Dungeons Amp Dragons

Bless All the Animals . . . especially Horses

Submitted by Michael S. Webster

I was a Wizards of the Coast Delegate for the last year of the program. Leading up to the release of 4th Edition Dungeons & Dragons I was doing demonstrations of the new rules. I would demonstrate the differences including Armor Class, Defences and Hit Points. One of the players noticed that his 1st level wizard had 23 hit points.

Later in the demonstration as the group were facing a kobold ambush, he charged the kobolds saying, "I have 23 hitpoints and I'm gonna use them!"

I guess the song "Always the First to Die" is still applicable!

Bless All the Animals . . . especially Horses

Submitted by Shottglazz

In a 2nd Edition AD&D game, we were a mixed group with a few really inexperienced players. The party is in a small town where the townspeople (under magical persuasion) have risen up in a mob against them. Part of the town is on fire and a few hundred people are after them - they are clearly in trouble. The elven priestess (all of 5'2" and 100lbs) is tasked with tending to their mounts while the rest of the group attempts to deal with the crowd. The horses are rearing and snorting - terrified. The player of the elf priestess turns to me (DM) and asks "Can I cast Bless on the horses?". My jaw (and those of the other players) hit the table. I had never considered using Bless to calm spooked mounts. I ruled it would work well for that purpose, and awarded her bonus xp for the "out-of-the-box" use of the spell...

AD&D: World Without Pants

Submitted by scullythevampīre

This was long ago in the mists of time, and I was a *gasp* first time AD&D-er. We were all newbies, and I was buying supplies...

I figured, I should buy some extra clothing too..you know, just in case?

Me: "Okay..can I buy some pants?"
DM: *looks in the eq. list* "Um..there aren't any pants for sale."
Me: "OH MY GOD! MY PC'S NOT WEARING PANTS! NOBODY IS!"
DM: *laughing* "AD&D .. the world without pants"
Me: "No pants no glory"

More pants-related puns were bandied about, and the DM ruled that yes, you can buy pants for 1gp each...

..still. You wondered about how good and wonderful a pantless Priest of Tempus could be.

DM: "Then again, maybe everyone's in drag."

Ever Wish You Could Press Undo During A Game?

Submitted by Eli

My friend who DMs for us is normally very generous. . . ignores encumbrance and the like. Well, we were at a pretty good level, but somewhat short on magic items. He ended up flipping through the Monstrous Manual looking for something to cure this dilemma. He ended up looking at the Deep Dragon, a treasure-loaded dragon which, among other treasure, has a 50% chance to get 3 of each magic item.

We were walking around and found the dragon cave and entered. Our fighter/mage, whom had a vorpal weapon, attacked first, and rolled a 20. The thing about vorpal weapons, is that a 20 automatically kills creatures by means of decapitation. Being the fair type, and that the first dragon was too easy, I made the suggestion that it's mate was in the cavern as well. This turned out to be a stupid suggestion.

The female, being totally enraged, automatically got it's breath weapon to attack with. Needless to say, this was not good. By the time our skin stopped rotting, the fighter/mage who killed the first one was dead, as was the true mage, 2 fighters, and a cleric. All that was left of me was an overwhelming 13 hp, and the paladin with about 20hp. A good thing was that the unhurt thief was at it's back readying a backstab. This dragon had low hit points, so we were able to defeat it with help from the thief. He was the target of its attacks (we rolled 1d4 to see who it would target, although the thief wasn't very happy about this.)

Only the fighter/mage and I were PCs, so I carried him back to town and had him revived. We had a few good items ('few' is probably an understatement, we had an entire sheet of scratch paper filled with a list of them.) The others, we said, were cared for by the paladin and didn't join back up with us. Their purpose for joining us was completed shortly before, and we thought it would stop us from trying to go after any dragons for a while.

Four Foot, Fire-Breathing, Flying, Ferrets, Oh My!

Submitted by Andrew Tarrant

A couple of years ago I got together with a group who had just started with a new party. Unfortunately they had already rolled up their characters while I had none. Rather then roll up a character I suggested that I just play a ferret familiar to one of the party members. They thought this a little strange but decided to let me do it.

As it turned out this curious little fellow soon won the hearts of the other players as well as the DM who seemed to take great delight in taking advantage of his curious nature. So a few spells and potions later I found myself with a flying, fire breathing ferret.

By this time I had taken to perching on my companion's shoulder. Soon after however I found a growth potion which increased my size to about four feet in length and boosted me to 40 HP (At this point nobody else in the party had more then 30 HP). Of course my first reaction to this frightening change was to seek the security of my companion. Unfortunately for him I attempted to perch in my normal place on his shoulder and managed only in slamming him into the ground (doing appropriate damage).

"I curse you right back!"

Submitted by Peitor Murison

I was running an RPGA module with all first and second level players. The characters were enjoying themselves at a party and the time came for them to leave. A little old lady, a threat to no one, berated Matt, who was playing a priest of Tyr, cursing him for his avarice, his greed and his ignorance of the poverty and hunger that surrounded him in the streets. She punctuated each point by hitting him with her cane, an attack that did no damage to anything but his self esteem.

Finally he had enough of this "Old hag's attitude" (his words) and he pulled out his holy symbol and smacked her across the head and said "I curse you right back."

Everyone in the group went silent.

I tried to explain to him how bad an act that was but he insisted on doing it anyway. I had to think fast and find a way to punish him without taking him permanently out of play for committing an evil act.

I told him " The sky opens up and a powerful beam of light pummels you to your knees. A voice inside your heads bellows at you to atone and you feel all your days spells ripped from your mind. Again you hear that voice say "Atone!" He took the hint and headed for his church to spend the night in prayer.

The next morning all the characters awoke, transformed into monsters for reasons that had nothing to do with our priest. He found himself looking like a skeleton. The head of his church ordered him to go to the city watch and get a monster licence before he would be allowed back in to the temple. An acolyte put a leash on him and escorted him to the nearest city watch building. The guards were understandably upset to have a skeleton on a leash walk in to their building so all ten guards drew their magic longswords and told him to disarm and lie down on the floor with his hands where they could see them. Our skeletal hero decided to play the tough guy and give the guards some attitude.

Eventually he dropped to his knees and them finally lay down but he made sure his weapon was placed only inches from his hand in case he needed it. The guards started to tie him up. He took exception to this and grabbed his weapon. I told him that if he didn't drop the weapon these "TENTH LEVEL FIGHTERS, SPECIALIZED IN LONGSWORD WHO LOOK VERY, VERY STRONG" would definitely attack him. His answer to this was "Bring it on!"

There are moments when you just know that disaster will strike. Ten guards against a first level priest with eight hit points and no armour is just such a moment. We rolled initiative. I won. I rolled my first round of attacks, allowing only six guards to attack him. I rolled 20, 20, 19, 19, 17, 16. He was AC 10. I rolled the damage on the six hits and got 8, 8, 7,7,6,4. Then I added the +4 to each roll for the magic and the strength and I announced to him that he had taken 64 points of damage in the first flurry of attacks. He asked me "Am I dead?" I responded "You are so dead that you could be resurrected twice and you would still come back as a corpse."

He confidently told me that his god loved him and would bring him back to life. I pointed out that in the last twenty-four hours he had blasphemed the god of Justice, had his spells taken from him, and been killed in a police station. He didn't have any money and no magic to trade for a resurrection. He said "Oh."

Matt's final comment before he left was " Do I take half damage because I am a skeleton and they are using edged weapons?" Even he joined in the laughter at that one.

Idiocy by Association

Submitted by EnderT3K

A couple of years ago, I was playing a half-elf cleric-fighter with a mixed group of D&D'ers, though all but 3 of us had played less than say, 10 sessions of D&D. I, myself was new, and was made "leader" of the party, though the actual leading was done mostly by an older and much more experienced group member, playing a higher level (6th or so compared to my 3rd) ranger.

Before we did any actual "adventuring" we were in a town, and had a Saurial in the party whom we had to keep tied up to keep the townspeople at ease. There were 5 or 6 of us in the party here, and one other knew sign language, as did the Saurial, so we could communicate. Half a minute into the game, we were approached by a powerful mage, inquiring about purchasing the Saurial for his zoo. All of us immediately shooed him off, knowing this had to be trouble, except for one who thought he could sneak some information off the mage (what none of us could guess). So, he was talking over prices. At this point, the Saurial, only playing what his character would actually do, panicked and broke his leash.

Soon the horses all panicked and I, with animal handliing in horses, was working on calming them, when the mage decided to cast "Darkness" on the entire town, which in turn sent the horses stampeding killing 10 people, got us arrested by the town guard, and caused mass panick throughout the city.

Needless to say, we all ended up rolling new level 1 characters...

"I Go to Sleep"

Submitted by Matt Meyer

I usually DM when we play. We have 4 regular players: Wes, Ryan, Sean, and Dave. Now Wes is actually no regular player. It's harder to describe than to see, but basically a conversation or action can take almost 15 minutes for him to complete. This is an actual conversation between me and him when his elf wizard spent his first night on the plains with a new party:

Wes: "Matt, Matt."
Me: (Groaning) "What is it now, Wes?"
Wes: "When I go to sleep, to make sure that Ryan's guy won't kill me, I sleep with my dagger nearby. Not close enough that if I sleep near it, it will cut me if I roll over, but close enough that if I'm attacked... Aw man. I can't figure out what I'm trying to say--"
Me: "Wes?"
Wes: "Okay I'm going to sleep with one eye open. No then I won't sleep. Oh man! How can I word this?!"
Me: "Wes?"
Wes: "Okay, I'm just going to sleep with my dagger in my hand and lie down, and then I put it close enough so that I won't roll over on it and die in my sleep, but close enough that if Ryan's guy tries to kill me--"
Me: "Wes!!"
Wes: "Huh?"
Me: "Just say, 'I go to sleep'."
Wes: "I go to sleep."

"In Character"

Submitted by Jeff Ober

I'm reminded of part of an adventure our group had a number of months back. We had a group of 5 characters. A LG Fighter (we often called him Lawful-Pierre, since his personal greediness showed at times), a LN thief, a Bard, and a Ninja. We still haven't figured out their alignments yet. Oh, and my character, a mage who had been CN, but after witnessing the horrible sacrifice and death of his closest friend, had been gradually turning LG.

The mage had been the quiet, secret, stereotypical mage for the first half year or so the party had been adventuring, but recently he had been more outspoken. He had become an honorary member of the clerics of the light, a LG group that abhorred evil and darkness. He did, however, manage to keep the fact that he had an owl for a familiar from the group for over 2 years real time!

The group was underground and working towards finding the source of something that was (is) despoiling the lands. Plants were dying, the land was dying, etc. Anyway, they reached a point where there was a large block-like statue that refused passage beyond a point. A disembodied voice did say that any who wished to pass would pay the darkness with blood.

Our thief tried to sneak by, but a cut appeared in his face and he bled. The rock-thing said he was allowed to pass. (He took 1 or 2 hps damage). The bard and the ninja, without hesitating, walked right by, got slashed, and continued. That left my mage and the fighter on one side. We talked for a few moments and decided that we didn't want to voluntarily give our blood to this thing of the underworld. Without warning, and against the wishes of the DM, I unleashed a lightning bolt at the thing while the fighter attacked.

In the end, we did defeat the thing, but we were severely injured. I think between the two of us (lvl 8 & 6), we had about 4 hit points remaining. The other PLAYERS were angry at us for not including them in our plans, but that's what we figured our characters would end up doing. I think my mage is much closer to LG these days...

"Oh, he's just saying that to scare us."

Submitted by Anonymous

DM: "What do you know...there's a ring of human control right next to this unidentified magical codpiece."
PC: "I PUT IT ON!!"
DM: "Cursed, crushing."

