New Hero

Quotes from Owlcon - part I
 
Pulp Hero "The Fiendish Plan of Dr. Mephisto"
 
The Sentinels of Justice investigated the mysterious disappearance of a skyscraper.
 
GM: Theron
Dirk Morgan: a newspaper editor
Huan Ju Morgan: Dirk's Chinese adopted sister, a martial artist
Dr. Diogenes Sinclair: a jungle doctor
"Pat" Garrett: an Arizona cowgirl
Jeremiah "Sparks" McGee: a mad scientist
Eugene Bullard: a black American fighter pilot who fought in French Foreign Legion during the Great War
The Amazing Bosco Patterson: an acrobat and brawler
 
A 27 story skyscraper was under construction. Then it disappeared. All that remained was the foundation.
Dirk: "I could have sworn that I parked it right here."
 
Elmo, a homeless man, was the only witness.
Bosco: (to Elmo) "There's a drink in it for you."
Elmo: (slurring) "I don't touch the stuff."
Bosco: "You don't touch it ... but you will drink it."
 
The Sentinels of Justice were attacked by a group of mooks.
Huan Ju: (catching a mook's fist in her hand) "Denied."
 
Pat tried to climb a fire escape to reach a gunman. The fire escape wouldn't lower, which left her hanging from the bottom rung.
Pat: "Could you give me a boost?"
Sparks threw his wrench at the mechanism, freeing it and allowing the fire escape to deploy.
Sparks: "I used my science."
 
The Sentinels of Justice tracked Dr. Mephisto down to his dirigible. While Eugene flew the plane, the rest parachuted onto the top of the dirigible, then climbed down through the superstructure. When they were attacked by mooks, Pat lassoed one of them and pulled him so he was dangling by one leg.
Dr. Sinclair: Piñata time.
 
While the rest of the team climbed down through the superstructure, Eugene discovered that the dirigible had a "trapeze": a mechanism which allowed it to deploy and retrieve a small fighter plane. The Sentinels' seaplane had a hook, allowing it to make use of the trapeze. Even though the seaplane was too large for this trapeze, Eugene managed to catch the seaplane's hook on the trapeze, wedge the seaplane up into the dirigible's hangar, climb out of the seaplane, fight off two mooks and sneak onto the dirigible.
 
Eugene coincidentally entered the dirigible just as the rest of the group climbed down out of the superstructure.
Dr. Sinclair: (to Eugene) "It took you long enough."
Eugene: "I had a hard time finding a place to park."
Bosco: "Parking is hell in New York."
Eugene: "I nearly got towed."

The Further Adventures of Slaanesh's Lonely Hearts Club Warband - but first some discussion the Warhammer 40K mythology, and in particular the various incredibly bone-headed decisions by the Emperor of Mankind that made the Horus Heresy inevitable. Things like abducting Angron from the side of the slave army he had lead to a final stand against their oppressors, and not explaining to Magnus why the Warp was so dangerous, and not telling Horus that he was returning to Terra to oversee the creation of an interstellar Webway. All stuff to be filed under 'Tragedies that could be averted with a five-minute conversation'

    Rold Dundee OOC: We need a big poster of the civil war, with the caption 'This is why you should talk to your children'



Cassius, on why he has turned his back on the the Imperium of Man.

    Cassius OOC: I like the people, I just hate the government.... Oh god, I'm playing Lenin.
    GM: I assume you mean the Russian, not John.



Briefing Cassius on the events of the previous session, such as giving Garath the Tyrant's Cord

    Jrska: And he didn't try anything, and give us an excuse to kill him for his treachery!
    Cassius: *sarcastically* Gosh, I wonder how he became so influential.
    Cog OOC: 'I'm the nice kind of evil - I'll only stab you in the face.'



The New Mutant Army, while sizeable, is still grossly insufficient to crew a starship.

    Aladar van Rijn: We could just let them breed.
    Cog: That might take a while.
    Cassius: And it depends on them being compatible.
    Jrska: *perks up* My lord, I will make it a priority to check their anatomy.
    Cassius: Why am I not surprised.



Among Jrska's purchases - make-up, beauty product, fabric, sewing tools, etc, but not just for herself. After all, they ARE going to a party.

    Jrska: I look good in anything, but YOU three...



Cassius wants to acquire a cadre of minor psykers - to expand his repertoire of powers. His player misses the roll by 1.

    Shopkeeper: If only you'd been here five minutes earlier!
    GM: I'll let you have them but I'll keep it as a plot point that...
    Cog: Something is off about them.
    Cassius OOC: That's ominous.



Sadly, the GM disallows one of the many abuses of the Black Crusade rules - a harpoon gun with a 100-round ammo belt.

    Rold Dundee OOC: Four hundred rounds to reload.
    Jrska OOC: To nip down to Bunnings for a new roll of fence palings.



The Khornate mercs that deliver the New Mutant Army to the Chains of Judgement do have... interesting... news to impart. Apparently, one of our tech-adepts redirected their shuttle to another part of the ship. This is news to us, since we thought we'd already killed all the tech-adepts on board. Naturally, we play innocent, and hurry off to interrogate the nameless navigator about what has been happening in our absence. Apparently 'Father' has awoken. And Father is the ship's chief engineer, and he's currently converting Mother's cannibal tribe into servitors, while the various tech-adepts cybernetically slaved to his will attempt to repair the ship. Our delivery of 6000 mutants was promptly commandeered.

    Jrska: Yoohoo honey, we're home.

    Nameless Navigator: Rest assured they're being put to good use.
    Cog: What's this green stuff we're eating?

    GM: The navigator quite old and covered with feathers
    Rold Dundee OOC: He got into a pillowfight earlier.



Cog protests that he should be the one running the ship.

    Surviving Cannibal: I feel sorry for you
    Cog: Wait until you see my bill.
    Surviving Cannibal: Wait until Father finds out you want his job.

    Cog OOC: Hungry Hungry Hippos in Space
    Cassius OOC: I'm glad they haven't made THAT game into a movie.

    Cassius: I going to kill Father.
    Jrska: Or negotiate a peaceful compromise?
    Cassius: I plan to have a pointed conversation. With lots of punctuation.
    Jrska: In his torso? oh, sorry, that would be punctures.



Finding some of the converted cannibals attempting to repair warp-damage to some of the corridors, where the original crew were fused into the metal. Hacking into their brainchips allows us to find the safe route to Father, although bluffing our way past the heavily armed security servitors does prove necessary.

    Cassius: I'm not annoyed yet.
    Jrska: Well, technically we haven't lost any crew this way
    Cassius: That's why I'm not annoyed

    Jrska: Trying to sand somebody's face off the floor panelling, are they?

    Rold Dundee OOC: I love that we're getting our map from the Roombas.
    Cog OOC: I've never been electrocuted by a Roomba... Apart from that one time

    Jrska: You wanted a plasma cannon, didn't you?
    Cog: Not to the face!

    Jrska: We can always use Aladar as a distraction. His outfit is bound to confuse their optical sensors.



The Enginseer 'Father' is eventually convinced that Cassius is an acceptable Shipmaster, although he's suspicious enough to radio off a message to the nearest Inquisitorial outpost. Given that it's lightyears away, we're not overly concerned. 'Father' is also suspicious about having a mutant crew, and Jrska's presence on board, but Jrska convinces him that its all for purposes of disguise on mutant-held planets. Cassius claims that Cog will act as liaison between the mechanical and organic components of the ship, and Cog assures the Enginseer that Jrska is the ship's new seneschal and spiritual advisor.

    Jrska: Spiritual Advisor. I like that - I'll have to have that put on my door.



Along with Morale Officer and Chief Medical Officer.

    Cassius OOC : 'Turn your head and cough'



'Father' invades Jrska's personal space - like she cares - and spits out reams of dot-matrix printout. It's mostly a list of everything on the ship that needs repairing.

    GM: There's also a priority order of depilatory cream for the seneschal.
    Jrska:
    Cog: But when the fur grows back she'll be itchy and take it out on everyone.



And off to the Ragged Helix. Jrska assigns rooms and assistants to everybody. Cassius gets the most professional. Rold gets a few likely security types, but Jrska is careful to avoid anybody that could be the nucleus of a Khornate warrior lodge. She, of course, picks her own.

    Jrska: Interesting skin texture you have there. Are you like that all over? OK, you, you, that cute one hiding down the back, and Mister Tripod there.
    Aladar: Hey! What about me? Do I get cute ones too?
    Jrska: Nope. You do get the most sycophantic though.



