О критике.

Нет ничего более раздражающего, когда общаешься с поклонниками чего-либо, чем такая двойная ловушка.

Фанат 1: Этот момент - говно!
Фанат 2: Нет, не говно, просто ты не знаешь об этом достаточно. Может быть, следует ознакомиться с материалом, прежде чем критиковать.
Фанат 1: Ладно!
Фанат 1 исчезает на несколько недель, смотрит все серии / читает всю линейку / играет с игрушками / да что угодно.
Фанат 1: Этот элемент - говно! У меня есть ссылки и я посмотрел все серии.
Фанат 2: Чувак, если не нравится, то и не читай. Раз ты столько времени с этим возился, значит, тебе понравилось, и ты не имеешь права жаловаться.

Это ловушка ad hominem, предназначенная для удушения критики. "Или фанат не знает, о чем говорит, или знает и поэтому является идиотом. В любом случае можно спокойно игнорировать то, что он только что сказал."

соус

@темы: policy, wise words of wisdom are wise

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Устойчивость к царапинам

Перевод:
текст на объявлении: "Каждый предмет мебели обработан устойчивым к царапинам покрытием, изготовленным специально для нас экспертами из Валспар".
нацарапано на образце: "ЛОЖЬ".

@темы: fail, lol

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Deathwatch RPG, ревью

репост, переложение
оригинал

Deathwatch RPG

Во многом лучше, чем Dark Heresy, но завязла в тех же проблемах.

Что хорошо (в отличие от DH):
1. Как обыгрываетcя концепт сборной партии "kill-team".
2. Правила согласованности (командная тактика).
3. Более фокусированная цель: прибыть на точку и надавать всем в рыло.
(Примечание: это не значит, что хороши игры только про давание в рыло; это значит, что игра Deathwatch знает, о чем она.)
4. Наличие статов и шмота, достаточных для выполнения цели.

Командная тактика. У вас есть некоторое количество очков "согласованности", которые командир отряда может тратить на активацию способности до конца миссии. Есть способы получить очки по ходу миссии и случаи уменьшения числа очков. Бойцы входят и выходят из командного режима чтобы или использовать командные способности, либо способности, которые дает их собственный чаптер. Идея интересная, не добавляет много математики, способности сбалансированы между атакой и защитой.

Сеттинг и качество прозы: хорошие, как и в других ролевках по WH40k. У авторов получается сделать нечто интересное с космическими десантниками, самыми скучными персонажами сеттинга. Поскольку килл-тимы собираются из разных чаптеров, у каждого сопартийца разных подход к ведению боя, за рамками взятого класса. Реальная философия боя отражает, как разные люди формируют единый слаженный отряд, больший суммы частей, и механика соответствует этой философии. Есть причины быть в соло-режиме, есть много причин быть в групповом режиме. Вход в групповой режим не обязательно автоматический, и из него можно выпасть, отделившись от группы, или вследствие потери боевого духа от особенно пакостных атак противника, или через привлекательность индивидуальных способностей чаптера, большинство из которых не работают в отряде.

Что плохо: тупая механика DH возвращается в инкарнации "еще тупее", с навешанной на нее тучей неуклюжих хаков для отражения супермегастатов десантника, и еще одной тучей хаков, чтобы увеличить сложность до играбельного уровня.
Ваши статы получают "бонус", равный числу десятков стата. То есть, например, если ваша сила 34, то бонус — 3. Добавляете 3 дамага к атакам и проч.

Есть фичи вроде "сверхъестественной силы", или ловкости, или стойкости. Они удваивают бонус, то есть с силой 34 он составит 6, а не 3.

У десантников есть сверхъестественная сила (что понятно) И стойкость (что бред). Еще они кидают начальные статы в диапазоне 40-60, и с рейтингом их моторизованной брони, равным 12, мы смотрим на 18-20 сока (soak, уменьшение урона) с каждой атакой. Таким образом, потенциальный урон увеличен, и бой превращается в геморрой. Например, у всех болтеров есть способность "разрывание", означающая, что вы бросаете дайсы 2 раза и засчитывается больший результат. Плюс урон может взрываться для каждого дайса (подтверждение второй атаки, один бросок атаки на дайс). Почти все болтеры делают 2d10 с мелочью и имеют разрывание. Это значит, что на каждый выстрел нужно кинуть 4d10, выбрать два наибольших, и господи помоги, если дайсы взорвутся.

Это почти приемлемо для игрового процесса для одинарных выстрелов, но в полном автоматическом превращается в бред. За каждые 10 пунктов на процентнике, на которые вы превышаете предел попадания, вы попадаете еще одной пулей. Поскольку ваши статы изначально 50-70, и еще +20 дается за авто-атаку, вы попадете, и попадете на много. 5-8 ран от одной полной автоматической атаки бывает нередко даже в DH, где чары кидают статы 30-40. И для каждой пули мы смотрим на 4d10, выбрать два наибольших, и, если вымаксовывается, кинуть на взрыв. Это очень долго. Типа 15 минут на одну атаку из тяжелого болтера. В Dark Heresy можно было сэкономить, сказав "ууу, ёпта... чварк, дамаг за сотню". В Deathwatch, у всех бредовый армор и стойкость, у жирных врагов сотни хп, поэтому придется кидать это полностью.

Орды - интересная концепция: они представляют собой десятки - тысячи единиц пушечного мяса. По ним легко попать, но трудно повредить без непрерывной стрельбы, флеймеров или взрывного оружия. Они бьют "на износ", и хотя не опасны сами по себе, хорошо сочетаются с жирными тварями, разделяя внимание партии. Однако, их невозможно адекватно представить на карте (как на сетке показать окружающие вас 4000 орков?), и на самом деле они играют роль кочек на дороге или медленного износа и в итоге — ерунда.

Ракурс игры ограничен, что одновременно и плюс, и минус. Плюс - потому что десантники делают бой (если не считать кучи дайсов, которые необходимо кидать) достаточно интересным, давая возможность партии работать сообща или как независимые крутые ребята. Однако, кроме того, чтобы высадиться в зоне боя и убить все вокруг, делать-то в общем и нечего. Можно свернуть Deathwatch в существующую игру, дав игрокам возможность рулить отрядом, чтобы они могли засылать десант, когда дело пахнет керосином - это разнообразит игру. Долговременная кампания в Deathwatch не представляется особенно восхитительной.

Что выводит к следующей проблеме. Прокачка медленная - даже медленнее, чем в DH. Вы все еще получаете немного каждую сессию или через сессию, так что плюшки поступают регулярно, но уровни приходят реже, поэтому из обраниченного списка предстоит выбирать дольше. Экспу предполагается выдавать все так же - 100 xp за час игры, поэтому вымаксовывание займет 200-400 часов (после этого еще можно получать xp и улучшать персонажа, но опции закончатся). К счастью, варианты развитися сбалансированы: можно выбирать из 3 типов развития - "chapter", "class" (тактик, штурмовик, уничтожитель, врач) и "deathwatch". На каждом уровне где-то 15 фичей, но покупать нужно *много*, так что если в начале есть некислая проблема выбора, по мере роста в уровне вы возвращаетесь к тому же списку. На взгляд это некруто, как играется - не знаю, для этого нужно поиграть кампанию и понять, как это выглядит за столом.

