ITT: We talk about shenanigans we pulles in games we were a part of

> playing PF with a bunch of people I know
> playing CE cleric with fire and war domain, obsessed with spilling blood. took all trait/flaws to make him look as evil as possible, monstrous shadow etc
> in a generic town, character intro etc. everyone's either CN or neutral
> go into the inn while party is perusing another shop, it's manned by a blind and deaf old man.
> lolwat
> leave him be. Check the inn for info on possible quests or jobs, but it's empty.
> check the old man's ledger for info, not much to see.
> cast spark on the ledger and walk out.
> few hours later the inn's engulfed in an inferno. Casually walk in through the flames while the party is panicking and chuck the old man out the window out of the fire. He was sleeping through the flames.
> hear screaming at the back, there was a fencer woman I the room.
> casually walk out of the fire and into the room, emerging like a fucking demon out of hell
> grab her and run through the door and out the inn, draping her in my cloak which I soaked with water.
> I will extract her virgin blood later for my god.
> later find out the party's drow ranger fucked her right after all that somehow
> mfw

> In the very beginning of the campaign, the party was recruited by a rich merchant to cross half the world, find a guy and two his children and escort him back to the merchant.
> Said guy? Bard. He's also a carpenter.
> We didn't ask many questions. In fact, we didn't ask any questions at all, but simply headed to our destination.
> Somewhen along the way we meet an archfey that offers us some vague and potentially very dangerous contracts with vague and very poetic prices. DM thought we’ll end up making one or two contracts, we ended up making twelve.
> So, twelve contracts, one agonizing megadungeon, seven levels, a few deaths of our party members and many in-game weeks later we finally reach our destination.
> We stop at an inn. Since we just went through this setting’s version of Moria and robbed a dwarven treasury, we have some cash to burn.
> The innkeeper, a guy called Greyhair, sees the murderhobos in his place and immediately leaves.
> We suddenly realize that we have no idea where to look for the bard, what he looks like or what's his name. We just know that he's a bard and a carpenter.
> The party splits in three pairs (except for the sorcerer who went on his own) and each goes on it's own way.
> Me and the ranger decide that the bard is not really that important, so we end up trying to establish a dwarven civilization instead, but it’s really not that interesting.
> Adventures of others, however, are quite amusing.

> The barbarian and the blackguard first visit a blacksmith, where the blackguard leaves his armor for upgrades - except for the helmet. For the rest of the story he’s walking around in cheap clothes and a bucket helmet.
> Then they decide to search for the bard. First, they ask around to find out who’s doing carpenting around here.
> They decide to go on a tour to ask all of the carpenters if they can sing or play musical instruments.
> Surpisingly, one of the carpenters does, and he even performs so well, they give him money. But he’s not the guy.
> Meanwhile, the monk and the warlock are interrogating our insane dwarf NPC, Dorri, about where the bard might live or hang out.
> Since Dorri has been a completely useless nervous wreck for the entire campaign, it goes about how well you can expect.
> “Bard. A carpenter. Made toys. Children very happy. Gave me one.”
> They realize that the bard must be at the summer fair, so they head there at once.
> In the beginning of spring.
> Eventually they do realize that those events don’t happen every day, so they continue interrogating Dorri.
> “Bard. The carpenter. Made toys, very well.”
> Suddenly the duo realizes that “Bard” is actually the guy’s name.

> The detective duo starts asking around about a guy named Bard, but for some reason people are uncooperative. Eventually they do persuade an old lady to tell them that Bard is a nice guy, who lives with his family in a beautiful house nearby.
> Bard, makes toys, has two children, checks out - he’s the guy.
> They ask for directions and receive them - but they’re warned by the old lady that Bard is not at home right now, he’s taking a walk somewhere, so they probably should come to him at the evening.
> The most succesful part of the party decides that fuck this shit, they didn’t come so far to wait until the evening. Also, an evil druid and his werewolves may or may not be coming to eat Bard and his family, so they should really get moving.
> So they do - they come to Bard’s doorstep, knock on his door and get no response. “Well, he really isn’t home” - they conclude - “We should watch his house and approach him the moment he comes back.”
> They take a secluded position they can watch Bard’s house from and wait.
> Suddenly, city guard comes by and politely asks them to get out and stop being suspicious. Monk will not be bullied - he succesfully intimidates the guard into backing the fuck out and leaving.
> Some time passes in peace and quiet, when some more gentlemen visit the dynamic duo - a very diverse group of people sharing exactly one thing in common - they’re all well armed.
> One of the polite gentlemen tells the duo that they should have been more covert - and now they’re paying the price for their sloppiness.
> After this, the group attacks - at first the duo holds their ground and tries to fight, but very soon they crunch the numbers and realize that each and every one of polite gentlemen is actually a level 5 rogue, and there’re many of them.
> After realizing how utterly fucked they are, the monk grabs the warlock, runs up the wall and disappears without a trace, while the gentlemen are watching in awe.

