User:Nuke The Earth/The story of That Guy

DISCLAIMER: STRONG LANGUAGE

The Story of That Guy: The First Encounter

I was a newbie. An utter, complete newbie. I didn't know what a 'That Guy' was, or how ability scores worked, or any of that. What I did know, however, was the importance of a well-rounded party, so when I saw that we had no casters whatsoever, I chose to play a Wizard.

This was my first mistake.

In this setting, there is a magical rock that is necessary to cast spells. You spend one rock for each level of spell you want to cast. A Fireball would take three, a Magic Missile only one, etc. Unfortunately, these crystals were balls-to-the-walls expensive, and also highly addictive. The joke that I was a crack wizard inevitably arose.

Having a direct GP cost for each of my spells, I was essentially useless in combat aside from a few very specific long-duration spells, such as Flaming Orb. And that's basically what you need to know about my character.

That Guy joined the group at the same time I did, with what would have been immediately recognizable as your typical EdgeLord prick, if I had had any experience whatsoever. Rogue, aloof from the party, doesn't give a flying fuck about any other PCs, tries to co-opt every single session to be entirely about them. It got bad enough that several long-time players in that group quit for a time, and it was only me, That Guy, and the utterly tortured DM.

Eventually That Guy got bored of his character and stopped playing for a bit, and much rejoicing was had. The group powered through the last bit of plot necessary to unlock the end of the campaign, and we started fighting through a demiplane gauntlet of increasingly-powerful demonic and fiendish enemies.

We're mopping our way through a horde of mooks, and I have a Flaming Orb positioned to cut the remainder of them in half on their next turn, when out of nowhere, That Guy comes in with his new character, stealing no less than a dozen kills from me in a massive sorcerous Fireball.

I am understandably incredibly pissed off by this blatant kill-stealing, and the DM notices something off about the claimed save DC on that fireball - somewhere above 20, and for a character no higher than level 10. Turns out they'd "minmaxed" their CHA score to something above 20, claiming it was balanced because their INT was 3 (never mind that they'd be a gibbering mess in a diaper if that were the case).

Arguments commence, session ends, everyone is grumpy and pissed. We reconvene next week.

Dm fast-forwards us to the end fight because he's got college in like a week and can't DM anymore after that. We thrash the boss to hell in a single surprise-attack round, instakilling it, and are informed OOC that, presumably due to That Guy's rampant fuckery, we missed several key plot points and the plane that we used to be in was utterly annihilated.

So there we were, in the ass-end of an unanchored demiplane, with no way to produce rations or water. DM rules we're all going to starve to death, probably, and the campaign ends- "BUT WAIT" That Guy shouts, "I have Fey Ancestry, and can teleport myself and up to 6 others to the Feywild!" Alright, we think, so our characters might get out of this alive- "NOPE!" shouts That Guy, "MY character doesn't even know your guy's characters. He doesn't give a damn about you, and so he teleports himself, and only himself!"

Well, fuck.

To this day I like to imagine he popped up right in the middle of a fey court, who promptly executed him in the most painful way possible for the insult. It would serve him right.

Anyhow, he somehow managed to stick around for the next campaign, in which the DM randomly rolled and assigned classes and races. That Guy was stuck as a Cleric, and boy did he hate every second of it. Of course that didn't stop him from trying to piss off an entire Orcish war camp, get stuck in a duel with the Chief, and get utterly and completely creamed because no other PC wanted to help him.

That is almost the end of our tale, but not quite. When we made it to the city, That Guy acted like a total and complete asshat to the city guards, almost getting him tossed in jail then and there. The guards were willing to leave it be if he paid a fine, though, but he utterly refused to do so, claiming that it was the party's responsibility to pay for his bail.

Our most veteran player promptly pulled the entire fine from That Guy's pockets and paid it in full, wiping out his savings almost entirely. That Guy screamed and whined about it, because how dare he have to actually face the consequences of his own actions, and left to sulk for a very long time.

We got on with the plot, and the only other time we heard from him was to see that he'd left the group entirely.

After that, it shaped up to be one of the greatest campaigns I'd ever had.