Veeky Forums Storytime General

Post all your interesting tales, your epic triumphs, your hilarious failures, and all the weird shit, anything worth speaking to, around the table or off it, so long as it is related to all matters Veeky Forums.

>Decided to play a black priest.
>Get inside filled with bears and rushing waters.
>After a bunch of fighting and low hp I decide to try and cross a bridge to get to safety.
>Slip and fall into water.
>See something shiny in the water.
>Swim down to retrieve it.
>Drown
>Save myself with roll
>Try to climb up
>Fall
>Try to climb up
>Fall
>Repeat 6 more times flopping around in the water.
>Group makes black people can't swim jokes.
>DM just says fuck it and let me out of the water because I could never get out.

I wish to recount to you the events of yesterday's session, one of the most spectacular battles in my roleplaying career - nowhere near as epic as all the really awesome shit seen on Veeky Forums (which should speak volumes of how un-memetic this hobby has been for me overall), but it was pretty cool at the time it happened, so maybe someone here gets something out of it.

>Pathfinder dungeon crawl
>The party has endured two floors of traps and monsters
>(including a slime encounter with something worth telling in itself, maybe I'll get to that after this)
>Finally approaching the final chamber
>The ranger scouts ahead, holding his dim lantern, just enough light to allow his low-light vision to see what lies within
>Suddenly he stops, freezes in terror, draws his bow
>The entire party is puzzled as he silently begins unleashing arrows into the darkness
>His bow is enchanted with lightning, so its arrows flash like brief shooting stars, giving the group terrifying glimpses into the nature of the black, the horror he is firing at, the massive twisted amalgamation of bones and grave dust
>It is moving, and with a mighty rumble, the living wall begins to approach
>But it wasn't the terror of a powerful enemy that got the ranger so scared as to shoot at it
>No, it was the dragon skull on top that angered him and made him want to wreck the shit out of the unholy grave-robbing monster
>He really loves dragons, you see
>Battle is joined, sorcerer tells the group what they're facing, the warriors charge in
>Unfortunately our paladin is absent, so the next best thing for a melee guy is our drunkass cleric... dear, oh dear
>It's not even undead - it's a construct - so turn undead is useless
>The wall approaches, the cleric's mace bounces uselessly off it, it crushes her and pulls her in, grappling her
>Arrows and bullets and lightning flies as the party tries to bring the horror down
>Practically useless - none of us have anything to truly hurt it

(Pic related for the slime encounter)

>The ranger's animal companion breaks rank and charges in so that he could save the cleric
>The ranger never told him to do this - he's not even fully grown yet
>Tried to train him into a vicious berserking killer but instead, in no small part thanks to the bard, he turned into a fucking cuddlebug
>(The bard is singing his song, by the way, helping us all with rolls)
>The wall keeps its relentless approach, nearly catches on to the gunslinger and the ranger
>Neither retreat, for that would mean defeat and death
>It continues to crush those trapped within - the cleric is horribly wounded, the poor giant weasel goes from full health to -9 in a single critical hit
>Blood spurts out of the wall, the ranger's eye twitches, the rumbling of the wall and the cracking of bones is all deafened out by the bard's black metal
>Shit's really going down now, the ranged damage dealers are about to be swallowed, someone is almost certainly going to die the next round, the weasel is all but declared dead
>With her final strength, the cleric channels energy
>Only 5 points of damage healed to herself and the weasel, at least buys the latter some more time - but -only- if the living wall is destroyed now
>Yet none of the damage the party deal to it seems to stick: it is slowly healing, has defense against all their attacks, and keeps on coming in...
>Just then, a crit
>One of the ranger's arrows hits the dragon skull, splits it clean in half
>The combined attacks of the party bring the wall to precisely -2
>It collapses, spitting out the cleric and the unconscious weasel
>This was the second time the weasel was brought to negatives
>Scaredycat cuddlebug
>Fucking Percy not being here to take up the melee duties
>No one died

Then we nearly collapsed the dungeon with an Indiana Jones-esque trap, but the gunslinger had a bit of superglue to hold the pressure plate in place so that it wouldn't be triggered.

Did you ever find the shiny?

bump

Are there no other tales for Veeky Forums to tell?

I have one, more of a hilarious fuckup than a triumph but it's still funny.

>Only war
>Imperial Reconquest of a Genestealer cult infested world
>So far things have been going well
>Not right now, though
>Genestealers, genestealers EVERYWHERE
>Pouring out of a building on the other end of the block
>Intel said there was a nest near here
>Party agrees that's probably the nest
>Except the sniper
>The sniper thinks it's his new spot
>Slips away
>Avoids 'stealers
>Manages to climb up to the roof
>Kicks open the door
>It was the nest.