Wes and the Ladder of Doom

Submitted by Matt Meyer

It was another regular gaming session, with my four regular players. Two of them had been separated from the party, captured, and locked in a 60 foot tower with only one window (a'la Rapunzel). Wes, the ever vigilant one, ran to the window to see if the bad guys had left the ladder standing there. I decided to have pity on him, and plus I didn't want to have to explain why villains do not leave a means of escape like that. This is what happened:

Wes: "Matt, I run to the window. Is there a ladder going down?"
Me: "Heh heh... Yes Wes, there is a ladder going down, but it doesn't look very stable."
Wes: "Aw man! Well, is there a ladder coming up, then?"
Me: "I just said that."
Wes: "No, you said there was an unstable ladder going down. Is there one coming up??"

After a long outburst of frustration and anger, we finally explained to Wes that there was only one ladder that went up and down, but was old and unstable.

Wes: So if I try to climb down it might break, right?"
Me: It might."
Wes: Okay, well then so I don't fall, I use my daggers and Climb Walls ability to move down the ladder. I get a bonus for using my daggers."
Me: ...You're using daggers to climb down a ladder?"

At this, Wes smiled at his ingenuity and thrust his daggers into the old ladder, snapping it. After rolling up a new character, he made sure he was proficient in lasso.

"You do WHAT?"

Submitted by Steve Jacoby

There was a new player in my group, someone I didn't know (an acquaintance of a regular player), and he was investigating a room full of coffins in AD&D. Of course, one of the coffins was inhabited, and as he approached it opened up to reveal a ghoul, which promptly reached out to attack him. His response?

"I lick him."
Yes, that's right, the player actually had his character LICK the undead creature, which of course paralyzed him and made him an easy meal...

The rest of us were stunned at this reaction, and we're still unsure of this player's sanity. He never played with us again.

Alas, Poor Dwarf

Submitted by Anonymous

There was a dwarf that at one time was with our group of adventurers. He was supposed to help us get into a castle. He showed us a secret entrance that was trapped with poison. Every one had to make a save. Of course the dwarf needed only a one to miss. Guess what he rolled? A one! He died of the trap.

"". . . AND A LICH!"

Submitted by Bill Wire

My friend John rolled up a new character (something he does on a disturbingly regular basis) to bring into our 7th-level campaign. John decided to get creative and so Father Edmut was produced.

Father Edmut was a human priest. An 85 year old human priest. An 85 year old human priest who had once been 18th level until an unfortunate encounter with a Lich and his minions. Father Edmut was an 85 year old human priest drained down to 7th level who had a paranoia of liches, and was senile.

Father Edmut was an interesting character to say the least. On one occasion, we were visiting a neighboring kingdom and the king there wanted us to do a job for him.

Father Edmut asked "Are there going to be Liches involved?" The King said "Not likely." Father Edmut said "Boring." and promptly limped (using his 'walking staff') over to a chair and went to sleep.

A short while later, somebody poked him on the shoulder to wake him up. He awoke from his dream, startled, and shouted "A Lich!" while brandishing his 'walking staff.' Promptly, the 'walking staff', otherwise known as a staff of thunder and lightning blew a hole in the kings roof.

Later, during the mission, the group came across a parchment which only Father Edmut could read. It described a cursed valley in which dwelt various undead. Since it was describing undead anyway, nobody was sure whether or not it was the parchment, or Father Edmut who added "and a LICH!" to almost every-other sentence...

Ironically, Father Edmut died of old age when we found one of the GHOSTS which inhabited the valley along with a family of vampires.

"Are you REALLY Just a Waitress?"

Submitted by Anthony Law

I was DMing an AD&D game with three friends of mine. One was a fighter/thief who just wasn't that bright. In another town, they had stayed at an Inn where the bartender set him up with a *ahem* woman for the night. Needless to say, he was extremely happy.

A few days later, they arrived in another town. Because of the atmosphere I was trying to create, everyone in the town was *extremely* nice. They would always say 'Hi' to you and would always have a smile on their faces.

So, they go to the Inn to try to get some information and a nice young waitress comes over and asks them what they want. Nevel, the fighter/thief, asks the woman "Are you REALLY a waitress?"

She, of course, replied 'Yes'. He asked again, "REALLY?" She, again says 'Yes'.

Then he asks a third time, "REALLY?" *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*

I couldn't take it anymore. She looked him in right in the eye, smile on her face, and said, "Well, I also dabble in the Black Arts."

Needless to say, my friends laughed so hard we couldn't play for the next 5 minutes.

Baaad Idea

Submitted by Ace!

Our 1st Level party was on the way to Waterdeep, and the DM decided to use the random encounter chart, rolling once for each of the 20 days we would be on our journey. He'd roll a lot of "no encounters," and then he'd roll things like "You see 3 cows," or "there's 6 pigs to your right." Finally, on about roll 10, Joe just seemed to snap.

DM: "There's a flock of sheep in the field."
Joe: "Sheep?"
DM: "Sheep."
Joe: "How many?"
DM: [rolls] "40 or so."
Joe: "I scream and charge through the middle of them."
DM: "Okay, the sheep panic and begin to stampede. They trample you and do" [rolls] "fourteen points of damage."
Joe: "But I only have six."

We managed to get Joe patched up, but he was rather complacent until we reached town...

Bubba

Submitted by Anonymous

In a munchkin game we play on the side of our normal campaign, my character a CN wild elf fighter (who is quite insane) found a bag of devouring. This was promptly added to my inventory and just as promptly forgotten.

One session we ended up killing Amon, Duke of Hell. After a while we noticed he was regenerating. Now, as we play, the only way to kill a regenerating creature is fire or acid. Amon, being a Devil is immune to fire, and we had no acid. While looking over characters and trying to figure out what to do I noticed the bag of devouring (we view bag devouring different from rules, think wood chipper as the thought of putting hand in bag and having it chewed off is more amusing). So we promptly fed Amon to the bag. At which point my character dubbed the bag Bubba his pet bag of devouring.

Thinking of ways to add a bit more flavor to Bubba I came upon an idea. Get Bubba enchanted with intelligence (why only swords?), with a special purpose and special purpose power. Int = very high Purpose = slay devils Power = suggestion. I can just see it: 'I, Bubba, suggest you, Mr. Devil, put me on your head'. Or barring this, get two magic mouths with contingency and permanancy spells. After two minutes of combat Bubba starts to scream, 'Feed me! Feed Me!' And once "fed", lets out a huge belch.

Burning Hands

Submitted by Ulrich Lang

I don´t remember the module's name, but it was Sunday morning and - with little pauses - we had been gaming since late Friday. We all were pretty tired, if not near-comatose by now and had actually finished off the main villian an hour or so ago. But this story also encompassed the trip back to our starting location.

Our party found the ruin of an old cottage by the wayside. Most of the roof had given in and a tree grew more in the building than by its side, but it was better than making camp in the wilderness, so we rested there for the night. Of course, the aforementioned tree was no real tree but some type of monster (don´t ask me, our DM had always been rather stingy as far as information on encountered monsters went). Anyway, the tree attacked us that night.

So we all jump up from our sleeping places, grab weapons etc., and rush the beast. But the tree is one tough opponent and we´re having a hard time. Somebody suggests fire, but guess who left his Helm of Brilliance lying beside his backpack and doesn´t have a Flame Tongue to his sword? That would be Kor´Sivan, priest of Tempus . . . me.

So we´re shouting around tactics while battling Treebeard turned bad and somebody asks our Wizard if he couldn´t cast Burning Hands at the tree...

The Wizard replies, "But it´s got no hands - it´s a tree"

At least the memory makes me laugh. The poor fellow was so tired, he confused Burning Hands with Faerie Fire, but that explanation came much too late.

"But I'm really a sweet person on the inside . . . NOT!"

Submitted by Caris

I'd just assumed the persona of a lvl 2 thief/warrior who'd started out as an NPC. She was a sweet little red-haired lass with a COM17, INT15, DEX15. Not bad. I immediately began playing her as a very NON-sweet, little lass.

The party of mostly lvl 4-5 chars had finally arrived at a keep that turned out to have been captured by Bad Guys. We knew nothing and needed information. However, it being winter, there weren't a lot of people floating around outside.

I decided to try scaling the wall and see if I could find anything up there. I made my roll rather easily and hid under my elven cloak. When it became apparent that the keep was guarded quite well and that I wouldn't be able to sneak out the door with a prisoner, I decided the simplest thing to do would be to push one of the guards off the wall into the snow 30' down.

This rather pissed off the paladin, who, having the best strength in the group, got to try to catch the guy. He succeeded, but I failed a stealth roll and the guy yelled, alerting the keep. We had to run for it, and the paladin, being very hardy (i.e., not very bright; as per the definition), ran when we did, but in the wrong direction. I'm afraid he got captured, lost the captive, and had to be rescued afterward.

Stupid paladin. He also didn't appreciate my suggestions about how to make a captive talk when we finally DID capture one of HIS captors. I guess I should have cleared the good cop/bad cop game with him prior to the episode and told him I wasn't REALLY going to break the guy's thumbs.

"The Case of the Open Mind"

Submitted by Parsley

This occurred during an AD&D DarkSun campaign:

DM: "Ok, he hit you for 12 PSPs, subtract them from your total."
PSIONICIST: "OK . . . I now have an open mind."
DM: "Well, what are you going to do now?"
MAGE: "We'll all tell him we're gay!"

Chickening Out

Submitted by Dave Brohman

Three of us (my PC, Arion, Morgan (NPC), and a female fighter of no fixed personality) entered a city. For some reason the player of the female decided that he wanted her to enter the city alone and let us pass through first. We entered with no problem and then just sat on our mounts and waited for her. She pulls up to the gate and the guard on duty makes some comment about a women travelling alone and she starts giving the guy a hard time. Before long, there are half-a-dozen guards there and they are about 2 seconds away from beating her six ways from Sunday. We ride back and tell the guard that she is a friend of ours and he lets her go, mumbling under his breath about teaching her a lesson.

The next day the party is split up and exploring the town. The female runs into the guard and a few of his buddies, who grab her and start dragging her to their barracks for an "ettiquette lesson". As they pass through the market, Arion spots them and steps in. A commotion ensues that eventually attracts quite a crowd and the guard captain is called in.

Morgan happened to be nearby haggling with a merchant over some unseen goods. The guard takes a swing at Arion. While Arion is down, Morgan drops some coin on the merchant's counter, grabs the item and hits the guard with it . . . full in the face with a live chicken!

Arion regains his feet and challeges the guard to a duel of honour. The guard, feeling pressure from his superior over his dreadful behaviour, really has no choice but to accept. Arion walks over, buys another chicken, returns and hits the guard in the face with it!

As the guard was being held back by his friends, the captain asked Arion why he did it.

I replied "Sorry, I thought it was the custom here."

Cloneholio

Submitted by Bob Meyers

My brother, myself, and a few friends were trying out a new system for roleplaying. I had just conducted the previous mission as GM, so my brother took over for the next game. I rolled a Viking Warrior, and nearly everyone else was some sort of magic user.

After procuring our stereotypical mission, our party went forth into the woods. It was not long after that we ran into two rather nasty Orcs. Since all of us had just rolled our characters, (and since my brother had made them too powerful to be dealt with so early), we were in deep trouble. Also due to my brother's ineptitude, the creatures had amulets of magic attack resistance, so my companions, armorless and ineffective, dropped like flies.

The horrid Orcs, however, were no match for me in the end. Among the wreckage created was an orb of some sort. I kept it and proceeded with my mission alone.

After the other players had rolled new characters and I met up with them again, I decided to try out the orb on one of them, naively assuming that an object could not possibly be cursed. However, I was stunned to see a hostile clone of my comrade charging towards me, weapon drawn. I defeated the clone rather easily, and was able to glean some items from the body, copies of what my friend had.

A little ingenuity kicked in after that. My inexperienced GM brother had opened the door to infinite power. The mission was put on the back burner, to the disdain of my brother, for half an hour as I repeatedly used the orb. I would place my only weapon on the ground next to me, clone myself (orb and other inventory included), and repeatedly killed my clone and grabbing the orb and other items from the body, adding my horde of armor and shields to a growing pile. My comrades not only sat back and watched this spectacle, they cheered me on as I gained uncountable amounts of treasure and experience from my clones.