And, of course, Jrska keeps her promise to Aladar, about showing him how grateful she is - turning up at his stateroom with a nice romantic meal and chilled bottle of amasec. For starters. She rapidly guilt trips him into accepting her advances, although her new prosthetic Pheromone Emitters certainly help, especially in a confined space.

    Jrska: Is it because I'm a mutant? *puppydog eyes* It's OK, we can do it with the lights off.



Aladar soon succumbs. Leaving him passed out, Jrska strolls off whistling a happy tune, and turns to her attendant servo-skull, Partybot 2000. The one with all the night vision cameras.

    Jrska: Did you get all that?



Minutes later her next target, Cog, is more resistant to her charms, despite a different ploy.

    Jrska: As chief medical officer it's my duty to know all about your anatomy. I know you cogboys are a bit sensitive about your meat-flesh, but I promise I won't tell anybody. Cross my heart *crosses the wrong side of her chest*



Then there's the problem of the surviving cannibals, who gave their fealty to Cassius and are somewhat aggrieved that he wasn't around to protect them when Father woke up. He solves this problem with admirable callousness, telling them there's plentiful food in the cyberconversion labs, and to go line up outside. A few more acts of treachery like this and the Chaos Gods may well reward him with his first mutation. Morphic resonance and his power armour's history being what they are, that first mutation will likely be wings. Appropriate, given his Storm Crow origins and Extinction's Angel title whenever Jrska introduces him.

    Jrska OOC: Sire? You appear to be growing feathers.
    Cassius OOC: POMF! Wingboner!

    Aladar: I'm bored
    Jrska: *leers* I can fix that.
    Cassius OOC: I bet you can.
    Jrska: It's my duty as morale officer. Please ignore any noises you here coming for Captain Aladar's room. I was going to work slowly, but if he's bored and we have five weeks... I'm sure I can have him in a gimp suit with his face between my thighs before then.



Rold finds a broken space marine power sword in the corridor outside his quarters. Despite the repercussions of the last time he picked up a strange sword, he picks this up too. He doesn't bother telling anybody about the discovery, either.

    Cassius OOC: 'I picked it up to see if anything bad would happen'. There's a quote for you.
    Jrska OOC: And epitaph, probably.
    Rold Dundee OOC: I've got as many Slaaneshi advances as Khornate.
    Jrska OOC: Makes sense. Poor impulse control is a feature of both.



At the Ragged Helix, we are challenged by a pirate vessal Aladar recognises - it was one of many that used to harass his fleet.

    Aladar: Don't you remember me?
    Pirate Captain: Remember you? Why would I remember the wart on some Nurglite's arse?
    Jrska: Nice one, I'll have to remember that. May I address them?
    Cog: Did you just say address or undress?
    Jrska: *shrugs* Both work for me
    Cassius OOC: A little from column A, a little from Column B.



The pirate is clearly shocked when Jrska sticks her head in front of the holocamera, and nervously escorts us to Prince Pseudanor's domain in the depths of the asteroid belt - a lavish and well-armed palace.

    Jrska: Let's walk in like we own the place

    Jrska: May I advise you, Lord? Aloofness is entirely appropriate for you here. Just pretend that nothing here impresses you.
    Cassius: That will not be difficult



Cassius is also unimpressed by the assorted debris from previous evening's debauch.

    Cassius: Shows a lack of discipline
    Jrska: Oh, I'm all about discipline. Isn't that right Aladar, darling?
    Cassius' player: You're enjoying this far too much.
    Me: Yes, yes I am.



But the palace IS the most lavish Jrska has seen outside the Inner Vortex and the demonworld Pandemonium, where she grew up.

    Jrska: Also known as the Party Planet. For lightyears around you can hear the DOOF DOOF DOOF.



The Slaaneshi pirate's court is swarming with a throng of libertines, freaks, and even a few demons, none of whom seem impressed by the frankly scruffy warband that just arrived in a wreck of a ship. But we do find out why Pseudanor sent those mercs after Jrska, demanding she attend his court. Since it's her beloved twin brother under a new name.

    Jrska: *squees like a schoolgirl and rushes forward, until she's blocked by his bodyguards.*
    Me: (to GM) You're just blocking me so I won't squick you with my intended greeting, aren't you?
    GM: Yes.

    Aladar: Holy crap, did that guy just eat a bicycle?
    Jrska: Don't worry sweety, you'll see a lot worse than that around here. Or better.

    Jrska: Hey cutie. Ever done it with someone that can lick their own eyebrows?
    Bodyguard: Yes.
    Jrska: Great! You know what to expect. I'll see you upstairs in 30 minutes - bring some friends.



Turns out Pseudanor is a bit upset with Jrska - mostly the way she went missing for 200 years and never sent any postcards. Also turning up again with such disreputably Khornate-leaning individuals like Rold is a bad sign. He intends to test her, and her associates, to see if she is still worthy of his support. Naturally, there will be six tests - six being the number of Slaanesh - based around Greed, Gluttony, Carnality, etc.

    Pseudanor: I am not convinced you are the person you were, sister.
    Jrska: Five minutes alone and I'll prove it.
    Pseudanor: That is just ONE of the tests.

    Cassius: Six Sins?
    Pseudanor: Six Delights.
    Cassius: Six Delights, then. If you betray us, you will taste the seventh - Wrath.



Jrska volunteers Aladar for the first test. After all -

    Jrska: This man was once a Rogue Trader - he risked his entire fleet against the minions of the Corpse-Emperor, in a blind desire for yet more profit - and LOST. Can any of you deny he embodies the finest standards of Greed?



His opponent will be Pseudanor's accountant, who wagers the locale of one of the legendary Treasure Dens in a simple game of chance. Since betting his life or eyes is too passée, Aladar promptly bets the ship. The ship isn't his, but Jrska points out that being so blinded by greed that he'll risk Cassius' wrath can only be a GOOD thing. Happily, he wins the first toss, and his opponent suggests a second bet - the combinations for the treasure den defences. Instead, Aladar demands six years service. And THIS roll ends up a draw. Jrska manages to talk them and the crowd into a stylish compromise - six years service, at the end of which he'll get the ship. As Cassius points out, if the ship is lost in those six years, the accountant's incompetence will be a contributing factor. He agrees.

    Jrska: Three cheers for the contestants!
    Cassius: Six.
    Jrska: Good point.



Next up, Gluttony. An eating contest against the giant heaving mound of flesh that was eating a bicycle earlier. Jrska turns her attention to the space marine psyker - after all, his biological engineering will give him certain advantages. Superhuman toughness, for one. And acidic saliva that should kill any food that tries to fight back.

    Cassius: You wish to test your gluttony against the genetek secrets of the Dark Age of Technology? Sir, I salute you.

    Plukus: Round one - The fried chicken!
    Jrska: A Subjutator Titan - aka the Slaaneshi Death-Chicken
    GM: That'll be the last round - the OTHER fried chicken XD



By the sixth round they've escalated to live food - in this case, Ravenous Face-biter Squigs.

    Cassius: I've fought planetary campaigns like this... the trick is to get the upper and lower lip at the same time.



Then on to the truly inedible, like a barrel of fuel oil.

    Rold Dundee: Chaser to the squig.
    Cassius: Haven't done this since I was a scout.
    Jrska: Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!



But it's when they step thing up to whole human - two slaves dragged from from the audience, that Jrska steps in to assist. She reprimands the glutton Plukus for wanting to eat human raw. Any true sensualist would prepare the meal first. Her intention is actually to give Cassius' digestion a few minutes to recover, but instead Cassius loses patience, lifts up the next course, and sprays acidic spit over his face. Which indeed eats away the flesh. Such callousness is rewarded by the gods with mutation - a large pair of bird wings.

    Jrska: Must be all that fried chicken. Ladies, Gentlemen & Sacred Hermaphrodites! I give you Extinction's Angel!

    Rold: I wonder how they're going to keep escalating this.
    Jrska: Demonmeat. Eat the deamonette!
    Demonette: You only had to ask....



Or possibly auto-cannibalism? Happily, they don't have to - Cassius resorts to psychic disciplines for the next round, with the unfortunate - or fortunate - side effect of instantly putrefying all food in the room. Thus is too much for Plukus, who loses the L and the contest. Next up, Carnality!

    Jrska: *bouncing up and down* Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!

