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Discussion: [DD3] Le seigneur des anneaux

  1. #1
    Date d'inscription
    November 2002
    Entre nulle part et partout.
    2 310
    Bon, voilà, j'ai trouvé une superbe parodie de certains passages du Seigneur des Anneaux, adapté à la sauce DD3. Le gros hic, c'est que c'est en anglais, et c'est assez long (encore que vu comment c'est drôle, la longueur devrait vous plaire). N'hésitez pas à commenter.
    Agifem, Auteur des Chroniques de l'Age Sombre, mordeur des titreurs négligeants, molosse modérateur du forum NeverWinter Nights 1, et Tyran Suprème du forum NeverWinter Nights 2.

    Un dernier merci à Egrevyn, mon ami, pour tout ce que tu as fait pour nous tous.

  2. #2
    Date d'inscription
    November 2002
    Entre nulle part et partout.
    2 310
    Les deux tours :

    GM: Failed your climb check, huh? You slip and plummet.
    PC1: Cool!
    PC2: Cool? Dude, you're falling to your death! Now we have to finish this stupid quest without your mage.
    PC1 (ignoring PC2): Can I see my sword?
    DM: Err... sure!
    PC1: Okay, I want to fall down and grab my sword from mid-air.
    PC2: What the hell? You dropped that like two rounds ago when you failed your balance check, then you wasted another round calling me a "fool" in character.
    PC1: So?
    PC2: You know how far something falls in three rounds?
    DM (ignoring PC2): Okay, you've got it! Glamdring slides into your hand. You see the balrog falling below you.
    PC2: But balrogs have wings! It says so right in the MM!
    PC1 (ignoring PC2): Cool! I want to go attack the balrog!
    PC2: You WHAT? Are you stoopid?
    DM: You... umm, okay. Roll to hit.
    PC2: What? No AoO?
    PC1: A critical! I hang on to him and keep hitting him on the way down. Whack! (to PC2) This is going to be MY kill, baby. All those lovely, glorious XPs for a balrog, mine alone.
    DM: (rolls a critical for the balrog that would kill PC1, panics, ignores dice) It missed you! Roll to hit again.
    PC1: YEAH! You're going down, servant of Melkor!
    PC2: This is stupid. I'm going to go get some Mountain Dew.

    PC2: Is this debacle over yet?
    PC1: Almost, man. It's really wounded, but I'm down to my last few hit points. We beat each other up swimming for a while, then climbed a bunch of stairs, and now we're on the top of the mountain.
    PC2: Oh, brother.
    DM: It hit you again for... (roll dice, cheat on result) 5 points of damage.
    PC2: 5 points! It's supposed to be a balrog!
    PC1: Shut up. I'm at negative 1. Can I take one last swing?
    DM: Umm, sure.
    PC1: Hit! And 8 points of damage! Hoody hoo!
    DM: Wow - you killed it! It falls off the cliff - 7d6 points of falling damage -
    PC2, sotto voce: winnnnggggsss.... it has wings!
    DM: - and collapses on the mountain below you.
    PC1: Yeah! In your face, balrog! I collapse back into the snow.
    DM: Roll some stabilization checks.
    (roll, roll)
    DM: You failed them ALL?
    PC2: Hah!
    PC1 (miserable): Yeah.
    DM: Hey, I know! You get all the balrog's experience points, right? So that puts you up a level, giving you more hitpoints, and you don't die!
    PC1: YES! Hahaha.. I'm unstoppable. Mage with a sword, baby! Balrog-bane!
    PC2: You guys suck. I'm going home.
    PC1: I'm putting all my new skill points in animal empathy, ride, and disguise (evil wizard).

    A little later in the session...
    GM: You look through the pile of dead bodies. It smells terrible, but (rolls) you do find one of the hobbits’ belts.
    PC1: S**t. I hate halflings. They’re way too much trouble. What are we gonna do now?
    PC2: Wait, wait, wait. There’s gotta be some sign of them around here.
    GM: You just had a troupe of orcs slaughtered by a full squad of cavalry here. There’s no way you’re gonna find any tracks.
    PC2: Now, wait a minute. You mean I took all of the those ranks in Wilderness Lore, and I can’t even track a stupid halfling in the middle of a field?
    PC1: I hate halflings.
    PC2: Shaddup. (to GM: )You gotta at least give me a try.
    GM: (rolling eyes) : Alright. Roll a d20.
    PC2: (rolls) 20! Plus 5 for my Wisdom, plus 5 more for my Looks Good in Leather template, plus 18 ranks, and I had a great dream about Arwen last night, which should give me a +2 circumstance bonus like it did last game when I almost missed that save… 50!
    PC1 (sotto voce): Munchkin.
    GM: (sighs) : Alright. You see a hobbit-shaped depression in the hay. Tracks seem to lead off into the forest.
    PC1: Greaaaaat. The cowards probably probably ran and climbed a tree or somethin’. I hate …
    GM and PC2: Shaddup!
    PC2: We follow the tracks into forest. What do we see?
    GM: You go about a quarter-mile into the forest when (rolls) you hear some rustling behind you. Roll a Reflex save or be blinded by the power of the Ainar.
    PC2: (rolls) I rolled a 1. What happens?
    GM: You’re momentarily blinded by a pure, scintillating white light. As you recover, you can make out the form of Gandalf.
    PC1: Sweet! Gandalf never gets killed. I glad he’s back!
    GM: Gandalf tells you that he killed off the Balrog, was killed himself, but the gods of Middle Earth have brought him back to life to help you guys out.
    PC1: Cool! Did he gets any uber lootz from the gods?
    PC2: (sotto voce) I hate DMs who use their old PCs as NPCs.

    DM: You stand behind the 3' rampart wall, gripping your weapons in sweating hands. Out on the field of battle, the horde advances.
    PC1: I look around. How many of them are there? (rubs hands, thinking of all the exp.)
    DM: There's a wall in front of you. You can't see a thing.
    PC1: What the hell! Like, you said it was a 3' wall. I'm a 4 and a half foot dwarf. Since when can't I see over a frikkin' 3' wall?
    PC2: (Snickers) Shortarse.
    PC1: You shut up, nancy boy. (turns back to DM) And why can't I see over the wall!
    DM: 'Cuz it's funny, Dude.
    PC2 & DM: (collapse in laughter)
    PC1: Screw you. I'm outta here.

    DM: Well, yeah, but you're maybe fifteen feet away from the bridge.
    PC1: Toss me.
    PC2: Ha! Okay... uh... I glare at Gimli.
    PC1: No, really... toss me. It's the only way we can get over there. We're out of SPIDER CLIMB, and we need to get over there before they cleave through all the 3rd level NPCs.
    PC2: Toss you, eh? Okay. What would I roll for that?
    DM: Uh... uh.... Roll a strength check.
    PC1: I'd make it a ranged attack with some minuses, myself...
    DM: (rolls eyes) okay, fine. Make a ranged attack at minus six... you're not proficient in firing dwarf-shaped weapons.
    PC2: Good enough for me. *roll*... seventeen!!
    PC1: Yes!!
    DM: Uh, okay, you fly over and smash some Uruk-hai out of the way. Since you held your action, you can attack as soon as you land.
    PC2: I jump over.
    DM: Okay, roll dem dice.
    PC1: Take your time, laddie! I'm up to eleven!
    PC2: Well, cleave will do that for you. *rolls* ....uh. Nine?!
    DM: (references jump skill, does some calculations) Um. Looks like you clear seven feet.
    PC2: What?? Can I make a reflex save to grab the bridge?
    PC1: Yeah!
    DM: No, you're still eight feet away from the bridge.
    PC1: You said it was MAYBE fifteen feet to the bridge from where we were.
    DM: Yeah, fifteen feet.
    PC1: So it's fifteen feet for sure now, no MAYBE? How about ten? He could reach three feet away.
    DM: No, it's fifteen feet.
    PC1: Fine, I just think you could stand to be more consistent, is all.
    DM: Oooh... 6d6 falling damage, Aragorn... 22 points of damage.
    PC2: I'm dead. That is SO unfair. I had so much stuff in my character background I didn't get to do yet! The whole king of Gondor thing... the reforging of Narsil... I was gonna do that elf chick...
    DM: Well, you're dead. The game goes on. Roll up some stats. Going to be that blackguard you've been itching for, I assume?
    PC2: Yeah. Man. That sucks.
    PC1: You were robbed, dude.
    PC2: I hate this module.

    DM: Ok, let’s recap – last week you guys just finished fighting off an ambush of worgs while protecting the peasant march to Helm’s Deep. Since Dave is late again, I’m ruling he fell of a cliff or something, that will show him.
    PC1: I look over the cliff; did he drop any swag as he went over?
    PC2: I check out the bodies.
    DM: There is no sign of him over the cliff, but Legolas finds the Elven Jewel on one of the dying monsters.
    PC2: Sweet! That has got to be worth some serious gps. Maybe I can use it to upgrade my bow again!
    PC1: (sarcastic) That’s just what we need. You go elf.
    PC2: (oblivious) Thanks!

    DM: OK after two more days of marching, you see the fortress ahead. It’s stone wall impenetrable for an age. The fortress seems to be built from …
    PC1: Enough talk, I go look for the Brewmaster!
    PC2: Oh, I wonder if there is some where I can unload this necklace!
    DM: The king seems …
    PC1: Brewmaster!!
    DM: (sigh) Ok, Gimli finds the brewmaster and are nice and toasty after about half an hour. Legolas, the only people here are peasants and such, no one has enough money to buy the jewel.
    PC2: How about the Aowen chick? She seemed very interested in it before.
    DM: When you show it to Aowen she starts to weep uncontrollably.
    PC2: You are just saying that so I can’t buy a better bow.
    DM: No I’m not! Besides there is no-one here to make it, and even it there were he’d be preparing for the upcoming siege.
    PC2: Come on, you didn’t even roll for it. (whispering to PC1) What siege.
    PC1: (shugs) Dave keeps track of all the plat stuff.
    DM: OK, roll a percentile on a “00” there is someone here who could make the bow, but that sill does not …
    PC2: w00t, a “00”
    PC1: That looked like a “12” to me.
    (kicking sound?)
    PC1: Owch, I mean that was lucky. (sarcastic) A “00” just when you needed it.
    PC2: (oblivious) Thanks! It sure was lucky!
    DM: Ok, there is a old retired weapon forger in here, but he is too busy to make your bow.
    PC2: I use diplomacy on him: Rolls. 19 with modifiers that’s 29! He’s my best bud.
    DM: Ok he starts working on your bow. The people are starting to get restless and doing various tasks relating to the preparations for the siege. What’s Gimli been doing?
    PC1: Drinking.
    DM: All day?
    PC1: Yes.
    (Door opens, PC3 walks in)
    PC3: Sorry I’m late, but there was trouble at the orphanage again.
    DM: No prob, we just started. Aragorn rides into the gate, bloody but alive.
    PC2: Whatever, DM’s pet.
    PC3: So what’s happening?
    PC1: We finally got to this Helm’s Deep place and nothing is happening.
    PC3: How many days have passed?
    PC2: Like 2, and people are acting all strange like.
    PC3: That’s because a S**T load of Orcs and such are coming tonight! (to DM) Do we know how many?
    DM: Lets see d100 x 100, and I rolled a “00” too. Aragorn saw an army of ten thousand.
    PC1: Alright Bring them on.
    PC2: Darn, I don’t have enough arrows for that.
    DM and PC3 (sigh)

    DM: So the orc lines part and this one orc carrying a torch comes running up toward the culvert in the wall, taking a double move. Aragorn, your go.
    PC1: How far away from the culvert is he?
    DM: (moves mini) Forty feet. He'll be there next round.
    PC1: OK, I still have my sword, so I shout "Shoot him" as a free action, then move down the wall thirty feet.
    DM: Legolas.
    PC2: I rapid shot the orc. (rolls) A 16, and a 20!
    DM: Two arrows strike him, and he twists in pain, but keeps running. Gimli?
    PC3: OK, I swing my axe at another orc ... a 2, drat!
    DM: The orc with the torch reaches the culvert. There is a huge explosion, and stones from the wall go everywhere. Make reflex saves.
    PC1: a 6!
    PC2: A 22!
    PC3: an 8!
    DM: Aragorn and Gimli are blown to the ground behind the wall, taking 2d6 points of falling damage. Legolas, you are still on your feet on top of the wall.
    PC2: Are the stairs still up?
    DM: Yes, the stairs are still standing. A horde of orcs is now pressing through the gap in the wall.
    PC1: I jump to my feet, pick up my sword, and charge the orcs.
    DM: That's two move-equivalents, so the charge will take place next round. Legolas?
    PC2: I run down the stairs to engage the orcs.
    DM: The stairs are steep. It will take you two rounds to run down them.
    PC2: Wait, is there any equipment lying around?
    DM: (scratches head) I guess there are some shields and spears lying around from the dead men-at-arms ...
    PC2: Dude! I jump on a shield and SURF down the wall, firing my bow as a go!
    PC3: Dude.
    DM: No way.
    PC2: But I took Mounted Combat, and haven't gotten to use it yet! Come on, at least let me make a balance check!
    DM: (rolls eyes) OK, make a balance check (setting the DC at 30).
    PC2: NATURAL 20! That's like, what, a 42 with modifiers!
    DM: (shakes head), Ok, you successfully jump on the shield, and are surfing it down the stairs ...
    PC2: I rapid shot the closest orc while I'm surfing!
    PC3: (mumbles) Bloody twink elven archers!