Нет правил для создания чаптеров (скоро выпустят... бу!) и противников на уровне "deathwatch" (снова - бу!), но если у вас есть экран ГМа для Dark Heresy, можно легко генерить орды (экран для Deathwatch почти такой же): берем одну единицу пушечного мяса и меняем хп на величину орды. Если у вас есть Dark Heresy и Rogue Trader, то это куча опций для орд. А так монстров в книге немного: несколько тиранидов, Тау, жирные представители хаоса. Орки есть в Dark Heresy, эльдары, даркэльдары и прочая радость в других книгах; Некроны - единственная непредставленная фракция варгейма.

Наконец, Deathwatch плохо сочетается с двумя другими играми. Крутой боец в Dark Heresy - шутка в Deathwatch. Чары Deathwatch начинают игру на 1 уровне как эквиваленты 15000-эксповых чаров Dark Heresy, то есть полных инквизиторов и агентов трона из Ascension. В Rogue Trader это, кажется, 8-12 уровень. Шкала способностей просто на другом уровне, и хотя системы формально позволяют кросс-игры, десантники будут попеременно рвать всех и все в бою (более 90% противников из Dark Heresy не могут сделать десантнику вообще ничего) и зевать вне боя.

Все же для игры на 1 раз типа "замочить всё, что движется, а что не движется, толкнуть и замочить" Deathwatch подходит, если вы переварите хреновую механику. Если бы они отбросили философию "вдохновлена старой системой Warhammer Fantasy", была бы мегаигра про зачистку данженов в гримдарке. Написано хорошо, сеттинг занятный, вышибать мозги всем и вся - круто.

@темы: RPG, tabletop, ревью

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Антисоветская песня

Префейс, вопрос этики.
Художественные произведения имеют, как и вообще всё, исторический контекст.
Исторический контекст может перевешивать художественную ценность.
Например, нацистские марши в большинстве своем не содержат каких-либо предосудительных формулировок. Тем не менее, их исполнение не поощряется.
Свастика - традиционный индуистский символ. Ее использование вне Индии также крайне нежелательно.

Сегодняшняя песня - дважды антисоветская. Поэтому под катом.
Во-первых, она про высадку на Луну - которая, вообще говоря, событие приятное, но часто изображается как первое достижение человечества в области покорения космоса*. Что, разумеется, bullshit of the highest caliber.
Во-вторых, она была гимном польской партии "Solidarność".
Но песня хорошая.

Hope Eyrie

Worlds grow old and suns grow cold
And death we never can doubt.
Time's cold wind, wailing down the past,
Reminds us that all flesh is grass
And history's lamps blow out.

But the Eagle has landed; tell your children when.
Time won't drive us down to dust again.

Cycles turn while the far stars burn,
And people and planets age.
Life's crown passes to younger lands,
Time brushes dust of hope from his hands
And turns another page.

But the Eagle has landed; tell your children when.
Time won't drive us down to dust again.

But we who feel the weight of the wheel
When winter falls over our world
Can hope for tomorrow and raise our eyes
To a silver moon in the opened skies
And a single flag unfurled.

But the Eagle has landed; tell your children when.
Time won't drive us down to dust again.

We know well what Life can tell:
If you would not perish, then grow.
And today our fragile flesh and steel
Have laid our hands on a vaster wheel
With all of the stars to know

That the Eagle has landed; tell your children when.
Time won't drive us down to dust again.

From all who tried out of history's tide,
Salute for the team that won.
And the old Earth smiles at her children's reach,
The wave that carried us up the beach
To reach for the shining sun.

For the Eagle has landed; tell your children when.
Time won't drive us down to dust again.



*недобитые нацисты могут поискать в Гугле Яндексе "Yuri's Night NASA".

@темы: science, music

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Международный день без автомобиля

Садись в свою машину и наслаждайся городом без пробок!

@темы: lol

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Dragon Age RPG Set 2

открытый плейтест

Novice: You have learned to summon spirits. You learn the spell Group Heal. To cast it and other
spirit healer spells, you must first enter Summoning mode. This requires an activate action and
you must pass a TN 14 Magic (Spirit) test. If you fail and roll triples, you must roll on the Fuck
You Up table.

@темы: lol

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Кредиты

Спасибо,

(в хронологическом порядке)

Евгений — за то, что рассказал, что мир несколько больше расстояния от дома до школы, и за вывод формулы количества друзей, многократно подтвержденной опытом;
Ярослав — за камушки (грех), плазму (сок), странный аттрактор и подарок из города-тезки;
Ларк М. — за формирование дурного вкуса и потому что недостижимая цель лучше, чем вообще без таковой;
Пол — за то, что научил меня творить чудеса при помощи волшебной карточки;
и Вы-знаете-кто-Вы — за то, что Вы есть (хотя я в это и не совсем верю).

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And just when you thought you had escaped for good, they invented special nets to snare you. What good are magical bird powers when the enemy has magical bird nets?

We can smash everything, everywhere.

@темы: credits

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Ограбление по-...

Гражданин заявил в полицию, что пока он грабил закусочную, у него украли скейт.

@темы: fail

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L'Abbaye des Morts - игра про катаров, БЕСПЛАТНО

языки: английский, испанский
бесплатно

@темы: freeware, games

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Рекапча

@темы: лол

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Пишет Рэйчи:

«В душе нашей пламя горят сильмарилы и манит нас свет заходящей звезды»
Сквозь годы сияло нам солнце свободы
И Ленин великий нам путь озарил! ©

^ Лучшее.
Еще оттуда:

«Только в доме всё холодней,
Все сильнее-цепями...к месту...
Только небо- черней и черней...
И мечты...словно западня...»
я.т.о.ж.е. у.м.е.ю. с.т.а.в.и.т.ь. т.о.ч.к.и. я.п.о.э.т. у.р.а…………………

Кстати.
В английском языке для подобных экспрессивных целей применяется еще и тире. Обилие тире по сравнению с обилием многоточий выглядит гораздо менее безвкусно. Тире указывает на оборванную фразу или прерывистую речь, не неся при этом сопливой окраски, т.к. не подразумеваются паузы и вздохи. Пунктуация такая:
"What the flying flaming freaking—"
Используется emdash, то есть длинное тире. В его отсутствие ставится 2 горизонтальные линии: --. Пробелами отбивать не принято.
В русском языке тоже есть такое тире. Оно отбивается пробелом с левой стороны, а сразу после ставится точка (или иной знак конца предложения). В настоящее время такая пунктуация депрецирована, то есть в оформлении передачи разговора двух лиц на письме нет возможности показать, что один другого перебил, без словесного указания, вот так:

— Нет, подожди, что за ерунда? — перебил читатель.

Более того, по нормам современной русской пунктуации нет возможности оформить длинную речь в удобочитаемом виде. В английском языке каждая реплика берется в кавычки; чтобы выделить абзацы внутри речи, нужно оставить кавычку открытой:

"See, English is as simple as that.
"Plus, the rules of punctuation are not set in stone.
"You can always claim you are following some alternate rules system (Chicago, NYTimes, any of a smattering of British and Australian conventions). Just be consistent from sentence to sentence."

В русском языке реплика в диалоге начинается с тире и не закрывается. Конец абзаца - конец реплики. Начало нового абзаца без тире - слова автора. Начало нового абзаца с тире - реплика другого лица.

Поскольку человек мыслит на языке (это подтверждается опытами, в которых люди описывают события детства в свободной форме без предварительной подготовки: чем более ранние события описываются, тем беднее словарный запас; апгрейд требует активных мыслительных усилий), то неудивительно, что многие ограничения родного языка мы просто не замечаем. Но каким образом в результате развития языка сформировалась система пунктуации, не позволяющая ни долго болтать, ни перебить чужую болтовню, для меня загадка.