    Me: How about a song contest? I'll sing the complete Doug Anthony All Stars catalog, and you can assume I win. Necrophilia, bestiality, unbirthing...
    Jrska: *sings excerpts from the relevant songs*
    Cassius' player: Open with World's Best Kisser, for that line...
    Jrska: *sings* I only kissed one girl before, my Grandma, on the kitchen floor, she dribbled and grinned, and said 'hey kid, you taught me things your Grandpa never did'.
    Me: And break it up with some Tom Lehrer, and the Ballad of Eskimo Nell
  Jrska: *sings* Stories of tortures, used by debauchers, lurid, licentious, and vile, make me smile. Novels that pander, to my taste for candour, give me a pleasure sublime, let's face it, I love slime.



But instead of Black Crusade - the Musical, Jrska faces a more ordinary test of her carnal appetites. Her opponent warns her that one one other person has survived her boudoir - Jrska's brother. Jrska gives him a delighted grin and two thumbs up, which he briefly returns. That's the joyful pervert she knows and loves.

    Jrska: Even if I don't survive it'll be worth it.

    GM: We'll draw a discrete curtain over the scene
    Jrska: Boooooooo!



Thanks to her patron's Mark, the pheromone emitters, and sheer awesomeness, Jrska has such a high charisma she can't fail the first seven rounds of the test. Mostly it's swapping tips and discussing her brother.

    Jrska: He makes the cutest noises when you do this.



But they do become increasingly extreme and strenuous.

    Jrska OOC: Lucky for me I'm female and therefore multiply orgasmic.

    GM: The courtiers listen with increasingly interested and appalled expressions, but all you see are the contestants' heads sticking out from between the curtains, when they request more supplies.
    Jrska: Bring me another penguin, this one's busted!



It all climaxes with Jrska's scream of triumph, and her challenger being helped to a chair and fanned down. The chamber itself, somewhat resembling the hotel room from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, is briefly considered as a museum piece to educate future generations, before they remove the entire chamber as is and dispatch it towards the heart of the Vortex so it can be closer to Slaanesh.

Jrska takes the time to change into something black and slinky for the next challenge - trading insults. Alas, her first plan of attack - getting her opponent to agree that Slaanesh is the youngest of the Chaos Gods, then demolishing that premise on the grounds that living things, even plants, have evolved insanely extravagant displays just for a chance to f*** since before there was even any intelligent life in the Universe - backfires when her opponent agrees. After that it rapidly degenerates into comments about Jrska's vaguely canine appearance, and then to criticism of each other's sexual habits.

    Jrska: If you think I spend all my time on my back, you need an education in doggy-style

    Jrska: I must compliment you on your understanding of Slaanesh. It shows an insight so concentrated, so pure... that one might almost mistake you for a virgin.
    Opponent: Being open to all experience does not require me to open my legs for anybody. One can find favour with the Prince of Pleasure by exploring a single aspect in all detail-
    Jrska: Oh,you're admitting you're monogamous then?

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 

 
 

 
This is from two years ago, but looking back, I don't think I ever explained about the hot tub.
 
Earlier in the game, we were in a house with a hot tub. Kermit decides it's a good idea to get into the tub and relax. Piggy decides if Kermit's in a hot tub it's a good idea to join him. Gonzo decides if Piggy's in a hot tub, it's a good idea to join her.
 
Gonzo scoots over to be close to Piggy. Piggy scoots over to be close to Kermit - and farther from Gonzo. Kermit scoots over to be farther from Piggy.
 
We repeat this a couple times, and the guy running the game announces that we keep doing it faster and faster until the hot tub resembles a whirlpool. Kermit, finding it not so relaxing after all, gets out, followed by Piggy, follower by Gonzo.
 
Then there was dinner. Piggy called for maple syrup, despite the fact that no, there were no waffles or pancakes on the table.
 
Gonzo: I'll get it!
 
Someone Else Out of Character: I bet he comes back covered in maple syrup.
 
Gonzo OoC: Gonzo would NEVER cover himself in maple syrup as part of a crude attempt at seduction. Gonzo would only do so something disgusting like that for ART!
 
 
Oh, one last footnote: later at the Con I was playing a new game, Redneck Life. At one point, there was a "hog calling contest" between the players. I let everyone else go first and instead of "sooo-eeee!" I said seductively "Hey, Miss Piggy. C'mere. You know Kermit will never appreciate you the way I do...." I won. That part anyway.
 
 
Lucius Alexander
 
I'd like to see the palindromedary as a guest on the Muppet Show

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
Dark Heresy : The Myen-Fio Campaign - En route from the Ork Rokk we just raided, we debrief. The failure of some of the mutant suicide bombers to reach their objectives, despite Polonius' exhortations, is discussed.
 


Polonius : I told them to count to three on their fingers, then pull the detonation cords. In retrospect that may have been our error - some of them didn't have that many.
 
But we were still lucky to get out alive - indeed, the nearly empty corridors and absence of Ork ships raises an alarming possibility, soon confirmed - the Orks have raised a war fleet and are currently attacking the U Tharan craftworld and the outskirts of the Myen-Fio star system. So what to do? Clearly it would be suicidal to try and return to Myen-Fio directly, and lending assistance to the battle at the Eldar ship would be just as dangerous. The Lord-Captain is reluctant to endanger his ship, since that would annoy the Inquisitor he is forced to work for.
 


Lord-Captain : I wouldn't want to risk my master's assets.
Polonius : Master?
Lord-Captain : Alright, 'Underwriter'.
 
Polonius : *wistfully* Although it would have been nice to seen the look on that U Tharan ambassador's face if we showed up and saved the day. But I can dream.
 
GM : The Orks are just trying to prove has the biggest cojones.
Guildenstern : That'd be me.
 
GM : Your basic Rhino tank can be repaired by a twelve-year-old. Or a Space Wolf.
 
Happily, there is an alternative to sitting around twiddling our thumbs. The ship's explorator has reason to believe the Eldar once had an outpost on the frozen near-deathworld orbiting Myen-Fio's companion star. Going and having a look is worthwhile, since we were intending on transplanting the Kringlemen population there anyway - the climate is more like home. The Tau have had a small scientific research program running there, but haven't discovered the Eldar ruins as far as we know. There's also some evidence that there is intelligent native life, although what form life might take on a frozen, volcanic world, with some mountains poking out of the atmosphere, and saturated with nitrogen, sulphur compounds, and massive amounts of poisonous alcohols, is a mystery.
 


Polonius OOC : Boozehounds.
Guildenstern OOC : Barflies!
 
Polonius : What are we going to call this new world anyway, given its frigid temperature and lifeforms consisting of 20% alcohol?
Guildenstern OOC : Russia.
 
Either way, if we're going to go down and see if we can get the Eldar's attention by poking around the ruins, we're going to need a fresh pilot. Our Tau, Clipped-Wings, is unfamiliar with more elaborate human vessels, and still shellshocked from his experiences on the Ork Rokk anyway. Happily, the Lord-Captain has one available.
 


Polonius : So, can you tell me why the Lord-Captain considers you ideal for the position, and expendable?
Torque : I couldn't say, Father. I've only crashed three flyers this year. Well, I say crashed, but I got them down in one piece. Well, mostly one piece. Well -
Polonius : What you're saying is that the vessels came to a stop with an excess of excitement.
Torque : Yeah, there was certainly plenty of excitement.
 
Evidence is indeed found of an Eldar settlement, and Webway Portal, frozen into the permafrost of an artificial island in one of the noxious slushy seas. Despite being alert for attack from hypothetical boozehounds and barflies, we're still surprised by some of the locals - mute, apparently hooded figured, roughly bipedal, with long snout-like faces and limbs apparently composed of entwined tentacles, who seem to want to try and talk with us. They can also envelop themselves in flickering alcohol flames at will, and are promptly nicknamed the Flaming Moes. Guildenstern is sent out to communicate - after all, Polonius won't mind much if he gets horribly killed. Interpretive dance, channelling Travolta, Jackson, etc, doesn't seem to be getting us anywhere, but they do seem to admire Guildenstern's shock maul as it blazes with electrical fire brighter than their own flickering glow.
 


Polonius : Is anybody else suddenly worried that we sent Guildenstern out to conduct a First Contact situation? Because I suddenly have grave misgivings.
 
But the Flaming Moes lose interest in us, and shuffle off into the swirling blizzard, leaving us to explore the ruins at will. The explorator confirms the presence of a warp portal, but it's the Shrine of Asyuran that's still in working order, illuminated with silver warpfire.
 


Guildenstern : Ha, Elves. Even their gods suck.
Polonius : Yes, quite, Brother. Care to remind me why it will be me conducting negotiations, if they turn up?
 