> Meanwhile, the sorcerer rolls very well on streetwise and finds out that the city we’re in is under control of a thieves guild called the Society. He also finds out that one of his contacts from the underworld is here, so he probably should ask him about carpenters who can sing very well.
> For some reason, said contact refuses to talk. “Ask me about anything.” - he says - “Except the guy. We don’t talk about him here.”
> The sorcerer continues pressing the matter, but gets nowhere. He shrugs, leaves and hides - if carpenters are such a big deal in this city and asking about them is dangerous, surely he’ll run to inform somebody about outsiders trying to find him?
> And he’s absolutely right - his contact does head somewhere, so the sorcerer starts stalking him.
> On the way there he randomly bumps into the Buckethead and Discount Conan, tells them to be silent, and a bald sorcerer, a seven foot tall blackguard and a naked barbarian are all stalking the same guy.
> Somehow they succeed in following him without getting his attention and see him entering a bakery of sorts. Where they see Greyhair - an innkeeper from the place they’re staying in, who left in a hurry for some reason. Sorcerer’s contact seems to be reporting to him.
> It’s time to get some answers - so the trio barges into the bakery and politely asks if they can get directions to a certain carpenter.
> Greyhair returns the courtesy and just as politely answers that people who ask about carpenters tend to disappear under his watch. Those are fighting words, good sir!

> All the bakers suddenly pull crossbows out of nowhere and begin shooting.
> Greyhair and the contact unsheathe their daggers and attack.
> The trio fights back - and they fight back hard. Fireballs, barbarian rage and smiting are all involved - and eventually they win…
> Just kidding, sounds of fighting attracted the city guard - and they are utterly slaughtered.
> Everyone but Greyhair are dead - the suspiciously influential innkeeper they’ve decided to knock unconcious to interrogate him later.
> The sorcerer looks out in the window and is mortified to see that even more guardsmen have arrived - their number is somewhere around “all of them”.
> The barbarian decides that it’s an appropriate time to loot the place. Upon realizing that even if it’s a criminal den, it’s also a bakery, he stuffs his mouth full of pies and then proceeds to steal an entire sack of them.
> The guard is beginning to charge inside, so the sorcerer strikes the ground with his staff - and the colours are suddenly washed away by the tide of magic.
> The bricks, the wood, the glass fade away into nothing - only the spilled blood remains, now on the otherwordly grey stone.
> The hysterical ringing of alarm bells and agitated screaming of charging guardsmen is substituted by blowing of the cold wind and quiet whimpering of the dead.
> This is the Shadow, the realm of darkness, of the dead, where no joy or life exist - this was the place the sorcerer took his friends to in the bid to escape their pursuers.
> So anyway, a naked barbarian, a guy in just a bucket helmet and a heavily burnt sorcerer are dragging an unconcious body and a sack of pies through the afterlife.
> After crossing some serious distance, they pop back into the material plane - in the very same inn we’ve stopped.
> The monk and the warlock, beaten physically, but not metaphorically, have already returned - and so have I and the ranger.
> Interrogation time!