    A slightly alternative version.

    PC1 (ignoring PC2): Can I see my sword?
    DM: Err... sure!
    PC1: Okay, I cast a Stilled Silent mage hand to bring it to me, and grab it.
    PC: A whated whated what? No frikkin' wonder you didn't have any damned knock spells prepared!
    DM (ignoring PC2): Okay, you've got it! Glamdring slides into your hand. You see the balrog . . .
    DM (cont.): ... below you, twisting in mid-air, wings slowing his fall.
    PC1: HAH! I knew he'd be coming back. Now I got 'im right where I want him.
    PC2: Dude, you're crazy, you can't fight a balrog all by yourself!
    PC1: I got it covered. My dice are hot tonight, unlike Mr. Critically Fail Every Damned Stealth Roll over there.
    PC3 (playing a certain hobbit): Hey!
    PC1: Anyways, the balrog is toast. And the XP will be all mine! (rolls dice) Bwah-ha-ha-ha! Natural 20 to start the grapple!
    PC3: Frik-dang-blasted high level wizards. "No, you start at 1st level." What a crock . . .

    DM: An army of ten thousand orcs blankets the slopes of Helm's Deep, their hundreds of torches shedding a fell l--
    PC2: Yadda yadda yadda...enough flavor text. Let's get to the hacking!
    PC3: What? There's orcs? I can't see!
    >several rounds of arrow storms later...<
    DM: A big, mostly naked orc with a sparkly torch is running towards the wall.
    PC1: Uh-oh! An NPC with a description! Shoot him!
    PC3: Weren't there like, 2,000 orcs with torches? What's so special about this one?
    PC2: I blast him! Twang twang twang!!! (rolls) Hah! A threat! (rolls again) Crit! Take that, running man! 51 points!
    PC3: I mean, what's so special about this one? Is he gonna start the Orcolympics?
    DM: (panicking) Umm, he staggers slightly, but keeps running.
    PC1: Doesn't he have to make a save against death from massive damage?
    PC2: Don't worry, what with Rapid Shot and my Twangmaster Orcslaying Longbow of Speed +12, I have, like, 3 more shots. (rolls, and rolls some more) Hot dang! Two more crits!! You're going down, orc-boy! 54 and 61, that's 115 points!
    PC3: I mean, what's so special about this one torch? How sparkly is it? And come to think of it, didn't you say it was raining? How are all these torches still burning?
    PC1: Shut up, dwarf! It's vital that we stop this one, because this is the one the DM described! Don't forget, that two more saves against massive damage.
    DM: (flustered and angry) Well, he makes all three saves, and despite having three arrows buried to the feathers in neck, he's setting a new record for the 100 yard dash!
    PC3: I'm just saying that if all the orcs with torches showed up, we couldn't stop them all, even if we were all munchkin bow-fairies...
    PC2: Hah, your just jealous because I have like, 20 times the EPs than you, stumpy! What do think about twinkie archers now, melee-boy!
    PC3: Hey, that's only because you made that dire wolf fall on top of me last time! I was robbed!
    DM: With an earth-shattering roar, the wall EXPLODES, sending huge chunks of rock out into the orcish army!
    PC3: All right! Great Cleave, don't fail me now!

    DM: Since you 2 can only play on Tuesday I split you up from the rest of the party.
    PC1 (whispering to DM) Man why did you let him play a stupid gardner. I need a fighter or something to help me.
    PC2: Hey I heard that, I will take fighter soon, it doen't fit my character concept.
    PC1: But did you have to take skill focus cooking, jeez.
    DM: Okay back to the game... I have an NPC thats going to follow you around and lead you to Mordor. His name is Gollum. I got this cool voice and all.
    PC1: Why can't we just get a few of those giant eagles and fly to your stupid Volcano. You let Gandalf have a freakin eagle when he was captured.
    DM: I said no!!
    PC2: Yeah those elves in Riverdale or something like that where pretty eager to help us. I bet we can get some pretty twinked elves to come with us to.
    PC1: Now your talking, lets go back to Rivendell (idiot) and see if that Agent Elrond will do that.
    DM: Ummmmm.. you can't. Roll Initiative, Gollum is attacking you.

    [E critical, 97] critical hit eye, your arrow sails into the opponents eye. It pierces through the skull and sticks out the other side. Opponenet has a hard time seeing his life flash before his eyes as he is now blind, -25 hits. Opponent dies at the beginning of the next round.

    PC1: This was the worse session I have ever played in my entire life.
    PC2: Yeah, all we did was get away from those orcs, you did not even let us kill any of them, we lost all that XP, then all we did was talk with a frickin tree all night.

    PC1 : I got it ! I tell Beardything that we want to go south.
    GM : Treebeard asks why you’d go closer to Saruman ?
    PC 2 : Saruwho ? Oh, that bastard wizard…
    PC 1 : I don’t care, I bluff him into it. Yay ! A 19 ! That’s 22 total ! At last some good rolls !
    GM : OK. The ent takes you south. Suddenly, Orthanc comes into view. The whole area around it is blasted and devoid of trees. Treebeard looks pissed off.
    PC 2 : Hortank ? What was that again ?
    GM : (looks annoyed…)
    PC 1 : See, Treebird, the wizard guy is evil, he’s chopped down all these trees !
    PC 2 : Well, don't we chop down trees for our winter chimney-fires in the shire ?
    PC 1 : Shut up, dude !
    GM : OK, now Treebeard really is fu**ing angry ! He calls in his deep voice. A lot of ents emerge from the trees.
    PC 2 : Had they been spying on us or what ?
    PC 1 : OK, let’s go and beat up some orcs ! Hey xps, here we come !
    GM : (speaks in fake deep voice) No, no, my little friends, says Treebeard. You would die down there. Let the ents go to war !
    PC 1 : No way, let us down !
    PC 2 : Yeah ! I ready my +2 magic dagger I got from the Numenor tombs… Oooops… Forget that, the GM scrapped that part of the module…
    GM : You read the module ?
    PC 2 : No, no, just the flavour text at the back… Promise !
    GM (grumbling) : OK, The ents charge into the circular stone area around the tower. Treebeard doesn’t let you down, and that’s all for the best, coz’ a few minutes later, water comes rushing in from a dam the ents have just broken higher in the valley.
    PC 1 (bored) : How convenient…
    GM : The orcs are drowned and an ent that they had set on fire is saved by the oncoming water. At the end of the day, the ents are victorious and there are orc bodies floating all around you.
    PC 1 : OK, how much xp for the orcs ?
    GM : Well, none, you didn’t do anything…
    PC 2 : Well you didn’t let us do anything ! And anyway, we participated in the combat, we are entitled to some xps…
    GM : No way…
    PC 1 : OK, scrap that. The water must have made all kinds of loot come up to the surface, right ? Let’s go looting…
    GM (looking at his module worryingly…) : Eeerrrrr… No, there’s nothing apparent…
    PC 1 : Oh come on, there was loads of stuff in the book…
    GM (suspicious) : You read the book ?
    PC 1 : No, no, just the flavour text at the back… Promise !

    PC2: We follow the tracks into forest. What do we see?
    GM: You go about a quarter-mile into the forest when (rolls) you hear some rustling behind you. What do you do?
    PC2: I ready an action to draw my sword!
    PC1: Dude, why don't you just draw it now?
    PC2: I look cooler if I draw and attack all at once. I'll get a +2 circumstance bonus to hit - some cinematic rule from Dragon Magazine.
    PC1: Sweet! I do that too, with my arrow!
    DM: Okay, the dwarf's player isn't here, but he does it also.
    PC2: What do we see?
    DM: A wizard in white! Roll a Reflex save or be blinded by the power of the Ainar.
    PC1: Anus?
    DM: Shut up and roll.
    PC2: Good one, dude. (rolls) I rolled a 1. What happens?
    GM: You’re momentarily blinded by a pure, scintillating white light.
    PC2: Screw that crap. My readied action goes off.
    PC1: Yeah, mine, too!
    DM: Oh, fine. You draw your sword, and the evil wizard heats it up too hot to hold.
    PC1: What the hell?
    DM: I rolled the save for you.
    PC1: 'Cha, sure you did. Bastard.
    PC2: Did my arrow hit him?
    DM: No, he batted it out of the air with his staff. The dwarf's axe, too.
    PC1: Holy crap! He must be a monk!
    DM: Roll for initiative.
    PC1: 11.
    PC2: 15.
    DM: Okay, want to attack?
    PC2 (suspicious) No, I want to see who this guy is first. I'll wait.
    DM: I told you, behind all that glare he looks like Saruman! Sounds like him, too!
    PC2: We've never met Saruman before.
    DM: Oh, yeah. Whatever. Like an evil white wizard, okay? So, do you attack?
    PC2: No, I told you. I hold my action.
    DM: Fine. Elf, you want to attack him, right? Roll to hit!
    PC2: Don't do it, guy. He's trying to screw us. I can sense it.
    PC1: What, like the Force?
    PC2: Whatever. But he has that snotty little smile. See?
    DM: (puts on blank face)
    PC1: You're right, dude! Saruman or not, I'll wait.
    DM: You sure?
    PC1 and PC2: YES!
    DM: Okay, FINE. It's not Saruman, it's Gandalf.
    PC1: Sweet! Gandalf never gets killed. I glad he’s back!

    *DM furiously scribbling notes*
    DM: Okay, Legolas, you hit Orc #228 for 17 points, he's down. You missed your next shot. Hit Orc #1,954 for a crit, 53 points. He's like, red mist, man. You hit Orc #5,867 for 4 points. He's still up. Ron, I mean Aragorn...
    PC1: I'm called Strider!
    DM: You said you wanted to be called by Aragorn, now.
    PC1: I'm only called Aragorn when we're doing RP stuff. In combat I take on the persona of Strider to inspire terror in my enemies. Didn't you read my background?
    DM: Okay, fine, Strider then. What do you do?
    PC1: I shoot it!
    DM: You had your sword out.
    PC1: I did not! I totally had my bow out. I told you that I always have my bow ready for the start of combat.
    DM: You said you were using your sword to help you keep all the archers in line. You wanted to be in charge of the archers.
    PC1: Oh. Uh. I tell the archers to shoot, I guess.
    DM: You wanna roll, or should I?
    PC1: Uh. Let me roll.
    DM: Okay, that's 500 elven archers with +7 to hit. Then 100 regulars with +4 to hit. Then 300 commoners with +0 to hit. The commoners have to arch over the wall, so they get -4, also. Oh, and the elves can rapid shoot for +5/+5 instead if you want.
    PC1: Oh. Okay. Can I borrow some twenties?

    Sometimes player rolls screw up the best DM plans.
    DM: Okay, you're in the Golden Hall. Gandalf rides off to go get Eomer.
    PC3: Looks like we'll be waiting here for awhile. I go and get drunk.
    PC2: I go with the dwarf.
    PC1: Me too.
    DM: But.. uh... make an Intelligence check.
    PC1: 6.
    DM: Whatever. Look, you think it'd be a good idea to convince the King to lead his men in heroic battle.
    PC 2&3: Railroader.
    PC1: Okay, fine. I go and talk to Theoden to convince him to lead his men in heroic battle.
    DM: Roll Diplomacy.
    PC1: ...natural 1.
    DM: Crap. He tells you to stuff it and decides to flee to Helm's Deep instead.
    PC3: Fine. We stay here and drink his beer.
    DM: He's taking the beer with him!
    PC 2&3: Railroader!

    (at the other game session)
    DM: You're with Treebeard. He's called an Entmoot to decide if they're to go to war.
    PC4: Okay.
    PC5: I stand around and look bored.
    DM: ... so, the Ents start talking. You know, about this important decision.
    PC4: Okay.
    PC5: I take a nap.
    DM: ... well, fine, be that way. They decide to *not* go help.
    PC4: Oh well. Guess we should go home.
    DM: Don't you think you should say something? Like, maybe to convince the Ents to march into dramatic battle?
    PC5: Fine, fine. I roll Diplomacy to convince him to attack the bad guys.
    PC4: Sauron.
    DM: Saruman!
    PC5: Whatever. I roll... a 1.
    DM: Crap.