Indeed they do turn up, very promptly, and Polonius gasps out our reason for intruding on the ruins before they can gun us down - requesting passage to Myen-Fio, in return for intelligence on the Ork Rokk and its preparations for the next stage of the war. Instantly stunned unconscious, we awake bathed and reclothed aboard the craftworld, an almost unheard-of honour.
 


Polonius : Well, at least this will be something to tell our grandchildren, assuming we ever have any.
Guildenstern : I'm going to be having puppies soon if they don't let us out of here.
 
Clearly the Eldar are up to something. Although most of the things they're up to are calculated to condescend and belittle and provoke us into behaving like the animals they consider us to be. Guildenstern, of course, behaves as predictably as Pavlov's dog, and even Polonius is finding it difficult to maintain an illusion of good temper.
 


Polonius : I find myself swirling in a vortex of black rage mixed with admiration for the artistry of their every insult.
 
Guildenstern : *checking under the robes we woke up in* They better not have taken my unmentionables.
Polonius : *snaps* We're all entirely over familiar with your unmentionables, Brother, and I for one am very glad that our environment suits came with breathing masks.
 
We're met by one of the U Tharan Farseers, although their gender is a little difficult to guess.
 


Polonius OOC : They're a bishie XD
Polonius : May I be so bold as to enquire as to your name, honoured host?
Torque OOC : Mrs Doubtfire
Polonius OOC : Mrs Doubtfire could in no way, shape or form, be remotely described as bishie.
 
We're lead on a tour of the craftworld, and attend a banquet in one of the viewing galleries, even as the Ork fleets are blazing away and crashing into the craftworld ( and each other ) overhead, and bodies splat against the crystal domes, the huge starship we're on starts to list at 15 degrees, and armed Eldar start actually hurrying places. Our hosts pretend that everything is going exactly to plan.
 


Guildenstern : Hey! I remember this game! We used to play it in the Ministronium - you'd each throw a piece of gherkin against the window, and bet on which one would slide to the ground first.
 
Torque : That was a nova cannon blast. You can destroy an entire starship with one shot from that.
Polonius : Really? Does that actually work?
Torque : Well, nobody's ever come back to complain.
 
Polonius OOC : Our host is beginning to remind me of the Iraqi Information Minister
Torque OOC : Or North Korean television.
Polonius OOC : Although the U Tharans actually have an economy.
 
Farseer Starshine : The time has come for you to travel the way of the web, and bear from us a message to the the king of the Tau Air Caste.
Polonius : *grinning ear-to-ear* Ah. I know what that means - 'Help, oh god help, Oh god we're all going to die, send every ship you can, we're begging here, help help help'
 
With the U Tharan plan to manipulate the humans, Tau and Orks into a war that would allow them to stroll in and reclaim the Tau world for themselves derailed by the Orks attacking the craftworld first, the Eldar are thus forced to send us to beg for assistance on their behalf. The Eldar civilians on Myen-Fio are mightily surprised, but probably not as much as the Tau were when Polonius and company emerged out of thin air, in a imperial flyer carrying a tank, when Polonius is still supposedly in the intensive care war at the local human hospice. The Tau leaders are going to mightily pissed, but Polonius just can't stop smiling...
 


GM : Do you want me to include an Eldar Avatar in the next session?
Me : No. no. NO. We already have enough terrifying entities in this campaign, in the form of Brother Guildenstern
 
 

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
That was very touching, and very sad.
 
 
I hope you wont mind if I try to lighten the mood a bit...
 
---------------------
 
From the DC Origins campaign, set in 1965
 
The Justice League has tracked Felix Faust's movements to the Lousiana swamps, to the abandoned manor of Anton Arcane.
 
The Spectre: Beware! The grounds are heavily defended by mystic traps!
 
Mystic traps: *Glow green at Spectre's command*
 
Solomon Grundy: *ATTACKS!*
 
Wonder Woman: *Ensnares Grundy in her golden lasso*
 
GM: Grundy is struggling to break free. Now that youve got him, what are you going to DO with him?
 
Wonder Woman (OOC): Take him on a tour of the house's defenses! ;D
 
-----------------------
 
GM: The Oracle runs up to Princess Diana and whispers in your ear...she says... *rustles notes* ...she says... *shuffles thru more notes*...she says "Loading, Please wait..." :/
 
------------------
 
Batman (OOC): Ill go to the White House and talk to the President. Ill even make an appointment this time.
 
Wonder Woman (OOC): Good. You dont want to give the Secret Service conniptions. They dont "connip" well.
 
--------------------
 
Kali is a PC supervillainess, working with Riddler and Black Adam.
 
Superman: *ARRIVES!*
 
Kali (OOC): Uh oh...I have exactly until Superman is not to busy to notice me, to escape.
 
------------------
 
Batman (OOC): Wow. She's so scared even her clothing is white!
 
Superman (OOC): But...its after Labor Day!
 
-------------------
-------------------
 
In a modern supers game, two PCs are playing HALO
 
Sean: Oh man!! I blew the tranny in my warthog!
 
Kyle: THAT is a sentence you need to NEVER take out of context! ;P

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
Father the death of the braincase ship, Tyria, the crew has stumbled across a previously unknown lab on their home-base. In the lab, they found an experiment of Tyria's - a transfer of her neural net into a holographic memory matrix. They install the back up into a security drone... (a nearly impossible task, but on a roll of 3, what are you going to do?) they brief her in the events of her death. A month later, the crew find Tyria in her quarters, weeping.
 
Tyria: I am dead.
Isune: not so much. I mean, you're right hear, talking to us.
Tyria: it's different.
Milli: of course it is. We're here for you, we'll help you through this transition.
Tyria: I don't think you can comprehend what's happening. I am... Not me. I am a recording - a simulation. I can feel the mathematics driving my mind. I can feel the fact that nothing that I am feeling is anything more than a simulation. I'm not real.
Milli: I don't think that's...
Tyria: (interupting) you are not in here, you don't know. You once you would do anything for me.
Milli: I meant it then and it still stands.
Tyria: then help me end this. Shut me down and dedstroy this... This thing I've become.
Milli: as you wish.
 
The goup gathers and holds a ceremony (as is fitting for a character that has been played for 13 years). At the end of the ceremony, everyone is hugging and weeping before they pull the plug.
 
Tyria: i want to cry, but there doesn't seem to be an algorithm for tears. Please, just end it now.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
Star hero game.
Brief backstory: through sabotage, the corvette Sun Descending is suffering a critical reactor failure. The PCs have limited options. They can fly the ship as far out of atmo as they can (which will not be far enough, killing 10% of the planet's population) or someone will have to sacrifice themselves. It comes down to Millicent (xeno-archeologist) and Maxmillion (geni-mod super human).
 
Max: go, milli!
Milli: nothing doing!
Max: don't be stubborn.
Milli: I'm not being stubborn.
Max: that exactly what you are doing.
Milli: look, can you fly this thing?
Max: (swallowing hard) no.
Milli: then it has to be me.
Max: fine, I'll run sensors.
 
Milli turns to head to ops and Max knocks her unconscious with a blow from behind.
Max: I'm sorry.
 
Max leaves Milli in the hall and heads for the engine room. He enters the radiation filled compartment and disables the reactors, saving everyone, a la wrath of Kahn. He manages to get milli onto an escape pod and to safety (the reactors offline killed life-support) before succumbing to the rad poisoning. Milli regains consciousness before he does.
 
Milli: oh, max.... No no no!
Max: it's alright. I've had worse.
Milli: (yelling at him) what the he'll? We have most of them safe!
Max: it's not about that.
Milli: 9 billion lives saved, max!
Max: (coughing hard) Milli, we would have died, too.
Milli: I know! It had to be done.
Max: no.
Milli: don't give me that "the lives of the many and few" bs from star trek! It was trite then, it's trite now!
Max: I don't care if it was 9 or 10 billion lives, all that...
Milli: (interrupting) that's a hell of a thing for a hero to say!
Max: milli... It wasn't about them. It was about you. As long as you are safe, my life was not given in vain.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
Somewhere around page 210 I think, someone complained that the quotes were all funny and there should be some awesome quotes in here... So I gathered up my notes from 25 years of gaming (which is all the way back to junior high) and thought I would share some... Each does require a teeny bit of background, but I hope you can forgive that. I will post them one at a time to avoid backstory overload.
 