And all my brother would've had to do to stop it was make up a magical block of some sort on cloning orbs, and it'd have been all for naught.

Needless to say, another instance of "Orb of Clone Monster" has never been witnessed at any gaming session I have attended since then.

DSP: Dead Solid Perfect

Submitted by Bradman

We were playing D&D late one night, when we came across a small castle. Being the intrepid (read: caffeine high) adventurers we were, we sneaked in and started looting the place. I was playing a NG Rogue at the time, and I found a wall safe that I couldn't pick. I knew there was something good in there, so I convinced (read: fast-talked) the rest of the group to stay a while longer and search for the key.

We searched for awhile before stumbling upon a secret stairway leading to an evil temple of Baa (the DM was playing Might and Magic 6 at the time). Of course we arrived at the height of the service, and what do I spot hanging from the head priest's necklace, but the key!

We came up with quick battle plan that had me sneaking around to backstab the priest. After a couple of close skill checks, I manage to get into position. I attacked, and hit the priest for good damage. My compatriots jumped into the fray attacking worshippers and guards. After a few rounds, I had the priest on the brink of death. The next round I called for the called shot. I reached out for the key with one hand, said "Baa sucks", and stabbed. I rolled my favorite die... 20! Dead Solid Perfect.

We managed to kill/chase off the remaining guards and worshippers. We made our way back to the safe, and we got our reward. A letter and a signet ring. I got both items by giving my companions gold. What happened with the ring is another story.

Death Hath Many Names

Submitted by Dan

We were playing a low-level campaign. There were 3 of us. A Fighter/Cleric who's name I can't remember, a Cleric named Rameses who was slowly turning into a dragon, and me, a lowly fighter/mage named Griffaul.

A green drake had been attacking the town and we were hired to deal with the situation. The DM quickly realized that we were no match for a drake, let alone 3 of them (which we later found out to be the case). So, we went on many trips into the woods to "spy and gather information" (a.k.a. raking up XP).

In 3 sessions, my character walked away, maybe 3 times. Battle after battle my not too bright, fighter/mage, wearing no armor, would grab his swords and head into seemingly easily winable battles. It would have been the case if he could have hit the broad side of a barn. But to no avail, time and time again he charged bravely into battle and time and time again he was knocked down to negative hit points. But the DM was nice enough to have had several healing temples in town.

After being left on deaths door about 3 or 4 times, my character became 'Griffaul, the Fallen'. After several more deaths and the drinking of an elixir of madness, cleverly disguised as an extra healing potion (Grishak discovered a fondness for the word "peanutbutter" during this little episode) he became 'Griffaul, the Fallen and Bearer of the Mark'.

But the Gods were not smiling on Griffaul and death had become all too fond of his little visits. So after a total of 13 deaths, he finally became 'Griffaul, the Fallen, Bearer of the Mark and Companion of Death'.

Deucalion and the Barghest

Submitted by Der Verdammte (and Arlis Whitefingers)

This is from an actual event in my AD&D campaign. Here is the cast of principal characters:

Deucalion--aasimar paladin of Torm
Michael--very famous high-level paladin of Torm
Lawrence Gaunt--a not-very-intelligent specialty priest of Kelemvor
Morrigan--a rather unpredictable psionicist
Shade--a high level wizard

Note that this tale was related to Arlis by Linus and Niccolo, two guards at Michael's keep who heard what happened from the guards who were with Deucalion. This, however, is the way the tale is told throughout the Haranshire region.

On to the story...

Once, Michael and his companions were setting out into the Thornwood in preparation for a journey into the Planes. The day grew long and they decided to camp. Lawrence Gaunt of Thurmaster set up a tent, preparing to sleep through the night while others guarded him, as is his way. As the others sat up in watch, a magical sleep came over them, so strong that their eyelids grew heavy, they began to yawn, and, one by one, they fell asleep. Michael of the Golden Lion did not succumb to this sleep, of course, but he was far away, having left camp to scout ahead for further threats.

As the companions slept, goblins crept into Gaunt's tent and stole his magical sack, into which he had foolishly placed all of the companions' treasure. In addition, the goblins scrawled obscene slogans into his prayer book like, "Kelemvor sucks goats," and "Death bites rox!" As the goblins crept from the campsite, Michael returned and gave chase. But though Michael's fantastic destrier, Myst, was swift, the goblins had magical aid, and they escaped. After they disappeared, Michael returned to the campsite and beat Gaunt's tent to awaken him. When Gaunt awoke, he was sorely vexed, and he went through his prayer book, discovering the slogans and cursing loudly. This made Morrigan the mind-witch laugh, though she fell into a rage when Gaunt discovered their gems were missing. As Morrigan exploded rocks with her mind, and Shade the Mysterious summoned powerful demons to tell him what had happened, Michael decided to ride back to Spire Keep to inform the mighty hunter Deucalion Agathar, son of angels, of what had happened.

Myst ran with the speed of the nine winds, and they reached the keep in a single hour. Because Michael was in a hurry--he had urgent business to attend to on the Planes--he sent for Deucalion and quickly explained what was happening. Then, with the speed of a hurricane, Michael leapt upon Myst's saddle again and was gone in an instant.

Day One of the Hunt: Ambushed!

Deucalion immediately called the guards he commanded, and chose those who were the greatest in skill--his eight cavaliers, Osmund, Victor, Walter, Tyler, Edwin, Mitchell, Godwin, and Philip. They set out on horseback, canvassing the forest for any evidence of goblins.

Victor, who went off alone, soon found that goblins were stalking him. He sensed them, turning in time to avoid the camouflaged pit directly in front of him. He faced the goblins, who numbered almost two hundred, then he was struck by six arrows, which knocked him into the pit. He fell with a great cry.

Deucalion heard him and spurred his steed towards the sound. He rode amidst the goblins, slashing through them with his ice-born blade, Firequench. Soon, though, more goblins arrived and threatened to overwhelm him. He stopped and dismounted, the goblins falling back in sudden awe. He removed his helm, and his face shone in all its angelic majesty. His eyes turned to fire, and his face was too bright to look upon. Then, calling upon the power of the god-realms from which he came, he spoke a single word of power, and the hand of Torm struck the goblins dead.

Victor was too weak from blood loss to climb out of the pit himself, so Deucalion reached in and grasped him with one arm, lifting him out. He placed both of his hands on Victor's chest and summoned his faith, channeling it through his hands. The arrows, which had still been embedded in Victor's flesh, popped out, and the wounds sealed themselves.

Day Two of the Hunt: The Bear

In the early morning, Deucalion and his men set out again. They began tracing the obvious trail the army of goblins had left, hoping to find their lair. They walked and rode for nearly the entire day, following the trail but finding nothing. As the sun set, they approached a stream and decided to have fish for dinner.

They caught many fish, and had a wonderful meal. After eating, they were all very sleepy, and Deucalion assigned Walter, Mitchell, and Victor each a watch, then went to bed. After Deucalion and the others had fallen asleep, Walter sat watching the campsite but soon his eyelids grew heavy and he couldn't help but to drop into sleep. He was awakened by a snuffling sound near the cooking pot. Looking up, he saw that a bear was stealing their leftover fish. With a startled cry, he flew over to the campfire and hit the bear with a frying pan. The bear looked at him with tiny black eyes, snorted, and drew itself up to its full twelve foot height, roaring with a sound like thunder. With a single swipe of its massive paw, it sent Walter tumbling across the ground with a cracked jawbone.

Deucalion awoke at the sudden noise, saw the situation, and with a single motion he was up and running, still in his night-clothes, towards the monstrous bear. The bear hit him with one, then the other paw, but Deucalion shrugged off the blows that would have killed Walter. Then the bear caught him with its arms and began to draw Deucalion in, squeezing him. Deucalion felt his ribs grind against each other as he struggled in the bear's crushing grip, but he did not succumb. He wrapped his own arms around the bear, calling upon the strength of his celestial ancestors, and began to squeeze back. He felt knotted muscles twist and bunch under the grip of his steely arms, and then he felt bones crack as he pressed inward. The bear's hold loosened. He shifted his grip, then with a sudden effort, pushed himself underneath the bear and lifted the struggling monstrosity above his head. His men, who were all awake and watching at this point, gasped in unison. Suddenly shifting his hold again, Deucalion rotated the bear's body and slammed it down, head first, into a huge slab of stone by the stream bed. The bear lay unconscious for a few minutes, then shook its head and lumbered off to nurse its cracked skull. Deucalion tended to Walter's injuries, then his own, and spent the rest of the night guarding the camp himself.

Day Three of the Hunt: The lair of the goblins

Deucalion and his men got up early again, and they set out on the trail. After a few hours, it appeared they had finally traced it to its source. They left the horses to wander in the forest while they crept to the fortress of the goblins.

When Deucalion pushed aside the underbrush and looked out into the clearing, he was amazed at the sheer size of the mighty basalt fortress. Goblins were everywhere, covering the area like ants on a discarded candy apple. There were at least a thousand of them. After a few moments, their leader appeared. He was a colossal goblinoid travesty of nature; he stood over twice as tall as Deucalion himself, and his entire body bulged with massive knots of muscle.

As Deucalion watched, one of the goblins walked up to the leader, head held down in a submissive posture, and delivered news to him in a mumble. Apparently, this was not good news, because the goblinoid leader threw his head back with a bestial roar, and scooped the offending goblin up in one taloned paw, snapping the goblin's bones. As the half-dead goblin limply struggled in his leader's iron grasp, blubbering and crying for mercy, the goblinoid fiend, with a single, massive effort, threw the goblin against a basalt wall. The goblin's body disintegrated in a splash of blood and shattered bone, and the other goblins in the vicinity scattered. Turning away from the crimson stain on the rock wall, the leader left the area.

Deucalion had seen creatures like this goblin leader before. They were called Barghests, and they hailed from the foul eternal volcanos of Gehenna. It was capable of conquering huge kingdoms with its foul goblin armies. He had to stop it.

Removing his helm to reveal the pure pearly light of his angelic face, his eyes blazing with celestial wrath, he called upon the powers of the heavens which lay within him, opening a gate from which streamed a host of beings composed of pure light--Archons. The archons swarmed around the goblins, searing them with the energies of pure Good, and Deucalion called upon his men to charge.

The eight cavaliers rushed forward and were immediately swarmed by goblins. Deucalion broke into a charge, slicing through any goblin foolish enough to get in his way as he sought the barghest. As goblins exploded in Deucalion's wake, the barghest charged him. It charged forward with blinding speed, and pounded him with talons forged in Gehenna, tearing through the enchanted plates of his armor like they were thin parchment. Deucalion's inner light became an exploding volcano as the holy strength of his fathers issued forth in his devastating attacks. His sword strikes seemed to hit pure iron, so tough was this barghest.

The cavaliers began to be overwhelmed by the goblins. Walter and Victor had fallen, and the goblins swarmed over them like a thousand biting insects, stabbing and punching them into unconsciousness. Their cries alerted Deucalion who, with great effort, shoved the barghest backwards, shrugging off claw strikes that would have toppled a mighty redwood, and dived into the mass of goblins, tossing them away as he pulled Victor and Walter out of the mob, channeling the healing power of Torm into each of them. While he was healing them, goblins were climbing over him, attempting to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. Effortlessly, he moved back to where the barghest had been, tearing goblins from his armor as he went. He recovered his sword just in time to be tackled by a massive wolf. Its slavering jaws closed on his gorget, mangling the enchanted metal as the teeth sought his throat. Deucalion stiffened; then, summoning all of his strength, he grabbed the wolf by the neck, held its massive head away from him, and sat up, sloughing off the vermin-like goblins who were still trying to overwhelm him. He stood, holding the struggling wolf off the ground, his arms straight out in front of him, and then he threw the wolf against the wall of the fortress.

