View Full Version : Just humorous...

August 14th, 2006, 08:11
"Slugthrowers in StarWars?" "YEAH, should be the ultimate jedikiller, bullet hits lightsaber evaporates into a cloud of hot lead-gas or fluid..." *Gm nods sagely* "Yeah... sounds like it." // A few sessions later. "I fire at him like there is no tomorrow." "Did you bring earplugs?" "Earplugs?" "Yes, you are fiering the equivalent of a .357 magnum in each hand in a small enclosed space, if you are VERY lucky you will want the earplugs." "Lucky?" "Yes, think THIN space-station walls and magnum .357...."

August 14th, 2006, 08:19
Come on out of the woodwork guys. :) While we wait for version 2.0 of FG, lets sit down and have a few laughs at our expense. Post your more humorous moments. :)

August 14th, 2006, 08:41
Hehe, worst situation I ran into during a game was my players in a Star Trek game using the transporter as a weapon to beam their enemies off their ship into the cold hard vacuum of space. Sad thing is, even though I set a ridiculously high number for them to roll, they still were able to manage to do it.

August 14th, 2006, 08:52
<CSI style campaign, modern day using ArsMagica system>

*Eduard Heisse* "Robert Greene? Will you PLEASE stop refering to Jane Doe as the 'dead bimbo' while I am speaking for the autopsy record?"

*Robert Greene* "Sure boss. Sorry about that..."

*A few moments later the comissioner enters* "So... got anything on the dead Bimbo?"


"Right, so when they ASK us, HE opened fire FIRST... And THEN we decided to ram the suspect with the squad-car." (After one of the PCs seeing red and running over a drug-dealer Shaft-Style.)


*Me after the session* "... so while SOME of us got the intention that this was to be CSI.. Others decided it was Die Hard VIII - all the way in a handbasket."

August 14th, 2006, 09:12
This happened fairly early in my FG campaign an pretty muched convinced me that I had EXACTLY the group I wanted to work for as a DM.

Situation: Top of an isolated tor in front of an ancient barrow confronted by a powerful lich known as The Shee. Wind and snow hurl themselves at the players, the twisted trees and thorny scrub give minimal protection. The lich summons some undead to help out ...

The players realise (as do I) that the 3.5 rules on undead and the lich make them much more awkward than the 2nd edition. Edged weapons having no effect due to damage reduction and only one character has a blunt weapon.

Paralyzing touch, spells and the creatures awful sword begin to wittle hit points and soon of a party of seven only two have more than 25% of hit points and a couple of players are down (including the paladin).

The players were beginning to get desperate and though the lich was also low on hit points they were looking at fleeing (and abandoning two players) or dying. With hit points dropping again after a few rounds the lich has three hit points and most of the players are down but the extra undead are gone. Things are looking bad for the couple of players who are standing.

Frantic for any sort of damage causing attack one player picks up a snow ball and hurls it at the lich ... "it has to do some damage ... even half a hit point !" A worried DM looking for a bone to throw (pardon the pun) lets the attack go ahead.

Player rolls a "20" ... rolls again and scores a critical hit ... has a strength of +1. The lich is defeated by a snowball.

The chatlog for that session is on my website amongst the archived files for group 1. Take a bow Ailurus, Towoen, Morwen, Luna, Kremwulf, Therion and Dirgham.

August 14th, 2006, 16:21
Running a SLA game at GenCom UK.

The squad are tracking a Ex-War Criminal (super soldier gone mad), an expert in Heavy weapons and explosives.

God: You see the old cooling tower the girl described. Vast chunks of building have fallen away. The only way across seems a service bridge a few levels down.

Human Scout (HS): We've got lines, can't we absail down?

God: Sure, there's a nice open space between the cooling tower and the residential block. Pleanty of good mounting points and a flat wall all the way down. You look over the edge, you see about 10 levels down before the smug abscures the veiw. There are gang planks and walkways criss crossing, only the service bridge leads to the cooling tower.

Squad Leader (SL): The guy's a heavy weapons expert, personally I don't want to be hanging target. We take a stairwell.

God: Your Oyster(plam top) show a couple near by. You take the closest and make your way down. The walls are close, and the floor is covered in a putrid slime.

SL: Send the wraith across the road and take point start of the bridge. Get your rifle out and watch the tower for movement.

Wraith Raider (WR): "Fine, whatever." Full acrobatics, I don't want to end up roadkill.

God: With fluid feline grace you pounce, roll and leap across to the support beam of the bridge.

SL: Rest of squad move out.

God: Your get to the bridge, it has not seen anykind of traffic in decades. Crumbled remains of a fallen walkway and the sides of the cooling tower are spewn across its surface. Tin cans, plastic bottles and all kind of waste jutt out of the rubble.

SL: Ok slowly across, the Cat stays back and watches the tower.

WR: "Fine, Whatever". I put a safety line to the post, just in case the bridge colapses"

I roll a few sneaky detect rolls. Only the human scout succeeds.

Whispered to HS: You notice that a nearby can appears to have been moved, the rust markings are wrong.

HS: Kick it.

God: What?

HS: I'm gonna kick it.

God: You notice the scout hop forward like he's about to kick something. Phase one, what are you doing.

Squad Leader: Jumping for cover
Scout: Kicking the can
Ebon Medic: Reality Fold off the bridge
Wraith Raider: Calling Station Analysis and asking to be transfered to a new squad.

God: <point at HS> The instant you foot connects with the rusted tin can a massive explosion rips your legs apart, your torso flails into the air. Blood gushing from the two stubs, splatters over the mud and debris.
<Pointing at SL> you leap over the edge of the bridge, grabing the hand rail. You feel shards of debris smash against your wrist, penerating the soft armour.
<Pointing at Ebon> You run, trying to formulate the fold in your mind. The explosion hits from behind burning your deathsuit and throwing you past the Wraith.
<Pointing at Wraith> Please Hold, you will be connected to an opperator as soon as possible.

Phase two:
SL: Wheres the scout?
God: Tumbling Mid air
SL: Grab my Grapple gun and...
God: <points at HS> You're a flying target with no legs, You get no action.
<points to Ebon> no action the phase
WR: On hold!

Phase three:
God:The body of the Scout drops past the squad leader. Blood streaming like a ribon of a kite....
SL: Fire grapple
God: Roll it

She succeeds, gets a good roll. Grapple clamps of to a non vital area. His groin.