    DM: You're all at Helm's Deep. 10,000 orcs are on the way. The King is arrogant and the people are demoralized. Outnumbered, trapped, and lacking strong leadership, the people are without hope.
    PC2: Well, we're screwed. I guess I'll guard the beer.
    PC3: I go with the elf.
    PC1: Me too.
    DM: But... but... Bob.. don't you remember that email I sent you? About your background, and how you're a king, and all that?
    PC1: Uh, dude, that was like 10 pages long. I didn't read it.
    PC 3: Yeah, all your emails are too long. Who has time to read all that plot stuff?
    DM: Look, Bob. Your character is a noble king. Don't you think that maybe you should say something to inspire the people to victory?
    PC1: Fine, fine. Who's around me?
    DM: Currently, you're just sitting on the steps in the rain with a scruffy boy who's been pressed into service. But in the Great Hall, the king and all his advisors--
    PC1: I pick up the boy's sword. Is it a good weapon?
    DM: What? Er, no. It's all notched and rusty.
    PC1: I swing it around a bit and tell the kid it's a good sword.
    DM: ... Make a bluff check.
    PC1: Natural 20.
    DM: Um. The kid believes you. You know that he'll now fearlessly charge into battle with his blunt, useless weapon.
    PC1: I win!
    DM (desperate): The daughter of the king comes up to you. She is dressed like a waif, but you can tell that's she's actually a high level fighter. You can also tell she's sweet on you, and the people look to her for courage. If you could convince her to take up the arms she's long ached to wield and lead her people, there's a good chance that the people could be inspired to make a stand and--
    PC1: I'm sorry, were you talking? Dude, check it out! I've got all my dice spinning at once!
    DM: Fine! A ton of elves led by Haldir show up to help out. Haldir says that they're sent from Lord Elrond in honor of the ancient alliance of Elves and Men.
    PC2: Wait--I don't get it. Haldir is from Lothlorien, and Galadriel rules Lothlorien. Elrond rules Rivendell. Why would Haldir say that he was sent by *Elrond*?
    PC1&3, DM: You actually read the campaign background?!
    PC2: Well, I was bored at work...

    Agifem, Auteur des Chroniques de l'Age Sombre, mordeur des titreurs négligeants, molosse modérateur du forum NeverWinter Nights 1, et Tyran Suprème du forum NeverWinter Nights 2.

    Un dernier merci à Egrevyn, mon ami, pour tout ce que tu as fait pour nous tous.

  3. #3
    Date d'inscription
    November 2002
    Entre nulle part et partout.
    2 310
    La suite des Deux Tours

    DM: The orcs continue their attack. The sea of orcs crashes against the walls of Helm's Deep. The night sky is lit by flashes of lightning and the smoldering sputter of thousands of orc torches.
    PC1: Yawn. What happens next?
    DM: Everyone make spot checks.
    PC1: 2!
    PC2: 3!
    PC3: 1!
    DM: You're kidding. Hank, Legolas is an Elf ranger--how'd you get a 3?
    PC2: I put all my skill ranks in Balance...
    PC3: Dude, you suck.
    DM: Uh.... well, you all see this anyway.. because.. his torch is... uh.. white phosphorous! Yeah! So, you all see this one orc come running toward the wall. You get the idea that it'd be a really good idea to stop him.
    PC1: I tell Legolas to shoot him.
    DM: You have a bow too, you know.
    PC1: Yeah, but I'll just let "Legolas" here do his archer thing.
    PC2: Thanks man. Okay, I shoot the orc with Rapid Shot. First shot... natural 20! And.. another one confirms the crit! Second shot.. NATURAL 20! And.. holy cow, another one confirms the second crit!
    DM (finally the rolls go the way they should): You bravely shoot down the orc. And good thing too. You later learn that that guy was about to totally blow the wall wide open.
    PC2: 6.
    DM: What?
    PC2: 6 damage. I rolled all 1's on the damage dice...
    PC3: Uruk Hai orcs are 2HD. They have a *minimum* of 8 hit points...
    PC1: We are so screwed.
    PC2: Told you so.
    (thanks to Olgar for below)
    DM: Crap. The orc with the torch reaches the culvert. There is a huge explosion, and stones from the wall go everywhere. Make reflex saves.
    PC1: a 6!
    PC2: A 22!
    PC3: an 8!
    DM: Aragorn and Gimli are blown to the ground behind the wall, taking 2d6 points of falling damage. Legolas, you are still on your feet on top of the wall.
    PC2: Are the stairs still up?
    DM: Yes, the stairs are still standing. A horde of orcs is now pressing through the gap in the wall.
    PC1: I jump to my feet, pick up my sword, and charge the orcs.
    DM: That's two move-equivalents, so the charge will take place next round. Legolas?
    PC2: I run down the stairs to engage the orcs.
    DM: The stairs are steep. It will take you two rounds to run down them.
    PC2: Wait, is there any equipment lying around?
    DM: (scratches head) I guess there are some shields and spears lying around from the dead men-at-arms ...
    PC2: Dude! I jump on a shield and SURF down the wall, firing my bow as a go!
    PC3: Dude.
    DM: No way.
    PC2: But I took Mounted Combat, and haven't gotten to use it yet! Come on, at least let me make a balance check!
    DM: (rolls eyes) OK, make a balance check (setting the DC at 30).
    PC2: NATURAL 20! That's like, what, a 42 with modifiers!
    DM: (shakes head), Ok, you successfully jump on the shield, and are surfing it down the stairs ...
    PC2: I rapid shot the closest orc while I'm surfing!
    PC3: (mumbles) Bloody twink elven archers!

    DM: You've retreated into the inner keep of Helm's Deep. The orcs are outside. They're battering on the door. The room you're in is filled with heavy oak tables. Beyond this room are passages that lead deeper into the twisty passages of the mountain. The king is here, along with his men. Already, some of the men are piling furniture against the door.
    PC1: I talk to the king.
    DM: What about the door?
    PC1: Screw the door. I say 'King, let's you and me ride out of here and kick some ass'
    DM: What? There's an entire orc army out there!
    PC1: Yeah, but it's getting late and the season finale of "Survivor" is coming on soon.
    DM: But, but... Dan, make a Knowledge: Cavern check for Gimli.
    PC3: 24.
    DM: You figure you could hold out for weeks, maybe months in the caves. With guerilla tactics, you'd have a decent chance of winning out. And who knows? There may be unforeseen allies in the depths, or a secret way out to--
    PC1: Yeah, whatever. I've been sick of this campaign ever since the one single magic item we've encountered, that Ring of Invisibility, got carried away. I roll a.. natural 20 on my Diplomacy check. Let's do this.
    DM: But-
    PC1: And we get on horses too.
    DM: What horses?
    PC1: There's gotta be horses somewhere, right? I thought you said these guys were total horse freaks.
    DM: Fine, sure, there are a bunch of horses... in the Great Hall. Whatever.
    PC1: Sweet. We mount up and ride out. Yee haw!
    DM: Fine. You plow through a bunch of orcs, down the ramp, right into the midst of 10,000 bloodthirsty Uruk-Hai--
    PC1: Cool. Time to watch Survivor. I hope that hot chick wins.
    PC2: This Ranger was okay, but I think I'll make my next character a Cleric... they're better archers, after all.
    PC3: I'm playing a barbarian. Dwarf movement rates suck.
    DM: SUDDENLY GANDALF APPEARS! He charges down with Eomer's boys and scatters all the orcs. You win.
    PC1: What?! He scatters *ALL*of them? All 10,000? Just like that?
    DM: Yeah.
    PC2: Didn't the orcs have pikes? Aren't Uruk Hai fearless?
    DM: Yeah, but it doesn't matter.
    PC3: But, wouldn't it take them a while to reach us? Aren't we totally surrounded?
    DM: Doesn't matter. You're saved, got it? I've worked too long on this campaign to see you all screw it up. See you next week.

    Meanwhile, approaching Mordor ...
    DM: Frodo, make a Fort save.
    PC1: 17. Why'd you give me this damn artifact? I have to make Fort saves all the time? I want a magic item with fewer drawbacks ...
    DM: You fall into the marsh.
    PC2: Fine, I pull him out. Why don't you give me the ring? I've got a better Fort save.
    PC1: OK, I give Sam the ring.
    DM: That means you lose the +2 Con, and the additional HP.
    PC1: Fine, I keep the damn ring. Sam, you can't have it.
    DM: You have to call it "my precious".

    PC2: I do a Sense Motive on Gollum.
    DM: Roll a d20.
    PC2: 19.
    DM: You're sure Gollum is leading you into a trap.
    PC2: Frodo, Gollum is leading us into a trap.
    DM: Sam, make an innuendo check first.
    PC2: 1, crap.
    PC1: What's that mean?
    DM: It means you think Gollum is trustworthy.
    PC2: I stab Gollum when he's not looking.
    DM: That's an evil act ... I'll change your alignment if you do.
    PC2: Fine, I try to get Gollum to betray himself.
    DM: Roll a Bluff check.
    PC2: But I don't have any ranks in Bluff!
    PC1: Shouldn't have put all your skill points into Profession:Gardener.

    PC1: I put my ear to the ground, do I hear the orcs, and how many.
    DM: About 40 or so, and they are heading south.
    PC2: DM's pet, tracking by listeneing to the ground.
    PC3: wooo you guys finally stopped can we rest my movement sucks and I have short legs.
    PC2: Well Galadrial was handing out free stuff why didn't you ask for Boots of Springing and Striding? No give me a lock of your hair? What was up with that?
    PC3: Well I thought about adding some role playing and maybe the DM would make me the lost king of dwarfs or something like that. Man you sure made out like a bandit with Let go my Lego.
    PC2: Will you stop calling me that.
    PC1: Lets go, I sniffed the air, our hobbit friends are on the back of 2 orcs in the middle of the group being carried.
    PC3: Freaking twink.
    PC1: Lets go my friends.
    DM: Okay you run for a while, Don't worry about CON checks cause you are chasing after your friends.
    PC3: Ohh man, Con is my Second highest stat, I even took endurance. Legolas has a 7 Con, he should be past out by now.
    PC1: Hey Legolas can your Elf Eyes see them.
    PC2: Let me See, Can I see them
    DM: Sure can, they are turning west, if you push it you can probably catch them by dawn.
    PC3: Hey can I do cool stuff like that.
    DM: Umm no.

    PC1: Since i'm under the inflence of the ring, I roll back on top of Sam, draw my sword to his throat.
    PC2: Can I try to help Him out of it by talking to him?
    DM: Roll a D20
    PC2: A natural 20!!!!
    DM: ok, Frodo snaps out of it.
    PC1: Crap, I would have gotten some decent XP for killing Sam.

    PC4 (Gollum): I catch a fish in the stream. I roll 17 to initiate the grapple.
    DM: Okay. The rocks are slippery, make a balance check.
    PC4: I roll a 4, plus 30 bonus for balance that's a 34.
    DM: You fall face first into the water.
    PC4: What?!? I...whatever. Now I'm closer to the fish--I should get a bonus.
    DM: Yeah right. Fish makes opposed grapple check. It's 21. The fish gets away.
    PC4: What?!? It's a fish--it's got a strength of like 2.
    DM: Sorry. It got away.
    PC4: Grrr...Okay. I move after him and try again. I roll a 15.
    DM: Slippery rocks...roll for balance.
    PC4: 12...that's 42. I definitely don't fall.
    DM: You fall and slide 10 feet, but the fish has a movement of 10, so it's right in front of you.
    PC4: Well, I rolled 15 for my grapple.
    DM: Okay. Oh yeah. Fish gets gets away again.
    PC4: Why can't I just eat the hobbits? They're supposed to be fat anyway.
    DM: Sorry. This is third edition--hobbits are like humans who have been digitally shrunk.
    PC4: Alright. Then I eat their stew.
    DM: You don't like stew....Only raw meat.
    PC4: So. I intimidate Sam to give me some stew.
    DM: You can't. You're still scared of Sam from missing that first roll.
    PC4: Screw this. I steal the ring and leave them to die in the mountains.
    DM: Ok. Make a will save against your schizophrenic evil self.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 15. Roll again.
    PC4: 15.
    DM: 14. The evil alter ago leaves and only he can steal the ring.
    PC4: Fine. Whatever? Where's the forbidden pool? I'll catch a fish there?
    DM: But the penalty for swimming in the forbidden pool is death.
    PC4: Good. This character sucks anyway.
    DM: Okay. Faramir surrounds you with archers. Frodo--Make a diplomacy check with Faramir.
    PC4: But he's got Charisma 18, like a zillion ranks in diplomacy, and the Leadership feat.
    DM: So?!? [To PC1] Roll diplomacy.
    PC1: Ok. But first I act all emotional and try to get Faramir to show pity with my empassioned speech. I roll a five.
    DM: Faramir rolls a 1. He automatically fails. He is moved by your speech and tells the archers not to shoot Gollum.
    PC4: But there's no critical failure for skills...He still gets all his bonuses! There's no way he wouldn't kill me! I'm a pathetic aberration!
    DM: Sorry. House rule. Natural 1 is always failure. Besides, Frodo gets a circumstance bonus for good roleplaying.
    PC4: This character sucks. When can I die?
    DM: Not till the end of the third module.
    PC1: Do I get XP for my roleplaying with Faramir?
    DM: Sure. Faramir is level 17 and you're third level...Hmmm--that's not on the chart here. Oh well you get...20,000 XP.
    PC1: Cool! That I'm seventh level now. Can I advance now so the Nazgul think twice about just killing me when they find me?
    DM: Sure.
    PC4: This sucks.