The wolf hit the wall with a sickening crunch, then disappeared. Deucalion again reclaimed his sword, and began to tear through the goblin masses, leaving hundreds of small bodies in his path. The pure light of the archons struck all around him, destroying every goblin it touched but leaving all else intact. The goblins began to retreat--then they rallied again. Deucalion turned just in time to see the barghest standing over him. Its talons rent his armor, tearing flesh beneath. He was too close to use his sword, so Deucalion dropped it, crouched, and sprang at the barghest's throat, wrapping his steel-like fingers around it. He locked his plate-covered legs around the fiend's chest, and pressed inward with his fingers. A fearful gurgling sound issued from the creature's mouth. Its muscles rippled beneath him and its long, ape-like arms wrapped around his shoulders. The barghest's taloned hands reached Deucalion's throat. He heard the scraping of the tortured steel and sparks began to fly before his eyes.

Deucalion's vision narrowed, blackness creeping in until all he could see was the barghest's twisted face. He gasped for air. Finally, summoning every last ounce of strength, he pulled back with his legs and waist, using the leverage to press his fingers harder into the fiend's neck. Tendons like steel cables began to part, and finally Deucalion's fingers found the tough fiendish cartilage. With a final explosive effort, he squeezed his thumbs into the cartilage and felt a popping sound as it ruptured. The barghest's arms loosened around him, and it reeled, choking and gasping. Deucalion rolled as he hit the ground, reclaiming his sword. With a final, feeble red light in its eyes, the barghest hurled itself at him, but with a single sword-stroke, Deucalion severed the hellish head from its massive body.

At the sight of their leader's defeat, the remaining goblins--which numbered no more than twenty--fled the scene. Deucalion found each of his cavaliers and healed them, then they went into the fortress and found that it contained items which had been stolen from all over Haranshire. They brought the horses back, loaded them with the wealth from the tower, and went to return the stolen goods to their rightful owners.

"Didn't I Say, 'No Mushrooms'?"

Submitted by Anonymous

We were sitting down on the usual fri. night to play D&D. We were in this pyramid in the middle of the desert. Half of us wanted to be there half of us didn't. Tankwert(6th lev. mage played by me)and a friend Twit by name(actually I think it's a nickname, wild mage 5th level) didn't want to follow the rest of the group down into the lower levels of the pyramid.

Well now it just so happens that as we walk into the pyramid a sand storm starts up outside. Now we're trapped. So the meat heads of the group(Zara 6th lev ranger, Matt 7th lev. fighter, and Bodini a 6th lev fighter/mage) decide to take it upon themselves to lead the group down into the pyramid's lower levels. As soon as they come to a landing ( the meatheads, Tankwert and Twit decided to stay one step behind them) they see a suit of armor and it animates and attacks them. They defeat it with not much of a problem and continue down with Tankwert and Twit one step behind. They come to another landing with an identical suit of armor that animates and attacks. Being meatheads they use the same method of smash it to little bits they did before. This time however a strange green gas shoots out of the suit of armor. All the meatheads had to save vs. poison.

All make their saves, except Bodini. Now Bodini is a glutton for punishment anyway. Bodini is a 6th level fighter, but he is multi classed and also a 6th level mage with an int. of 18(though he doesn't play it). So Bodini doesn't make his save. He falls unconcious and Matt(very big guy in full plate) has to pick him up and carry him out of the green gas.

Matt drops Bodini with the two wizards who happen to be on the landing just a level above the one with the green gas. Tankwert and Twit complain and tell Matt they can't do anything because obviously they're not priests. As this conversation is going on though Bodini is changing color to a hue of green and is sort of changing appearances before our eyes. He is growing moss on his body and is turning into a giant mushroom. He wakes up surprised that he is a giant mushroom and starts to complain while everyone else just laughs. Bodini( or mushroom boy as we called him)can't even pick up his own equipment.

Well we ended up finishing the adventure with Bodini as a mushroom and it took quite a while to change him back. There was a particularly funny encounter with the priests from the temple of apathy(they gave mushroom boy a jar of dirt and told him to use it), but that's a different story.

"Didn't I see you on the Titanic?"

Submitted by Rodrigo Citon

Floating on the sea in the middle of a storm, after a particularly violent shipwreck, one player is the only one to think of gathering enough planks to form a pseudo-raft. Unfortunately, he immediately tries to light a fire with the driftwood.

DM: "You try to light a fire in the middle of the raft?"
Player: "No, I try to light one of the planks floating in the water"
Player: Looking bewildered at the rest, who are rolling in the floor with laughter. "Hey, cut it out. I have fire building!"

"Do you have a liscence for those?"

Submitted by Bill Wire

Our Saturday night group was just starting a new campaign, and nobody got together to discuss what characters the others were creating, so we wound up with an unusual mix. As it turns out, everybody created either a warrior or a thief, and the only character who wasn't an elf was a dwarf. So, here we have a group of 5 elven fighters and thieves, hanging out with a dwarven warrior. The usual dwarven-elven racial friction manifested, but because we were all PCs, and there to have fun, it didn't go beyond a few occasional snide remarks in-character.

We went on our first adventure for the local magistrate who hired us to track down some thieves who had been troublesome of late (failed to pay the proper bribe). Our group started their investigations, and much to the annoyance of the elves, found that the thieves lair was underground. Namely, somewhere in the city sewer systems.

After exploring the sewer for several sessions, and wiping out the thieves guards as we went, we were ambushed. It was terrible, and the group barely escaped. But it was a double ambush, with our escape routes also guarded. When we ran into the second ambush, our mighty dwarven warrior died in combat. It was the end of the session, so there was a whole week for a new character to be rolled up. Here's how he joined us:

DM: "You're walking along the street, keeping your eye out for anything unusual, or any of those little job posting flyers people tack up. You stop near a board to check out the job prospects when you hear a hollow sounding metallic scraping sound behind you."
Elven Mage: "I turn around and look."
DM: "You see that the manhole cover in the middle of the street has been pushed aside. A male elf in disheveled clothing, climbs out of the hole and looks back down. He calls back "OK, now!" and an arrow with a rope tied to it sails out of the manhole."
Elven Mage: "This is interesting. I watch what he's doing."
DM: "He grabs the rope and waits. A few seconds pass and one, two more elves climb out of the manhole. Both in a similar state of disrepair. They begin hauling on the rope. Whatever it is, it must be heavy."
Elven Mage: "I walk over behind them and watch."
DM: "Shortly, and with a great deal of heavy pulling, a body dressed in plate mail emerges dripping from the manhole. It appears to be a deceased dwarf pincushioned with arrows."
Elven Mage: "I lean over and look. Then put a friendly hand on one of their shoulders. 'Yep, Looks like a keeper. What kind of bait did you use?'"

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Submitted by Bill Wire

Our group was adventuring deep in a desert where we came upon a fortress, abandoned for centuries. Being adventurers, and that being an abandoned fortress, and adding in rumors of a particular artifact we were searching for being located in (guess what?) an abandonded fortress, we entered.

The fortress was huge, and not quite as abandoned as it appeared. The upper levels were full of undead, and some of the deeper ones had a colony of strange scorpion/man creatures, cursed to guard the artifact. Eventually, after many a satisfying battle, we cleared the fortress of the forces of evil. Until the theif found a secret door...

"What could be behind that secret door?" we asked. So we checked it out. It was a tunnel. It went down, and down. Eventually, it opened into a maze. Minotaurs? We wondered, but were unafraid. So we traveled through the maze until the passage once again sloped down. Until we were walking through water up to our ankles. Just then, the DM gives the thief a note.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?" asked the wizard.

"Mer." whispers the fighter.

"That! Did you hear it?" exclaimed the thief.

"Mer." whispers the fighter.

"Mer." whispers the priest (with a big smirk)

"I didn't hear anything. What did it sound like?" asked the wizard.

"Mer." says the thief.

"Mer? Lots of creatures make that noise." states the wizard. You'll have to do better than that. It could be anything from a bullfrog (likely given the water), to say-I-don't-know, a Blue Dragon. Give me more to go on." states the wizard.

(At this point, the DM is ominously silent with a poker face which none of us players catch.)

"Mer." Fighter, wizard, priest, in unison as the thief turns back to the doorway and looks through.

"There it was again. I'll go check. Stay here." whispered the thief.

A short time passed as the thief scouts the enormous dark room beyond the doorway. His movements far from silent in the two feet of water covering the floor. The rest of the group is chuckling over their joke.

DM: "You all hear something."

"What?" asks everybody.

"MMMMMMEEEEEERRRRRR. KRAKOW!" Says the DM in a "big" voice.

"Everybody save vs Dragon breath. -4 because it's Blue Dragon breath and you're standing in water."

As it turns out, there really was a Blue Dragon in that dark room. What the thief heard was a snore. Our merriment woke him up and it seems that "Mer" translates as "What the F?" in the language of Blue Dragons...

Most of us survived the encounter with the dragon (who escaped) but were in no shape for the long trek across the desert that followed. Not to mention the recurring visits from a very annoyed dragon the whole way.

One year a GenCon, there was a shirt dealer who sold a blue dragon shirt. We got him to put "Mer" on it near the dragons mouth and gave it to the DM. He got a big kick out of it.

"Dragon's are Wimps!"

Submitted by Creighton Broadhurst

New definition of suicide: A 5th level priest of Mayaheine charges an adult green dragon because he didn't know how strong they were. Ironically the same (ex-) character fled from bugbears because they are too strong.

An Equine Interrogation

Orignally by Mark Van Kruger

I was DM'ing for an exeptional group of role-players. The party consisted of a Paladin (Ryan), a Life-loving Monk on a mission to find 'God' (Justin), a somewhat paranoid Thief (Mike), and a happy-go-lucky NPC Bard (aren't they all?).

During a Journey to the land of the Evil Southern Tyrants, the party was ambushed late at night by a party of slave-raiders from the aformentioned southern kingdom. After a comical and bumbling battle, only the leader of the raiding party was left, and the characters (who made it out unscathed) needed some information . . .

Unfortunatly the guy just wouldn't talk.

Thinking about a way to get the man to talk, the Paladin asked for suggestions. The conversation went something like this:

Paladin: "Does anyone have any suggestions?"
Everyone but the monk: "Uhhh.. No."
Paladin: "Terrance (The monk), What the hell are you doing?"
Monk: "I'm Drawing."
Paladin: "What are you drawing?"
Monk: "Your horse."

The party looked to see the Paladin's horse chewing on the head of an unseen attacker, who was charging the Paladin (SAFETY TIP: NEVER charge a Paladin when his mount is watching)

Paladin: "Gladius! (the horse) Stop playing and put that man Down!"

The horse snorted, casually snapped the man's neck, and walked over.

Being slow to get the thought, the Paladin again pondered the idea of the unwilling prisoner, when a light sprung into his eyes. . .

Paladin: "Gladius! If this man doesn't talk, Chew his Arm off!"

