The Ballad of Sir Garner

This is the story of Sir Steven Garner; A bizarre man who met an even more baffling end deep in the deserts of a faraway land. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This story begins with a player named Gustav. A childhood friend of mine and by far the one who’s played at my table the longest, he always takes detailed notes and rarely misses a session. A great player in every regard except one:

His characters are all completely ridiculous.

A few examples of his mind-boggling ideas follow: a halfling who can’t breathe air and has to wear a fishbowl around his head, a warlock granted magical powers in exchange for cooking dinner for one of the sandworms from Dune, and one character who was just Claptrap from the Borderlands franchise. That last one was for a sci-fi horror game, by the way. Finally, here’s the backstory for his bugbear nobleman, Torrakk:

Noble dude “loved” and “adored” by everyone his whole life (they were forced to do it). He’s determined to marry off his pet ferret named X, but he realizes that to win the female ferret over, he needs the fanciest hat. He sets off with his trusted pet human (ferret caretaker) to find the fanciest hat in the lands. Outside of his kingdom people aren’t as kind or attracted to him, he easily get into fights. Anyone of low status is in risk of getting a fist to the face if they slight him. The pet lives in his hat, and is cared for by his pet servant.

Torrakk was created for Curse of Strahd. The campaign, for whatever reason, never got off the ground. So color me surprised when he shows up to Enter the Hollow with a straightforward martial artist named Maui. Tastefully inspired by Polynesian culture, Maui was a tall, muscular, broad-shouldered man covered in tattoos, wielding a spear and shield. Could it be that Gustav had finally started taking the game seriously, respecting the tone of the campaign? I was skeptical. We’d played together for several years at this point and not once did he make a serious character. Did Maui have some secret ridiculous gimmick I was unaware of? Was he going to become some sort of strange multiclass that could jump into the stratosphere at level three? As it turns out, no. When the game began it became apparent that Maui was actually a pretty normal guy. Sure, the first thing he did was to get knocked out by a moose but other than that he didn’t get up to anything too ridiculous. I felt good about the campaign. It was going to be dramatic and exciting now that everyone took it seriously.

Three sessions in Maui died. I guess he was just too good to be true. A combination of poor decisions and bad luck led to his early demise at the hands of a fearsome banshee. Oh well, it happens. Was Gustav’s next character going to be just as well thought-out and tonally appropriate? Of course not. Enter Sir Steven Garner, or Steve, a noble human knight turned into a freaky green lizardman by an evil mage. Steve was rather self-conscious about his reptilian predicament and didn’t want anyone to find out. How, might you ask, does one manage to conceal the fact that one is covered in green scales and looks nothing like a human? Steve’s solution was to simply keep his heavy armor and helm on. At all times. Even while sleeping. Even in the public bathhouse. And of course, Steve was something of a silly goose in general. There was an incident where, the party having won an item they needed, Steve declared that he’d like to duel for the item instead. Duel against a character who looked like an even buffer version of Maui. Very well, a duel was set up and Steve, not being at full hit points, was instantly knocked out. Thus the party did not get the item they needed, despite already having won it. How inspirational, Steve. You saw a chance to lose and you took it.

Later in the campaign, the party was making their way through a kobold-infested series of caves. Brave Sir Garner took the lead and the lantern, scouting ahead for traps. Or rather, didn’t. He simply sauntered right into them. Every single one. Spotting a hole in the cave ceiling, Steve stepped forth and shone the lantern upwards, giving him an excellent view of the boulders and various sharp objects being dropped right on his head. Good thing he was wearing a helm, I guess. The party decided to revoke Steve’s lantern privileges effective immediately. Of course, someone as crafty as Steve doesn’t need a lantern to see in the dark. He’d later discover a magical glaive that, besides dealing extra damage, cast a faint blue glow to illuminate its surroundings. Being a sword guy Steve had no use for a glaive. He took it to a blacksmith and had the confused metalworker attach the blade to his helm. Steve was now walking around with a large glowing polearm blade on top of his helm. The helm he would never take off. If sleeping was difficult before, imagine how much worse it would get with the constant glow of the glaive.

Steve’s final act of unhinged tomfoolery would happen shortly after the party ventured into a vast desert in search of something or other. The party did a fine job of dealing with the extreme heat. Except Steve who was exhausted due to, you guessed it, still being clad in full plate armor. Suddenly the group spotted an enormous bird of prey rapidly closing in on them. It was a roc and it was hungry. They all readied their weapons and braced for battle. Except Steve of course. Steve decided to be (and I’m being very generous with the term here) smart. He removed his shield, stuck his sword in the sand, and dropped into a squat to make himself as small as possible. As the massive bird approached, Steve just sat there like an oversized meatball. His idea was that if he didn’t look threatening the bird would ignore him. Of course, the roc wasn’t there to pick a fight. It was there to eat. Surprise surprise, it went for the easiest target of all. The attack hit and Steve was carried away in the giant talons of the roc. The situation quickly turned dire as the hungry winged menace made his getaway at an incredible speed. Despite his strength, Steve couldn’t seem to break free. His only hope was to hurt the bird as much as he could and pray to the dice gods that it would let him go.

Looking back at his friends far off in the distance, he saw the sunlight reflecting off his sword, reminding him that he was, in fact, completely unarmed. Thinking quickly, Steve noticed that the only sharp object he had left was the glaive blade welded to his helm. But he wasn’t going to take his helm off, oh no. Steve never takes his armor off. Not even when his life depends on it. (It should be noted at this point that everyone present knew he had been turned into a giant lizard, so keeping his steel disguise on served little purpose.) Helm still on, he planned to channel his inner metalhead and headbang the bird to death. After repeatedly waving his noggin at the roc like a mad cockatoo, and with the help of a few long-range spells from the group’s wizard, the gargantuan bird eventually died. Steve fell a few hundred feet out of the sky, landing in the dunes with a muted thud. The party rushed to help him. They would be able to get to him in time just fine unless, of course, he’d proceed to fail every single death saving throw.

He then proceeded to fail every single death saving throw. So it goes. A ridiculous end for a ridiculous character. I was really trying to pull my punches there at the end but the dice were not merciful on that fateful day. For some reason, Gustav’s characters were the only ones to die in this campaign. All four of them. All for silly reasons. The character after Steve was, somehow, even more ridiculous. But that’s a story for another time.