    DM: A warg appears over the crest of the hill to your left, with an Uruk-Hai mounted atop it.
    PC 3: Initiative time!
    DM: Only Legolas can cat during this round, because Glimi and Aragorn are too far back and unaware. And it's a surprise round, so partial actions only. Initiative?
    PC1: What's a warg?
    DM: What's a warg?!?!
    PC1: Yeah, what's a warg?
    DM: Let me see that *grabs PC1's character sheet* Look, right here! You have a +2 favored enemy bonus against wargs, and now you're asking what's a warg?
    PC1: Well, you haven’t let me use any of my favored enemy bonuses in forever. I don't even get my full bonus for Orcs against the Urk Hi. Friggin ranger, always up to the DM if I get my bonus. I mean, when's the last time I got to fight a *peers over to his sheet*any Naz-gools.
    DM: Nazguls? The black riders?!?
    PC1: Oh, yeah. Those guys. You didn't even let me use my bonus to damage against them with that torch because they're invisible and had concealment.
    PC3: Well if someone hadn’t wasted all of our time for the Counsel of Rivendel session making out with Arwen maybe we would have gotten to the warg encounter before the Mines of Moria in the last module….
    PC1: Hey, she was hot!
    PC2: Whatever. Guy in combat over here? I act at 8.
    DM: Okay, the warg descends from the hill and *rolls* throws Halma from his horse with a swipe of it's claw, he falls to the ground with...
    PC2: Who?
    DM: Halma, the captain of the king's guard.
    PC3: *checking his notes* You never mentioned him before...
    DM: Well he's dead now ok? Legloas, your initiative.
    PC2:*rolls* Threat, hitting AC 36, and the confirmation roll hits AC 28. *DM nods* Dealing... 33 damage.
    DM: The warg falls dead with an arrow through the throat. The rider is throw to the ground.
    PC2: Alright! I loot the body.
    DM: It's a warg! A big wolf, it doesn’t have anything. And the rider isn't dead yet. You hear the sounds of a pack approaching from ahead of you...
    PC1: *looking up from a book* Warg isn't in the monster manual... and I can't find Nougat or Urk hi either...
    PC3: Check under Worg.
    DM: ... a company of warg riders fly forward, howling. Aragorn and Glimi roll for initiative now.
    PC2: What about me?
    DM: You’re still acting at 8.
    PC2: But, it’s a new encounter, the last one ended, and I looted the warg.
    DM: You never looted it.
    PC2: Yes I did, you said it didn’t have anything. And I never get to use my sneak attack damage, those two levels of rogue are the most worthless levels you could have.
    PC1: Try being a ranger. Worg? AC 14, so if I power attack for two points, and use a four point expertise, I’ll still hit on… wait, do I get my full favored enemy bonus against Worgs? The sheet says Warg… or is this like Urk Hi and Orcs, where I only get half?
    DM: *Grabbing the Monster Manual* Give me that.
    PC2: Ok, my initiative for this encounter is 24! That’s more like it.
    DM: *sighs* Glimi? Aragorn?
    PC1: 16.
    PC3: -1. *grumbling*

    DM: Roll a tracking check.
    PC1: Crap! A natural 1. I have good bonuses, though...?
    PC3: Ha! You suck, dude.
    DM: He's right, you do suck. Now everyone roll a spot check.
    PC1: 9
    PC3: 2
    PC2: 7
    PC3: 7? What do you mean, 7? You're a freakin' twink elf!
    PC2: Sorry, dude. Fighters get crappy skill points, and elf or not, it's still a cross-class skill.
    DM: Wow. You guys couldn't notice an oliphaunt. Okay, roll listen checks.
    PC2: Dude, if you want us to notice something, just tell us, okay?
    DM: Fine. You don't have to roll listen checks after all. You hear a horse snort!
    PC1: From where?
    DM: From right over that hill.
    PC1: Damn, dude! I hide. I rolled a 24.
    PC3: Nice!
    DM: Okay. A company of 100 men ride over the hill. They have another 1900 men on horses somewhere nearby, too.
    PC1: You telling me that I can track 50 orcs who are 30 miles away by putting my ear to the ground, but I can't notice 2000 horses or 100 guys riding down on me?
    DM: Well, it's not like you failed to notice 10,000 troops assembling outside of your tower, or anything stupid like that.
    PC1: True. That's be really stupid.
    PC2: Let's kill em all and take their stuff!
    PC1: What? No!
    PC3: No, the twink is right. I have no ranks in ride, but it'll suck less than this running heavily laden with a lousy movement rate thing. I say we take 'em.
    PC1: I stand up and make a diplomacy check... 12.
    DM. They surround you guys.
    PC3: I deliberately fail my diplomacy, and act like a jerk. Betcha I can goad him into a fight! Oooh, I like his helmet.
    DM: Yeah? He insults you.
    PC2: Hey, he's some sort of royalty! I bet if you kill him, you get to be prince! I draw an arrow and ready an action to pierce his skull if he tries anything!
    PC1: Shut UP, you dinks! We need this guy. Diplomacy check... DC 22.
    PC2 and PC3: Awwwww.
    DM: He tells you the king is no longer in his right mind.
    PC3: Oh, okay then. We'll kill HIM and take HIS stuff!

    PC1: No, turn around!
    PC2: What are you, stupid?
    DM: The tree says Hoom, hoom, that'll take you by Isengard 'n stuff, too dangerous, hoom.
    PC2: You want an inhaler?
    DM: No, it's not my asthma! It's the way trees talk.
    PC2: Suuuuure.
    PC1: Take us south.
    DM: South?? Why would you want to go South? That leads to Isengard.
    PC1: The closer we are to danger, the further we are from harm and that's the last thing they'll expect.
    DM: Roll a bluff check.
    PC1: 29.
    DM: Crap. Okay. The tree says, hmmm, well I don't understand, but then again, you are very small. South it is. I've always liked going South, it's like going downhill.
    PC1: Yeah, whatever. Giddyap.
    PC2: Are you crazy? We'll get caught again.
    PC1: Not this time. I gots me a plan!

    DM: Okay Aragorn, you have been grabed by an orc, dragged 100 yards over the ground AND fell a 100 feet into the the rocky river below, yeah after recalculating the damage for the third time you are dead. Well that will a little damper on my game but I might be able to save it.
    Pc1: (sniff) Excuse me guys gotta go to the bathroom.
    PC2: Is he going to cry?
    PC3: Haha, ranger got the shaft again, freaking twink ranger. Hey you got that elf babes necklace. I bet its magical.
    PC2: I bet it is, all this elf stuff is magical except for the hair you took lamer.
    DM: All the riders are going to Helm's Deep, you going to.
    PC3: Man he did have some fat loot on him. Are you sure we don't have time to search for him?
    DM: I am sure. You going or not.
    PC2: I heard when he killed Gandalf, he came back with 2 more levels and better magic items. I bet he brings Aragron back to life.
    PC3: He better not, Stridex is just some human ranger king wanna be. He is dead. I look down the cliff do I see his carcass?
    DM: No, and I have a story reason for Gandalf, you guys going with the damn riders or not?!?!
    PC2: Don't get snippy, we'll go.
    ...A few minutes later...
    PC2: Where the hell is Aragorn at, he needs to make a new character. He could play one of these Rohan cats, they seem pretty cool.
    PC3: Horse boy would have done real well in Moria. :rolleyes:
    ..DM's Cell Phone rings..
    DM: Hold on guys, Hello?
    PC1 GF: Hey this is Liz. I heard you killed Dave's character. He called me, he is pretty upset. Is there anything you can do?
    DM: Ummm... what?
    PC1: Okay (sniff) I'm back. I guess I'll roll up a new character.
    DM: My game is starting, I'll have Dave call you when we are done err K?
    PC1 GF: Please he cried and all. Do something. Have him call me, bye.
    DM: Errr. Aragorn, you have a strange vision of Arwen and find yourself awake on the shore being waken up by a horse.
    PC1: Really I am not dead, wow.
    DM: Yeah, you have 2 hit points though, better get back to Helms Deep.
    PC1: Did you here that guys I didn't die.
    PC2,3: (Groan)

    [goblin npc]: [34-40] critical fumble: You pull your bow string back too far and manage to get it behind your ear. The force of the release takes your ear off, hard of hearing now eh? You have a -10 to all listen checks until ear is properly healed. Luckily the force of release is enough to fly true to the target, un-luckily it bounces off what ever piece of armor the target is wearing. You get -50 to your next attack.

    GM: You're thrown to the ground of the cave, and your bonds are released. You hear the rush of the waterfall behind you, and several Men walk around, dropping off gear.
    PC1: Where's that Smeagol punk?
    GM: You don't see him here.
    PC2: That's a good thing, otherwise I'd kick his butt.
    GM: After a few minutes, another man approaches you and sits down. (GM gets up and opens the door to the other room) Dave, you can come in now.
    Dave: (entering from other room) Already? Cool.
    PC1: Hey, Dave. Rolled up a new character, I see.
    Dave: Yeah.
    PC2: I hope it's something better than that Gondor warrior that got wasted by all those arrows a few sessions back.
    Dave: Honest, it's a much better character now.
    GM: Why don't you go ahead and introduce yourself?
    Dave: Yeah, okay. So, this tall man in a beard and cloak walks in, and he's got a noble look in his eyes and stuff, and he sits in front of you and says, "What are you two doing here?"
    PC1: Like, you and your men dragged us here, duuuh.
    Dave: Right, I mean, what brings you to this area, er...realm?
    PC2: (consults notes) Uh, we left Rivendell with a bunch of other PCs and NPCs, got into fights, split up, and ended up here.
    Dave: Were there any men in your party?
    PC1: Yeah, two. Aragorn the twink ranger, and some loser named Boromir.
    Dave: He wasn't a loser! It's not my fault I had bad dice karma that night!
    PC2: Whatever.
    Dave: So, like, what did you think of Boromir? Was he your friend?
    PC2: (sees where this is going) Man, I'm not going to sit here and tell you how cool your character was. He's dead, get over it. Who cares, anyhow?
    PC1: Wait, let me guess. Is this character Boromir's brother or something? Just like you to play another man, who's also a warrior. I bet he's from Gondor too. Damn, Dave, can't you be creative and branch out?
    DM: Um, okay....

    DM: You crouch down on a low hill overlooking the Gate to Mordor with easily a dozen guards looking out on the gate wall. There are 100's of warriors marching in line towards the gate. As you look on, you notice two HUGE Ogres Operating a...
    PC1: Hey! I thought Ogres were large!
    DM: What? Fine, whatever...Trolls then.
    PC2: Trolls would turn into stone in the daylight, dude!
    DM: (growls under breath...)...OK...hold on (flips rapidly through MM1)...Ok! You notice two Advanced huge ogres operating a mechanical device they are chained to, slowly opening the gate.
    PC2: That's better!
    PC1: OK! My plan is to sneak up behind the warriors and follow them through the open gate - no one will notice will all the 'confusion.'
    PC2: What!? What part of "dozen guards looking out" did you fail to hear! It's broad daylight for the love of...
    PC3: So, what am I again?! Some sort of halfling template? with longevety and an addiciton? Why do I get the crap PC?
    DM: Maybe you should try paying me the &#036;5 you owe me. But yes, you are the forefather of halfings, and you are addicted, like a heroin addiction, to the gold ring on Frodo's neck.
    PC2: Whoa! You never told us he was a drug addict!
    DM: Well he isn't really a drug addict - he failed his will save vs. a semi-sentient, highly cursed, ring.
    PC2: Which is the reason we have so few other magic items - that stupid ring is putting us off the character wealth charts - man, if I just had a +2...
    PC1: Yeah, whatever. How about my move silently check down that rocky slope?
    PC3: Don't risk it - that ring is precious to me!
    DM: Good roleplayng guys! Except you like to call it "My precious" - how many times do I have to tell you?
    PC3: ...And you wonder why I don't give you the &#036;5...
    PC1: I've made up my mind, I'm going for it! (makes to roll dice)
    PC2: I attempt to stop him, we'll be killed and have to start over at first level in that stupid Shire again!
    DM: Uh-oh - make a balance check - that slope is pretty treacherous (smiles deviously)
    PC1: modified 26
    PC2: Dammit! modified 12...Wait a minute - how did you get a 26! We're 3rd level!
    PC3: (looking through template notes furiously)...24, no,!!
    DM: Well - looks like one of you falls, I'm afraid...
    PC3: (snickers)
    PC2: I DO NOT like that old halfling forefather thing!
    DM: Yes, well, you like this even less. You slide 25' down on the loose detrius landing with a puff of dust and a large whomp near the base of the hill.
    PC1/PC3: Oh no!
    DM: A guard or two turns from the rear of the column and cocks his head slightly heading your way...
    PC2: Does he see me yet?
    DM: Not quite yet - but only becsaue your stuck waist deep in the loose soil - denied you DEX bonus, I expect.
    PC2: WHAT!?!
    PC1: I jump down to get him, using tumble to ease my fall.
    DM: 25 feet eh?
    PC1: Well 10 feet less, due to my Jump Check of 30
    PC2: 30! How are you getting such high...?
    PC3: I cower and hiss on the top of the hill...and I'm going to go grab a beer while you two finish getting killed.
    DM: Ok, fine - take 2d6 falling damage...thats...drat: 3 points.
    PC1: Can I pull him up out of the hole?
    DM: No.
    PC2: Doesn't he get a STR check?
    DM: Well he would, but the DC is higher that his modified roll could possibly be - he has an 8 STR.
    PC1: Hey! I would've known that, right?
    DM: Hey, I didn't force you to jump down - nor did I know that that's what you were going to try to do - I'm not ret-conning now!
    PC2: I have escape artist! Can I wriggle free?
    DM: You can try...Better hurry those guards are zeroing in one your struggling forms quickly!
    PC2: (making strangling noises)...Gah! 9 modified...
    PC1: Told you you should've gone Rogue, not fighter - they don't make halfling plate mail...
    DM: The Guards...
    PC1: Wait, I lay on top of him, and cover him with my cloak!
    DM: What?! It's broad daylight, on the bottom of a smooth slope, leading into an open plane. What are you smoking?
    PC1: Let's see, I'm small, with an elven cloak, and high DEX, and some ranks here...rolled a...20! I rolled a 20! Thats a modified 43!
    DM: Harumph! And even with the -20 circumstance penalty I am giving to you two clowns, the warriors do not locate your scrawny little butts - looks like it's a good day to be a twinked out halfling! The Guards turn back and...
    PC3 (returning with beer): Hey, can we drop this for now, and play in that game where we defend that fort-thingie - Helm's Cup or whatever!
    DM: That's this same game you idiot! Fine, let's cut for now over to the Rohan fortress...