@темы: кстати, лол, типографика

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Online roleplaying

This day is fantastic. ED delivers:

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Online Roleplaying is an activity invented by a mixture of basement-dwellers whose skin has fused with their desk chairs and rendered them incapable of going outside to LARP and furries who can’t afford fursuits. Roleplay sites are different than most profoundly retarded internet collectives in the fact that every single roleplayer is a woman. Every roleplayer that claims to be male is a particularly homely girl pretending to have a dick for attention or a bulldyke manly enough to pass off as a dude. Strangely enough, these fake men are always inflicted with the male form of ‘girl on the internet syndrome’, parading their imaginary

WAT

cocks around and incessantly mentioning their fabricated

WAT

penis-induced sex lives. This, combined with the gargantuan amounts of weaboos, furries, basement-dwellers, self-important nobodies, teen girls, shitty artists and sexual deviants within the roleplaying community makes it one of the most terrifying and mind-scarring subcultures on the internet.

@темы: ED, rpg

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Пример ролевой игры

SJGames, Munchkin Player's Handbook

Действующие лица:

1. ДМ - ведущий игры, у которого была тяжелая неделя и он хочет поиграть с друзьями в интеллектуальную игру.
2. Игроки, друзья ДМа, которых мы коллективно назовем "Брюс".

ДМ: Вы подходите к тяжелой дубовой двери, преграждающей вам путь, на её поверхности...
Брюс: Вышибаю ее. Что там?
ДМ: ...преграждающей вам путь, на её поверхности вырезаны руны, изображающие...
Брюс: Эй, ты ваще слушаешь? Я сказал выбил! Что за ней?
ДМ [вздыхает]: получи [стук дайсов] 12 урона электричеством от тока, бегущего по рунам.
Брюс: Что за? Читерство! Ты не говорил, что на двери ловушка!
ДМ: Ну я вообще-то начал, но ты не слу...
Брюс: Надули тебя, чувак.
Брюс: Эй, Брюс, а у тя же вроде было кольцо защиты от электричества?
Брюс: Неа, я его уже загнал несколько месяцев назад, чтоб новый меч купить. Зацените, кстати!
Брюсы: СОК!!!
ДМ [чуть громче]: После того как руны гаснут, вы легко открываете дверь. В комнате за ней, настороже, после того как услышали БЗЗЗЗЗЗЗЗЗЗЗЗТ Брюса, стоят 3 человекоподобные фигуры примерно...
Брюс: Кто конкретно?
ДМ: Что?
Брюс: Кто конкретно?
ДМ: Слушай, я еще не закончил их описывать, как ты поймёшь?
Брюс: Нет, Брюс прав. Было бы гораздо быстрее, если бы ты просто сказал, что это за монстры. Тогда мы поймём, как они выглядят, насколько они толстые и можем ли мы мочить их сразу или нужно отбаффаться в коридоре.
ДМ: [открывает рот]
Брюс: Не хочет говорить. Надеюсь, это не снова его ламерские самодельные монстры.
Брюс: Похоже на то. Знаешь, он любит возиться с книгами.
Брюс: Ладно, шутки в сторону. Мы что, виноваты, что запомнили все способности монстров?
Брюс: И статы.
Брюс: Ясен перец, статы тоже.
ДМ: Эхм, ну, в общем, фигуры...
Брюс: Ты еще не сказал, что это за монстры.
ДМ: ...ростом примерно восемь футов...
Брюс: Огры, скорее всего. Он вроде прется от огров, а?
ДМ: ...с синей кожей...
Брюс: Огры-маги! Но это ж игра в "западном" стиле! Читер!
Брюс: Может быть, их высаммонили.
Брюс: Тоже верно. Снимаю коммент.
ДМ: ... С СИНЕЙ КОЖЕЙ, и один из них произносит что-то нараспев...
Брюс: ОН КАСТУЕТ!!!
Брюс: Мочу его из арбалета!
Брюс: Кидаю в него ножи!
Брюс: Ищу секретные двери!
ДМ [вздыхает]: Секретные двери?
Брюс: Ну да, ребята и без меня справятся. Если я раньше доберусь до сокровищницы, я стащу лучший лут, а они и не узнают.
ДМ: Но... ты ж файтер?
Брюс: А че, файтеры жадными не бывают?
ДМ: Но ты ж единственный файтер!
Брюс: ДМ прав. Если ты не пойдешь вперёд, отношение нанесённого и полученного дамаджа будет намного меньше.
Брюс: Ну, может, ты и прав. Какой у них челлендж рейтинг?
Брюс: 8. Фигня.
ДМ: Не будьте так уверены...
Брюс: Сказал же, самодельные.
Брюс: Вообще-то нечестно менять правила. Так игра становится дико несогласованной.
ДМ: Нет, это по правилам. Помните, у монстров могут быть уровни классов. И один из них всё ещё кастует.
Брюс: Как, я же ахнул его из арбалета!
Брюс: А я метнул ножи!
Брюс: А как же мои маг миссили?
ДМ (выдерживает паузу): Ты ж не говорил, что кастуешь...
Брюс: Стандартная процедура, когда мы встречаем монстров с маг способностями. Вот, у меня в чаршите написано.
ДМ: Что? Дай-ка гляну!
Брюс: Ээ... [шуршит бумагами] ...Наверно, на тех листах, которые я забыл в автобусе неделю назад. Я распечатаю по новой к следующей сессии.
ДМ: Лааааааааадно. Супер. Твои маг миссили ударяются в какую-то магическую преграду и исчезают. Дамаджа нет.
Брюс: Смотри. Эти челы - ЦР 9 или 10. Мы их запросто грохнем. Зачем вообще боёвку вести? Они должны понять, что они против нас лолы, и сдаться.
Брюс: Особенно после того как их главный кастер словил [кидает дайсы] 14 дамаджа в тушку от трех арбалетных болтов.
Брюс: И 6 от моего даггера.
Брюс: Только 6? Ну ты лол.
ДМ: Вы даже ещё не знаете, попали или нет!
Брюс: Да знаем уже. Я ж сказал, попал по двадцать пятому.
Брюс: Ага, я тоже.
ДМ: Ни фига! [глубоко вздыхает] Слушайте, давайте откат. Вы открываете дверь и...
Брюс: Ну вот, как не по его, так сразу "Давайте откат". Причем он уже знает, что мы будем делать.
ДМ: Да вы ж еще ниче не сделали!
Брюс: Господи, только вот орать не надо. Мы пытались что-то сделать, ты нам просто не разрешил.
Брюс: Пардон, я опоздал: в ларьке закончились сырные чипсы, пришлось мотаться в центр. Чё тут у вас?
Брюс [тычет пальцем в ДМа]: Вот этот вот снова нажал ресет, потому что мы отпинали его самодельных монстров.
Брюс: Чё, опять?
ДМ: ЛАДНО. Твой арбалет попал. Твой даггер попал. Твоя маг миссиля попала, даже если вот тут написано, что у него шилд уже скастован. Твой меч попал...
Брюс: Но я ж ещё не атаковал!
ДМ: Не перебивай меня, когда я запарываю свой собственный модуль. А ты, мальчик с чипсами, если что собрался делать, так оно тоже попало.
Брюс: Я вообще-то собирался поискать тут секретки, пока они...
Брюс: Расслабься, я уже сам пробовал, не прокатило. Он хочет, чтоб мы их замочили.
Брюс: Ну и ламерство. Терпеть ненавижу, когда меня тащат по сюжету.
Брюс: Как там, мы его грохнули?
ДМ: Да конечно. Ну нафиг. У него 47 хитов, но вы для него слишком крутые. Сдох.
Брюсы [хором]: Лутаю труп!
ДМ: Давайте инициативу, скажите мне, кто первый. [остальным] Вообще-то их ещё двое осталось, вы-то что делаете?
Брюс: Говорю, пусть бросают оружие и сдаются.
ДМ: И ты, конечно, говоришь на их языке...
Брюс: Угу. Вот, у меня в чаршите написано.
ДМ: Это надо глянуть. [смотрит] Только что вписал, что ли?
Брюс: Ага.
ДМ: И я это, конечно, разрешу, потому что...
Брюс: Я взял несколько слотов на язык, но сами языки не вписал. Решил, что определюсь по ходу действия.
ДМ [выдерживает паузу]: Знаешь, такой бесстыдный изврат над правилами заслуживает уважения. Ок. Ты знаешь их язык.
Брюс: Чё, правда?
ДМ: Да. Если ты можешь сидеть тут и внаглую делать такие заявы, я тебе мешать не стану.
Брюс: Сок. Всегда было интересно, прокатит или нет. [пауза] Ну я сказал, чтоб сдавались, и что?
Брюс: Что я на трупе-то нашёл?
ДМ: Ты [указывает на одного Брюса] убедил их сложить оружие: они, безусловно, поражены твоими познаниями в их языке. Ты [показывает на другого] нашёл, ну, Кольцо Всевластия. Оно тут всегда лежало. Просто поразительно, как иногда вершится судьба.
Брюс: О, ваще! Надеваю! Выкуси, Саурон! Что в следующем кармане?