Eric and the Gazebo

Orignally by Richard Aronson

Let us cast our minds back to the early days of fantasy role-playing... In the early '70s, Ed Whitechurch ran "his game," and one of the participants was Eric Sorenson, a veritable giant of a man. This story is essentially true: I knew both Ed and Eric, and neither denies it (although Eric, for reasons that will become apparent, never repeats it). The gist of it is that Eric... well, you need a bit more about Eric. Eric comes quite close to being a computer. When he games, he methodically considers each possibility before choosing his preferred option. If given time, he will invariably pick the optimum solution. It has been known to take weeks. He is otherwise in all respects a superior gamer, and I've spent many happy hours competing with and against him, as long as he is given enough time. So... Eric was playing a neutral paladin (Why should only lawful, good religions get to have holy warriors? was the rationale) in Ed's game. He even had a holy sword, which fought well and did all those things holy swords are supposed to do, including good or evil (by random die roll). He was on some lord's lands when the following exchange occurred:

ED: "You see a well-groomed garden. In the middle, on a small hill, you see a gazebo."
ERIC: "A gazebo? What color is it?"
ED: "(Pause) "It's white, Eric."
ERIC: "How far away is it?"
ED: "About 50 yards."
ERIC: "How big is it?"
ED: (Pause) "It's about 30 feet across, 15 feet high, with a pointed top."
ERIC: "I use my sword to detect whether it's good."
ED: "It's not good, Eric. It's a gazebo!"
ERIC: (Pause) "I call out to it."
ED: "It won't answer. It's a gazebo!"
ERIC: (Pause) "I sheathe my sword and draw my bow and arrows. Does it respond in any way?"
ED: "No, Eric. It's a gazebo!"
ERIC: "I shoot it with my bow (rolls to hit). What happened?"
ED: "There is now a gazebo with an arrow sticking out of it."
ERIC: (Pause) "Wasn't it wounded?"
ED: "Of course not, Eric! It's a gazebo!"
ERIC: (Whimper) "But that was a plus-three arrow!"
ED: "It's a gazebo, Eric, a gazebo! If you really want to try to destroy it, you could try to chop it with an axe, I suppose, or you could try to burn it, but I don't know why anybody would even try. It's a @#%$*& gazebo!"
ERIC: (Long pause - he has no axe or fire spells) "I run away."
ED: (Thoroughly frustrated) "It's too late. You've awakened the gazebo, and it catches you and eats you."
ERIC: (Reaching for his dice) "Maybe I'll roll up a fire-using mage so I can avenge my paladin..."

At this point, the increasingly amused fellow party members restored a modicum of order by explaining what a gazebo is. This is solely an afterthought, of course, but Eric is doubly lucky that the gazebo was not situated on a grassy knoll.

Fidro the Killer-Kender

Submitted by Søren Nissen

We are currently running a DragonLance campaign in the local roleplayer's organisation. We are playing pre-cataclysm campaign and have just been captured by a bunch of ogres (or maybe 9,999,999 ogres; we actually have no clue whatsoever about how many there are). My character is a female STR 19 centaur, and the bastards had me locked into a room with the party kender, Fidro. I was tied up in shackles, but I could still move a bit and make attacks with my hands.

One of the ogres entered the room. He closed the door behind him and promptly walked towards me. As I was placed rather low, he lowered his head down so it was facing me, at which point I made a called shot towards his face (We have a house-rule, saying called shots to the head have a 5% chance of knocking out the opponent per point of damage.) I knocked him out cold, performing a stunning flex of my str 19 arms. I then proceeded to beat his face into a bloody pulp. We took the key from him, and unlocked my shackles and the cage the kender were in.

Now, he's a rather strong kender (STR 15), so we came up with a plan. The kender REALLY wants to be a hero, and I told him: "You stand with that club in your hand over in that corner, and all the ogres will start fearing you." He did so, and I pulled the dead ogre over to him. and walked back to the stable area.

After a short time, the guards entered the room, feeling a bit strange about their gambling friend spending so much time with the prisoners. As they entered, this was what they saw: A half dead centaur, placed exactly where it should be, a dead ogre and a kender hefting a club that's twice its size. The kender took a step forward and all the ogres fled the scene. After this event, the DM has ruled that all ogres must roll a Wisdom/Willpower check or flee from the righteous wrath of Fidro, the Killer-Kender

"GET 'IM!"

Submitted by Andrew Mc Dermott

I run Ravenloft, and I'll admit I try to make it scary and usually fail. Maybe it's me, maybe it's my players. One of the funniest moments we've had whilst playing is in the adventure "When Black Roses Bloom".

Playing, we have my sister, Beki as a thief, my brother, Christopher as an elven cleric and my friend, Matthew as a ranger/bard. I was the DM (as if you hadn't guessed!)

Part of "Black Roses" involves the players going into and spoiling Lord Soth's fantasies. This one is when they prevented him from stopping the cataclysm:

Mat: "What's happening?"
Me: "Lord Soth is walking up the corridor."
Bek: "How do we stop him?"
Chris: jokingly "We could jump on him."
Bek & Mat: "OK!"
Me: almost crying with laughter behind my DM's Screen "You jump on Lord Soth. Beki, Sasha has her arms wrapped around his legs, Christopher, Thorbin has Soth's arms pinned to his sides and Mat, Taliesin is sitting on Soth's chest and is punching him in the face."

Still, it could have been worse. In one of the last game sessions we had they where exploring a wizards lab in "A Light in the Belfry".

Christopher had succesfully passed a half Wisdom check and was happily playing with one of the experiments.

Beki tried and failed her Wisdom check. It states in the adventure to "open the players guide at the spell list and stick your finger in it. The spell your finger is on gets cast."

Just their luck it was lightning bolt, cast at 13th level, mind you. Beki and Mat passed, taking only 25 points of damage. Christopher failed and went BOOM as the magical electricity caused Thorbin to explode into healthy bite-size elven chunks. Beki became dispondent at killing a party member, whilst Mat asked "Can we resurrect his body?"

To which I answered, "No."

The Gladiator-Priest

Submitted by Lord Korath

A little background: We were playing in Greyhawk, doing the Temple of Elemental Evil, and I believe we did a side adventure, and one of the characters was a Gladiator (Kit and all), my character was a fighting-monk (priest's handbook kit) priest of the God Heironeous (initially war god from Priests Handbook). My character has always been battle crazy (He charged at two bandits with loaded X-bows when he was 1st level, meanwhile the two other fighters ducked for cover, but that's for another time).

Anyway, we went to this castle that the Gladiator was invited to to join the Gladitorial games, and so we put off ToEE for a bit. Anyway, the Gladiator went in to fight his first opponent, and won (but barely), and as the only priest in the group, and rare in the area, I was asked if I would use my powers of healing, to return the competitors back to health, and I agreed.

Now here is where it gets interesting ;-) On my way to the back, after watching the Gladiator PC win, my presence was requested, and I went to the back. It just so happened that Lars a huge hulking fighter stopped me before entering, and he said (in an Arnold Swartzeneger (sp?) voice) "Only Fighters allowed past, puny man", and I responded "I am a fighter" (I happened to wear two longswords ;-), and Lars said "I crush you like dwarf over there." (I believe it was his previous opponent), and I was like "You wanna go ?" ;-)

Anyway, as it turned out, as the next pair was going out, Lars tossed one of the competitors out of the way, and went back into the arena, and I followed him. When the third PC saw my character walk out there he was like what the hell is he doing in there. Needless to say, my AC is 10, I have a strength of 13, and a Dex of 12. I got in 3 shots, but his two finished off my 22 hp (4th level). Needless to say the announcer was like, "oh no, our cleric is dead" ;-)

Due to the type of weapons used, the damage dealt was like punching damage (3/4 temp).

Of course, like everything, it's hilarious at the time of the game.

"Gods are Gods and Temples are Their Homes!"

Submitted by Chris Kusel

A few years back my friends and I were playing D and D.

After clearing an evil temple where over half the party were killed in one way or another we came upon a strange door with 3 sets of matched gems set into it. We tried to open the doors with the usual ways to no avail. Someone suggested trying touching the gems in sets or patterns

Barrak, a half-orc fighter who was on the edge of freaking out, coined this phrase "I ain't touching that damn door. Haven't you guys learned any thing here? Gods are Gods and Temples are their home!" The two remaining PCs tried the taking gems resulting in one of their deaths with the repeat from Barrak: "Gods are Gods and Temples are their homes!"

Too this day, any time someone gets near a temple, the war cry is always the same ole, "Gods are Gods and Temples are their homes!"

A Gourmet Meal

Submitted by Sean L.

We were at our regular weekly AD&D session when it became apparent that our DM, Apollo, wasn't prepared. Undaunted, I was named the temp DM and made up something on the spot. Eventually the party found themselves at the mercy of several magical doorknobs.

Unfortunately for this party, there was a gully dwarf among them. The gully dwarf (being played by our temporarily exiled DM), was caught by a doorknob that made his hair grow very quickly. Soon, he was bound by his own hair and someone had to cut him out. Being that close to a gully dwarf, of course, requires a constitution check.

Diana (the player of the unlucky elf who chopped the gully dwarf free) burst into laughter as her character threw up all over the gully dwarf. Undaunted, the smelly fellow began eating his own vomit, with Apollo providing vivid descriptions. This required a constitution check from the whole party. Everyone failed.

The gully dwarf couldn't be happier, and he set about to his feast. Apollo's vivid descriptions of chewing on squishy chunks was so nauseating that it sent Diana running to the bathroom where she decided to follow the example set by the characters. A few minutes later, she returned to find no sympathy, merely a group of people rolling around laughing our dice off.

We couldn't help but give her a refund on her share of the pizza we ordered.

The Great Chicken Fights

Submitted by Jim Vowles

This is a tale of Decker's World. Decker's world is a place where magic and technology exist in balance, and where both have advanced to a great high level. Our characters had progressed quite far in their powers, being at that point somewhere around 9th level and holding some reknown in the world.

Well, when we got to Mike's place (Mike being the DM), he really had nothing for us, having had an excruciating week at work. So he improvised, and the Chicken Fights were born.

Our party arrived just in time at our favorite inn, only to find the place mobbed. In the center, a great big ring, and all around, the widest selection of assorted humanoids you've ever seen. The rules: two teams' chickens enter the ring and duke it out. Each contestant must be at least 50% chicken.

Well, when you've got advanced magic and tech to play with, you can get some really INTERESTING chickens. Among them:

The dwarves' Clockwork Chicken
The necromancers' FrankenChicken
The drow chicken, which pulled up in a limousine and gunned down the other chicken in a spray of bullets, mob-hit style.
The lizardmen's DinoChicken (imagine a 50', radiation-breathing Godzilla chicken!)

We spent the entire evening betting on the races and had a blast. It wasn't till we were ready to go home that we realized that not a single one of us had rolled a die all night.

Half-Ogre? Half-Wit!

Submitted by Alan R. Plechaty

Not many players enjoy playing characters who have low stats. But I must say that these can be some of the funnest. I had a Half-Ogre fighter. His Intelligence and wisdom was about about a 6. He could barely speak common.

The first time I played this character, he had fallen into a pit and took one point of damage from the fall. The DM asked what the half-ogre did. I told him that he looked up to see how high the pit was. The DM explained that the top of the pit was about six feet up. My half-ogre, eager to leave the pit tried to reach the top, but was unable, so he just sat in the bottom of the pit.

My half-ogre had been in the pit for about an hour, when a mage came along played by one of my fellow Gamers. Upon reaching the edge of the pit he looked down, and saw the half-ogre sitting in the bottom of the pit. A little confused, the mage asked the ogre in common why it was in the pit. Borg my half ogre just looked up at him and said "Me fell in, cant get out to high" The mage was even more amused by this, and began laughing. Borg being extremely tired of being in the pit and having a sore buttocks asked the mage to help him out. To which the mage said ok. The mage told Borg to stand up and pull himself out. Borg thought for a moment, stood up and realized that the pit was only about 7' deep. He reached up and pulled himself out.

Once out he gave the mage a big hug, and promised he would not let anyone hurt the smart one. From that day on, Borg became the mages shield, much to the mages delight.

The Half-Wit Ogre Duo, and 'The Great Shiney'

Submitted by Ghavas

A few Years Ago I was running an AD&D campaign of my own design. The group consisted of a CE human mage, Nicodemus, A LE, half-elf Fighter thief, Ledorian, a CN human Cleric, Cyricus, and two very half-wit CN half-ogre fighters with a combined intelligence of 9, Grog and Gorg.

The party was wandering through a mist covered plain When they came upon a huge chasm; the bottom and opposite side hidden 40 feet down in swirling mists. The group was adamant about exploring the bottom of the chasm believing there was great loot to be had down there. Of course no one wanted to go down. So, as it had happened so many times before, the more intelligent members of the party went about convincing the half-wit ogre duo that they indeed wanted to go down there.