    ::Strider:: "We must hurry, many Uruk Hai are coming!"
    :M:: "Wait, how'd you know they were Uruk Hai, I never called them anything but orcs!"
    ::Strider:: "I didn't read the adventure, I swear. And besides, you never gave my hobbit that wraith encounter and that cost us XP!"

    DM: Elf, shoot your arrow
    PC1: I shoot and kill a warg
    DM: I have judged that Aragorn has become trapped in warg harness and is thrown over a cliff
    PC2: What? Aragorn can't be dead? No, I'll die!
    PC1: Get out of here, Steve. You're dead, you don't exist anymore.

    DM: Okay your on the walls of Helm's Deep, outside is an army of 10,000 Orcs, Uruk-hai and Cave-trolls. Inside there's you, 300 odd Rohan soliders, a rag-tag force of Rohan peasants and 1000 elven archers.
    PC3: Is that 10,000 orcs, 10,000 Uruk-hai and 10,000 Cave-trolls? (gets his calculator out to start working out the XP)
    DM: No, just 10,000 in total, beside you can't see them over the wall. The Uruk-hai have marched in front of the wall, at this point a nervous Rohan peasant fires his crossbow, his shot catches the Uruk-hai in the neck dropping him.
    PC2: What! Hold on his light crossbow, drops him in one shot? Not only that they only have a range increment of 80ft. My longbows got better range than that, just how far from the wall are they?
    DM: About 60ft or so.
    PC2: and we just let them get this close? Back it up I've got at least 30 rounds of attacks, if they just marched to the wall. I could have been shooting them from 1000 ft away. What with Rapid Shot and my iterative attacks I could easily have killed more than 20 or so by now.
    DM: Okay there a 9,980 orcs standing outside Helm's Deep, happy!
    PC2: Fair enough, but I'm keeping a tally, I want the XP for them at the end.
    PC3: Hmmm that seems like a good idea. How many could I have killed by now?
    DM: Have you got any ranged weapons?
    PC3: Erm.... a couple of throwing axes.
    DM: Well, in that case they are not in range yet. So you are on zero.
    PC3: (mutters) typical.
    PC1: I won't bother shooting any early, I to busy commanding the troops, practicing for when I become King of Gondor.
    PC3: Then perhaps "The Future King of Gondor" might want to command them to open fire then since the enemy have been in range for the at least the last 20 rounds?
    PC1: Oh yeah.... "Fire!"
    DM: And so the Battle for Helm's Deep begins.

    DM: The King brings the blade down on the traitorous Wormtongue' s neck...
    PC1: I grapple him to stop his swing!
    DM: Ok....
    PC2&3: WHAT????
    PC3: Dude, you know if we let him live he's just going to give us more grief.
    PC1: Exactly. And then who will get the XP for killing him?
    PC2: We will!
    PC3: Brilliant.

    DM: ok, you are weak, but you do notice an ARMY of orcs, ect. marching in the direction of Helms Deep.
    PC1( Aragon): How many?
    DM: Your ranger eyes can tell at least 10,000.
    PC1: Crap, I try to ride in to oppisite direction of Helms Deep, I know I'm dead if we try to do confront them, time to look out for number one.
    DM: But, but you are suposed to warn them
    PC1: Screw that, they are dead. Better them then me.
    DM: you are too weak to control the horse, it gallops full speed to Helms Deep.
    PC1: Railroader..................

    DM: So, you strike the Balrog one last mighty blow. The sky shatters in lightning...
    PC: Yeah, yeah, is it dead already?
    DM: Um...yes.
    PC: Woo!
    DM: But you die too.
    PC: What? How can I die? I have 3hp left!
    DM: Exposure. You're on top of a freaking mountain with no protection.
    PC: Oh, great. Now I'm going to have to roll up a whole new character. I really liked him you know. I had all sorts of great background and everything.
    DM: Ok, OK, the gods send you back to finish your task, gain three levels a Paragon Horse familiar.
    PC: Sweet!

    DM: Gandalf, don't you have a message for Aragorn?
    PC1: Oh yeah. Here. *hands PC2 a note in the DM's handwriting."
    PC2: (reads the note): Dude, this is all flavor text. What's a Dune-dain? Who's Elessar? Whatever. *crumples up the note*
    PC3: Okay, whatever. Let's just head to Meduseld. These tights are starting to chafe.
    PC2: Medu-wha?
    PC3: Rohan.
    PC2: Rowho?
    PC3: The place with the horses.
    PC2: Oh yeah.
    PC1: I don't have a horse.
    PC4: I don't have a horse either. I'll just sit behind the elf.
    PC3: Dude, watch where you're putting those hands.
    DM: Okay, so you mount up and prepare to head across the plains of Rohan.
    PC1: I said I don't have a horse! Can I just call one or something? *fumbles through his character sheet* I have 16 ranks in wilderness lore.
    DM: Wha? How'd you get those?
    PC1: I told you, I dual classed into druid.
    PC2: We're playing 3rd editon.
    PC1: Right, whatever. Multiclassed. And I have some levels in paladin, so I can call a horse, right?
    DM: Okay, fine, whatever. You whistle and a horse runs up to you.
    PC3: Wow, how'd you whistle like that? Is that a feat?
    PC1: No, but because of all those wizard levels, can I make this my familiar so he can command other horses?

    DM: Whatever. You ride on to Rohan and are greeted at the entrance by a group of guards. They tell you that by order of Wormtongue, no weapons are permitted inside.
    PC4: Heh...Wangtongue
    DM: Wormtongue. Anyway, the guards try to take your weapons.
    PC2: No way. This is a +4 sword.
    DM: *glares*
    PC2: Er..umm..*reads from his character sheet* In this elvish sheath dwells the Blade that was Broken and has been made again. Telchar first wrought it in the deeps of time. Death shall come to any man that draws Elendil's sword save Elendil's heir.
    PC4: Woah! I want some flavor text. All I do is fall down.
    DM: That's nice roleplaying, but you don't have your sword back yet.
    PC2: Oh. In that case, I'll give him my sword.
    PC1: I'm totally gonna make him think that my staff is just a walking stick. *rolls* Bluff check of 43.
    DM: *curses under his breath* Okay. He takes the weapons from the dwarf and elf, but lets you keep your stick. As you enter the hall, you can clearly see that Theoden-king is not himself. The dark power of Sauruman fills his mind and has corrupted his body, leaving him a hollow, empty shell of a man. A thin, pale man in black robes..
    PC1: What's a Saruman? Is that a demon of some sort?
    PC2: Yeah yeah, enough flavor text. Are there any girls here? I want to do them!
    DM: Er..well..yes...your eyes are instantly drawn to Eowyn, daughter of the king. You can sense the desire in her eyes as she gazes upon the future king of Gondor.
    PC1: I'm gonna go talk some smack to Wangchung.
    DM: Wormtongue. Make an intimidate roll.
    PC1: *rolls* Natural 1, so...27.
    PC3: Why'd you let him be epic level, anyways?
    PC4: I'm gonna look for someone to fight.
    PC3: I'll join him. Been a while since I did any kung-fu.
    PC2: I'm gonna grab the girl. You know, to comfort her.
    PC1: Okay, I'm gonna exorcise the demon.
    DM: What demon?
    PC1: That Sauruman thing. You said it posessed him, right?
    DM: Er..well..yeah, okay, whatever. You cast dispel magic on Theoden. Make a caster level check.
    PC1: *rolls* 87. *is instantly pelted by dice, minis, empty mountain dew cans, cheetos, and a PHB*
    DM: Well..okay, guess there's not much I can do against that. You drive Sauruman's controlling force out of Theoden's body. For now, at least, it looks like Rohan is free of...
    PC2: 35.
    DM: ...Saruman's...what? 35 what?
    PC4: Rowho?
    PC2: On the seduction roll. I'm gonna do that princess now.
    PC3: Could I get some pants around here? I'm really sick of wearing tights with that dwarf down there...
    DM: I give up. Let's pick this up next week, hopefully I can salvage something. Maybe throw in a few orcs or something...

    PC1: They sent you to Helm's Deep to drop some pounds man. You are a fat elf!
    PC2: No I'm not! I was sent to here to honor the pact of old!
    DM. You are totally a fat elf man.
    PC1: /laughs
    PC2: Whatever. I've had enough of you guys. I'm going home.
    DM: /blinks
    PC1: /blinks
    DM: Oh well... The orcs cut him down.

    DM: Okay, the Orcs have breached the walls and you have all withdrawn into the keep. The Orcs pound up the broad, shallow stairs and ready their wicked ram.
    Legolas: Enough with the flavor text already. Can I shoot them?
    DM: No, the doors are closed.
    Legolas: There isn't even a window?
    DM: Not in the door, no. Speaking of windows, the ones high on the side walls are now bright with rosy-fingered dawn.
    Aragorn: Man, you need to stop reading so much Homer. All this poet-stuff is getting old.
    DM: All right, okay. It's dawn.
    Gimli: Yes? Are you trying to tell us something?
    DM: Aragorn, don't you remember what Gandalf told you before he left to fetch Eomer?
    Aragorn: Um... "Don't get too close to wargs?"
    DM: No, dumdum, he told you to look for him on the morning of the fifth day.
    Aragorn: So he's out there now, with Eomer?
    DM: Yes, you think so. He's out there by himself --
    Gimli: No he's not, he's got two thousand horseguys with him! I say we head into the mountains and get outta here! I've only got ten hit points left.
    Legolas: Can I open the doors a crack and shoot the Orcs?
    DM: No you can't. That's the point of the doors: they don't open. The ram is supposed to do that, and if you open the doors even a bit they'll force their way in.
    Legolas: Okay, fine. How are the doors doing? Is there a hole in them yet?
    DM: No there isn't. There are a few Rohirrim trying to barricade the door with chairs and tables and things. So you couldn't shoot anything without hitting them, anyway.
    Legolas: But I have Superior Precise Shot! I know, maybe I can shoot a hole in the door with my arrows! Okay, I shoot the door.
    DM: Uhhh... Okay, one of the old men looks at you funny and says, "What are you doing? Grab a table or something and shove it against the door!"
    Legolas: Crap! They won't let me do this? What about my Elf homeys? They won't let some stupid horse-farmer talk to a brother like that!
    DM: They wouldn't... if they were here.
    All PCs: What!?!! Where'd they all go?
    DM: Umm... into the cave.
    Gimli: Screw this! Let's get outta here!

    PC1 (Bilbo): Ok, I say goodbye to everyone around and quickly put on my ring.
    DM: Ermmm, right in front of everyone to see?
    PC1: Sure, why not?
    DM: Alright... you slip it on behind your back and go invisible. Everyone gasps.
    PC2 (Gandalf): Hey, how did he do that?!? He didn't choose a wizard alignment!!!
    PC1: I run invisible to the house
    DM: Did you read the background info I gave you for Bilbo?
    PC2: Dude, I couldn't even finish MINE!
    PC2: Alright, I cast Transportation to his house so I can look mysterious and stuff.
    PC1: YO, DM! I SAID I run invisible to the house
    DM: Alright, you run invisible to the house.
    PC1: I take off the ring and flip it in the air and put it in my pocket.
    DM: You do so and notice Gandalf is behind you.
    PC1: Whoa, I didn't want anyone to know where I went! I hate all these stupid wizards.
    PC2: He has a magic RING? DUDE! I want it! I try to talk him out of it.
    DM: Roll a persuasion skill.
    PC2: Crap, lost one of my dies, you do it.
    DM: *sighs* Alright... A fail, he sees right through your deception.
    PC1: He's trying to take the ring isn't he!!! He's got that staff and everything and he still wants my ring!!
    PC1: I get angry and call him on it!
    PC2: Man, I REALLY want that ring. I cast Make Room Dark and Enlarge so he'll see he has to give it to me or die!
    DM: Your alignment is chaotic good, you can't do that.
    PC1: He's going to kill me isn't he!? I use the ring to blast him out of the house!
    PC2: fine, whatever, I shrink back down and make the lights come on.
    DM: No, see, Gandalf stopped.
    PC1: Awwww. Alright, I act all pitiful and hug him so he won't be suspicious.
    DM: Roll charisma.
    PC1: haha! 76
    DM: Cute, aincha? He takes you in his arms and pats your head.
    PC2: This is like way freaky, man.
    PC2: Alright, I try to talk him into leaving it for, uh, Frodo. He'll believe that!
    DM: Roll again... oh, still missing those dice?
    PC2: Yeah...
    DM: Huh, ok, well, you manage to talk him into it, barely.
    PC1: WHAT?! Whatta load of ****! I'm outta here!
    PC2: Haha, I follow him out and hug him again just to rub it in.
    PC2: I come back in and take the ring.
    DM: You reach for it but suddenly you feel a blast of heat which nearly burns your hand and your mind is filled with visions of flame.
    PC2: Ah, c'mon!
    DM: Uh uh, you made a promise.
    PC1: Whatever, I'm going to get a smoke and wait for Frodo.