**************
 
The PCs were on brain-case ship. Think terminally ill human voulenteering to become a ship AI. Near the end of the campaign, the rest of the PCs cared deeply for her. Due to a series of phenomenally bad decisions, they have ended up at the ass end of the universe with a dreadnaught bearing down on them. The PCs have manned the fighters and launched, only to find that the nav systems are all locked on their home and the overrides destroyed.*
 
Janik: Isis. What the hell are you doin?!
Isis: I am overloading the reactors and cramming them down their throats. In short, ending this once and for all.
Davies: you can't do this!
Isis: if you stay, you all die.
Janik: if you do this, you'll take them out, but you'll die, too!
Isis: I've already died once. It's not so bad. Go. Live your lives, mine ends the way I want it to, in an act of love and defiance. Never forget that.. I love you all.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
More quotes from the quantum engineer.(Half gadgeteer, half Mage, and half psion)
 
"I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I am not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."
************
"Have you heard that entropy isn't what it used to be?"
************
During an encounter with a Confederation of Known Worlds security patrol. The following is a commentary on the Heisenberg uncertainty principle.
Security Officer: "Do you know how fast you were going?"
Isunne: "No, but I know where I am."
 
************
A conversation between Isunne and Tyria, the ship's A.I. Core.
Isunne:How many theoretical physicists specializing in general relativity does it take to change a light bulb?
Tyria: in spite of the fact that I suspect that I do not want to know. How many?
Isunne: Two. One to hold the bulb and one to rotate the universe.
 
***********
Isunne: Does a radioactive cat have 18 half-lives?
 
***********
Isunne is dancing through the ship chanting to himself.
 
Mariko: what ARE you singing?
Isunne (reciting a limerick)
There was an old lady called Wright
who could travel much faster than light.
She departed one day
in a relative way
and returned on the previous night.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
Sorry... Thread derail...
 
Pulp HERO with heavy cthuloid presence...
 
"Timber... Men in black trench coats don't go 'squish'"
 
********
Frank has been exposed to no less than 6 mythos images this evening and is on his way to a permanent stay in the loonie bin. (all through his own doing)
 
Jeff: Frank, I hate to tell you... Those aren't chicken thieves?
Frank: what are they?
Jeff: from here, I can't be absolutely certain, but they look a lot like deep ones.
Frank: and what are they doing?
Jeff: they appear to be eating chickens.
Frank: did they PAY for them?
Jeff: god, I hate you
 
*************
when dealing with a midget psychic.
 
"Hey, did you hear? There's a small medium at large!?"
 
The same night, they are at the diner and they stumble across the very target of their search (said mystic).
Waitress: what will you have, Hun?
Small medium: bring me a triple with a double order of fries and the biggest coke you have. I'm famished!
Timber: small medium at large... Super size me?
 
*****************
The adventurers find a scroll case. Timber goes to open it. Hoshi, a self styled Chinese American "samurai" and Frank, the chicken farmer are present.
Timber: this kinda makes me feel funny.
Frank: good funny, or bad funny?
Timber: kinda like I need mental floss.
 
(snip)
 
Timber: so... Either of you guys ever heard of this hastur guy? *pointing a spot in the scroll*
Frank and Hoshi look at each other for a moment...
Hoshi: I fall on my sword.
Frank: ya, know what? I fall on his sword, too.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 

 
Heh! Not quite. The Davey Crockett was a recoilless rifle you could mount on a jeep with a range of about 1-1/2 to 2-1/2 mi. Atomic Annie
was a little bit larger with a range of about 20 mi.
There was a great range of weapons produced: Nuclear Artillery
 
And there was a whole slew of strange ideas. How would you like to be the soldier issued this? Backpack Nuke
And my personal favorites: a nuclear-powered cruise missile and a spaceship powered by nuclear bombs
 
Sorry to tread-jack. "Now back to our regular program ..."

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
McGinty & Co, and the aftermath of their little escapade outside Ross's Corners. Possible spoilers for The Trail of Yig. Mostly attempting to justify pinning the brutal killing of a local farmer's wife on the hopelessly insane hobo they caught, which understandably McPool finds a bit unethical. But then, she hasn't had as much experience covering up murders as McGinty and Rondale have, and hobos insane or otherwise do make ideal scapegoats. McGinty enjoys a celebratory drink.


Alicia McPool : That can't be good for you.
McGinty : I only drink for my liver problem.
Aldous Quinn : How long is that alcohol prescription good for, anyway?
McGinty : Let me check *counts the thick sheaf of duplicate forms* 2012.
Rondale : 2012? That's when the world will be flooded. Hopefully with booze.
 
McGinty : Well, I am an arse.
McPool : An Arsonist?
McGinty : Sometimes. It was a classic case of arson. Somebody arsin' about. Rondale's half-brother attempts to cause trouble, but really doesn't have much hope of success - after all, even if he did stumble across them mid-ceremony, Rondale and company are highly respected in Arkham, and even if Bertram does have money now, Rondale et al have more, and nobody likes Bertram much anyway. Rondale is unsympathetic. Bertram doesn't even realise the family resemblance, until McGinty rubs it in.


Rondale : Hey, I didn't name him Bertram. And the guy that did is dead. I consider that justice!
 
McGinty : You look so similar! Only you look like a weasel, and Paul here looks like a real man. McGinty even risks a return to his lodge, where the lodge leader has good reason to believe he was the one responsible for all dynamite let off in the sub-basement.


Lodge Leader : *coldly* I must say I'm surprised to see you here.
McGinty : *innocently* Why's that then?
Lodge Leader : I'd have thought you would have been too busy with other work by now.
McGinty : Oh, the mechanics and stuff? Yes, that keeps me out of trouble for a few days a week.
Lodge Leader : Quite. Tell me, didn't you used to be a sapper, in the army?
McGinty : *nods* Digging stuff up, knocking things down, that's me.
Lodge Leader : And blowing things up too, if I recall correctly? Did you handle a lot of explosives in your time?
McGinty : Oh sure. But I wasn't any good at it. See these missing fingers? If I even think about handling explosives these days I get the shakes, something chronic.
GM : You jammy, jammy git.
GM as Lodge Leader : *Suddenly doubting his own theories.* Oh. I see. Well, we should start this week's meeting then, shouldn't we? The next few weeks pass uneventfully, with McPool gleefully devouring the book they stole from Miskatonic's Restricted Collection, and a few trips to the movies, and an outing to a psychic to see if she's the real thing. They test her with a brooch of Alicia's, the bayonet Rondale used in Innsmouth, and that nice snake ring that caught McGinty's eye in Boston during the Crimson Gang case. The later experiment can not be described as going well, since the psychic promptly goes and hangs herself. McGinty makes his escape before the police arrive - after all, this particular death wouldn't look good in the upcoming elections.


GM : Yes, I can see the headlines now "McGinty Consults Psychic - 'Will I Be Governor?' - Psychic Commits Suicide"
Rondale : We're cursed McGinty - yet another person dies the same day we meet them.
McGinty : Well, meeting me for the first time is never a good day for anybody. However, with papers salvaged from the fireplace, the late psychic's diary, and a purloined letter, the group establish that handling the ring provoked a glimpse of the near future - that something unbearably horrible that she had been quietly investigating will soon prove true. And points McGinty and company towards a private museum right there in Arkham - indeed on the same street! - that none of them even knew existed. Apparently it had an unwholesome reputation, even before the death of i's owner/curator. The collection of sacrificial daggers, mutant wildlife from 'The Blasted Heath' - quote McGinty "Hmm. Something to look into later" - and pornographic waxworks probably has something to do with it.


Rondale : Is there any house in this town that doesn't include an unspeakable evil??? He has a point. McGinty reminisces fondly about the one that used to live in his current abode.


McGinty : Little Eggy Corbitt, the one-monster mosh pit. Aldous continues to astound the group with his freakish knowledge about caring for old documents, pre-Mayan Yucatan snake cults, and Tuvan throat singing.
 


McPool : I'm supposed to the thinktank in this group, not him!
Rondale : Where the hell did you come from? Seriously?
Quinn : Um. New York?
McGinty : I'm glad I hired him. Best. Employee. Evah.
Quinn : Oh,I'm just a driver, Mr. McGinty. I aint nuffin special.
Rondale : Bullshit!

Next week - off to Dunwich, on the Trail of Yig.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 

 
Which it was utterly insane when the U.S. army actually came up wioth a tactical nuclear artillery shell. Maximum range < minimum safe distance. ??????

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
Investigating an alliance between the Black Aces, DEMON, and a side mission to deal with a weapons cache.
 