Grog being the braver of the two ogres and always willing to prove it states "Ok, Me go down." Ledorian, securing 100 feet of rope to his waste and lying the rest coiled upon the ground walks back to the rest of the intelligent members of the party to discuss the situation. They spoke for a few minutes about dividing any treasure they might find. Finishing their discussion just in time to turn and see one ogre standing close to the brink staring intently over the edge and the coil of rope very quickly uncoiling as its dragged into the pit by 800 lbs of Ogre.

There is a resounding crash deep down in the midst of the chasm as the ogre hits the bottom of the 60 foot deep rift. Grog bellows out "Me ok! ooowwww look it all da shineys!!"

What ensued after that was a mad dash by the greedy players to make it to the bottom of the pit as fast as they could. Little did they know that while Grog had been picking up the small polished black stones at the bottom of the pit he was beset by two black puddings that made the chasm there home. Fleeing for his life he had climbed up the rough hewn chasm wall opposite the one he came down. The PCs finally making it the bottom of the pit began looking around for the 'shinys' that Grog had been yelling about. Needless to say the party barely escaped with their skins.

Dragging their corroded and bleeding bodies up the rough hewn wall to find Gorg Merrily playing with his 'Shinys' at the top. After Camping, healing and much bickering and finger pointing the party continues on into the misty plain. They walk for a few more hours and come upon an odd scene. A huge basketball-sized gem shinning brilliantly and suspended in mid air about 6 feet off the ground. The ogre duo seeing the awesome gem both cried out "OH LOOK IT! THE BIG SHINNY!" and began bolting toward the brilliant gem. Great bellows and Shouts of "NOOOOO dont touch that you moron! Leave the shinny alone! Get away from that!" sounded through out the group. The ogres were restrained just before grabbing the gem. Fearing a trap the party began looking about what they found amazed them two armies in mid charge, volleys of arrows in mid flight all frozen and this brilliantly gleaming gem in the center.

The Mage being possibly the greediest player I have ever DMd for and being CE decided that now was his chance. He wanted that gem for himself and the rest of the party be damned. Casting fly and flying 40' above the ground he planned to swoop down and grab the gem from the foolish ogre, he yells down, "Gorg, get the shiny". The ogre needing no further prompting quickly grabs the huge gem. Freeing the frozen armies to continue their charge toward the PCs. Also to the evil mage's dismay, freeing several hundred arrows in flight arcing through the sky and into the flying mage.

The pincushioned mage falls to the ground, dead. The ogres and the rest of the party try to escape the onrushing doom but only the ogre's one carrying each other with his boots of speed manage to escape. Only to be killed a day later while trying to wrestle a vampire into submission, but thats another story.

Having a Devil of a Time

Submitted by Stefan McCarter

My group once went into a underground city to stop a great evil. It turns out the great evil was some local "devil worshippers" where trying to summon Baphomet. Of course the group entered the room just as he was summoned. They attacked him with everything they had and only made a small dent.

So they hi tailed it out of the room with a small army of skeletons, zombies and ghouls chasing after them. They managed to make it one level up and lock themselves in a room to get some rest. They knew they where safe from Baphomet for a little while because the spell used to summon him also held him in place for the first 48 hours before setting him free on the world. But those two days the group spent trapped in that small room fighting off a army of undead. The wizard and cleric would regain there spells and use them all up within 30 minutes of game time. I ruled the priest could only pray once per 24hrs for spells but the wizard would be able to sleep after being awake for 10hrs and fighting.

This was real fun (for me at least). The group would get a good start blasting the undead with the spells, the priest would turn lots of them and the ranger and barbarian would just trash a bunch of them. But then the thief would get koed and they would have to save him, stop him from dropping to -10 and get back into the room before they where killed.

On the third day Baphomet. shows up looking for the fools that actually attacked him. But I have to give it to the group. When Baphomet did show up they went to town on him. The wizard used everything he had on him, One fighter gave it his best and ended up be splattered against the wall for it. The barbarian with his 18.76 STR and did some damage and the ranger with his artifact sword finally got the job down. While the priest held the undead army at bay and the thief managed to last six rounds and then became food for the ghouls.

Head of Vecna

Submitted by Mark Steuer

Many years ago (back when we all were still playing D&D), I ran a game where I pitted two groups against each other.

Several members of Group One came up with the idea of luring Group Two into a trap. You remember the Hand of Vecna and the Eye of Vecna that were artifacts in the old D&D world where if you cut off your hand (or your eye) and replaced it with the Hand of Vecna (or the Eye) you'd get new awesome powers? Well, Group One thought up The Head of Vecna.

Group One spread rumors all over the countryside (even paying Bards to spread the word about this artifact rumored to exist nearby). They even went so far as to get a real head and place it under some weak traps to help with the illusion. Unfortunately, they forgot to let ALL the members of their group in on the secret plan (I suspect it was because they didn't want the Druid to get caught and tell the enemy about this trap of theirs, or maybe because they didn't want him messing with things).

The Druid in group One heard about this new artifact and went off in search of it himself (I believe to help prove himself to the party members...) Well, after much trial and tribulation, he found it; deactivated (or set off) all the traps; and took his "prize" off into the woods for examination. He discovered that it did not radiate magic (a well known trait of artifacts) and smiled gleefully.

I wasn't really worried since he was alone and I knew that there was no way he could CUT HIS OWN HEAD OFF. Alas I was mistaken as the Druid promptly summoned some carnivorous apes and instructed them to use his own scimitar and cut his head off (and of course quickly replacing it with the Head of Vecna...)

Some time later, Group one decided to find the Druid and to check on the trap. They found the headless body (and the two heads) and realized that they had erred in their plan (besides laughing at the character who had played the Druid)...The Head of Vecna still had BOTH eyes! They corrected this mistake and reset their traps and the Head for it's real intended victims...

Group Two, by this time, had heard of the powerful artifact and decided that it bore investigating since, if true, they could use it to destroy Group One. After much trial and tribulation, they found the resting place of The Head of Vecna! The were particularly impressed with the cunning traps surrounding the site (one almost missed his save against the weakest poison known to man). They recovered the Head and made off to a safe area.

Group Two actually CAME TO BLOWS (several rounds of fighting) against each other argueing over WHO WOULD GET THEIR HEAD CUT OFF! Several greedy players had to be hurt and restrained before it was decided who would be the recipient of the great powers bestowed by the Head... The magician was selected and one of them promptly cut his head off. As the player was lifting The Head of Vecna to emplace it on it's new body, another argument broke out and they spent several minutes shouting and yelling. Then, finally, they put the Head onto the character.

Well, of course, the Head simply fell off the lifeless body. All members of Group Two began yelling and screaming at each other (and at me) and then, on their own, decided that they had let too much time pass between cutting off the head of a hopeful recipient and put the Head of Vecna onto the body.

SO THEY DID IT AGAIN!... [killing another PC]

In closing, it should be said that I never even cracked a smile as all this was going on. After the second PC was slaughtered, I had to give in (my side was hurting)...

And Group Two blamed ME [Mark] for all of that...

"Hey, Cupid! Put the bow down!"

Submitted by Michael S. Webster

We were adventuring in the Underdark against the Drow. Our party consisted of a human ranger (played by Brian), a pair of gnomes, Wink and Dink (played by Mark D.), a valley elf named Thystle (played by Mark A.), and Qucalion, a grey elf fighter/magic-user (played by me). We were waiting for my second character, a grey elf cleric (who would be our only cleric) named Tyroc to enter the scene.

At that moment, we see three figures walking down the corridor towards us, one short, two tall. Thystle calls out, "Shoot the little guy, he's the leader!" At which he fires two arrows from his magical long bow. They hit the smaller figure in the legs and he goes down. The rest of the party and engage the others, who turn out to be lizard man slavers. The smaller person, their slave, was my second character, Tyroc.

While bandaging his wounds, Thystle appolgizes to Tyroc. He stands up, lightly places his hands on Tystle's shoulders and says: "I forgive you my son, but not for being a Valley Elf!"

Hill Giant Blues

Submitted by Trellon DarkSky

I was running a short adventure for my gaming group when they discovered a girdle. This closely resembled a girdle of Hill Giant strength that the Justifier Ranger in my group, Trevlak, had seen in an earlier adventure. He imediately put it on and found out that it was actually a cursed girdle. It immediately turned him into a Hill Giant. This made navigating the tower we were in very difficult, especially the doors.

Well, to make a long story short, he went off on his own and encountered an Iron Golem that was supposed to be avoided or bypassed. He immediately attacked. First hit he rolled a natural 20 and leveled the golem with 48 damage (the maximum). Well Mr. Golem (80 hp) fell down, shook the whole tower and proceeded to get up and completely beat him bloody.

We later found his dead 800 pound body which we had to drag out of the place and have have resurected (almost all the revenue from the adventure), he came back as a human (by some mirical) but as a woman, we tease and taunt him to this day for that.

A Horse is a Horse, of Course. Unless it's a Centaur.

Submitted by Dennis Fowler

Several years ago, I had been running a Basic D&D game on Saturdays in one of the local gaming shops. Using alternate rules from various books, I had quite a collection of players. A thief, Cleric, Centaur, Wooddrake, a few NPC's running about. A new character, a wizard had just joined our group that Saturday (he never asked what everyone was playing). The party takes a job as a group of Caravan guards, and proceeds to head off on the trail...

A few minor encounters here and there, and then a random event of unparralled interest.... in the middle of the road, blocking the path is a Mule. The Centaur walks out to the mule (Mind you, Centaurs can talk with all equines.)

Centaur: "Excuse me Mr. Mule... but you're blocking the way."

Mule: "I'm not blocking the way... you must be mistaken."

Centaur: "Well, You know.. the humans behind me won't understand that.... Do you think I could talk you into moving for about 30 minutes while we pass through?"

Mule: "Well, yes.. I suppose I can do that..." at which point, the mule walked into the woods and out of sight.....

The Centaur walks back to the group. "there.. that's all taken care of.."

At which point, the Wizard quips... "I can't beleive you let a talking mule go...."

The party busted out laughing... The wizards player didn't think it was the least bit funny..... (At least until we explained it to him....)

How to Win Friends and Influence People Through Torture

Submitted by Anonymous

This happened recently in an AD&D game I ran.

The party consisted of 1 dwarf fighter, 1 high elf thief, 1 high elf gladiator, and 1 high elf wizard.