    DM: Legolas, the orcs have been routed and Helm's Deep remains standing. On the battlefield, you see Gimli sitting on the carcass of a dead orc and smoking a pipe.
    PC1 (Legolas): How many orcs did you kill during the siege?
    PC2 (Gimli): Fourty-two.
    PC1: You beat me by ONE kill?! How the hell did you manage to do that?
    PC2: Great Cleave and Whirlwind Attack, my friend. Boy, I'll tell you, few things in life are more enjoyable than out-killing a twink elf archer.

    Jason: I look to the North.
    Marcus: You see 10,000 orcs charging your fortress, prepared for battle.
    Jason: My elf fires an arrow of +205 Devastation.
    Marcus: Hit! The orc army is destroyed!
    Jason (aside): Clearly, Tolkien never played D&D.
    Marcus: Now you see 10,000 balrogs charging your fortress...

    PC9: Well as least I died with my boots on.
    DM: Yes, the others come back to find orc carcasses piled up around you.
    PC1: Dude, you let the orcs get the halflings?
    PC9: Well, you're the ones that left me alone to face 100 Epic level Uruk-hai!
    PC2: Whatever can I have his horn? Wasn't it a Horn of Blasting or something?
    DM: No, it was cloven in the battle.
    PC3: What about his sword, it was cool?
    DM: Uh, broken at the hilt.
    PC1: This sucks. Hey where is the rest of the guys.
    DM: They left hours ago.
    PC2: Cool, now they won't slow us down.
    PC 3: Sure they won't Dwarf.
    PC9: Ok, I rolled up my new character and I used that LONG backstory you gave me. He kind of suck though. What is he a troll halfling?
    DM: He will be great to roll play trust me...
    PC9: WTF!!! First you let Gandalf come back and then you let that twink ranger cheat death. Why couldn't I keep my character! I earned major XPs killing those orcs!
    DM: Uh, because, because it created dramatic tension and, and furthered the plot, and and showed how dangerous your quest was.
    PC1: 'Cause you failed your WILL save dufus, and tried to take the stupid ring from the stupid thief.
    PC9: Whatever, I try and kill the two halflings I am with.....

    Player: "A Balrog, Now I understand what the DM is up to. What an Evil encounter! And I am already out of high-level spells."
    DM: " The dark figure steaming with fire races towards you. The Orc yell and pour over the stone gangways behind it.
    Other Player: "I blow the Horn of Gondor!"
    Others laugh in a juvenile mood.
    Third Player: "That always cracks me up."
    DM: "Um... the Orcs stop dead in their tracks, awed by the challenge, but the Balrog pushes on undaunted, giving them greater strenght of will. They continue."
    Player: "I summon all the strenght I have left and shout 'Over the bridge! Get the Hell out!' This is a Challenge Rating beyond any of you."
    Yet Another Player: "Well, I'm outta here!"
    Other Player: "I'm not leaving Ol' Gan to fight this demon-thingy alone! He's way ahead of us on Exp. and levels already!"
    Player the Fifth: "He's right! And with me being his best friend and future king and all I should help!"
    DM: "As the Balrog reaches the bridge, your Holy Avenger gleams cold and white. It halts before you, spreading it's wings casting a vast shadow on the walls behind it."
    Elf Player: "A Wizard with a Holy Avenger?! And you complain about my 'broken' Archery progression!"
    Player #1: "'You cannot pass!' Does it frighten them?"
    DM: "The Orcs stop and grow eerily quiet. But the Balrog seems unimpressed."
    Player: "'I am a servant of the Secret Fire, and wielder of a Ring of Elemental Command (Fire)! You cannot pass! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Hell!'"
    DM: "Udun. My campaign's hell is called Udun."
    Player: "Okay, 'the dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! Crawl back into the Underdark. You cannot pass!'"
    Back-Up Hobbit Player: "Niiiice!!"
    DM: "The Balrog makes no answer. It grows darker, and stabs at you with it's flaming sword." (rolledy-roll) "Miss. What do you do?"
    Player #1: "Can I disarm or sunder his sword with Glamdring?"
    DM: "You can try! Make an attack roll."
    Player: (Rolls) "W00t! Natural Twenty!"
    DM: (groans) "Not again! Okay, there's a flash and a metallic sound, and the Balrog's sword falls away in molten pieces."
    Player: "I repeat: 'You cannot pass!'"
    DM: "The Balrog leaps forward at your challenge, brandishing its many-thonged whip."
    Player the Fifth: "He can't take it on alone! I run up and help him!"
    Other Player: "'For Gondor!' I follow Aarg!"
    Player: "Get back, idiots! I cast my last Maximised Fireball at the Balrog's feet!"
    All others: "What?! Are you insane!"
    Player: "I can take the damage! And in the campaign notes it said that the Bridge of Khazad-Dum is thin and narrow, so if I break it while the Balrog is on it..."
    DM: "...."
    Player: "Well?"
    DM: "I.. I... Okay! Okay! The bridge cracks, and the Balrog plummets to his death! But even as it falls, it swings its whip, tripping you per the whip rules combined with Improved Trip. You stagger and are dragged off. Any last words?"
    Player: "... Why you..."
    DM: "To the Fellowship, I mean!"
    Player #1: "Expeditious Retreat, you fools!"
    Agifem, Auteur des Chroniques de l'Age Sombre, mordeur des titreurs négligeants, molosse modérateur du forum NeverWinter Nights 1, et Tyran Suprème du forum NeverWinter Nights 2.

    Un dernier merci à Egrevyn, mon ami, pour tout ce que tu as fait pour nous tous.

  4. #4
    Date d'inscription
    November 2002
    Entre nulle part et partout.
    2 310
    Le Retour du Roi

    Player 1: OK. So I'm running around on the battlefield, avoiding the war elephants and trying to pick off as many people as I can with my bow.
    DM: Those are some big critters, and you're a pretty visible target as an elf with demonstrated l33t archery skills. I'm gonna say that (pause) five archers get a shot off at you this round (Rolls 15 dice, sighs) they all miss.
    P1: Whew, that was lucky. I need to change things a bit. What's the DC for climbing up the side of an elephant as it's going full speed, while it's carrying a dozen archers who are trying to kill me?
    DM: Well.... that'd be, like, a DC... 100.
    P1: OK. (rolls) Made it!
    DM: (groans) Next thing you're going to tell me is that you're going to cut the platform off of the elephant, hang on to the rope as it falls off the side so that you can climb all the way to the top, use Manyshot to fire arrows into the elephant's brain, then surf down its trunk as it dies!
    P1: Good idea. I'll make sure I land right in front of Player 2, jus' for style points.
    DM: Sigh.

    DM: Okay, the orc army looks to be a couple miles away and is marching towards the city. Now would be a good time to prepare some defenses and help rally the troops.
    Wizard: Nah, I loaded up on big spells. In one minute, my first Reality Maelstorm prepped with War Spell goes off. The planar rift is 2000 feet across, so anyone in the area needs to make DC 30 Will saves to avoid getting dumped to a random plane. The rift creates a windstorm 4000 ft across that sucks anyone failing the DC 30 Ref save into the planar.
    DM: So you kill just about everything over an area of almost a mile?
    Wizard: Yep. And it lasts for 2 minutes, so it will also slow their advance.
    DM: Seems reasonable, since they have to go around, or wait for the Nazgul to dispel it.
    Wizard: That should give me enough time to fire off my other 2 War maelstorms. If the wraiths start getting close, I'll use Great Rod of Quickening and a Meteor Swarm to hammer them. They aren't interupting my spells.
    DM: Well, actually, some of the Nazgul failed their saves too. And the winds are strong enough to ground the others.
    Wizard: Okay, then I fire off my other maelstorms and also use War Mass Devastions.
    DM: Err, then you blow up the army in about 5 minutes. You only get XP for the Nazgul though.
    Wizard: Rip off.

    Player 1: OK, so I'm still alive, even though I lost my +2 orcbane short sword and that stupid plot-item of yours. I'll look around to make sure that spider's still not after me.
    DM: Make your Spot check.
    Player 1: Let's see. 13, plus all of my bonuses... 21. Do I see anything?
    DM: You see nothing, and then you feel a sharp jab of pain as you are hit by Shelob's stinger. Make a Fortitude save.
    Player 1: What? Stinger? Do you even know what a spider looks like?!
    DM: It's a special spider. Now roll the save.
    Player 1: Damn it! A 2!
    DM: Your eyes roll up and you foam at the mouth. Take [roll, roll] 8 points of Strength damage.
    Player 1: Well, I'm gone. [sotto voce] Damn hobbits...
    DM: Shelob grabs you and wraps you in her silk. she opens her mandibles to feed, and...
    Player 2: I jump in, carrying Sting and the Light of Elendil, and shout "Get away from him, you filth!"
    Player 1: But I left you behind at the Stairs!
    Player 2: It's not in character for me to give up that easy. Besides, you know Gollum was tricking you now, don't you?
    Player 1: Well, yeah...
    DM: Shelob drops the catatonic Frodo and lunges for you, fangs snapping.
    Player 2: I designate the spider for my Dodge bonus and wave the Light menacingly.
    DM: Shelob cringes, but it's not good enough. She lunges [roll, roll] and misses you narrowly.
    Player 2: OK, I climb up onto the rock wall, in order to get my higher ground bonus.
    DM: Shelob follows you up.
    Player 2: Fine. I attack [roll, roll]. A 25 total. Nice! Did I hit?
    DM: You stab Shelob in the mouth, and she cringes and screeches.
    Player 2: Good! I dive underneath her, and stab upwards at her belly.
    DM: Wha...
    Player 2: She's Huge, right? That means I can move through her space, right? That way, I'm out of reach of her bite.
    DM: Fine. She [roll, roll] fails her attack of oppurtunity, and you get to attack.
    Player 2: Crap! A 1!
    DM: Sting flies from your hand, and Shelob [roll, roll] grapples you, preventing you from grabbing it back.
    Player 2: Fine. That's what Escape Artist is for. [Roll, roll]. 32. Do I get free?
    DM: Yes. [sigh].
    Player 2: I grab Sting and thrust it deeply into her belly.
    Player 1: Do you realize how Freudian that sounds?
    Player 2: Shut up. [Roll, roll] A natural 20! Double damage! That's [roll, roll] 32 points right there.
    DM: Shelob screeches in pain, and retreats. You are victorious. And the xp puts you up a level.
    Player 2: Finally! Screw the gardener thing, this one's going into fighter.

    DM: Okay, you managed to drive the vicious spider back into her cave. You look over and you can see Frodo lying on the ground, covered in webs.
    PC1: Is he moving?
    DM: Nope, he looks dead to you
    PC2: I'm not dead!
    PC1: Okay, I'm gonna loot the body. Does he have anything good?
    PC2: Hey! I'm not dead!
    PC1: Shut up, I want that ring. Does he have anything else? Any gp?
    DM: As you start rifling through your fallen companion's loot, you notice his sword start to glow.
    PC1: Sweet, a magic sword! Wait a minute...where'd you get this?
    PC2: was a relative. *nervously hides his character sheet*
    PC1: This sucks, you get all this phat loot from the NPCs and all I get is lembas bread. I'm gonna go hide over here, maybe the orcs will take you away. Thanks for the ring, sucka!

    DM: (rolls) The troll strikes you again, dealing 32 damage and knocking you to the ground.
    Aragorn: Okay, I won't stand up, since that would provoke an AoO. Instead, I'll draw my dagger and stab the troll in the foot. (rolls a few times)
    DM: You hit it for 5 damage.
    Aragorn: Dammit. I came this far, only to get waxed by a troll.
    DM: ...Um, suddenly, the troll runs away. In fact, the Dark Lord's entire army suddenly breaks and retreats. In the distance, you see the dark tower crumbling. Congratulations, the dark lord has been destroyed and the quest is over!
    Aragorn: ...You're serious.
    Legolas: It's over just like that?
    DM: Just like that.
    Gandalf: And to think, I was saving up all the spell charges in my staff for the battle with the BBEG.

