Our party was fighting orcs. That seemed to be our DM's favorite enemy to throw against us, so much so that she decreed, when my friend created his wild elf priest of Tempus, that his favored enemy was orcs.
Background: Priests of Tempus might as well be berserker warriors. They walk around in blood-spattered armor, can use swords and other weapons priests can't normally use, and favor combat over pretty much any other solution to a problem.
Background 2: The priest had an Ironstar mace and loved using the Shatterstrike power. It was good against loots of things, stone walls, large doors, orc chieftans who refused to die, cauldrons containing bad meals (don't ask), and it pretty much powdered anything it hit when the Shatterstrike power went off.
Background 3: the end of the previous mission to the "hacked off" one, where we are all given gifts by the Lord and Lady, and the priest's gift was a sword that became his "bond weapon" (a sword he could use better than any other). It had magical powers, including the ability to summon a few different creatures; the usual list: wolf, dire something-or-other, bear, and...(for comic relief)...sperm whale.
So, we reach the orc capital (this was the end of our campaign), I climb-sneak up the wall and snipe a few guards (playing a drow assassin named Lingus, but that's a different story), he does the Shatterstrike thing on the gates and they go flying, we sack the capital and end up facing the Big Bad Orc Uber-Chieftan of Doom(tm).
The DM was a bit too much of the "storyteller" type, and tended to usually figure out the path she wanted the characters to take through the story, and got all bent out of shape if we went "off the reservation". She had decided that the priest was going to fight the Big Bad Orc Uber-Chieftan of Doom(tm) with the sword instead of his mace. Her rationale was that his god, Tempus, was testing him and wanted to see if he was worthy while deprived of the use of his favorite weapon.
So, the fighter ended up down (on a highly questionable critical-hit from a baddie right before this battle), I ended up Feared and hiding (another dubious call), and the other characters were similarly indisposed. This was the priest's moment.
So, he pulls out his mace and attempts to charge up a Shatterstrike. Nothing. It's not even glowing. At this point, it might as well be a non-magical mace. The priest is good, but he's not THAT good. This guy will wipe the floor with him. So, he puts the mace away, pulls out the sword, and the DM smiles, about to see her pre-written ending come to fruition.
He points the sword in the air and shouts "summon sperm whale", indicating it should appear right over the Uber-Chieftan's head, 100 feet up.
*pop*, FOOMP, squish. Raw ingredients for a feast of whale meat all over the ground, seasoned with orc blood.
The DM chased us out of her house and it was a year before she started another campaign with us. Her husband, the fighter, never heard the end of it. |