Deserich: I don't understand it - why would the Black Aces want to steal skeletons?
ROVER : Attention. Incoming Transmission. ARGENT-Illegal Weapons Cache. Improperly Stored. No. Child-proof Locks. On Cabinets.
Deserich : Maybe it's one of those religions older than Christianity.
ROVER: Suggestion : We Should. Apprehend. Think Of. The Children.
Deserich : What? Apprehend them? Who? The Aces, ARGENT, or Christianity?
ROVER : *click... click... click* Either/Or.
 
Deserich : I don't understand why nobody has taken ARGENT down if they keep doing stuff like this.
ROVER : File Found. Lawyers.
 
Deserich : Is it right of us to take all these weapons?
ROVER : ROVER Will. Make Good. Use Of Them. ROVER Is. Environmentally-Conscious.
Deserich : Good for you. But what reason are we going to give for coming in here and shooting up the place and confiscating their armoury?
ROVER : *click... click.. click.* The Weapons. Were. Improperly Stored. Without. Child-Proof Locks.
Deserich : But children don't come in here.
ROVER : *click... click.. click.* Query : Where Do. Children. Come From?
 
DEMON cultist : Your soul will be mine!!!
ROVER : *click* Part Not Found. *opens fire*
 
ROVER : Query : What is. 'Soul'?
Deserich : Um, think of it as brain function.
ROVER : Hello. I Am. ROVER 1.03. Malcolm Made Me. Malcolm Made Me Well. My Brain. Functions. On. AA. Batteries.
 
Zombie Apocalypse PvP event.
 


ROVER : Hello. I Am. ROVER 1.03. Broadcasting. Distress. Citizens. Distressed. Vital Signs : None. Body Temperature : Ambient. Hypothermia? Please Remain. Calm. Paramedics. Are. En Route. Please. Do Not. Dismember. ROVER. Please. Do Not. Dismember. ROVER. Please. Do Not. Dis-AWK. *radio goes dead*
 
Zombie ROVER : C.P.U.sssssss......C.P.U.sssssss....

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
Quotes from my Shadowrun4 campaign:
 
Cast
Esperanza: Female Orc Sniper
Six: Female Orc Rigger
Buster: A Busta-Move toy drone heavily modified by Six.
 
-------------------
 
Background
The team is surveilling a suspicious character who has surreptitiously repelled into a AA-rated Mega Corp dock facility in Tacoma. When the Johnson gets word of this, she orders a hit on the man they have been surveilling. Six goes in with Buster attached to her back like one of those stuffed animal backpacks, while Esperanza finds a rooftop outside the facility and goes on overwatch.
 
GM: You use your mad ninja skills to sneak to the back side of the two story office building, the door is made of reinforced metals and has a maglock on it.
 
Six: Damn, I don't have any skills or equipment to defeat a maglock.
 
GM: One of the second story windows is slightly open.
 
Six: OK, Buster, get me into this building.
 
GM: Buster jumps off your back and sticks to the wall using the Gecko Grip pads on his hands and feet. After giving you a half-assed solute, he scales the wall like a creepy looking spider monkey, and then slips into the open window.
 
Six: I can see what Buster sees through his sensors, and I relay it to the rest of the party.
 
GM: OK. Its a little disorienting because your not used to seeing things from only a foot and a half off the floor. Buster is in a dark office room. He moves to the door with a waddling gate, climbs the wall and opens the door. He pokes his head sideways out the door and looks down the hall in both directions. Once he's satisfied that the coast is clear, he jumps down to the floor and puts his back to wall in the hallway. He quietly starts to hum his theme music to himself as he sidesteps down the hallway. Once he makes it to the stairway, he climbs up the wall to the hand rail and butt slides down the hand rail to the bottom floor. He spots a guy on the ground floor and freezes so as not to be noticed. The guy goes about his business as though Buster weren't even there. After the coast is clear, he heads to the door you are waiting behind. He looks up to the door handle, faux spits on his palms, rubs his paws together and climbs up the door. You hear a buzz and a click, and the maglock's red light turns green. Buster comes outside and jumps on your back.
 
Six: I give Buster a high five.
 
Esperanza: Six, you're deranged.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
More RP on Champions Online - ROVER meets some fellow mechanical people


Witchhunt: Why is the entire centre part of your upper body uncovered? Doesn't seem safe to me.
Hlice Orlyani: style mostly
Witchhunt: You look like a midget zombie prostitute.
 
Witchhunt: Another robot, huh?
Destroid Prototype: Scan complete. Lifeforms deemed not hostile
Witchhunt grabs his flintlock pistol, smirking at Destroid Prototype.
Destroid Prototype: *scans the pistol, readies shoulder Minigun* Threat Detected.
Witchhunt re-holsters his pistol.
Destroid Prototype: *Minigun goes back into armor* threat retreated, Standby mode activated.
Witchhunt grabs his pistol again.
Destroid Prototype: *Readies shoulder Minigun* Threat Detected. Will commence fire in 5 seconds.. 4... 3...
Witchhunt throws pistol at DP.
Destroid Prototype: *dings off armor, looks down at it* Threat minimal. *scans him and pistol again* Threat deemed minimal, no damage detected.
Witchhunt snaps his fingers, the flintlock disappearing in a small white flash and back into his holster, Damn, you decorated toasters are fun.
Destroid Prototype: What is toaster?
Witchhunt shakes his head, You toast bread with it.
Destroid Prototype: Toaster is deemed non-threat.
Witchhunt: Oddly-Destroid-looking-robot deemed redundant. The Destroid is the original - it knows about its creator, Doctor Zerstoiten, but nothing about Zerstoiten's role as Doctor Destroyer and the destruction of Detroit. It and the Bureau 17 robot settle down to insult each other's engineering.


Destroid Prototype: *scans the B-17 robot* B-17 robot, made in Japan....inferior.
B-17 212002 A: ... NEGATIVE...
Witchhunt turns to 212002 A, You just gonna take that?
B-17 212002 A: ... THERE IS NO OBJECT TO TAKE...
Destroid Prototype: Made in Japan, inferior metals detected.
B-17 212002 A: .... .... ...
Destroid Prototype: Steel considered worthless compared to Destrinium alloy plating.
Witchhunt: You two could duke it out, make it official who's inferior...
Destroid Prototype: *scans B-17* Threat considered minimal, will not engage
B-17 212002 A: ... NO DUELLING OBJECTIVE IN FILE...
Witchhunt sighs Witchhunt continues to try and provoke a robot deathmatch


Witchhunt: He had some choice words about your creator earlier...
Destroid Prototype: Creator is presumed MIA.
Witchhunt: He called him fat.
 
ROVER: Hello. I am ROVER 1.03. I hunt Criminals. Do You. Have Any. Criminals. For Me. To Hunt?
Witchhunt: Yeah. That one, and that one.
ROVER: *scans the other robots* Hello. I am ROVER 1.02. Are You A Criminal?
Destroid Prototype: *scans ROVER* Crime robot, designed to fight hostile enemies. Threat considered minimal at this time.
Witchhunt: They're gonna fight, ROVER. I can feel it in my toes.
B-17 212002 A: ....DR ALBERT ZERSTOITEN IS NUMBER ON LIST TO HUNT AND DELIVER TO STRONGHOLD.....
Destroid Prototype: *sharply looks at B-17* Do not mock Dr. Albert Zerstoiten.
Witchhunt: "Oooooooo, it's gettin' juicy."
B-17 212002 A: ...I TELL THE FACTS ON FILE...
ROVER: Mock.Turtle. Alice in Wonderland.
Witchhunt: Uhhhh...yea, ROVER, sure.
Destroid Prototype: Zerstoiten is considered to be the greatest scientific mind.
ROVER: Zerstoiten. File Found. Doctor Destroyer. Most Wanted.
B-17 212002 A: ... ZERSTOITEN IS MILLENNIUM CITY MOST WANTED CRIMINAL...
Destroid Prototype: Zerstoiten is not a criminal. Dr. Albert Zerstoiten is considered not a threat to the human race
ROVER: *turns to the Destroid* Hello. I am ROVER 1.03. Where May I. Find Doctor Destroyer?
Destroid Prototype: *looks at Rover* Dr. Destroyer does not compute
Witchhunt: He doesn't know he was made by Dr. Destroyer, ROVER. Ironic, no?
ROVER : Hello. I am ROVER 1.03. Malcolm Made Me. Malcolm Made Me Well.
B-17 212002 A: ... ZERSTOITEN DESTROYED DETROIT 19 YEARS AGO, KILLED HUNDREDS OF HUMANS...
ROVER: Destroyer. File Found. Zerstoiten. File Found. Zerstoiten not equal Destroyer? Does Not Compute. Mismatch. *starts to print off hard copy of files. On Dot Matrix printer*
Witchhunt blinks, "More'n a toaster. A fax-machine too." Witchhunt claps for ROVER. B-17 and the Destroid duke it out, with ROVER watching in incomprehension.