> After Greyhair wakes up, the very first words that come out of his mouth are: “Have you seriously kidnapped me into my own inn, you imbeciles?”. The imbeciles nod - that’s exactly what we did.
> We demand to know where Bard is or why such secrecy surrounds him, but the fucker absolutely refuses to talk even when we threaten him severe body harm and remind him what happened to his bakers.
> Some beatings occur, but he’s absolutely indifferent - he just spits on us. Nothing can possibly make this guy crack, unless we get really creative. What are we going to do?!
> The sorcerer begins talking: “We were sent here by a merchant to find a carpenter…”
> And this is the moment Greyhair absolutely loses his shit.
> Turns out, he’s the local leader of the Society - a group formed specifically to protect Bard’s bloodline. With the werewolf and cultist threat, it’s becoming unsafe here - so Greyhair advised his rich friends interested in Bard’s safety to hire some guys to move him.
> “I’ve told him” - angrily ranted the Greyhair with pure hatred in his eyes. - “I’ve told him not to hire idiots. They’re cheap, but they’ll fuck it up. Give me money, my boys will do it. Did he listen? No-o-o-o-o!”
> I get really defensive and demand to know how we were even supposed to know about Society and the fact that Greyhair was supposed to be our ally.
> Greyhair immediately parries - have we asked any questions about our contacts at all? In fact, have we asked any questions about the mission?
> This shuts me up and puts the party into the deepest shame a bunch of shameless murderhobos can possibly be in.
> We don’t have a lot of time to contemplate out life choices, though, because very soon a young thug busts into the room and shouts something about Bard’s house being on fire.

> Okay, it turns out that the Society is cheap as fuck and didn’t buy any silver weapons for their elite level 5 rogue bodyguards. Bad idea, when the one you’re supposed to protect is hunted by a werewolf cult.
> In other words, they’re all dead.
> We’re trying to fight our way to Bard’s house, but the werewolves have brought a lot of friends to the party, and we’re drowning in bodies. There’s also a jackass druid, who keeps casting distracting spells at us, slowing us down even more.
> The monk is the fastest of us all - he cuts his way to the door and rushes inside, as he hears children screaming - but by the time he’s there, it’s too late already. Bard is dead - and only his children are left alive.
> After we beat the druid, the rest is essentially cleanup - but even if we technically won the battle, our enemies have achieved their goals - Bard is dead.
> We set up a teleportation circle - so before we manage to lose the children too, we run away, utterly forgetting that we’ve left +2 suit of armor and Dorri (with significant part of our treasures) behind.
> It goes without saying that the children utterly hate us for coming too late and losing their father.
> They begin to hate us even more, when a certain archfey comes to collect the debts and demands one of the Bard’s children as payment. Everyone who still had contracts with her, suddenly fall under her domination and head to grab the girl, doing the fey’s bidding.
> The others? Well, we tried our best. Invisibility, dispel magic and remove curse all went into play, but the best we could do was slowing them down - the part of the group that had contracts was significantly larger and they were armed and armored, unlike us.
> Eventually, the girl was handed to the fey as she screamed for someone to save her, while the boy lied on the floor, bleeding out, a victim of a stray sword. Even if we have managed to save him from death, we felt like utter shit.

> So, Bard is dead. The girl is dead. Well, we still have the last one. Should be enough?
> Only three people were wise enough not to head back to the merchant who hired us in the first place. The monk, me and the ranger, we’ve decided to go on a completely unrelated trip for no reason at all.
> The rest of the party - and Bard’s son - headed on a ship back where it all began.
> They should have seen it coming, really - as they headed into the merchant’s mansion, they could have noticed how numerous and well-armed his guard is. Perhaps, if they did notice it, something could have gone differently.
> As the merchant comes out, he’s somewhat confused - only one member of the party that came to meet him was the original member - but he’s content.
> “You’ve returned so soon.” - he smiles. - “Tell me, where’s Bard and his family?”
> “Yeah, about that…”
> As he hears the story, his face slowly darkens. At the end he’s boiling with rage, screaming obscenities about the useless fools he hired - then he turns to the boy.
> “Have they treated you well?” - he asks. There is poison in his voice.
> “They gave my sister to a witch. The armored man sliced my stomach open, and the guy in the robe dragged me with a rope around my neck like an animal.”
> The merchant looks at the party one last time. His face is grim. He makes a gesture, inviting the boy to follow him. As he turns away, he mumbles something in his own language.
> His guard step forward, readying their spears.
> I was very wise not to come back.

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