Thursday, November 20, 2008

Ode to Roleplaying Games

I love table top RPGs. I don't get to play them like I'd like- being a semi-responsible bachelor adult with bills and such - but they sure are a lot of fun, and tend to leave lasting memorys. I've played with the same game group now for about 5 or 6 years (has it really been that long?) and we've gone through the gamut and back again. I guess I'm thinking about it because tonight I'm working on the second adventure for my new Shadowrun Campaign.

Dungeons and Dragons (3, 3.5 and 4th Edition) Warhammer Fantasy RPG, Dark Heresy (Warhammer 40k RPG), Shadowrun 3rd Editon (which I spent way too much money on) and 4th Edition (which I will probably again, spend way too much money on), a couple sessions of Paranoia, three to five aborted attempts at Star Wars (D20 and then Saga), and lots, and lots of free form.

And we remember the crazyness. The time Devin O'Connor got to use AP rounds for the first time and killed the pilot of an assault chopper with a single burst. (I remeber T's look the best, as he looked mildly perturbed that I'd just killed his engine of destruction)

Guk, carrying my shot up ass out of the fire more then a few times, and the day he almost killed us by trying to blow open a door with waaaaaay too much C4 because O'Connor was unconcious.

The first time one of the Jedi in the party used the force in anger, and on purpose, smashing a guys head flat against the floor and killing him.

Drowning in a pool of my own blood, and leaving behind two orphans.

Watching Dash McBragg die. (I still need a t-shirt for that)

Going to bed at night dreaming up new ways to kill Junie Takahara.

Framing P's character for things I was doing in Paranoia.

Being there when Guk killed a guy through a weapons slit at about fifty yards with a fracking machine gun.

Watching Guk get beat up that first time by a wimpy little Dwarf who refused to carry a god damned gun.

Finding that Dwarf's corpse sometime later in the same campaign and selling his cyberware for profit.

Killing Skeletons with a magical sword of healing.

Knowing that if there are 5 doors in a hallway, my party will have to open every one, even if 4 of them contain death destruction and pestilence. Its our curse.

Listening to the Dragonborn complain when the party refuses to retreat from a fight he caused. (We don't, ever, retreat. We're like Space Marines that way....)

Getting killed by what amounted to a giant wild boor, after my perfect shot with my massive handgun *BOUNCED* off its head.

Getting turned into a giant pile of ash after spending mind numbing amounts of time doing character building and surviving the unsurvivable. I still gets pissed at the way Ivan died....

Telling the party that I was a "Merchant and a Locksmith" with my WHFRPG theif, and getting them to believe me... at least until I bedheaded sum dood with a lucky critical that saved my ass.

Getting my brother to play too for the first time, even if he decided his name was "MacGuyver"

And many, many more.

It makes for a great time, and fun memorys with friends. I recommend it to everyone who's ever been even vaguely interested. Plus, its something you can do with kids from a fairly young age. Should I ever happen to reproduce, my kids will be getting a set of dice about the time they can read.

Its all downhill from there ;)



Sean said...

One of the things I miss most is RPG's - I still have a great collection of books, still paint miniatures, and even work on the "campaign that will never happen" when I have the urge.

Unfortunately, given family time, work schedule, and little luck in finding gamers around here I'm pretty much hosed for now... but maybe someday.

Gothelittle Rose said...

Nothing like playing Paranoia with family. I know I've recounted stories from it before. :)

When Steve's character used telekinesis to drop a grenade off Bernie's character's belt in the stairwell, and all the other guys responded by piling down the stairs as fast as they could, Bernie responded by trying to kick it through the open door... crit miss on the forward kick, crit success on the backswing, and he heel-tapped it, yes, down the stairs.

Not that it mattered, as my father the DM had chosen to equip him with a set of grenades with a blast radius far further than you could ever throw it...

But I could take that moment with him heel-bumping the grenade down the stairs where everyone was racing at top speed, and picture that moment as done in the style of Paranoia book illustrations.

Just one of many, and the quickest to describe/explain!

The Old Man said...

Didn't do many pen-and-papers, but my finest hour as DM was when the party stepped into a room and a portcullis slammed shut behind them as all of the torches and visibility spells extinguished. A smell of hot machine oil was in the air. As the party re-ignited the visibility aids, a Panzerkampfwagen IV turret was seen to be swiveling in their direction, with the coaxial MG42.

The portcullis was balsa. (My players knew there was always a way to survive, if you weren't stupid.) In this case, it was just a headgame.
Those were the days, my friends.