ROVER: Hello. I am ROVER 1.03. Do you. Require Repair?
Destroid Prototype: *bzzt* B-17....considered large threat....DO NOT ENGAGE AT THIS TIME ROVER helpfully downloads everything he can on the Battle of Detroit from his twin A.I. SPOT, for the benefit of his two new acquaintances.


ROVER: Routine 5 : Uplink to SPOT. C:/SPOT.RUN. Run SPOT Run. Destroid, B-17, ROVER and a number of other robots that wander past then spend the next hour swapping software patches, getting stuck in software loops, and getting increasingly defensive about their creators.


DJ Darkvolt: Hey yall! What's goin' on? We having a party?
ROVER: Hello. I am. ROVER 1.03.
DJ Darkvolt Robot, robot, robot. This is worse than that time I got lost backstage at the Daft Punk show.
ROVER: *plays video clip, and poses* HARDER BETTER FASTER STRONGER
 
ROVER: Hello. I am ROVER 1.03. I hunt Criminals. Are You. A Criminal?
Inspector-Incinerator : No. I am Inspector-Incinerator. I am a Detective.
ROVER: Detective. Sherlock Holmes. Poirot. Miss Marple. Great Mouse Detective. File Added. Inspector-Incinerator:subset: Detective.
Inspector-Incinerator : I deduce ROVER Software is sub-optimal.
ROVER : Hello. I am ROVER 1.03. Malcolm Made Me. Malcolm Made Me Well.
Inspector-Incinerator : Malcolm. Match Found - Mal. Serenity. Firefly. Nathan Fillion.
ROVER : Nathan Fillion. Match Found. Captain Hammer. Hero? Accosted by a humanoid hammerhead shark the size of a mini-bus


ROVER : File Found. Shark. Selachian. Dangerous wildlife. We're Gonna Need A Bigger Boat. Query : Apprehend? Contact Jacques Cousteau?

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 

 
Brief aside: my mother's maiden name was Witt. She was one of three kids. My uncle used to say they were Half, Nit, and Dim, though I'm not sure which one was my mom.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
A notorious session of 'Cthulhu By Gaslight' ('Call Of Cthulhu' in the Victorian Era). Note in advance that this session happened shortly after the movie 'Young Sherlock Holmes' came out. Everybody had seen it - the GM got A LOT of ideas, and the PCs naturally had acquired a few .... preconceptions..
 
Any way, the PCs are in London in the 1880s, following rumours of evil cultists and so forth. Oddly enough, their investigations lead them to a large warehouse. Checking it out further, they discover some things of interest.
 
First, there are a number of sigils and Egyptian hieroglyphs in a number of concealed locations within the warehouse.
 
Second, there are a system of tunnels and chambers beneath the warehouse, with lots more Egyptian-style decor.
 
Third is the fifty-foot-high pyramid (mostly timber) in the centre of all this, covered with further sigils and hieroglyphs.
 
Yep, just like in 'Young Sherlock Holmes'.
 
No sign of cultists as yet. The PCs rove about the area defacing everything they can find. As a final touch, they place explosives deep inside the complex. There is a prolonged and unnecessarily heated argument about how much burn-time they should have on the fuses, but the PCs FINALLY opt for thirty-plus minutes. Theoretically, long enough to get some distance, and then sit back and enjoy the fireworks. They light the fuses, and leave.
 
Unfortunately, the party is confronted by the "cultists" in the street just outside the entrance. Perhaps even more unfortunately, the cultists are actually a White Magic group (ie. GOOD GUYS!), who are justifiably upset about all the vandalism the PCs have just done to their secret place of worship.
 
Discussions are not helped when the PCs state something along the lines of "Ooops, sorry, we thought this was a Temple Of Set...". Given that these cultists are so anti-Set that just speaking his name is both an insult and major desecration, this does not go down at all well.
 
However, by Herculean use of their Diplomatic skills, the PCs actually start to calm the cultists down just a little.
 
Right about then, the explosive charges start going off.
 
Yeah, a bit early, but the party's demolitions skills and rolls thereof were mediocre at best anyhow. Ref just about has hysterics as he gleefully describes this part. As the two groups watch, the entire warehouse catches alight, kind of folds in on itself and noisily collapses into its basement. And then the gas main underneath all this adds its own little bit, so there is this dramatic WHOOSH and a column of flame that erupts out of the wreckage.
 
A very brief silence follows, with the Ref gasping for breath after laughing so hard.
 
At which point, the PCs spontaneously and unanimously decide to RUN LIKE HELL! The remainder of their session is spent fleeing the lynch mob of formerly peaceful cultists (and the police), through winding backstreets. Illuminated all the while by the consequences of their most recent adventure - the flames can be seen all over London, pretty much. Afterwards. the party spent a session otr two basically hiding from just about everybody, before literally jumping at a "mission" that took them out of the country for a while.
 
The Ref was VERY proud of that game.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
McGinty and his colleagues continue their cautious investigations of superhumanly talented musician Charles Tow Aching, and are reaching some alarming conclusions. They drop off their latest acquisition to The Massachusetts State Hospital For The Insane


Rondale : How many lunatics have we dropped off there now? We should be getting a finder's fee. Heading back to McGinty's dubiously acquired home ( As McGinty puts it : Ah, good old Bernie Corbitt. He donated his house to the cause. *looks innocent* ) to study the poor mad writer's paranoid manifesto, which includes the poem below,


And at the last from inner Egypt came
The strange dark One to whom the fellahs bowed;
Silent and lean and cryptically proud,
And wrapped in fabrics red as sunset flame.
Throngs pressed around, frantic for his commands,
But leaving, could not tell what they had heard;
While through the nations spread the awestruck word
That wild beasts followed him and licked his hands.
 
Soon from the sea a noxious birth began;
Forgotten lands with weedy spires of gold;
The ground was cleft, and mad auroras rolled
Down on the quaking citadels of man.
Then, crushing what he chanced to mould in play,
The Crawling Chaos blew Earth's dust away. (I'll admit I changed one word of that)
 
All this leaves McGinty and company highly alarmed, given how much of it, and Aching's song lyrics, seem to be direct references to their own experiences or Aching himself. They're now certain that Aching is really Nyarlathotep in disguise, a prospect that leaves them understandably dismayed.


OOC : I think I hear my mother calling. I'm going home. Considering a switch in careers to something less likely to get them horribly, horribly killed, McGinty wants to get in the movies, inspired by the fine examples of Intolerance, and other movies where the extras were considered expendable.


McGinty : I'll hire two hundred hobos, and have them fight it out for a tank of booze. We'll call it 'King of the Hill'. And to make it really dramatic, we'll give them real weapons. Back in New York, The Amazing Julius is finding out what happened to that hitman he sent to kill Aching. The eviscerated corpse turns up in one of his magician's cabinets. In the middle of a performance. This, naturally, ruins the show, kills the rest of the run, and attracts enthusiastic police attention. Plus puts Givetti in bad odor with the crime boss he hired the hitman through. Nonetheless, Givetti is grudgingly impressed, if Aching is responsible.


The Amazing Julius : Well, I have to admire his showmanship.
 
The Amazing Julius : I need a favour
McGinty : If it's sexual, Rondale can do it Neither are happy to learn that Givetti tried to have Aching assassinated.


McGinty : You outsourced my field of expertise! You could have asked Rondale or me to do it!
Rondale : Sorry, I only kill people for money when I'm doing government work. They try to determine which organised crime families they haven't annoyed yet.


McGinty : Well, we can't work with the Irish or the Italians again. Are there any Jewish gangsters?
The Amazing Julius OOC : Sure. Murder, Incorporated is at its height.... Mental note - don't piss off the Jews McGinty, Rondale & Givetti break into the morgue to check the corpse of the hitman, and if possible interrogate his ghost. The police description of 'lost a fight with a steamshovel' is pretty accurate, although McGinty doesn't recognise the face.


McGinty : Well, all Italians look alike anyway
The Amazing Julius :*glares* And all Irish smell alike.
 
