Dungeons and Douchebags: My Gaming Life Part 1

My longer term groups have had surprisingly normal people, though the odd drama bombs have happened.

However we had one fellow whose exploits are still mocked 7 years later as a warning to others.

The game was a 3rd edition D&D (Maybe another reason why I hate D20?) game set post War of the Lance Dragonlance. Cept with Warhammer 40K Tyranids, Deep Ones from Innsmouth, and other such things as I could reasonably fit into the game without making it blatant I would much rather be running a Sci Fi or Horror game instead of Elves and Dragons.

The problem fellow, who will be called Dumbass (or DA for short) for this tale had a Silvanesti Elf Paladin. A holy warrior of nobility and light mixed with Emo Elfness.

Well, that's how such a character generally would be expected to play.

There were many warning signs this was not to be. You know that Summoner Geeks Dead Ale Wives video? I made the mistake of showing it to the group. He quoted that 5 minute short ENDLESSLY. He was also known to go "DOOD!! SCHWEEET!! Like, WOAAH!!" as well. He also (currently) has 4 kids with 4 different women. I consider the fact 4 different women would even do this dumbsnot a cosmic slap to my face. At the time he merely had one, who he would sometimes bring to the game, who would be left unattended and would generally wake up the host's sleeping baby and wife by being noisy and as obnoxious as he was. (His wife of the time was also amazingly obnoxious. She would come to pick up the child or them both and annoy us, though thankfully she was there for a shorter period of time each session.)

However, it is his actions in the game that truely earned him our hatred.
The host ran a CN Dwarf Fighter whose chargen rolls were pure unbelievable heat. I saw him roll this heat. This character was vaguely the leader of the party, though mostly interested in his own skin and a personal vendetta with their archnemesis Galthik, an Aurak Draconian who somehow became the main villain after our 1 shot became a campaign.
The Dwarf tended to get into combat quickly where he mangled things about. However he tended to engage in combat alone.

Because our Paladin decided upon hearing of the FLANK BONUS that from there on out, he would merely flank anything the Dwarf charged or attacked. "ILL FLANK!! SCHWEET!!!" was heard on many a day.

Ok, so bad so far. But again, only mildly stupid.

It was during a horrific dungeon battle against the Comet Monsters 40K goons know as the Tyranids that his stupidity began to shine like a giant beacon of suck.

A player was leaving, and another had left after one session without bothering to tell anyone. (Many of our players are merely stopping by as one of our regulars is an extremely nice guy who tries to rope them into playing even though most of them REALLY aren't interested, but don't want to hurt his feelings. Thus we get short term people who muck up the works for a week or two then go away never to be seen again. But he does a better job of recruiting than myself and the host. The Internet has NOT been good for finding gamers. Sheeet, posts at game stores don't help. Of course when those folks our regular tries to get leave with no notice given I always feel like its my fault even though they were the rude ones, giving me an extra helping of I SUCK. Life does enough of that on its own.)

Thus I decided to have the drop out character killed gruesomely, and the leaving character captured to come back later as a hideous bioconstruct I let the leaving player know about since it would be a long time before he would ever come back. (Which turned out to be never, but he did become a gamer in other groups. He was also VERY protective of these little donut thingies he liked back then. But that is another tale.)

It went off swimmingly with the players investigating an underground complex connected to a well, and a splash as the leaving player's character was captured, and the droupout's killed with Genestealer claws slashing through his skull.

Naturally as an Aliens fan, when the bodycount starts, all hell breaks loose. They kill some lesser Tyranids, and meet a Tyranid Warrior, which is about 12 feet tall of chitin, 6 foot long scythe arms, and 2 other arms holding a giant gun of flesh dissolving explosive death. The surviving party defeats it, and I get ready to unleash the entire horde, causing a nifty escape sequence to the docks, where a leaping Tyranid type called Hormagaunts would jump onto their fleeing boats as their transport, a mutant shark, would be chomping through the lower hold.

This was put on hold however.

What could cause this band of bloodied adventurers to pause and not get to more of my (if I do say so myself) cinematic inspired awesome?

The Elf Paladin decided he wanted to take a victory piss on the giant monster of alien death they just beat.

I guess the only way he would attack something head on is if it was dead and he had his wang out.

Now, as a horror fan, this was too good to pass up, so I decided it had at least one good final claw swipe left in it, aimed right for the little flanker. I put a STUPIDLY high Reflex saving throw to avoid having him sing soprano, and of course he rolled a natural 20, instead merely getting a slash above the designated target and some hit point damage.

There was more stupid to come. Later on I turned Lovecraft's Innsmouth into an island town that was allying with Galthik. The party went to investigate, losing 2 more PCs, one of which was leaving for a time, the other just wanted to make a new character. They got back and reported on the nasty nasty fish people and their evil ways to the Knights of Solamnia, who were the PC's bosses. Thus they returned with lots of troops and multiple interesting missions to make sushi out of the townsfolk.

One team gets their asses utterly handed to them with a new player's PC learning the horror motto of DON'T GO ANYWHERE ALONE, and the other takes it on the chin, but holds out decently well. (The newbie would inspire new horror stories when the group had to switch to Saturday mornings for a while. Both his DMing failures and his bathing related ones.)

Enter Dagon, the 50 foot tall plus giant god leader of the Deep Ones, represented on the miniatures table by a 10 inch tall Godzilla toy that roared. (Sadly, the battery has since died out. The King of the Monsters, the Daikaiju of Daikaiju has been silenced. Till I crack him open and put in a new one.) He introduced himself by throwing down a severed bronze dragon head and throwing a ship halfway across the harbor. The surviving PCs and Knights of Solamnia set up down Main Street, bows and spells at the ready. I have an NPC on Dragonback ready to pull them out of the fire as I doubt they can handle it and the NPC who was rather beloved by the party (Doremon Ikari, the Halfling Ninja---err "security consultant" who was actually on his own agenda that would involve betraying them all in their darkest most WE ARE HOSED hour.) showed up from time to time since he was doing this and that. (Which in this case involved his other boss Galthik who he was also betraying who was in town.) (A horrible DM story involves the incredibly awful campaign Doremon came from. Another tale for another day.)

Our Elf mage goes to town with spells, the NPCs go bows and flintlock musket type guns, the Dwarf rips out the Mighty Composite Longbow. Our new thief decides to run the Hell away. What does the noble paladin do?

He bends over, drops trou, and MOONS DAGON.

Sadly he was saved yet again by a saving throw he should not have made, this time by our Elf mage. (Actually they would have both died, but I had to fudge the roll for the mage who did not deserve death for saving the dumbass. Plus he was the nice guy I mentioned above.)

The grand finale to 6 months of outstanding adventuring before a holiday break and a switch to a new game ruined by an Elf Paladin mooning a demigod.

(While the campaign will probably never be continued we have since retconned it where the Paladin became road paste under Dagon's giant fishy foot.)

It angered the host so much he wanted one final game so he could kill the everloving daylights out of dumbhead's character and we could all laugh at him before kicking him out the door. I intervened as he would be driving 40 minutes down the highway back home with his kid, and I feared for the child and other drivers' safety with a likely to be humiliated retard driving on the road.

(Oh yeah, this is another repost from another forum. Good content needs saving after all! Edits have been made in the interests of language, me never being happy with anything I do ever, and just updating since this post was made like 2 years ago.)