Tales

I Have A Plan

Posted on September 27, 2017

I was part of a group where one character was vastly overpowered compared to the rest of us—a weretiger Monk, who could easily have taken out all of us within a few turns. The rest of the party consisted of a Human Fighter wielding a flaming greatsword, a Dwarf Barbarian whose armor had so many spikes and barbs he was essentially a weapon, a Half-Elf Rogue who was more circus acrobat than lethal, and a Human Cleric who was geared to only heal.

After many adventures we found a magic lamp, and were each granted a single wish. After each member wished for weapons, stat points and the like, it came to the Monk, who wished to hit like a mountain. The wish was granted in the form of a one-use gauntlet which would increase his strength and damage based on a d100 percentage die.

During the next adventure, we had to sneak into a fortress to open the gates for the army we were currently hired as sellswords for. After a few days of the Rogue scoping the place out, the Monk got impatient, and before turning into a man-tiger yelled out to the party and troops, "I HAVE PLAN!"

Using his incredible speed and dexterity in his weretiger form, he reached the gate without getting hit by the dozens of archers, then performed a leaping punch at the front gates. As the gauntlet he’d wished for was still on his hand, its one-time effect took place. Here’s how the scene played out:

DM: Do you still have your Wrath of the Mountain gauntlet on?

Monk: Given how smart Bulg (the monk) is, he wouldn't have taken it off.

DM: What's your strength?

Monk: In weretiger form, 24.

DM: Roll me a d100.

*rolls* 100.

DM looked down in shock at the dice, then at his notes, then back at the dice. He closed his book and looked at the group. "In the distance you see Bulg leap to the door, swinging his gauntleted fist which suddenly glows as bright as a sun. With a flash, his fist hits the gate. The earth itself shakes, sending everyone off their feet. Where the fortress was you see only billowing clouds of dirt and dust with occasional rocks landing halfway between it and the camp. The shaking lasts for almost an entire minute before it finally stops.

“As the dust settles, you find the fortress is gone, and the countryside is blasted for as far as you can see with debris. A crater is now in its place, starting from where the gate used to be and several hundred feet deep. At its edge stand Bulg. The remains of his gauntlet crumbles down off his hand and disintegrates before hitting the ground."

With that, the DM started gathering up his things. "That's it for tonight. I need to go home and start planning where to take the game from here."

Turns out the fortress was the lynchpin in his new campaign. Oops.

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