И так далее.

@темы: rpg, archives

---

С песней по жизни

Кто в курсе - знает, что хард на два тера мне помогали вызволять очень уважаемые люди и натерпелись при этом всякого. А вот ценный плеер мы не спасли. Сегодня восстанавливал пропавшую музыку. Нарыл вот это:

This Game Is Real

Oh, I'm a computer gamer,
there's nothing I won't play,
Pac-Man, Mario, Star Trek Battles
I played them every day.
I played with speed and style,
I racked up a super score,
until the Secret Service came
and knocked down my front door.*

The stole my whole computer
and all my disks and games,
they called me a hacker cracker
and lots of weirder names
they busted me for intention
to hack all kinds of junk
but all the evidence they could find
was a game called 'Cyberpunk'.

Ref.:
Ya'gotta wonder 'bout these people
and what they think and feel,
They can't tell a game from real life
they think this game is real.

(aside:
God help us, there go the government...)

I'm a fantasy roleplaying gamer,
I play them whenever I can,
I like Dungeons and Dragons,
Runequest and Shadowland.
I played as kings and Vikings
wizards, elves and more
until a bunch of fundies came
and kicked down my front door.

They stole my dice and game books
they called it a book of spells,
they said I was conjuring demons
and things too weird to tell.
They burned my books and papers
they almost burned me too,
they really believed in magic,
they thought that stuff was true!

Ref.

(aside:
True story...
Why do you think Dungeons and Dragons
got turned to "Advanced D&D"**,
with the names changed
and the serial numbers filed off
and nothing cool left
to redeem it anymore.)

Oh, I'm a live roleplaying gamer
I used to play out in the wood
Twilight 2000 and Shadowrun
I played whenever I could.
I'd put on my costume and shoot tin cans
and make firecrackers fly
then my door got kicked down again
this time it was the FBI.

They stole my guns, my video tapes,
and every book I'd ever read,
and a couple bags of fertilizer
out of the garbage shed.
They told the press I was a terrorist
and planned to blow up half the town,
they called me a raving militia nut
and a neo-nazi clown. (aside: huh?)

Ref.

Ya'gotta wonder about these people
and just how they get by,
if they can't tell the truth from fantasy
do they even know it when they lie?


* Steve Jackson Games, the publisher of GURPS and Munchkin, was actually raided by the Secret Service.
**Gygax made Advanced D&D 1e in order to not share the profits with Arneson. True story.

@темы: RPG

---

I remember Kjellmir Bloodskull

репост

PREFACE

This is not my story. This is the story of Wasteland Warrior, as told by Wasteland Warrior himself, and I was there to hear it. The thread is also epic, having started with troll shit and resulted in 8.5 metric fucktons of concentrated awesome. If you're wondering if the awesome actually transpired, the link is here and I reiterate, it starts with troll shit so don't click if you ain't able to take it in stride.

For your convenience, I reposted the actual text of the story in this here blog, on account of WW saying,
"Brings a smile to my heart to see the story is still being passed around."

It goes like this:

---

I used to game with a bunch of chuds, mostly because the alternatives were furries or even more chuds. One day I found a group that met kind of in secret, so to avoid the chuds. I joined and we had some fun times, the DM was creative and we meshed well. We had hardcore interparty conflict but we all rollplayed pretty well. One day one of the chuds found out about our game, and the dm let him play, because he had a rule: "everyone gets at least 2 sessions before he gets the boot."

The fucker repays his kindness by rolling up a kender rogue, even though our party already had a rogue and a bard/rogue in it. He precedes to steal anything that isnt nailed down, including at one point the paladin's holy avenger. In character we threaten him and tell him if he fucks with any of our shit we will kill him. No one went through with the threat, and the paladin spent his time babysitting him and convincing the rest of the party that even though he was a pain, he was still helping us.

He assumed i had nothing of value to steal, (low magic campaign, with the exception of the paladin's badass sword and my ring the only other magic item the party possessed was the bard's flute) untill he noted that I wasn't buying rations when we were getting ready to head out, and i explained I had a magic ring that let me go without rest or sustenance.

The little prick took it off of me because he thought it would be funny to watch me get hungry, probably so he would have an excuse to steal rations and give them to me, because shit like that would be endearing or something. I have to beg my fellow party members for food and water, which sucked because the rest of the party was angry at my character for going beserk in battle and killing a friendly cleric when she tried to calm me down. Finally the little asswipe decided to wear the ring in front of me and explain how he was a master thief and how even a mighty warrior could be humbled by a lowly thief. I made good on an earlier promise and charged him (shock trooper ftw) and put the little bastard deep into the negatives. He flipped shit, but the paladin and the rest of the party was happy to be rid of him, and since he did jeopardize my life my murdering him, though an evil act, was understandable. He got really pissy about how Paladins can't adventure with evil PCs and the DM kept explaining DM caveats while the rest of the party, in character, started talking about how it was good to be rid of the vermin and started warming back up to me. In revenge he wrote up a new rogue, "just to show us." Me and the bard ended up getting the rogue lynched in the next session. It took him two more characters to get the hint.

So decides to roll up an assassin, now with my character being the exception (NE) the rest of the party was good oriented. I know how to play evil characters who aren't just "hurr durr rape time," he did not. He was using some splat book that had bipedal cheetas or something in it and had a massive dex bonus. His new character's backstory was "he was hired to kill the party" and that was about it. I didn't know this at the time. I just remember the dm and him having a conversation in whispers while the DM kept sighing. So the nest session starts with us entering the town we were traveling to. We payed for our rooms and our characters had a good meal and plenty of wine to celebrate getting out of the wastes intact, with the exception of the kender who's head i dropped off to his family when i had to make restitutions. We stumble upstairs for a good nights sleap when the new character starts rolling hide and move silent checks.