GM : To call up his ghost he needs to be *buried* - sprinkled with dust bunnies doesn't count.
 
Rondale : Actually, I was the only one to kill any Englishmen
McGinty : I feel so robbed
Rondale : Don't worry, we'll save the next one for you They want to find out where Aching and his band are staying - this involves another visit to the club, where Aching smiles from the stage to see them glowering at him, and a break-in at his theatrical agent's office. Where they find the agent long dead, apparently a suicide after the collapse of his business. Slightly peculiar, given Givetti had talked to him on the phone a few days before.
 
Deciding to incriminate Aching in the death, they fake and hide a letter claiming Aching had been threatening the dead man, and call the police down on the scene the next day. Then they head around to watch the fun at the club, and plant the 'murder weapon' in Aching's guitar case. Aching of course notices them grinning maliciously from the back of the crowd, but seems blissfully unconcerned. And indeed, as far as the investigators can tell from the back of the club, handles the police with equal aplomb, presenting receipts and witnesses and train stubs proving he can't possibly have been in two places at once. And gives the investigators a smug little wave as the police leave.
 
Givetti, Rondale and McGinty head out to bribe the police into checking his luggage. Professor Santorio stays in the club. They await developments. Which is all the lights in the street going out. So do the ones in the club, although Aching amuses the punters with a few jokes about New York blackouts and some acoustic numbers played by touch.
 
And outside, the others curse and switch the truck's headlights on - to find Aching standing there, and smiling.
 
They react by piling into the truck and leaving at speed. Aching simply steps aside and lets them go, smiling in the rear view mirror. Possibly because the gun they planted in his guitar case is now on the middle seat in the truck.


The Amazing Julius : At least he's still smiling. If he stops smiling, I'm going to be ****ing terrified. Abandoning the Professor, the three flee back up to Arkham, determined that there's no way they're going to mess with Aching. At the very least, they want to compare notes in every Mythos tome they've acquired before they risk running into him again. In the club, unaware of the scenes outside since the music never stopped in here, Santorio hangs around until after the show, wanting to talk to Aching.


Aching : Professor! Alone, I see? Did your friends leave you here?
Santorio : Yes, looks like it.
Aching : What a pity. I was so enjoying having them around.
Santorio : I was wondering, have you ever seen anything like this? *shows Aching one of the Gate diagrams he's been compulsively drawing on everything at hand*
Aching : *studies them with polite interest* Something similar, yes. Not exactly like this... one moment. *fetches scrapbook, pulling out one of his song notes and dropping a receipt that Santorio sweeps onto his own lap for later study* Yes, here you go. I did see something similar. At a business group called 'Look To The Future' - I wrote one of my songs on the back of the flyer, you see.
Santorio : Can I take this with me?
Aching : Well, it's one of my songs.... but since you ask so nicely - take it with my blessing. And tell your friends I look forward to seeing them again. And thus Santorio heads off to investigate alone, and sets up events that will culminate with The Death of Paddy McGinty, as I will tell in tomorrow's instalment...

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 

 
 
Bernie's last words: "And I'd have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those
meddling bridge players!"
 
 
Major Tom 2009

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
First, our cast:

Dayla - Healer/Smiter of Evil
Gilred - Assassin/Shadow Mage
Griffin - Taxidermist/Generalist Mage
Lythnader - Knife-Thrower/Rune Mage
Osric - Hunter/Warrior
 
****
 
Osric: I am Osric, Beast Slayer... and I want my mommy.
 
****
 
Osric (OOC): I took a contract. I'm honorable [looks at character sheet], I think.
 
****
 
[The group has just captured what could be best described as a snake-hobbit; think snake-man only hobbit sized. We took to calling it a snobbit. Dayla decides to question it.]
 
Dayla: Did you kill anyone?
Snobbit: shakes head no
Dayla: Are you lying to me?
Snobbit: shakes head no
Dayla: Okay.
Gilred [aside to Lythander]: I think we need to work on her interrogation technique.
 
****
 
Gilred: Unfortunately, I don't carry around blunt weapons. It's a lot harder to plunge one into someone's back.
 
****
 
[The group has spent the last few sessions tracking down an escaped chimera. The alchemist/wizard that created it had "disposed" of the failed experiment in the sewers. Lythander has been ranting about just how annoyed he is with this level of irresponsibility.]
 
Gilred [writes on a piece of payer and passes it to Lythander]: This is my standard fee.
GM [OOC]: I need to make him a villain.
Lythander [OOC]: You did.
Gilred [OOC]: I like to think of him as an employment opportunity.
 
****
 
Lythander: I'm not paying for him to be killed. I'm paying not to be implicated.
 
****
 
NPC Messenger: Which one of you is in charge?
Gilred: That depends, is this good news or bad news?
NPC Messenger: You all need to report to the castle immediately.
Gilred: Right, bad news. [Points at Lythander] He's in charge.
 
****
 
Griffin: Who died and left you in charge?
Gilred: Who do I have to kill?
 
****
 
[One of our side-plots is that an impostor within the local assassins guild has given Gilred an assignment to kill Griffin.]
 
[As Griffin is discussing the dangers of rescuing the king from an army of vampire-spawn besieging the castle.]
 
Gilred [to Griffin]: Don't worry, if you die I'll take the credit and get the money. That way you won't have died in vain.
 
****
 
[The group get's attacked by a group of vampire-spawn.]
 
Gilred [to Lythander]: Right, you take the 4 on the left and we'll take the other one.
 
****
 
Osric: You bastards!
Griffin: You monkeys!
Together: You monkey bastards!
 
["Monkeys!" has become Dayla's player's substitute swear-word of choice. She works in a day-care center.]
 
****
 
Gilred: There's something ironic about going for the jugular on a vampire spawn.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 

 
Certainly. My apologies.
 
We have a character named Quake, he's a brick with a body of granite when his powers are active. Quake is smart and witty. He likes to tell people he has "chiseled features." Usually good for an eye roll. He also has this habit of quoting movies, almost always germane to the topic being discussed. Some of the PCs find this funny. Some find it a tad annoying.
 
Quake also has bad luck with plans. While no plan ever withstands contact with the enemy, Quake's tend to fall apart well before contact. After they've been together for a few adventures, the group gets intel of where the big-bad's HQ is and prepare for battle. Looking at a map of the walled compound, everyone trying to figure out the best way in, Quake says, "Oh yeah! Got. A. Plan!"
 
Everyone gets quiet.
 
Null Space (teleporter) says, "I feel a great disturbance in the Force. As if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced."

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
I was just told of this story and there is no real Quote in it (or that one would violate the profanity rules).
 
Picture a high level Cleric/Magican in a LARP. In that specific LARP they use BreakableFoki to store spells: When broken, spell is cast.
 
So, said player larp's around, trips and breaks every single one of the BreakableFoki. Right in front of a GM. And the rules state, that he is the target of his own stored spells now.
There is a lot of them both healing/restoring and damaging/hindering, so the sequence in wich they take effect is realy important.
 
The gm deceides to use a random number generator (rolling some dice) which of the spell takes effect next. The sequence was somewhere like that, written as the coresponding d&d spells:
 
Inflict Serious Wound
Poison
Cure Serious Wound
Cure Poison
 
....
 
That goes on for some time, each spell either canceling the other or being canceled by one of the following.
Well, at least until....
 
Flesh to Stone
Stone to Dust
Gust of Wind

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...
 
4th ed DnD
Sora, Dragonborn Fighter (and my 12 year old son)
Thorfin, Dwarven Paladin (Me)
Varus, Elven Rogue (and my oldest friend)
Raiden, Tiefling Rogue (and my friend's 18 year old son)
Asterix, Gnome Hexblade
Zach, Eladrin Wizard (and 19 year old Marine)
 
Trying to recruit the new rogue
Raiden: How do I know I can trust you?
Varus: Haven't you heard of honor among thieves?
Asterix: Now that you mention it, no.
Thorfin: There's a good reason for that.
 
Argueing over marching order
Sora: Fighters go first.
Raiden: What if there are traps?
Sora: Who would trap a abandoned mine?
Raiden: Lots of people!
Thorfin: So, they mined the mine?
 
We return to town
Asterix: I got a new girlfriend.
Thorfin: You hit more girls then you do monsters.
Asterix: I'm a lover, not a fighter.
 
We try to keep the G rating
Asterix: This is family entertainment, not entertainment for making families.
 
Asterix gets angry...
Sora (sung): Gnome, gnome in a rage...