be a nuisance. One of my many chores at the monastery was searching for signs of rat infestation, although we did have cats to take care of the problem. There was one cat in particular, Samson he was called, I believe, who I had a special bond with. I would bring him scraps of meat from the kitchens and he would try to claw my eyes out to get at it. It was an excellent way to practice my defensive techniques, you see."

OOOC: I'm going to add "metagamer" to Koga's OOC persona description, all the better to differentiate him from the other "powergamer" variants.

[Silkenfist]

OOC: Yes! Silkenfist chimes in. Finally some action. We shall fight those monsters and...oh, wait. He tries to pitch his voice deeper and slower as he continues.

IC: We shall fight those monsters for you. How many XP will they bring?

OOC: Silkenfist notices that the others look at him again ((I sure hope, you do)). Don't look at me. Maybe the guy in black has more.