He felt betrayed by the paladin's player and me so he decided to off both of us, but not in a manly or awesome way. He wrapped the paladin's sword handle in hide and took it to my room. He tried to coup de grace me but the dm ruled since he wasn't holding the blade it would be an execution check (from the bovd) and he botched, leaing the sword in my chest but I was still alive. I woke up, grabbed the holy avenger, which burned the fuck out of my arm and left me permanently marked as evil, and tried to kill him with it. He made a run for it and I grappled with him. He was getting away so I told the DM that I was grabbing his tail. I made an attack against it and severed it near the ass. He escaped, but when the paladin woke up he alerted every temple to detain any cat people who came in with a missing tail for questioning. Sure enough me and the bard find him being held at a temple of pelor. The bard convinces the cleric to release him into our custody. We are taking him back to our cleric (who probably would have geased him or something) when the bard gets a great idea (CN actually working for us) that we were somehow more qualified to sort this out, as he tried to kill me and frame a paladin, who was generally beyond reproach.

So he writes down an epic speech for my character to read, denouncing the foul hellspawn, and telling of the wonderful accomplishments of the paladin, and how he was helping my character find redemption (which sort of happened, but once again, that's another story), even though I was clearly tainted by evil (the holy avenger turned the skin of my arm all zombie looking.) I delivered the speech, and he starts playing his flute to make my speech sound more believable. The flute allowed him to have his bardic music affect a lot more people then he normally could, and he's making them more and more attentive to what I say. When I finish the speech, the bard stops playing and asks the crowd "what do we do to murderers?"

The crowd responds with a hearty "WE HANG THEM" and they get to work. The bard strings him up and the angry crowd gets him up on a bench. I ask him if he has any last words. He goes on a tear about how we are deluded, and that his gods will make the whole world burn, starting with the paladin and his wretched friends. The paladin, unbeknown to us, heard the entire speech, and walked forward, so that the assassin could look at the man he planned to defraud. He pulled out the sword and told the assassin that if he took an oath before his blade, he would spare him. The assassin responded by spitting on the paladin in front of a crowd full of angry peasants. The paladin detects evil, then uses the sword to destroy the bench, making the assassin drop down. The dm rolled to see if he broke his neck and rolled low, so the fucker spent the next few seconds gasping for air and desperately making strength checks to break the bonds. He didn't make it and died.


The little shitstain then says something to the effect of "hah, tricked you, enjoy falling Paladin" only for the DM to say, "No, he performed a lawful execution of an evil assassin who tried to frame him for the murder of one of his best friends. The only thing miraculous that happens is you manage to void your bowels quietly enough for only half of the crowd to break out into laughter. He gets pissy because there wasn't a jury, while the Player of the paladin explains that the city was a theocracy and a council of good aligned churches ruled over, and as an agent of the church he was legally allowed to pass judgment. The assassin retorted with "you have no evidence" to which he replied "I watched you fight the man you tried to murder 12 hours ago, you were guilty" before the argument can go any further I remind the paladin that he is arguing with a dead man, and we can just ignore him. He angrily starts to scribe a new character while the rest of us move on.

So the party was in a town being besieged by orcs. My character was a NE fighter who worshipped Erythnul (my spelling is ass, so bare with me) and believed that the pursuit of power was the purest form of life, and that killing as many people in battle was the way to do it. Consequently he heard about a massive siege and decided to fight on the side of the town, because there would be more enemies to kill. I end up fighting back to back with the paladin. We are mutually impressed with each other's prowess and we spend the rest of the time teaming up, till we link up with the rest of the party and kill the orc general. Afterwards, my character does his after battle ritual of skinning the enemy and making a cloak from the remains. Whenever I killed something impressive, i made a new trophy. The Paladin detects evil and sure enough, i reek of it. He confronts me and as we get ready to draw blades a little girl comes up to my character, holds my hand and looks up to me and thanks me for saving her mommy.

So the townsfolk carried us off like heroes and there was a feast, so any hostility between us had to be held off till later. At midnight we meet up, fully healed and armed, and I tell him that he would be a foe worthy of dieing in combat against, and that if he believes that he must cause my death I would bare him no ill will, but if he wanted to fight, i would give no quarter, and not expect it to be given. He nods and draws his blade, and I heft my axe. WE fought, and be brought mt down to -3 hp. He then kicked away my axe and healed me, but he had his boot on my chest and his sword at my throat.

My character wakes, seemingly from death, to see a bleeding paladin holding a sword to his throat. He tells me that normally he would have let me die, but the fact of the matter was that I served good, even though I was slaughtering enemies pretty much for the sheer thrill of it. He asked me why I killed and we had a long moral discourse on good and evil, moral relativism and the nature of man, all at sword point. I asked him why he didn't kill me and he said he would fail as a Paladin if he couldn't find a way for me to use my power for good. I tell him that his words are meaningless, and that I will kill untill no one dares oppose me. He said that although my thirst for power had twisted me I was not beyond redemption, and he put the sword down and helped my character up. He said that by not killing me I wasn't bound to him or anything, He had just given me a second chance. I was intrigues so I asked if I could journey with him. The party agreed that they could use someone like me and welcomed me aboard.

Despite being a murder crazed death cultist, my character was an alright guy. It was in his best interest to keep his newfound friends alive as he was stronger than ever when he fought along side of them. I ended up saving the rest of the party's lives by taking a ballista bolt to the chest, dieing in the process. I was resurrected and the party kept asking me why I did it? How would i gain from it? I tried to brush it off like it was an accident or something but they cut right through the bullshit. I told them that the party felt like a family (my character had a rough childhood, raised in a sparta meets scandinavia type country) and that I wouldn't know what to do without them. We have a dawwww moment and we set out on our next quest.

A few sessions later the DM decided that conflict was the spice of life, and after a few sessions of us all being a big happy family he decided to throw a spanner in the works. I had not skinned an enemy since the orc general and I hadn't been bothering with pray to the dark gods (getting dangerously close to neutral), when out of the blue a succubus (actually a minion of the bbeg) appears, with a pissed off demon chained to a huge stone. She tells my character that she has been watching me, and her patrons are sickened that I have grown soft and weak. To demonstrate she looses the demon on me and it rips me apart, leaving me barely alive when she restrains it. She tells me that if i want to be a pathetic worm she will leave me and never return, or I can kill the demon and feast of its flesh to set myself on the path to gain ultimate power. I start to get apprehensive and she rolls a diplomacy test versus my sense motive, which was lower than a legless midget's ass. I fail horribly and the DM tells me she's making a real good point. So i do it, and start down the long road of pain and death.

The Dm takes me aside and explains that now killing will actually make my character stronger* (not just exp for kills, but if I get enough in a row, kill a hero, please the dark gods, etc etc... I will start turning into a demon.) What he doesn't tell me is that I pretty much just became a frenzied beserker, only the trigger is the dm rolling a 95+ on a d100 at the start of every combat turn)

*Initially, a strength boost, an extra attack each turn if all of my attacks hit and I gained 1 hp for every 10 points of damage i caused. More would come later in addition to the racial bonuses of demons.

ANywho, I start to relish my new powers, and I become arrogant as I start to enjoy killing again. I start becoming distanced from the party again, but we still function well together, and we are on good terms. The paladin was hit the hardest though, because he believed i had stopped the blood rituals for good and started to wonder If he did the right thing. WE get into a huge fight to protect a temple against an invading army. I get separated from the group and they start to worry, so the paladin and the sorceress, who were my biggest allies and ones who were actively trying to save me from damnation, split off from the group to find me.