The party was busy clearing out the thieves' guild which had an iron grip over a town called Jezrael. It was during one such raid that the following took place:

Me: You reach the Foaming Mug Tavern. The last member of the thieves' guild that you interrogated said that this tavern held a private dancing hall in the back.
Dwarf: We enter.
Me: It appears to be an orinary tavern. There is a singing bard in one corner and the patrons seem to be having a good time drinking thier worries away.
Wizard: I approach the barkeep.
Me: "What can I get you?"
Wizard: "How about the company of a lady?"
Me: The barkeep studies you for a moment, then says "They're in the back" and gestures to a door behind him.
Wizard: I signal for the rest of the party to follow. We go through the door.
Me: You go through the door and see five dancing girls on a stage that are entertaining about ten people among the tables and chairs in the center of the room. As you look around you see a figure sitting in the shadows of a dark corner. He doesn't apear to notice you.
Dwarf: I walk up to him.
Me: He says "Good evening" in an casual way.
Dwarf: I say "Good evening in a casual way, then swing my battle axe at him.
Me: *stunned* He is surprised and tries to get out of the way. *roll* *roll* *roll* He just manages to lean to one side as your axe cleanly severes his arm from his shoulder. Everbody else in the room screams and runs out the nearest exit.
Gladiator: I return to the main tavern and get a hot poker.
Me: OK, the barkeep looks like he is about to protest, then looks in the back room and thinks of something better to do.
Dwarf: I start questioning the thief. "Where is the guildmaster?!"
Me: He screams in pain in response, and his eyes never leave the stump of his arm.
Gladiator: I make use of the hot poker to burn his stump closed.
Me: Ok, he passes out from the pain.
Dwarf: We pick him up and leave the tavern.
Me: The barkeep tries to stop you. "Hey! wait a minute!" then sees who you are carrying and says "Never mind, just don't come back here again."
Dwarf: Whatever. We take him to the nearest ally and wake him up.
Me: It takes two waterskins and a slap on the face to bring him around.
Dwarf: "Where is the guildmaster?!"
Me: "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY ARM YOU . . ."
Dwarf: I smack him. "Where is the guildmaster?!"
Me: "What guildmaster? I don't know what you're talki. . ."
Dwarf: I smack him again and repeat the question.
Me: "I don't know, I'm just the new guy, I...
Dwarf: I kick him in the ribs.
Me: "Ok, ok... he's at the Drunken Fox Inn... where they !%&@ your mom for free!
Dwarf: I gut punch him.
Me: "Alright" He struggles for breath. "He's in The INN OF GAY DWARF SEX!!" then he spits at you.
Dwarf: "Enough games" I pop my knuckles then say "Where is the guildmaster?!" and punch him in between each word. Then I say "understand?"
Me: He is barely able to lift his head, but when he does he nods.
Dwarf: "Good."
Me: "Sorry, changed my mind."
Dwarf (pretty mad): Dammit. "This is your last chance. Where is the guildmaster?!" And I punch him again.
Me: "Ok enough.." he coughs up blood. "His headquarters a r e i n..." cough cough "the palace."
Dwarf: DAMMIT! I give him a final punch to the head before I reach for my axe Me: You knock him out with your punch.
Gladiator: So we're off to the palace?
Dwarf (highly irritated): no, we go to the next place on our list, where the last guy we interrogated said we'd find a gambling ring.

It took these guys about half the evening to find the thieves' guild headquarters, and when they did, they managed to infiltrate the guild and kill the guildmaster deep underground in his own chambers. It just so happened that there were about 60 or so thieves between them and the surface that they had to get past if they wanted to get out alive. . .

Ah! I love being a GM.

"If it wasn't for bad luck . . ."

Submitted by Sidney Kuhn

"If it wasn't for bad luck . . ." My halfling thief Gus, had been finding all the traps but he had absolutely no luck disarming them. In fact he managed to trigger each trap he found which resulted in a lot of ribbing. Poison, broken limbs, puncture wounds, falls onto a bed of spears, etc.

The latest trap was found and Gus warned everyone to back away which was done with practiced speed.

Gus sprung the trap on himself as usual.

The GM looked through the book for the latest way to maim poor Gus. We waited for a few minutes and I was wondering what was taking so long. Wondering if this was the end for Gus. As usual if it wasn't for bad luck my PC would have no luck at all.

The the GM smiled. This was a bad sign.

GM: "Everyone sees a giant spider standing where Gus was. Roll a d20, Sid."

I could see another PC going down the drain but I rolled well. Gus retained his sanity.

One of the other PCs asked, "Is that you Gus?"

Gus looked around, raised his right forward leg and waived it, and then scratched his head with it.

Unable to speak Gus watched as the mage of the party aimed an unidentified wand at Gus and commanded "Halfling!"

GM: "Everyone sees a halfling standing where the mage was and the wand disappears."

Two down.

The cleric decided that she will open the door since the trap has been sprung.

GM: "Another bolt of energy comes from the door. Now . . . let's see . . . Naw, not an archer bush. AH! Everyone sees a cat like creature with two tentacles coming out of its back."

Three down.

The party returned to town to regroup.

To be continued . . .

The Iguana Test

Submitted by DanieL

A year or two ago we played a long-running campaign of Das Schwarze Auge, a fantasy rpg quite popular over here in Germany. (It has no separate directory and therefore features here.)

We had just helped a trek of beggars to build a small town in the middle of nowhere. Our characters were separately involved in all the administrative work (i.e. logging, foraging, etc.). The medic of the group decided to look for herbs in the nearby swamp and explore the surroundings a bit. Waist-deep in muck, he happened upon a hunting party of Lizard Men. They were armed, but did not appear threatening. After staring at the medic for a few moments, they chattered among themselves, then one of them pulled a dead iguana from his pack, and handed it to the PC. Alex, the player, was unsure what to do - none of us knew anything about Lizard Men, and what this iguana could possibly signify.

So he smiled politiely, bowed, bit the iguana's head off, and rubbed his stomach to indicate how nice it had tasted. The Lizard Men stared at him, wide-eyed, and fell over laughing. He was on best terms with them after that.

To this day, we have no idea what the iguana was supposed to be used for, and our GM stubbornly refuses to tell us. This incident has, however, gained a certain local infamy as "The Iguana Test". Whenever a character is thrust into an unfamiliar situation with everybody staring at him, then he is undergoing The Iguana Test.

Illusionary Levels

Submitted by Giova "Tibo" Bottegoni

One of the worst things AD&D players have to face is the energy drain. Especially so if their DMs were as chaotic evil as mine was. He believed it to be funny to spread wraiths and vampires worldwide.

Seven yaers ago, more or less, my party and I (playing a mid-level wizard) arrived in a strange tower without windows, and we realized too late that it was a vampire's lair. To cut a long story short, we were running out of spells, hp, magical arrows, etc., when we entered a trap-room, with no ways out except a very small hole in the middle of a wall.

Illusionist: "I cast wraithform"
DM: "Well, then?"
Illusionist: "I go through the hole"
DM: "You're now in a small room, there is a lever in the front wall and a wraith near the lever. The wraith ignores you because of your spell. Now what?"
Illusionist: (Thinking): "I could turn material and work the lever, then cast another wraithform spell...."
Me: "No, Don' t! It could be a trap: the walls could start shrinking, our room filling with water or poisonous gas! Watch out!"
Illusionist:: "Yes, you're right! But I' ve an idea! "
DM: "So, what are you going to do?"
Illusionist: "I tap the wraith's shoulder and ask If the wraith could please tell me how the lever operates...."
DM: (trying to be serious): "You what? Roll a wisdom check!" The Illusionist rolls a 20!
DM: (hardly stopping from laughing): "You lose two levels of experience!" Encanted wraiths! What a kind DM!
Illusionist: "But the wraith didn't even attack me!"
DM: "Didn't need to! You touched it voluntarily!"

"I Said, 'Don't Piss OFF the Horse'!"

Submitted by Chaos731

While not as funny as the infamous "Head of Vecna" story, this one is good for at least a mild chortle. I was running an AD&D campaign with five players, one of which played a barbarian-like warrior character called "Angus" (not a terribly original name, I know).

Anyway, Angus was the "leader" of the group, and the group had many a skirmish I can tell you. Well, they were an amazingly "hardy" bunch of adventurers, and I use the term "hardy" in the sense of "not tremendously bright".

So, this hardy gang traipsed from village to village, cutting a swath of destruction and dozens of unwanted pregnancies across the land. Anyway, in one particular town (we'll call it "Town"), the adventurers were suddenly set upon by the local militia, comprised mainly of gentlemen who could best be described as "considerably larger and even hardier than the adventurers".

Well, Angus decided to protest when the militia informed the party that they could not wear their armor or weapons. Much riotous humor and hardy adventuring ensued, the end result of which being that the entire party (except for Angus) managed to get itself captured and imprisoned. Angus, seeing an opportunity to be a hero, hardily set out to free his companions (except for the thief ... nobody liked that little bastard).

To make a long story short (too late), Angus managed to rescue the rest of the party, after which time one of the party was seriously injured (again, not Angus). Angus decided to hardily exact his revenge by running around town that night peeing on every horse that he could find. From time to time, he would stop at a tavern to "reload", but he would soon be out again, peeing on horses. When his urine-laden rampage had ended, and the casualties were counted, over 100 horses had been soaked to the bone. "Damn," Angus must have thought, "I certainly am adventurous! Also hardy!" The party then fled the town, leaving behind them yet another legacy of hardiness in the highest order. The humble and, as it turns out, amazingly pee-sensitive inhabitants of "Town" would not soon forget the great, Red-Headed Warrior named Angus.

I Think I'll Keep Him...

Submitted by Richard Kier

This story is from my old gaming group back in Utah.

We were involved in an AD&D campaign, and I had brought in a new player who turned out to be the worst kind of munchkin. He was constantly cheating on his rolls, lying about his hitpoints yadda-yadda, you get the picture.

Anyway the party had just entered a room and John, the DM had described a pedestal with a red velvet pillow on it, and on ther pillow was a small clear marble, and my character, a 7th level mage was carefully inspecting the pedestal, pillow and marble without touching it. Well, the munchkin shouts out, "I run up and grab it!"

No sooner does the munchkin grab the marble than he vanishes into thin air. The marble drops back onto the pillow.

After some identification and finding a scrap of cloth with some magic words inside the pillow, my character learns that he now has a warp marble, With the annoying munchkin character trapped inside.

The DM asks me what I plan to do, and we are all tired of this players crap, so I say with a smug grin, "I think I'll keep him."

The munchkin gets angry and storms out of the room.

It's All in Your Mind.

Submitted by Dave Robinson

In another Dice Tale I told everyone about Shadis, my insecure wild mage. That wasn't the only mistake Shadis ever made, but the party was much more forgiving of him after that (after getting fire resistant clothing and some spells to negate fire damage.) He actually made some rather shining uses of his magic sometimes, and this was one of them. We were storming a keep where a dragon cult was hiding, and ran across several parties of guards. Ran through is probably a better term, this party wasn't known for its subtlety.

DM: "You see a group of three soldiers ahead of you, each wearing light armor. Two of them have crossbows and one has a short sword. The one with the sword has on a helmet with strange markings, and appears to be in the lead."

We fought them and examined the helmet.

Slayer: "What does it do?"
Shadis: "No idea. Anyone?"
Priestess of Aphrodite: "Maybe it was used for communication?"

We examine the helmet more and found this was exactly right, it was a Helm of Telepathy.

Shadis: "I have an idea."
(Picture the old show Perfect Strangers, when Larry said 'I have a plan.') Party: "Oh s**t!"
DM: "So what are you going to do?"
Shadis: "I'm going to pick up the helmet."
DM: "Are you putting it on?"
Shadis: "No, I'm holding it. I'm summoning a shadow, just one."
DM: "OK, he appears. 'What is your bidding, master?'"
Shadis: "Put on this helmet."
DM: "OK, he puts it on and starts to look very vacant."
Shadis: "Can you speak with other people? Can they see me?"
DM (Shadow): "Yes, would you like me to speak with them? Shadis: "No, just checking. I cast Phantom Killer on the shadow."
(Target faces worst nightmare to the death. Mind based spell.) DM: The shadow goes crazy."

Then he stops to think about what I had just set up. He laughs and thinks some more about it.

DM: "I can't think of a reason that won't work. You hear screaming from all around the camp. The shadow is about to attack you, though."
Shadis: "Cast flight on him, take him up a few hundred feet."
DM: "Hmm."

We still laugh about how everyone in that camp who was wearing a helmet suddenly went crazy and died. We spent the rest of the session terrorizing the rest of the troops to try and demorolize them, and it worked fairly well. Every guard we ran into after that was completely convinced that they were being invaded by a powerful army of dragons. Looking through the manuals, we couldn't find out if it was 'illegal' or not, but the DM gave me credit for ingenuity.

It's Tough Being a Paladin or "Why Can't I Just Kill Her?"

Submitted by Sidney Kuhn

In a D&D game that I was running, our Paladin and the rest of the party were investigating a ruined village. Smoking ruins and badly mangled bodies was all they could find. It looked as if the village had been destroyed by dragons.

As the party spread out, looking for survivors, our brave Paladin was bending over one body when he was struck from behind.

He drew his great sword and whipped it around to do holy vengance on the evil creature who had back stabbed him.