And that's how our sniper got his guts ripped out, and lost the squad's plasma rifle. Between him and the heavy who got ripped apart trying to get his sorry ass, the squad's firepower was reduced so much that the stealers overran the position and resulted in a TPK.

Also, Lalaria stop fucking with your party's future murderbeasts. Cute is not a useful trait in a ranger's battle companion.

You've asked for this, OP.

...

In fairness, if the "murderbeast" keeps getting his ass kicked whenever he's sent to battle, being also cute and cuddly is just icing on that failure cake.

...

Well they did say it's a juvenile. You don't expect a bear cub to be able to fight like an adult bear.

Dietrich literally did nothing wrong.

> Almost dooming the party with his reckless retardation
> Doing it twice
> Dealing with devils
> Betraying the party for power and riches
> Nothing wrong
user...

Fuck green text, I'm incompitent.

I DM'd a bunch of campaigns back at my old dorm. One player decided to RP as his mute hermit Monk. This wasn't too weird, he's a really quiet guy in his day-to-day. What everyone but me didn't know, however, is that he could talk just fine, but he was "waiting for the right moment". I didn't know what the fuck he meant, but I rolled with it.
After the party had slain a two-headed ogre chieftain, they returned to a nearby mountainside hamlet to tell of their victory, and a feast was held in their honor. When asked what the heroes meal of choice would be, the monk slowly looked up.
"Spaghetti".
The barbarian player actually jumped, and everyone turned in shock. After a good ten seconds of bewilderment from the party and myself, the townspeople set about making a sphagetti feast. As they sat, a village boy tried to swipe a bite of the monks spaghetti.
The silent shy guy in the corner fucking stood up so fast he broke the office chair he was in and started screaming.
"GET THAT LITTLE FAGGOT AWAY FROM MY PASTA BEFORE I WATER WHIP HIS ASSHOLE SO HARD IT'LL TRICKLE OUT HIS MOUTH."
In the year and a half that campaign lasted, that remains the only time he ever spoke.

Dear god, that's hilarious.

That's pretty awesome to be honest.

>Ragtag group of adventurers
>Me, Halig the homewrecker, Half-orc barbarian believing in world peace and justice via subjugation. Also a cannibal
>Goll Vadi, Skinny wood elf Cleric of talos, Just wants to smite and threaten
>August the dishonest, that guy, half elf bard.
>Lloyd, completely retarded human rogue, int of 3
>Starts in tavern, pretty generic
>All wake up from drunk party night
>Blood flowing down the stairs
>guess we're getting right into this
>Go up stairs to investigate
>Room of dead young women
>throats slit with white flower in the newfound throat hole
>also curtains
>Halig has a massive fear of curtains
>never know what could be behind them
>we do some minimal investigating but nothing comes of it
>rest of party goes to ask dwarven barmaid
>I stay, got an idea
>decide to sniff around for a scent to track
>i hunt by scent alone
>crit fail my check
>this is the first hint that my dice are cursed
>fall face first into bloody mess
>fuck
>fuckfuckfuck
>OOC party looks at me like I'm retarded
>cover bodies with curtains
>go downstairs
>Party questions blood
>"ignore the blood, also don't go upstairs"
>We proceed to question the barmaid
>this happens every year apparently
>EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR?
> we proceed to ask who the prime suspect would be.
>took some intimidating, its the barboy.
>she protected him.
>justice must be enacted
1/3