Well, I find myself surrounded by the dead and dyeing enemies. I'm caught up in the bloodlust and I'm dispatching the wounded (but combat is still in effect elsewhere, so we're still in turns) and I hear a young woman calling for help. I go investigate and see the newly appointed high priestess surrounded by enemies, her bodyguard was dead and the enemy was getting ready to take their time with dispatching her. My fighter ran in and took them all on, killing them but leaving me barely alive, even with the hp gained from murder. The priestess, who was the most kindhearted and sweetest 15 year old girl I had ever encountered in game, ran up to heal me, right as the Paladin and the sorceress arrive on the scene.

My turn rolls around, and before I can say or do anything, the DM rolls the dice and we all see, even with the screen, that all the color has lost his face. He turns to me and says, "You feel the bloodlust rise, there are enemies to kill, yet you haven't the strength to fight them. The voices say that the girl will provide the sustenance for you to continue." The frenzy has taken effect and he asks for my character sheet, I say, "that won't be nescessary, I understand" and I charge the young girl. I expected to hurt her real badly, then fall to the Paladin. I power attacked her with all I had (remember, I had the shock trooper feat, so charges by my fighter were unbelievably nasty) and I rolled to hit. I rolled a 20, and we didn't bother confirming crits in our game. I then proceeded to do max damage with a great axe to what turned out to be a 3rd level cleric with a negative con modifier. I was level 14. She died horribly, and I gained a measly 2 hp for my efforts.

I'm now an evil character sitting at nearly a quarter of my health, with an effective AC of around 7 or so next to a Paladin with a holy avenger who has beaten me before when he was at full strength. He charges and, for the first time against me, smites evil. I go down to -7 and stabilize. A few rounds later combat ended for the entire party and they gather round, along with the remaining troops and the priests and priestesses. The Paladin has his avenger raised above my head getting ready to strike the death blow. The sorceress said she would prepare a pyre so none of my taint would remain to stain the earth. The rest of the army started throwing spears, bolts, shields and arrows into a pile to make the fire. The paladin then dropped his sword and used his lay on hands to heal me. Then he stood me up and savagely beat me until I was unconscious.

I'm taken before the elders of the churches, and bound and gagged. He tells them what happened and they tell him that its up to him to decide what to do with me. Half of the party (the ranger, the rogue and the sorceress) want me to be executed, so that I can't fall any further from grace and the other half (bard/rogue/lynch gang assembler, cleric and wizard) say that they should try to find out why i did it before judgement is passed. It comes down to the paladin to decide my fate. He sighs and says, "his reasons are his own, and while I may never be able to forgive him for this, I cannot forget when he gave his life to save us. Free him." I slinked off to recuperate (no cleric in the city would have touched me with their worst enemies hand and their dog's ass pushing.) While the party planned its next move. A session passed and the party bitterly tolerated my presence, with the exception of the sorceress and the paladin who tried to make me open up about how i was feeling and why I killed the girl. We entered a town to gather supplies when we ran into the aforementioned kender.

We were pursuing a baron who was raising hell trying to burn the peaceful theocratic city to the ground. We were following a lead in the town when the kender started tagging along. We reasoned that an extra stealthy character couldn't hurt and we commenced to searching, he commenced to shitdickery, which focused the anger away from the fighter and towards the kender. Eventually, a certain ring got stolen and a certain kender was reduced to wet meat on the desert sands. Then came the cat assassin and the lynching.

I spent the next couple of sessions trying to get back into the good graces with the other characters. I broke down and told them everything, about how i willingfully became an abomination and killed the priestess because I couldn't control myself. I said I hated what I had become and one day dropped to my knees in front of the party, and begged to be killed. The chud who played the kender took this opportunity to attack my character, despite the paladin telling him not to because we could talk this out, which resulted in his third dead character (male drow warlock playing at being a magicaller version of drizzt, I never read any of the drizzt novels but I'm guessing he wasn't dispatched from behind by a Paladin and a cleric.) The sorceress walked up close to my character and asked the fighter if he still thought of them as his family, and told him that no matter what he became she would always have a place in her heart for him (she was an elf who had been orphaned by war and had a childhood that made mine look like a magical tour of a chocolate and bourbon factory.) I resolved to be worthy of the group's friendship (with the exception of the chud writing up his final character, whom we largely ignored.)

At this point I feel like BFFs with my group, both in and out of character (again, with the exception of the chud, who rolled up a halfling fighter with a spiked chain built for being a tripmaster so that, and I quote "the lame ass fighter buys the farm the party will still have a tank".) I saw tears in the eyes of the girl who was playing the sorceress (but she was a theater major, so she could have been lying very convincingly, as all women seem to do...) The party sets off with new resolve, and everything turns up aces. One by one the rest of the starting party accomplishes their individual long term goals. If you don't mind i would like to mention the rest of the party so yall get some kind of idea just how cool it was that our party managed to not tear each other apart in an orgy of violence. I'll get back to the story right afterwords but they deserve their moment in the spotlight, as most of them haven't really gotten the props they deserve so far.

I honestly can;t remember much about the drow, the player was a total chud and his characters were cliches or just plain shitty.

At this point I realize just how many times I've said "chud." I apologize to any readers who are unaware of what a "c.h.u.d." is. C.H.U.D. stands for Cannibalistic humanoid under dweller, a race of hobo eating monstrosities that live in the sewers, if you haven't seen the appropriately named movie i suggest you go out and rent it. I use it because it has more bite to it then "basement dweller," and because I know a dude who lives in a basement who I wouldn't want to disparage, as he's a pretty cool guy who just happens to spend his money on his car instead of rent.

Anywho, the drow was trying to prove that his kind weren't all evil, and to prove it HE BECAME A WARLOCK, A MASTER OF THE HELLISH ARTS OF SORCERY to prove the surface worlder's wrong. He was a bag of cocks, all of them infected with aids.

First up was the cleric. He was an elven LN worshipper of Obad Hai who just wanted to protect nature, he joined up because an invading army tore down the woods he grew up in to make siege equipment. He was a swell guy who never wanted to be the center of attention. That's not to say that he hid in the corner, he just thought that if his cleric did what was right by Obad Hai then no one would be sure he had done anything at all.

The rogue (the good one, not the shitty kender) was a CG dorf. He played like he was straight out of boatmurdered and had crazy fears about carp and elephants. He was generally jolly except for when he encountered some freakish aberration that could only exist on the surface world (birds freaked him the fuck out, as did sheep and sunflowers.) He would spontaneously tell a bunch of really off color jokes just one ofter the other untill we were all laughing our asses off, then he would roll to do something sneaky while we were distracted.

Our half orc ranger was NG i think, and he played the dude like robin hood, only instead of robbing the rich he hunted bandits down. Kind of a moralfag but in a good way. Had an epic moment when the party was arguing how to get into a well defended fort and he just burnt the fucker down with some well placed flaming arrows.

The human wizard was CG, i think, and played the dude like a stage magician, only instead of pulling bunnies out of hats he would incinerate orcs and shit. He named his character "Leon" and kept parroting "Behold the GREAT LEON!!!" like leon form starfox 64. He was a riot, and despite his bombastic nature was real level headed and ended up being a great decision maker. If the rest of the party missed a super subtle hint he would pick up on it like a magnet.

The Bard was CN at its finest. The dude wasn't LOL randumb, he was hilarious. He actually played the flute and he actually wrote his own bard songs. He told us which one he was going to play and played them out during combat and just used hand gesture to signal where he was going to move and shit. He was the one who ended up lynching the chud's second character.