Standing before him was a girl barely able to hold her short sword in both hands yelling "GET AWAY FROM MY MOTHER!"

The little girl was a Steel Dragon in human form who was suffering from amnesia. Her family was the target of the dragon attack and a evil magic-user had cast a spell that kept the Steel Dragons from changing back into their true forms.

The Paladin and "little girl" were later married after a series of adventures, and after she found out who she really was and had become his War Mount (gift from the Paladin's god).

Kappas Off to You!

Submitted by Mark

DM: "The Kappa tries to drag you (1st Level Fighter) under the water."
PC: "I'll drop my sword so it falls down and hits the monster." (The kappa didnt mind however)

"Keep Walking, Shield Boy."

Submitted by Mark Van Krueger

None too long ago, I was playing another game with a very talented group of role-players.. This time, the party consisted of, A thief (my character), a very loud mouthed, yet, witty Assassin (played by my friend Ryan), a none too bright, none too gracefull, and overtly ugly (charisma of 4)fighter (played by Mike) and A Mage (a beginning player named Stacey)...

Our fighter, After getting drunk and thrown out of a bar into a large, steaming pile of horse . . . uh . . . you know . . . washed himself off, and wandered into the bar where we were located. Having such a low charisma, he immediatly started a fight. After losing his sword and being beaten, he was released out of pity. our friendly assassin (odd, yes . . . but played well) laughed at the poor Schmo. To which the fighter, got angry and stood up (to his full height of 6'3) and the assassin (of about 5'10) didn't back down. Having lost his sword, the fighter prepared to bash him with his shield The assassin spoke, "Are you so threatened by my tiny dagger that you must pull forth thine shield against me?" The fighter (already demoralized) just sighed, and went back to his seat.

"That's right, keep on walkin' Sheild Boy.." Remarked the giggling assassin.

To this day, even out of the game, Whenever Mike says something.. our response? "Keep walkin' Shield Boy.."

"A Kender, Gentler . . . um, Nevermind."

Submitted by Marc

We were playing through the DragonLance series. We had a fairly large party (3 M-U, Cleric, Kender, Dwarf Fighter, Minotaur, Bard, a couple fighters) and were in the big battle against Ember (Verminaard's Red Dragon).

Ember was atop a crumbling tower raining firey death down on us, bam 3 mages down, one of the warriors is down as well. The others managed to escape most of the flames. The tower begins to crumble, slowly bring Ember down to our level. Missiles weapons prove to be pretty ineffective but they are a distraction to him.

After several rounds of dodging dragon spells and rocks we finally get to attack with melee weapons, which isn't necessarily any more effective. The cleric receives some divine power from Mishkal and resurrects the mages which give us some serious firepower. Everyone is chopping and getting chomped by Ember. Slowly, or not so slowly, Ember is decimating our group. But we are taking a pretty good toll on him.

Finally we just about have him dead and the Kender(who has been hiding the whole time) winds up with his Hoopak and flings a stone at the dragon. Bang, a natural 20. Our DM has him roll again(a natural 20 indicates a possible critical hit, the second roll determines how critical) Another 20. Dead dragon.

The rest of the campaign the Kender told everyone we meet how he killed a dragon. The minotaur would never admit that the event even took place after that.

Leaps of Faith

Submitted by Tim

I once DM'd a group who generally came up with really wonderful ideas.

In this particular adventure, two local families had been causing problems around town and the authorities did not have the resources to deal with them. The group ignored them until their house (yes, they buy houses!) got burgled.

Full of revenge, they tricked both gangs to meet in a barn outside town. Slowly but surely they drew their plans against them.

All bar one PC would hide downstairs in the barn and as the families came in, they would be drawn to middle by a (fake) gold staute. Here they would be ambushed and dealt with.

The remaining PC, a thief, would climb to the rafters, swing down on some rope and throw bags of flour (yes flour, it would cause confusion, obscure vision, breathing difficulties and make the NPCs easier to see)into the NPCs, whilst the other PCs picked them off. He would then throw daggers into the mess causing as much damage as possible.

Very clever I thought and I explained to the thief there would be penalties for him swinging around in the air etc. and he was ok about this.

They set their ambush, the thief conversation went thusly:

PC: "I'll climb up the rafters, how high up is it?"
DM: "oh, about 30', have you made your roll?"
PC: "Yep"
DM: "Now you're up there, did you remember your rope?"
PC: "Yes, I've got a 100' with me"
DM: "Ok, what do you do?"
PC: "I'll tie one end securely to the rafters and tie the other end around me."
DM: "OK, one end of the 100' rope is securely tied to the rafters and the other end is tied to yourself"

The NPCs came in as planned and took the bait, the thief leapt off the 30' high rafters with a 100' rope and . . .

He hit the floor, the flour bags exploded and he certainly caused confusion (and a concussion)!

In a later adventure the same thief wanted to perform an action that was in effect a bungee jump. Of course, rubber ropes didn't exist but he did suggest that a wet rope would stretch.

Fine, I allowed him to use a wet rope (cut to the correct length). He tied one end securely to a nearby tree and tied the other end around both his ankles. He hobbled forward and leapt of the cliff..

Shame I didn't rules for broken ankles....or being smashed against the face of a cliff...

Love, Halfling Style

Submitted by Michael S. Webster

While at Air Force Technical School in Chanute, Illinois studying to be a weather observer, I found a gaming group that played at the base rec center on weekends. Bringing along my favorite character, Qucalion, I joined them for the first time one cold, wintery day. After meeting the rest of the party I was amazed that a female halfling (played by a female player) was seriously flirting with me. She was attracted to me because I had a high Comliness, as did she. But I had no interest in a relationship with a female halfling other than adventuring. But she continued to persist her flirtatious actions; cooing, nuzzling, and sitting on the bar and tickling my ribs with her furry feet (this is a turn on?). Due to her own high Comliness, she had a chance to charm me, but being an elf, and 90% resistant to charm, it had no effect. This did not daunt her in the least.

After a few adventures, many of which had the female halfling continuing her charm attempts, she finally succeeded when I failed my resistance check AND saving throw. The last game I played with this group before being transfered to me new assignment, was us rolling for chance of the halfling being pregnant. I've never seen that group of friends since then, but I still think that somewhere, in some campaign, there's a halfling/grey elf hybrid adventuring.

The Magic Ring ... NOT!

Submitted by DanieL

A few years ago I DM'ed a rather lively AD&D campaign. One of the characters was Daria, a swashbuckling fighter. One day, the party was exploring a strange old wizard's tomb and found a ring. Actually, it was a ring with the power to detect invisibility (something which they would need later in the campaign to find the ethereal island...).

Robert (Daria's player): Well, is it magical?
Me: How do you think you can tell if it is?
Robert: Hmmm. What does it look like?
Me: It is a plain silver ring with a small gem set into it.
Robert: I think I'll turn it.
Me: Well, the gem is gone (meaning: it is on the underside of your finger).
Robert: IT'S MAGICAL!

"Make Ready, Wizard!"

Submitted by Michael S. Webster

During a zero-level campaign, the three intrepid neophyte adventurers stumbled upon some brigands lying in wait for a group on horseback coming down the road. Suprised, the brigands stood up, at which point the 'warrior' shouted to the wizard's apprentice, "Make Ready, Wizard!" Fortunately this caused the brigands to pause long enough for the riders to come to their aid.

The apprentice later told the 'warrior', "The next time you call, 'Make ready, wizard,' I'll shout, 'Right Behind You, Paladin!'".

"Make Your Saving Throw vs. Sleep!"

Submitted by Rando Patton

While playing a marathon session of "Greyhawk Ruins", we had been playing for 12 hours and were still doing well. As the gaming went on into the 'wee hours I called for one of the party, Charlie who was playing a Fighter for three years, to roll to 'to hit'. Charlie blinked a few times and asked,"What dice do I roll for that?"

Charlie had been up for three days straight.

"Meteor Vegetables"

Submitted by Anonymous

We had a mage in our party that lived to get his 9th level spell. From the very beginning, he wanted to get meteor swarm. When he finally obtained it, he never used it effectively. Three examples are:

In the bloodstone wars, Blackmouth "cleared" out a red dragon lair by using it... The dragons appreciated the bath, and the meal of NPCs waiting outside. :)

When fighting orcus, there was ONE party member that was effectively doing anything at all against the demon lord. Trying to help, Blackmouth fired off the meteor swarm and killed off half the party... much to orcus's amusement.

When trying to rescue a party member from himself (he was quite insane), the party met the terrasque along the way. (The crazy bastard mage they were trying to save unleashed the terrasque on his former comrades.) Naturally, the meteor swarm harmlessly bounced off...

AND... not to mention glueing his staff to the floor... but I digress...

Most folks would have just bought him a drink...

Submitted by Jim Vowles

Once, long ago, when my old gaming group was young...

Our party was going through the classic adventure "Tomb of the Lizard King" -- as amended and altered by the infamous "Mr. Steve" Miller, our DM -- and had reached the point where we needed to find a guide into the swamps. Steven DeMenace, a madman believed to be the pawn of the wily old lizard, was to be that guide, but he was skittish.

In fact, Mr Steve had loads of fun with this particular lunatic, rambling on about "Snakes in my hair! Oh my!" and inquiring about the bugs on the ground, and in general playing thoroughly over the top.

My character, a wizard by the name of Alabaster, was elected to try to convince the fellow to help us out. Nobody is quite sure how it happened, but poor Alabaster ended up eating a bug in an effort to gain ol' Steven's trust. It worked of course, though I had to make a save vs. barfing.

Steve is long gone, but I've had a blast running that particular encounter with my gamers over the years. I've been able to get more adventurers to eat bugs with the old madman than you'd ever believe....and it never stops being fun!

Next time, try Wizard Eye Instead

Submitted by Larry Creager

Way, way back when I was attending college, our gaming group was doing a standard dungeon crawl. Our party got lost and had taken some considerable damage that left out fighters pretty chewed up when we came to a door that our thief heard trollish voices behind. The high-ranking wizard cast ESP and deduced from their thoughts that the trolls were gathered close together around a cooking pot in the middle of a large, cavernous room. Therefore, he decided to take them all out with a lightning bolt before they had a chance to react. He had another PC Knock the door open as he hurled the bolt in.

Everything went according to plan except for one thing. While the room was indeed large and cavernous, the door was in a small alcove off the main room and the wizard hurled the LB directly into a stone wall 10 feet away. Result - 1 charbroiled wizard for the troll's dessert.

Never Trust a DM Who's a Physics Major

Submitted by Larry Creager

The original members of my college gaming group had risen to fairly high levels and had created an 'air force' of sorts by each PC having subdued a dragon as a personal mount.

One fighter had begun patrolling around his castle's domain alone, secure that he was unbeatable atop his green dragon. One day, he spotted a large troop of orcs on the march. Rather than go for backup, he decided to strafe them a few times to disrupt their march and set his steed into a screaming dive. Unfortunately, he forgot that orcs often have a fair number of archers and his dragon was pincushioned to a fare-thee-well.

Annoyed but unconcerned, he bailed out of the saddle, sure that his boots of levitation would save him and he would wade into the orcs for a while before quaffing an invisibilty potion and slip away. Unfortunately, he forgot that levitation only worked just so far above ground level and the GM told him he was picking up speed.

The GM happened to be a physics major who took it as a challenge to compute whether the boots would be able to slow him down fast enough when they kicked into effect. Taking out his calculator and a number of computations later, he arrived at the fighter's speed when he hit the ground. Figuring out the equivalent free-fall height he rolled the dice.

The fighter was releved to see that, while enough to stun him unconsious for a while, it wasn't enough to kill him and, since he'd fallen into a brushy area, he'd recover long before the orcs could find him. Unfortunately, the boots were still operating and his unconsious form rose back into the air, where it made an excellent orcish archery target!

No Atheists in Dungeons

Submitted by Anonymous

We were sitting around playing one day and we were kicking everyt