    Merry: Wait a minute, I just noticed that Eowyn and I are flanking the Witch-King. Sneak-attack damage, here I come! (rolls) Ooh, good rolls. I inflict 54 damage.
    DM: The witch-king pitches forward and screams as your sword strikes a painful blow.
    Eowyn: I attack with my longsword, sacrificing my full BAB to do a Power Attack and weilding it as a two-handed weapon since the bastard broke my shield. (rolls twice) Ooh, a critical hit! I deal... (rolls) ... 47 damage!
    DM: Uh... you thrust your sword into his helmet and he dies.
    Merry: Really? I thought the Witch-King was supposed to be a major badass.
    Eowyn: Yeah, that dire tiger we fought in our other campaign was a bigger challenge.

    DM: Grief stricken and hopeless, Denethor orders the soldiers to abandon Minas Tirith.
    Player 2: Man, what a whiner.
    Player 1: I'll say. What're the soldiers doing?
    DM: Staring at the regent in shock. Some of them are starting to turn to leave.
    Player 2: We can't take on 9 wraiths, 8 oliphants, an army or orcs and a fleet of mercenaries by ourselves! Gandalf's the one with Diplomacy, stop him!
    DM: Did you read the module!?
    Player 1: Okay, I whack Denethor with my staff!
    DM: You what?
    Player 2: Cool! (hiding his copy of Return of the King under his Player's Handbook)
    DM: Don't you have, like, 15 ranks in Diplomacy?
    Player 1: I also have this +4 quarterstaff. So, I hit him! (roll, roll) 22 and 24! Hah! For (roll roll) 16 points of damage!
    DM: (hastily looks up the stats for Denethor) (sigh) His eyes roll back in his head and he falls over, unconscious.

    DM: Okay, Mike, you've just returned from being routed at Osgiliath. Your father is waiting for you. Steve?
    Mike: Whoa, wait a minute, Steve is playing my father? I thought he was going to be an NPC?
    DM: He was, but then you killed Steve's Southron character.
    Steve: Yeah! Why do you always have to shoot first! I was going to have this great, emotionally-conflicted Southron who would help you bring together both sides in the war.
    Mike: Hey, I said I was sorry! I thought you were charging. Anyway, I did that monologue for you, remember? "I wonder if he really was evil, yadda yadda yadda..." what more do you want?
    Steve: You'll see...
    Mike: I don't like this, he's going to use his new character for revenge!
    DM: No he won't, I already talked to him about it. Denethor is a noble character. Now, what do you say to Faramir, Steve.
    Steve: I, Denethor, order him to retake Osgiliath.
    Mike: What!
    DM: Uh, Steve, there's about 10,000 Orcs in Osgiliath right now. Faramir doesn't stand a chance. Don't you think Denethor would want to keep his son alive?
    Steve: Son smun! I order Faramir to retake Osgiliath, and I tell him I wish he would have died instead of Boromir.
    DM: sigh Alright, what do you do, Mike?
    Mike: Well, I'm kind of sick of this character anyway. I charge straight towards Osgiliath.
    Steve: Die, sucka!
    DM: Where's my tylenol...?

    Mike: I made my stabilizing roll!
    Steve: What!!!
    DM: Ok, your horse drags you back into Minas Tirith. Steve?
    Steve: Stinkin' dice. My dice have deserted me. They've betrayed me. My characters always die. Why me?
    DM: Roll a spot check.
    Steve: 15.
    DM: You notice 20,000 Orcs on the plains below.
    Steve: Man, I've had it. This Steward stuff seemed like it'd be cool, but I can't even kill my stinkin' son. I start raving and I tell all my soldiers to kill myself.
    DM: Gandalf, are you just going to stand there and listen?
    Gandalf: Huh? You want me to fight something? Cause my new +4 staff is leet.
    DM: No, I mean talk to Denethor! Your diplomacy score is through the roof, remember? I gave you that stat bonus for a reason, come on, roleplay this out you guys, please.
    Steve: He doesn't even let me have any magic items... except that Palantir thingy... and all that does is show me my past character's deaths...
    Gandalf: I wack him with my 'leet staff.
    DM: By "whack him with your staff" you mean "talk him out of his madness" right?
    Gandalf: No, I frelling whack him with my staff! *rolls* 29!
    DM: *sigh* I'm gonna need more Tylenol. That hits. Denthor lies unconscious on the ground.
    Gandalf: I loot his body! Got any cool magic items?
    DM: He doesn't have any magic items! He's a ruler, not an adventurer for crying out loud! And the soldiers don't seem to be too happy about you beating their ruler.
    Gandalf: Oh... well, I still have that diplomacy bonus, right? I tell them that, in Maia culture, knocking someone out is a sign of affection. Then I tell them to keep fightin' and stuff.
    DM: Ok, but something so impossibly, incredibly stupid will give you a -20 penalty on your Diplomacy roll.
    Gandalf: With negative... 18!
    DM: They believe you.

    Steve: Man, I hate this. Are there any of my guards around?
    DM: Er... yes.
    Steve: Sweet. I tell them to take Mike's body and put it in a pile of wood. And then burn it. Until Mike is dead.
    DM: You know Faramir is still alive, right?
    Steve: Yes, but not for long! I start cackling with maniacal glee!
    Mike: I told you!
    Steve: Shut up you're unconcious!
    DM: Okay the guards obey. Pippin?
    Pippin: I try to save Faramir.
    Steve: Oh no you don't! I grapple Pippin and throw him out!
    Pippin: Darn size penalty. I go tell Gandalf that Denthor is burning Faramir with his equipment.
    Gandalf: Burning magic items! Not on my watch! Hi-ho Shadowfax!
    DM: Okay, you find Denthor about to burn himself and his son!
    Steve: Revenge is sweet.
    Gandalf: Ha, I rolled 25 on my initiative. I grapple Denethor.
    Steve: No!
    Pippin: I grab Faramir and save him.
    Steve: That's it. I try to free myself from Gandalf. rolls 30?
    DM: You're free.
    Steve: I set myself on fire! I embrace sweet, sweet death.
    DM: Uh, that's great. You take 1d6 fire damage.
    Steve: Are you kidding me? I just fricking covered myself in oil and setm yself on fire? How can it take 10 rounds to kill me?
    DM: Those are the rules.
    Steve: I don't want to wait that long. I run out of the room and I jump off the courtyard, screaming "Adriaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnn!!!!"
    Gandalf: Crap, now I can't loot his body.
    DM: He never had any magic items!

    Player 1(Gandalf): Ok, now that we saved Helms Deep, we ride to Isenguard to take care of Sarumon.
    DM(worried, knowing that he did not map out the insides of the tower): Um, ugh, you get to the tower, Treebeard and the Ents are there and have it well in hand. Treebeard says that the wizard is locked in the tower, and you don't feel anymore magic coming from it.
    Player 2: You just don't have the area ready, admit it.
    DM: No, thats not it at all.

    DM : You, Frodo, wander towards the fortress along the causeway possessed by the Ring.
    PC 1 : Aww! Don't I get a save?
    DM : The gates open and a horde of orcs starts to march out.
    PCs 2 & 3 : We grab Frodo and hide behind that big rock!
    DM : You hide? OK. Make a skill roll each.
    PCs : Yes! They'll never see us with these rolls.
    DM : Except on a natural twenty... Let's see 20,000 d20 Spot checks. Can I borrow your dice?
    PCs (together) : We hates you we does!

    DM: Okay... the soldiers of Minas Tirith are loading their trebuchets with chunks of masonry, and it looks like they're targeting you.
    Player1 (Orc general): Bah! Puny humans, I shall wear their skulls as my codpiece!
    Player2: Dude, stop saying that. It's getting creepy.
    DM: They fire... one of the stones is heading straight for you! Make a Reflex save!
    Player1: Nope.
    DM? What?
    Player1: I don't wanna make a Reflex save.
    DM: Uhhhm... why not?
    Player1: I just told my troops to hold fast... I can't be seen to wuss out in front of them!
    Player2: (sotto voce) Drama queen.
    DM: Just make a save, man.
    Player1: Nuh uh.
    DM: (rustling of pages) Here, under artillery... it says you make a save to avoid the attack. It doesn't say you may make a save, if you like.
    Player1: *sigh* Fine. *roll roll*. 21.
    DM: You narrowly avoid the huge rock.
    Player1: *hoik-ptooeh!* Freaking rules lawyer DM...

    DM: The Southron oliphaunt howdah plummets to the ground with an almighty thunder of shattering wood.
    Player1: How many soldiers were there on board?
    DM: Ohh... about eight.
    Player1: (turns to Player2 and smiles smugly) Hear that? Eight to me.
    Player2: (makes rude gesture) Bite it, elf boy. (adds eight ticks to the big scoreboard next to the gaming table)
    DM: Meanwhile, the oliphaunt is goping on a rampage, and...
    Player1: I run up it's neck and fire three arrows into it's skull! *roll roll* Three crits! That's... 294 damage!
    Player2: (sotto voce) Munchkin.
    Player1: What was that?
    Player2: Frog in my throat.
    DM: (gleefully) The oliphaunt starts to fall... you realise you're going to be crushed under its bulk!
    Player1: Wait... I run up its head, then surf down its nose!
    DM: ...
    Player2: ...
    DM: ...
    Player2: You mean trunk, right?
    Player1: OK, sure.
    DM: No way! That's impossible!
    Player1: (smugly) Ahh... but you let me do it last session. With the shield? On the stairs? At the dumb siege?
    DM: (caught by his own precedent) Sh*t. Ok... Balance check... DC 80!
    Player1: Luckily, my Elven Stunt Acrobatics feat grants me +20 to the roll. Man, I'm glad I bought that one. *roll roll* 92! I pass.
    DM: I hate you so very much.
    Player2: (sotto voce) Seconded.
    Player1: What was that?
    Player2: Just belittling you.
    DM: Fine... you skate down the oliphaunts trunk and land on the ground with Elven grace.
    Player1: (grinning) Now... we were counting mosnters as a number of kills based on hit dice, right?
    DM & Player2: NO!

    DM is reciting a long, poetic wrap up to the game, describing the celebrations of the men of Minas Tirith as they learn the Shadow is vanquished and Aragorn is crowned king of Gondor. A fall of petals descends, and Aragorn launches into a beautiful, baritone lament for the fallen and prayer for the future. Suddenly, a small voices interupts this intricatly prepared speech...

    Player 1: My score is 42 kills.
    Player 2: Not bad for a pointy-eared elf princeling. I, however, am sitting pretty at 43 kills.
    Player 1: Are there any wounded orcs still alive?
    DM: One near you is still twitching.
    Player 1: I coup-de-grace it.
    Player 2: See why I hate playing with twink elf players?

    Aragorn: I try to command the Undead.
    Legolas and Gimli: You WHAT?!??!
    DM: Eerie green figures of warriors long dead rise from the floors and walls, surrounding you.
    Player 1: I command them to serve me.
    Player 2: I gulp in terror.
    Player 3 (to Player 2): We're well and truly farked, man. Explain to me again why we've been encouraging his delusions?
    DM: The king of the dead approaches, failing to heed your commands. He swings his sword ...
    Player 1: I attempt to parry.
    DM: Your blade halts his swing, the ringing impact echoing through the chamber. There is a hush as the dead issue a collective gasp.
    Player 1: COOL! The macguffin the elf dude gave me is a ghost touch bastard sword!
    Player 2 (grumbles): DM's pet!

    GM: Ok .. make a Reflex save, DC 23
    Player2: (rolls an 18) sigh .. I would have made it if I didn't have to carry all this stuff! (glares at player1)
    GM: The rock under you gives way and you slide down towards the Black Gate. (rolls behind screen) 2 Haradrim seem to notice and head your way
    Player2: I try to hide behind something
    GM: Sorry, you are half buried in gravel. You can't move anywhere to hide.
    Player1: Can I get to him before the soldiers?
    GM: You'll have to make a balance check, DC 35 to make it to him in time without falling
    Player1: (rolls a 12) I make it easily
    Player2: Let's see you make a balance check carrying all these Lembas rations!
    Player1: Hey .. you're the one who insisted on bringing pots and pans!
    GM: I'm not sure what you've gained .. now the soldiers will surely see you in about 2 seconds
    Player1: I use the Cloak of Lothlorien to cover us both so the soldiers won't see us
    GM: Hmm .. ok .. tell you what. You make a Hide roll DC 40 and Player2 needs the same roll, but he gets a bonus from your cloak.
    Players roll .. both successes
    GM: (rolls behind screen) The Haradrim walk about 6 inches from where you are hiding, but they seem oblivious to your presence. You guys luck out again! They shrug and head to the Black Gate.
    Player2: That's it! You start carrying all this stuff. I'm not buying that "I have the heavy magic item" crap anymore!