The sorceress was an elf and NG or CG, i never foud out exactly, but she played her character kind of like a Paladin, only without the strict moral code. She always tried to talk things out and took a bunch on nonlethal spells. Her character was an orphan raised by clerics of sune or something and she was adventuring because she wanted to make the world a better place. She sent back something like 90% of her loot to the orphanage she grew up in and ended up passing on a chance to marry some high and mighty elven prince because it would cut into her "crusading for good" time.

My character was the fighter yall have been reading about, i think enough has been said of him. But I know some of my friend's who I gamed with are out there so I'll remind them of Old Kjellmir Bloodskull, the man who proved NE can sometimes stand for Niceguy Evil.

Finally we get to the Paladin. The dude was Optimus Prime in Half Elven form. He set out to avenge his mother's murder and ended up saving the world. He was the defacto leader of our merry band and their wasn't a single sol at that table who would have wanted it otherwise (except the chud, but he was a soulless abomination, so he doesn't really count)

Anywho, back to the story.

We end up busting a cult that was trying to summon a demon. The cult leader spills his guts in exchange for mercy (which the paladin gave, of course.) A powerful demon has been behind the scenes the whole time, and he has built a permanent stable portal the underworld in the bottom of an abandoned dwarf city. We set out to stop his demonic army from breaching into our world and killing everything. The party fights dearly, losing the ranger and the wizard along the way. The rogue runs to warn the nearby city that if we fail they must be ready to repel a demonic horde and bard is nearly killed, but refuses healing because he says all he can do know is watch the battle and wrote a song for the fallen (dude got poisoned bad by a demon assassin and couldn't do any real damage. It came down to me, the paladin, the cleric and the sorceress staring down the Demon Lord and his elite bodyguard.

The battle is long and hard, but in the end the demon is badly wounded and out of men, and we've pushed them back through the portal into their home turf. I have a handful of hitpoints, as does the paladin and the sorceress. The only spells left were 2 heals from the cleric, who was saving them for the endgame. The demon is on its home plane, and if it dies here, it dies forever, so it is scared as hell. It starts begging to be sparred, and how it will never rise against the paladin again (sense motive proved it was full of shit.) The paladin moves in for the kill, I follow him, when the DM takes me aside. He tells me that the demon locks eyes with me and I hear a voice in my head saying that he will give me all of his power if I will use it to strike down the Paladin.

Once again the lure of power comes calling back to me. The succubus from earlier whispers in my ear that with all of that power I would command legions of demons, and I could make the world burn. Even though the demons were defeated today, they have an eternity to plot their vengeance, they will only have to wait untill the time is right. I told the demon I would gladly take his power, and the paladin would fall at my feet.

We used miniatures so combat would run smoothly, mostly reaper but I'm a gwfag, so I was using a plastic warrior of chaos. The dm gave me my new and improved character sheet (he planned this at the beginning of the session before that, and snagged a copy of my character sheet) and I said that my model wasn't going to cut it, so i went to my car and grabbed my demon prince (it was the 40k one, but it had the wings and the cables were barely noticable, so it all worked out fairly well, as it dwarfed the paladin's reaper mini.)

I called out to the Paladin, and I told him that today i would repay him for the insult he dealt me long ago in that small village surrounded by orcs. I said that I would wash my axe with the blood of the innocent and that I would end all that he had grown to love. A deathly silence fell over the table...

To say the fight was epic would be an understatement. The cleric healed up the paladin and the sorceress fell to her knees and wept, as her closest companion just became an avatar of pain and suffering and planned to loose himself on the world she had given up so much to protect. The Paladin said something to the effect of "It pains me deeply to see you do this to yourself, I will mourn for you" and then he charged me. He knew I was deadly on the charge so he acted to deny me my greatest strength. Despite being a third of my height and being outmatched he managed to keep me on the defensive, and he got me down to about a third of my hit points, while only losing about a quarter of his.

The Paladin fought with the strength of his ancestors, all the angels above looked down on their chosen so and smiled as the abomination staggered under the weight of his blows. His righteous fury ripped chunks of the blackened armor off the demon and spilled the black ichor that sustained him on the floor. He drew back behind his shield and offered me one last chance to surrender, to account for what I had done. He wanted to see if there was still any good left in the thing that had utterly consumed his friend and twisted it into this foul monstrosity.

OMG!!!! HERE COMES TEH AUNTIE AND UNCLE PART!!! IT?S ALWAYS TEH BESTEST PART =D

OMG!!!! HERE COMES TEH AUNTIE AND UNCLE PART!!! IT?S ALWAYS TEH BESTEST PART =D

The demon unfurled its wings and took to the sky, the paladin looked up hopelessly as the demon gained altitude before diving down with his axe. The impact was so strong that a cloud of dust formed around the combatants. Finally the dust cleared. The Paladin had fallen, the axe was lodged deep in his chest. He looked up at the demon and mouthed the word "why" before everything faded to black.

The demons who witnessed the fight began a mighty roar, praising their new master. The cleric began to charge the demon in a fatal act of defiance, and the sorceress fell to her knees. The cleric rained ineffective blows onto the walking sin against nature that just cast down the greatest hero of an age as if he were nothing. The demon grabbed his shoulder, slapped the make out of his hand and calmly said "the paladin still draws breath, you should tend to him."

I killed the demon, without its power it could do nothing. It wanted to know why I didn't finish the paladin, and I replied "you asked me to defeat him, and I did, our bargain is finished, I have no more use for you." I led the rest of the party out of the portal, and sealed it behind me. The bard had a few healing spells left and he got the paladin back and moving. Before he could say anything, I told him that in the end I was powerless to resist so much power, and in the end evil triumphed and I still could not remain strong in the face of temptation. He had taught me how to control that power though, and now I had achieved immortality on my own terms. He smiled and thanked me for sacrificing my humanity to help him. My character went into semi retirement, he dwells in the ruined city but the paladin made an amulet that lets him summon the demon should he ever need his power. I don't often play with that group anymore, but whenever i am in the area and they are gaming I stop in to play the demon for a session or two.

CODA

CODA

So the elf and the paladin keep their characters, and the rest of the party rolled new ones. The bard spent the rest of his life telling the story of how the mighty paladin killed the demon, and how his good friend stayed behind on the other side of the gate to hold off the enemy. The dwarf had enough of the surface world and set up a pawn shop in the underworks of a large city. The cleric planted a forest with the remains of the woods he grew up in right next to the old ruins and visited the demon occaisionally.

The paladin lost his sword, and since he swore an oath when he became a paladin to never lose the holy sword of legends (not actual name but you get the drift) he fell. The demon bought his soul and gave him blackguard powers (by possessing him) which he used to reclaim his sword. Do to the wierd temporal anomaly of a possessed psuedo blackguard reclaiming his paladin powers he was brought up to the celestial planes, along with the demon, to answer for what he had done. The hard line celestials believed that i was an abomination and the paladin had damned himself by consorting with me (they were unable to scry what happened in hell, so they didn't get the whole picture) and the paladin ended up having to prove his story by tracking down the ranger and the wizard from their respective planes. In the meantime I was kept under constant watch by the celestial s because they needed me for the trial. I asked to see the priestess whom I murdered, so I could beg for forgiveness. She forgave me and at the conclusion of the trial I was allowed to occasionally stay in the celestial planes provided I served the forces of good and at all times i was supervised by the priestess. Pretty sweet deal for a killhappy monster.