2/3
>she reveals a hidden trapdoor with a ladder
>decide to see how deep it is
>throw the dwarven barmaid down the hole
>she tries to pull me with her
>Party tries to catch us, not happening
>manage to save myself, barmaid ain't so lucky
>after a bit, we hear a thud.
>Goll yells down hole "You alive down there?"
>we climb down
>cpr maid
>she's dead
>i take her outfit and proceed to pull her arm off and eat it
>we move on and come upon a stone locked door
>i stick barmaids finger in the keyhole
>breaks off, had to roll to pull it out
>August dicks the hole, nat 20.
>August has a dick key
>also six dwarves in the room
>Lloyd uses chandelier on ceiling kills 2, Goll kills one, Halig Cleaves two in half
>for some reason i snarked the dm
>he rolls. A dryder appears
>Fucking hell
>dwarves book ass through a door and lock it
>we haul ass through the door on the opposite side of the room and set it on fire to keep the dryder from following
>keep going
>Walking down a hall
>wraith appears
>august goes to seduce, fails.
>wraith flies through him and disappears
>Fuck our luck
>Coninue on
>couple small skirmishes, nothing major
>go to open locked door
>Trigger trap, get speared
>ok, no more spears, i roll to punch the door open
>crit fail, more spears
>august opens the door
>go through next couple rooms with small skirmishes, nothing major
>Manage to crit fail 6 times in a row for opening doors
>speared every time
>it is then, that I realize my dice are cursed
>going down long hallway
>another wraith
>August tries to seduce despite our advising him not to.
>Same result as last time
>Next room has, guess what, ANOTHER DRYDER
>Have to bust down door and set that one on fire too
>More doors, more fails for me, more spears
>end up taking 108 damage from doors alone in this dungeon
>come to a room with a dagger in the middle
>fuck naw
>but august wants it, so we plan
>go to doorway, and throw ball bearing at it
>floor opens, 4 arch demons
>Floor closes and we book ass

>next room has magic darkness on one half, and barrels of rotten fruit on the lit side
>I throw the barrel into the darkness
>Darkness fades
>Its the bar boy and the two dryders
>August tries to seduce dryders
>here we go again
>Dryder picks him up and drags him to the other end of the room
>negotiation time
>try to get out of dungeon cuz we're done with it's shit.
>nope, dryder picks me up
>Arm is free, now aout 5 feet from bar boy, just upside down.
>go for the swing, cursed dice don't fail me now
>hit bar boy's AC, and do enough to kill him outright since he ain't in armor
>Dryders fade away
>wut?
>turns out they were illusions the whole time.
>August decides to check if the archdemons were illusions
>told him not to, fag didn't listen
>they were real. One got loose.
>we manage to evade notice and sneak down a hall to a final door.
>go to open it
>dragon bile pours from the ceiling
>fucking traps
>Pour water on self to get bile off.
>open door
>Smoky stone dragon heads inside on walls
>August throws torch in
>fucking moron blows the apparent treasure room up
>damn near kills the party too
>we go scavenge room. nothing to be found
>leave dungeon. walk outside tavern of hell
>upgrade gear in town. Got a lightning axe
>also burned down hell tavern
>ended up letting loose all the monsters
>300 wraiths, a cyclops, 2 giant centipedes, a basilisk, 2 ACTUAL Dryders, an ogre, and those 2 surviving dwarves
>Also august tried to rob a guy, but DM wouldn't have his bullshit so did a roll, and the merchant ended up calling down a dragon
>we got the fuck outta town
had a couple sessions afterwards, one of which we mistakenly let august's player dm.

How did august's player run things?

I was the DM in that session, and I'd like to add the detail of the location of said combat:
The room where the living wall was, was reachable through a set of stairs, which upon initiating the fight, was soon covered in grease due a pressure plate activated by the wall itself moving.
This prevented the party to run away or even retreat, and as the fight progressed, the room avaiable to the party to thread safely diminished more and more. Only the bard was safe from this as he waited (and played music) on top of the stairs.

Other player from this group. Some details that are somewhat important/dramatic.
The stairs behind us were coated in grease from a trap, preventing a safe retreat. Additionally, the bard was playing music at us from atop said stairs, without ever having stepped down them. And the superglue had been purchased from a fey merchant who offered 100 gold for a random grab-bag of minor magic items a few months prior. We've yet to inform him how his item saved our lives, but he's an adorable juvenile cait sith and so we expect the reaction to be equally adorable. Finally, the second image was from an ooze we encountered, which is a story in and of itself. Our bard, as said in the party image, really doesn't know how to combat and barely pays attention. So not only did she try to use Detect Desires on non-sentient ooze, she then tried to use Water To Wine on it. Both of these actions cancelled her Inspire Courage bard ability.

...

Were I the DM, I would've let the second one go through.

>8 rolls that have no consequence and advance the story in no way whatsoever
what a shit gm

A shit system, more like. Burning Wheel all day erry day.

Ain't just BW: any remotely decent system does this

We had to spend a collective 2 hours of our 6 arguing with home. It was at this point I had realized he was a that guy about rules for a game he never played

Him* Also he had a massive fear of character death and was shooting down our ideas and attempts at building an army at every turn. We had to roll Nat 20 Just to get him to think about it.

>Grandmother apocalypse
>Replace shambling, moaning zombies with shuffling kindly grandmas offering cookies to everyone younger than themselves
>Then they will devour you

Bump.