    GM: OK, you're in the White City and you see all these guys running like hell from Osgippht -- the city on the river, and they're being chased by the Black Rider guys.
    Gandalf's Player: Holy Crap, umm ummm...
    Pippin's Player: I shoot an arrow.
    DM: They're like a mile away, idiot.
    Pippin's Player: I still wanna shoot an arrow. I took a level in Fighter and I want to at least use it.
    Gandalf's Player: Um, we're screwed, I'm outta spells for the day.
    DM: What?
    Gandalf's Player: I'm outta spells. I didn't sleep last night and I rode all the way here and did that sneaking around...
    Pippin's Player: Oh, great, Mister Wizard here has, what? Gimme that? Here, use that.
    Galdalf's Player: *looks at sheet, looks at PP* You're crazy.
    Pippin's Player: It'll work, trust me.
    Gandalf's Player: I charge out of the city, right at the onrushing survivors and the Black Riders.
    DM: OK, we're gonna go over this whole suicide complex you seem to h--
    Gandalf's Player: It'll work! Really!
    DM: Jeez, OK, what do you do? You're tough but you know that, dude, five Black Riders are gonna make mincemeat outta you?
    Pippin's Player: Let him finish.
    Gandalf's Player: OK, I got this concentration bonus, and I roll.. 20, so I can cast on horseback... I throw an Extended Enlarged Empowered Daylight spell on the specters, I mean Black Riders.
    GM: SH**! They run.
    Players: AWRIGHT!

    DM: OK, Aragon, Gimli and Legolas go off into the mountains--
    Eowyn's Player: Wait. Wait, no. I won't have a better time than this.
    DM: What?
    Aragorn's Player: Yeah, what?
    Eowyn's Player: Eowyn goes up to Aragorn and tells him she loves him.
    Aragorn's Player: Too bad.
    Eowyn's Player: (Dangerously low) What?
    Aragorn's Player: I said 'Too bad', I've got the hots for the elf; I told you this, like, back at the horse people place.
    Eowyn's Player: You SOB! I knew it! I knew it when I saw him give you that necklace thing last week!
    Legolas' Player: (spits Coke all over his character sheet)
    Aragorn's Player: Whoa, Nelly! I did not say..
    Eowyn's Player: Yes, you just did! You said you had the hots for the elf! He's an elf and he gave you the necklace thing. I heard him.
    DM: Actually, he--
    Eowyn's Player: (Rounding on DM) Oh, you shut up! You got me to play this thing because you said it was [sarcastic Cartman voice] all romantic and stuff /sarcastic Cartman voice]. I've been trying to get in Aragorn's shorts for five sessions now and now you tell me?!
    Aragorn's Player: You want my shorts?
    Gimli's Player: *passes out from laughing.*
    Aragorn's Player: I said Arwen. Not Eowyn, Arwen.
    Eowyn's Player: 'wyn', 'wen' whatever, I'm going home.
    DM: I have the car...
    Eowyn's Player: Not after tonight you don't.
    DM: Hon!
    Eowyn's Player: Don't 'Hon' me! You said 'romance'.
    DM: Yeah, but not for you.
    Eowyn's Player: Those words will come back to haunt you...

    DM: okay ... we'll be playing epic tonight ... lets review our characters ..
    Player1: I'm Aragorn ... Xlevel Ranger, Xlevel, Paladin ...
    Player2: I'm a half-celestial elven ranger with a 38 dexterity ...
    Player3: I'm a dwarf ... um fighter, I kill things ... but with my 6 cha I don't say anything.
    Player 4&5: um we can only play for a little while tonight ...
    DM: fine, here you can play these hobbits ... I think they're about 7th lvl.
    DM: poop! Frodo and Sam aren't going to be here ... well we'll just make up some melodramatic scenes for them while we take food breaks.

    DM: You finally arrive at the destination of your quest: the Crack of Doom in the heart of Mount Doom, the one place where the Ring can be destroyed. What do you do?
    Player1: You know what, I'm sick of this. I've been pushed around by men, bitten by spiders, tormented by orcs, and I haven't earned one single miserable XP on this stupid adventure. I'm not going to destroy the Ring. I'm going to put it on and become the next Dark Lord.
    DM: (thinking fast) Okay... you put on the ring... but, make a Spot check.
    Player1: Huh? 19.
    DM: You fail to see Gollum lurking in the shadows. He rushes at you, (roll, roll) beats your miss chance for being invisible, (roll, roll) succeeds at a melee touch attack to grab you and attempts to start a grapple. Make a grapple check.
    Player1: Um... 12?
    DM: (roll, roll) Sorry, he's now grappling you. Make an initiative check.
    Player1: 14.
    DM: (roll, roll) He beats your initative and attempts to grab the Ring from your finger. (roll, roll) A critical hit! Gollum bites off your finger with the Ring, releases you from the grapple and dances in glee at the edge of the Crack of Doom, (roll, roll) but he makes a bad Balance check and falls into the lava with the Ring. The Ring is destroyed! Middle Earth is saved!
    (long silence)
    Player1: Do I at least get XP for Gollum?

    DM: So Denethor's just sent his only living son off on a suicide mission. An akward pause fills the throne room. You look around, and all those other flunky dudes seem to have snuck off during the argument. Denethor is munching down chicken and shows no signs of sharing.
    Player 1: Dude, this sucks. I'm a halfling. If I don't eat every 2 hours, somebody's gonna get hurt.
    DM: What are you going to do?
    Player 1: I sing.
    DM: You what?
    Player 1: I put 5 points in Perform, and I'm damn well going to use them. I'll make Denethor so sad about his son, that he leaves the table. And then that chicken is mine.
    DM: Why did you put points in... oh, nevermind Make me a Perform check.
    Player 1: Natural 20. Cry like a girly for me, Steward guy.
    DM: Your voice rings through the hall, a lament for the cruelty of fathers, and the bravery of sons. Listeners weep, but Denethor keeps eating.
    Player 1: Weak.

    Player 1: I charge at the giant spider and attack.
    Player 2: Are you nuts? You saw how easily that thing did in Frodo.
    DM: *shrugs* Roll init.
    Player 1: 17
    DM: Shelob got 14. Roll attack.
    Player 1: 20... 18... critical hit! I deal 14 damage.
    DM: Okay, Shelob tries to bite you and sting you... 2... 1... okay, she missed both times.
    *Five minutes later*
    DM: You strike Shelob with yet another painful blow, and she retreats back into her cave.
    Player 1: XP?
    Player 2: How the hell did a 1st-level commoner beat a dire monsterous spider?!
    Player 3: I smell loaded dice.

    Gandalf: Pip, I need you to do me a favor. Go light that beacon.
    Pippin: You want me to climb WHAT??? You do realize I have a -2 to strength, right?

    Gandalf Player: So... we win, is Saruman still in his tower?
    DM: Yes.
    GP: Ok, let's get him outta there, but DON'T harm the tower, ok guys??
    Others: Yeah, yeah, you get all the magic loot, we know, it could be dangerous like that orb Pippin found. Can't we have something?
    GP: I'll make you a sword or sumptin later, once we get XP, ok?
    Others: Are you sure Saruman is out of spells? He has been up there just resting this entire time, he has got to be recharged with some nasty tricks by now.
    GP: Nah, he's spent. We toss him out of the tower.
    DM: Saruman flops out of the tower, disgraced. His once pure white robes are now muddied and soiled gray. Wormtongue follows him, wimpering.
    Others: That's it?!? No traps to disarm? No magic-fight? Nothing??
    GP: Yeah, now where is Saruman's spell book, I want that spell where he controls the weather and stuff. Gimme gimme gimme.
    DM: His spellbook is strangely missing, and he doesn't seem to have it with him either. As a matter of fact, the whole tower is empty of any items of significance.
    All: What?? Nothing?? What a rip off! It's not like Sauron was carrying any treasure on his eye-body for us to take! And the evil super knight just crumpled up into nothingness when he was slain! What's the deal?!?
    DM: I told you it's a low-magic setting, didn't I?
    Aragorn Player: Well, I got a magic sword, and have a kingdom to run now...
    Others: That's because you are married to the DM! And you only got to marry Eowyn because she is an NPC!
    Aragorn Player: I thought it was fair...
    Sam Player: That's it, I'm outta here. Sam gets married, settles down, produces some kids and farms. I'm outta this group.
    Pippin & Merry Players: Don't even bother, I'm just leaving.
    GP: I agree, what a rip-off, but I like my character a lot. Can we just play in a different setting?
    Frodo Player: Hey, wait for me, I wanna come!
    DM: Fine, you take a big ship with a bunch of elves to some other land... let's call it... Forgotten Realms, and your characters will have to change their names just like the witness protection program... Gandalf, you will now be known as... Elmin-
    GP: No. Not FR. Anything but FR. And put him in charge of something, like Aragorn.
    DM: Ok, Gandalf is now head of the school of magic...
    DM: ...and is known as Prof. Dumbledore, where he-
    GP: No. I want to be at least quasi-evil so I can take people's stuff.
    DM: Ok, his new name is Raistlin, and he once fought for control of the whole of Kryn-
    GP: On second thought, I think I might DM for a while...
    Frodo Player: Thank you. Wasn't looking forward to Frodo's "translations"...
    Agifem, Auteur des Chroniques de l'Age Sombre, mordeur des titreurs négligeants, molosse modérateur du forum NeverWinter Nights 1, et Tyran Suprème du forum NeverWinter Nights 2.

    Un dernier merci à Egrevyn, mon ami, pour tout ce que tu as fait pour nous tous.

  5. #5
    Date d'inscription
    September 2004
    1 066
    15. roll again. 15. roll again. 15. roll again... ad lib...

    C'est vraiment intéressant. Je n'ai pas tout lu, mais je vais m'y mettre.
    C'est fait par qui ?
    "Tu ne tueras point. Les morts ne peuvent rien t'acheter."
    Proverbe Tolnedrain

  6. #6
    Date d'inscription
    August 2004
    dans le brouillard
    27 353
    Impossible à lire d'une traite, mais assez hilarant...
    J'aime bien la scène où le joueur qui incarne Pippin décide de chanter une chanson à Dénéthor... Très réaliste! :happy: :snif:

    Je n'ai pas tout lu jusque là, cela dit, j'ai juste choisi quatre cinq scènes au hasard...
    Lathandre est le début du plaisir
    Et Luménis c'est par ...

    En RP : Albérich Megrall & Hubert de Maleval. La bio de l'un et la bio de l'autre...
    Créateurs de tous poils, rejoignez-nous : Ecrivains, moddeurs, traducteurs, amateurs de RP, une place pour chaque plume !

  7. #7
    Date d'inscription
    November 2002
    Entre nulle part et partout.
    2 310
    Moi j'aime beaucoup les différentes scènes décrivant l'explosion du mur du Goufre de Helm. mais c'est vrai que la scène du chant de Pippin est très chouette aussi.

    Ca a été écrit par plusieurs personnes sur un forum anglophone dédié aux films et jeux de rôles.
    Agifem, Auteur des Chroniques de l'Age Sombre, mordeur des titreurs négligeants, molosse modérateur du forum NeverWinter Nights 1, et Tyran Suprème du forum NeverWinter Nights 2.

    Un dernier merci à Egrevyn, mon ami, pour tout ce que tu as fait pour nous tous.

  8. #8
    Date d'inscription
    December 2007
    Dans la Lune

    Re : [DD3] Le seigneur des anneaux

    Ah, très bon! J'ai particulièremen aimé le coup de Gandalf bastonnant Denethor, ou alors sa chute avec le Balrog... En tout cas, très bien écrit, et de grands moments de délire!
    Fiche RP de Mical, prêtre de Manost

    Tant de choses à faire, et si peu de temps...

  9. #9
    Date d'inscription
    November 2002
    Entre nulle part et partout.
    2 310

    Re : [DD3] Le seigneur des anneaux

    Dans le même genre, aussi grotesque, il y a le MJ des anneaux ( Twenty Sided Blog Archive DM of the Rings I:The Copious Backstory ). Encore une fois, en anglais, et assez long, mais que du bonheur.
    Agifem, Auteur des Chroniques de l'Age Sombre, mordeur des titreurs négligeants, molosse modérateur du forum NeverWinter Nights 1, et Tyran Suprème du forum NeverWinter Nights 2.

    Un dernier merci à Egrevyn, mon ami, pour tout ce que tu as fait pour nous tous.

  10. #10
    Date d'inscription
    February 2005
    16 581

    Re : [DD3] Le seigneur des anneaux

    Citation Envoyé par Agifem Voir le message
    Dans le même genre, aussi grotesque, il y a le MJ des anneaux ( Twenty Sided Blog Archive DM of the Rings I:The Copious Backstory ). Encore une fois, en anglais, et assez long, mais que du bonheur.
    Je suis d'accord ! Du très bon et en cours de traduction ici.
    "Eldath tellement qu'il est mort à force de Lathandre..." Taliesin.
    Envie de vous lancer en RP ? Ou encore de vous lancer comme MJ ?
    Modérateur de Luménis, Helonna et The Witcher.
    Mon rôdeur ici.

  11. #11
    Date d'inscription
    December 2007
    Dans la Lune

    Re : [DD3] Le seigneur des anneaux

    Ah, après coup d'oeil, effectivement, ca vaut le détour... J'aime particulièrement les petits commentaires en dessous de chaque planche, qui devraient figurer dans le manuel de tout bon GM.
    Fiche RP de Mical, prêtre de Manost

    Tant de choses à faire, et si peu de temps...

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