BACKSTORY

BACKSTORY

Alrighty, so I was invited into what was pretty much the only game in town, and I rolled up a badass fighter. Named him Kjellmir Bloodskull, the slayer of men and the augmenter of sorrow. He was your basic shock trooper build, a glass cannon who focused on great cleaving his way through piles of enemies. Anywho, he was part of a campaign where dmpc faggotry was rampant and " broken characters died fast" my first character was a barbarian who was killed for the crime of having his minimum damage while raging and power attacking one hitting goblins, the very same goblins who had a +17 to hit while the party was at level 8.

I managed to miss out on the worst of it, but i ended up getting gutted by a level 20 assassin who dual wielded katanas that did d6 strength damage per turn. I found out that the 3 months i was playing were the only parts of the campaign any of the players considered not shitty.

My problem was I wrote up a great character who was fun to play, the only problem was that I was going to school during the fall so i was away from my regular group, which broke up in my absence and has yet to say a thing to each other since last January.

So i go to the local gaming group at the college, which is fucking chud city. There is a call of cthulu game that descended into slapstick bufoonery, a shadowrun game which from what i saw, consisted of 97% planning and 3% bathroom breaks and a 3.5 gestalt game wherein the characters are practically invincible. I join one of the smaller games of 3.5 dnd ( i was warey of 4th ed at the time, and while I do enjoy parts of it, Fighters the like of Kjellmir simply can't be made with the current rules) and I find my first group consists of 4 furries and an asspie with rape fantasies. I quickly move on to another group, where I am the only non wizard in the group, and it turned out to be a bunch of the scrawniest motherfuckers you've ever seen going on a brains over brawn masturbatory power trip via dnd. Finally i end up in an anything goes game, where I shelve Kjellmir for another time. Its pretty much rifts, only with d20, and the party consists of an Enclave soldier (me) a half dragon cleric of tiamat who plays the entire family at one and a girl who wanted to play as a digimon. We are joined by a guy who's sole motivation in any game is to "kill shit and drink ale" and some dude with adhd so bad a bullet to the brain wouldn't slow him down. Needless to say I decided to spend my free time drinking heavily so i would be too hungover to game.

chud's new character died in the beginning of the assault on the undercity. He got killed by being bullrushed off a bridge that was a good 150 feet in the air. He splattered and got pissed, and started rolling a new character. We told him that we would be meeting in a different place next week then we started playing at the dude's apartment, somehow we forget to tell him about it. Next time there is a bad roleplayer thread and I'm online I'll tell yall more about him.

Goodnight.

@темы: RPG, awesome, archive

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"Ты можешь жить вскользь, ты можешь жить влет..."

агитко

1. Научный метод 101
«Научность» — это возможность предсказывать результат с некоторой точностью. Научный метод имеет три составляющие: сбор статистики, выявление закономерностей, собственно предсказание. Разделение «интроверт-экстраверт» научно: условно, мы можем подвесить на челюсть студента датчик и смотреть, какую часть своего времени и в какой ситуации он говорит, какую — слушает с открытым ртом, а какую — просто ест. Так в характеристике появляется строка «в коллективе является неформальным лидером» (потому что при смыкании информационных пространств строка «в коллективе является ведомым членом» - или как это пишут, я никогда не видел такой формулировки — может серьезно испортить человеку жизнь).
Пример.
Сбор статистики: вешаем на жертву датчик. Выявление закономерностей: считаем цифры — 86% времени пишет агитки, пользуясь чужими мыслями, 14% времени пишет «в стол». Предсказание: интроверт, спамер, 78% вероятности накатать бред и запостить в чужом блоге, 7% шанс получить бан, 93% шанс быть съеденным.

2. «...а этот, мол — так, ни то и ни се»
Из столкновения с соционикой пару лет назад я знаю, что там 16 групп по именам персонажей масскульта, которые призваны описывать личность комплексно, причем никакая статистика не набивается. Одна группа объединяет несколько характеристик.
Если группы не взаимоисключающие (т.е. допустимо «я наполовину Соник, наполовину Пикачу»), то классификация бессмысленна:
«Я гибрид по крайней мере пяти из восьми типов, что верно и для всех моих знакомых. Это не описательный тип, а атрибут. Ты утверждаешь, что сочетанием этих групп можешь описать кого угодно. Так это и я могу — перечислить все прилагательные языка и сказать, что описал все человечество.» --Каэлик
Если имеем 16 взаимоисключающих типов, то они должны описываться взаимоисключающими характеристиками (варианты типа «любит командовать людьми vs любит выполнять приказы», или «этика vs логика», или модный игродизайнерский бред «нравятся персонажи vs нравится сюжет vs нравится выигрывать» недопустимы — они не просто невзаимоисключающие, а имеют положительную корреляцию). Допустим, мы нашли такие характеристики. Тогда решетка из 16 элементов представляет собой либо двумерный массив 4х4 (две характеристики 4 степеней выраженности, (-2 -1 1 2)х(-2 -1 1 2), или 4-мерный массив 2х2х2х2, (-1 1)х(-1 1)х(-1 1)х(-1 1), 4 характеристики двух степеней выраженности).
Извините, пожалуйста. Двумерный массив 3х3 — это «элайнмент» настольной ролевки Dungeons & Dragons, при этом элайнмент «научнее», поскольку имеет середину, означающую статистическую невыраженность признака (-1 0 1 лучше, чем -2 -1 1 2). Две степени выраженности (-1 1, «или с нами, или против нас») еще хуже, потому что социально опасны, за примерами далеко ходить не надо.
Вывод: «соционика», в любом ее виде, проигрывает элайнменту D&D. Ниже некуда.

3. Вы проиграли, или Он меня сосчитал!
Ладно, а как шутка — сойдет?
В интернете есть такое развлекалово, называется «The Game». Суть такова: все играют в Игру (так, с большой буквы), если ты о ней подумал, то проиграл, и должен объявить это окружающим.
Так вот. На одном из научно-популярных форумов, посещаемом небольшим числом хорошо знающих друг друга завсегдатаев, объединенных общими интересами, общими проектами, при полном отсутствии троллей админ задал вопрос про Игру. Обсуждение пришлось удалить, потому что столько помоев не выливалось никогда за 8 лет существования форума.
Это напоминает советский мультик «про кого-то там, кто умел считать». Кстати сказать, даже на подсчет люди могут обидеться: многим захочется быть первым и мало кому — шестым. Только цифры — объективная реальность, сколько ни пиши 5.1 вместо 6 или 14 вместо 13, а категории, не подкрепленные фактически набитой статистикой — условность.
«Для некоторых это просто забавное развлечение, охватывающее идею мета-игр и объединяющее людей, разделяющих общее малораспространенное знание. Для других это патентованно бредовая идея без какого-либо смысла и содержания.
А кто-то активно негодует, когда им говорят, что они «играют» в игру без их собственного на то согласия. Они чувствуют себя оскорбленными в некотором фундаментальном смысле.»
А еще некоторые люди начинают искать в шутках правду, и на полном серьезе вещают, что в космос надо летать только с тем человеком, кто, слыша слово «елка», представляет себе новогоднюю елку, и вообще — брать на работу тех, кто подходит по знаку зодиака, а не по квалификации. И это уже практикуется на объектах от крупнейших банков до атомных станций. Чесслово.

«Слова имеют власть. Не сомневайтесь в этом.» --ДММ

Референции:
1. Каэлик 1 2 3
2. ДММ 1

@темы: статистика