Some D&D groups function like clockwork, well-oiled machines of destruction. Rogues and Rangers take point, clearing the way, followed up by the Fighters and Paladins. Barbarians rampage through the battle, with Wizards and  Sorcerers hurling arcane energy in precise blasts. Clerics offer support and healing, helping to clear up any messes left behind or monsters un-muderered. Everything has a place, the group functions smoothly and dungeons are neatly looted, with barely a copper piece left behind. And then there’s the group I DM for…“You’ll need better pants than that to fight me!”

While investigating a corpse that was found with a tail attached to it (And wearing nothing but it’s boots, something there was no small amont of fixation on), they had found their way to a garden maze, which the locals said was mostly used by young lovers for illicit trysts. The Dragonborn Ranger had been talking to a squirrel (Soon named Prince Frederick, the Champion of Squirrels!) nearby who had identified a bad smell and scary people at the center of the maze. They then proceeded to stealthily lay waste to the cultists and save the day! Actually no… What followed was a long discussion on smallclothes (Started in part by the Gnome Wizard and his thoughts about his robe) and while the Ranger had attempted to lead them through the maze things weren’t going well.

“No, you can’t set the fog on fire.”

The Paladin, (Having found time to change into his secret identity of that most noble and pretty vigilante, the White Rose), proceeded to leap onto the Ranger’s shoulders and ride her along like cavalry, which meant he could now see above the maze and direct them far more efficiently (AKA, at all). Also, sniffing someone’s crotch doesn’t determine their identity. The Dragonborn hasn’t quite got the hang of civilisation yet. There was a minor setback thanks to an errant crossbow bolt (Actually a spell, but I wasn’t telling them that) and they finally made it to the enter of the maze. Given the noise they were making, there was no chance they hadn’t been observed (Along with a well placed Alarm spell) and while they accquitted themselves quite well and captured one of the cultists (The Rogue took a few stabs, as did the Ranger and Paladin), the mysterious person leading the ritual managed to escape (FUCK YES Pass Without Trace). There was an attempt to leap over the hedge to follow them, which was closely followed by the hedge being set on fire. At that point the law arrived, though not the possible love intererest Watch Sergeant they sassed mightily last session, but a more “I’m getting too old for this sort of shit” type.

“There’d be a lot of dead people.” “No, just some.”

The White Rose and Wizard both vanished (The Wizard is a street wizard see, and might have a record) with the rest of the party left to explain how they keep finding themselves in close proximity to corpses. The Watch, like Queen Victoria, are not amused. What followed was more sass, as the Watch bagged and tagged the evidence, and a bucket chain put the out the fire in the hedge. More investigation followed, and the loot counted (Which was mysteriously light) along with dinner, with the Ranger planning a suit of armour for Prince Frederick. As we leave our intrepid band, they disovered that the ceremony appeared to be venerating Malar, the Beastlord and God of the Hunt. This sort of thing isn’t really in keeping with worshippers of Malar (As far as they know), and as we fade out and roll credits the plan is to contact some of the local Druid circles.

“Why do we need to elevate the boudoir?”

I might sound like I’m ripping on them for incompetence and that’s really not it. For all they might lack in efficiency, seriousness and staying on plot (A lack of which almost perfectly sums up my GM’ing style) , they more than make for up for by being a hell of a lot of fun to GM for.Really, if they were on target and organised, I’m not sure I could run that sort of game. I’d try, but I think it’d drive me mad. There was I nervous that I hadn’t prepared enough plot, but no, with their customary attention to messing about and investigating random bits of flavour I’ve come up with off the top of my head, I’ve got a good setup for next session. I suppose I should actually decide what the overarching plot will be, or who their mysterious patron actualy is, but I’m having too much fun. Next session’s in a fortnight – I should start writing that one before the day of the game.

So, another Sydcon is over and I’m stuck in a mix of sleep deprivation fog and brain exhaustion. As always, after the first 2 sessions everything becomes a blur. I maintain no small amount of jealously for GM’s who can keep better track of their notes, or have enough brain space to remember individual events and quotes from their games. My event seemed to go quite well – a lot of my regulars were back, as were the demands for a sequel to Fair and Balanced, my Fox News anchors game. (It’s not happening people – you can write them yourselves) I’m sitting here looking at my sheets covered in notes and quotes and have no idea who the monsters responsible for them are. Though what does that makes me, who wrote the thing in the first place? Highlights include 2 groups making friends with the giant sabertooth tiger, while the party’s wizard was consistently (And frequently incredibly) creepy, with several players powering his spells with his own blood, while one player decided to sacrifice two NPC’s to summon a giant snake to fight the creature dubbed Frogthulhu. Selected quotes follow:

“My tiger steak brings all the boys to the yard”
“You’re working for a Stygian, not a Stingyian”
*maniacal laugh* “I just destroyed a civilisation!”
“Seasickness is good for the figure”
“If this works I’ll be hanging off you like a Boris Vallejo painting”
“What? I do snakes, not tigers”
“Suprise dentistry, my least favorite kind”
And lastly, from the playest: “They took my tiger penis?”

I only managed to play one game, but that one was more than worth it. What one you ask? That was Rapture: The End of Days, from the fine folks at Storyweaver. It’s a fantastic system that my team have been playing from the beginning (One of the GM’s is still smug that we had t-shirts made, we love the game that much), where hell has returned and dying in a spectacular manner is rewarded. (Given my knack for dice rolling, that’s a useful thing.) To cut a long story short, a robot/alien/thing woman was attempting to coax information from my character, and the GM got up, ran his hands over my shoulder and started whispering in my ear. I’m told it was as uncomfortable to watch as to experience, which helps calm my nightmares somewhat. I remembered the game got intense, but it had been a few years since I’d played one and had forgotten just how intense they got. It’s all in game, but from time to time there’s games where it takes zero effort to act creeped out and that was one of them.

Yes, I was in the process of trying to betray the rest of the party at the time (Being a secret government agent), but I managed to fuck myself over incredibly well (Gaining 6 fear in a very short amount of time) before having my face eaten off by a demon I’d agreed to serve in exchange for booze and being able to cut myself. Picking up a trophy for it (Actually it was the entire team that got it) was most gratifying. My wife on the other hand, as one person commented, she put’s the trophy in trophy wife. Her haul:

WordPress refuses to align this properly and I’m too tired to care

As for my next event, that’s up in the air. Sure, the Nerf event is booked for Macquarie Con (And we’ve a lot of work to do), but it does feel a little odd not having an event already chosen for Eyecon next year. Maybe another swashbuckler? The Star Trek event I’m working on with another coup will likely be next Sydcon at the earliest. I could even take the con off and play – it’s be the first time in several years that’s happened. Something to ponder for the future. Off to do some gardening now.