Friday 18 June 2010

Dickass DM

Remember good, old-fashioned gamebooks? They promised all the fun of a role-playing game, with none of the social interaction - what more could an teenage boy desire? The thing is, that while the gamebook became a great gaming experience in its own right, the only RPG it could possibly have simulated was one being GM'd by Satan himself. 90% of decisions led to certain death, and combat was often fatal.

Satan wasn't available, so Brad will be GMing Rob through an RPG based on the classic Ian Livingstone Fighting Fantasy gamebook Armies of Death.

Previously on Armies of Death: Rich and stupid adventurer General Braggart has raised an army to march forward and destroy the forces of Shagglax the Shadow SDemon. After a couple of strange and violent encounters, he has discovered a bizarre pet shop. A thin, bearded old man is sitting on a stool behind a wooden counter talking to a large crow, perched on his hand.

Brad is the GM, and Rob plays his character, General Braggart.

Read Part One Here
Read Part Two Here

Crow: Who's an ugly boy, then?

Brad: The old man appears unconcerned at your entrance; you look round the shop and see many small animals - cats, birds and small rodents - and also other, strange creatures. There is one that sits up on its two hind legs like a kangaroo, but it is less than two feet tall and is green and lacks fur. Another is a small winged creature with leathery amber skin; it seems quite content to fly from one side of the shop to the other. This is almost as bizarre as the exotic pet shop in Canterbury. Which had penguins for a while. And a fruit bat.
Rob: Penguins?!
Brad: Yup.
Rob: Awesome!
Brad: I swing by every now and again because the guy there is literally insane. He had a Texan Rattlesnake once.
Rob: Terrifying.
Brad: Other creatures are equally odd and you are standing looking at them in amazement when the old man suddenly says:

Old Man: You are fascinated by my pets, are you not?
General Braggart: I am...not...not fascinated.
Old Man: Are you interested in buying one of them? I have both household pets and familiars that can talk. Some are very special indeed and can even create a little magic. You look like an adventurer to me, so I presume it may be a familiar that you require.
General Braggart: Something familiar would be better...
Old Man: Would you like to buy a talking familiar such as my crow here, or would you like a special creature?
General Braggart: How much is the crow?
Old Man: I'm sure you'll find this crow very good company. His name is Billy, and he even understands the odd word in Orcish. Ten Gold Pieces is an absolute bargain for such a fine crow, if I say so myself.

Rob: Buy it. I was expecting a more expensive price, that's a good deal.
Brad: After pocketing your gold, the old man hands the crow to you.

Old Man: Now, Billy, I want you to be a good friend to your new owner.

Brad: With the crow perched on your shoulder, you leave the shop. As soon as you are outside, the old man locks the door and hangs a CLOSED sign up in the window. You walk off down the street and decide to talk to your new pet.

General Braggart: Did I just buy his only item of stock? I feel bad now.

Brad: You ask the crow to suggest somewhere interesting to go.
Rob: This is where I find out he's a perv.
Brad: Billy suddenly flies off your shoulder, circles above you and squawks:
Rob: 'Rawwwk - titty bar!'?

Billy: Darkwood Forest! See you there!

Brad: Then he squawks again loudly, as though laughing, and flies up into the sky, disappearing beyond the rooftops of Zengis. Suddenly angry, you run back to the shop and hammer on the door, but there is no reply.

Sir McSpindle: Douche.

Brad: Annoyed at your own stupidity for buying the crow, you set off down the street. Further along, you come to another shop.

General Braggart: Are we just ignoring the crow? Fair enough...

Brad: Yeah, fuck the crow.
Rob: Stupid Brandon Lee.
Brad: The window is full of old things, all piled on top of another: boxes, tins, clothes, tools, pottery, carvings and curious are all heaped up like a pile of jumble. A pawnbroker's sign, somewhat the worse for wear, hangs above the door.
Rob: Pornbroker? This is where that crow went. Enter the shop
Brad: After porn, huh?
Rob: Well, a life at sea is probably lonely...
Brad: Just you and a thousand muscley men...Inside the shop you are greeted by a friendly old woman who calls herself Bonny.
Rob: Is she now?

Bonny: Have a look around, there's a price on everything you can see.

Rob: Is there a price on her?
Brad: Not a visible one. Two of the walls are lined with shelves from floor to ceiling; they are crammed with more junk collected over the years, most of it covered with a thick layer of dust. You cast your eye along the shelves and pull out several things which may be of interest, each with its own price tag.

Brass Owl - 10GP
Copper Lantern - 5 GP
Helmet - 10 GP
Ivory Box - 5GP
Green Vase - 20 GP

Rob: What does the Brass owl do?
Brad: I don't know. Whatever it does, it's got to be better value for money than the crow. Do you want to buy anything?
Rob: Can I buy everything? That's only 50 GP.
Brad: If you can afford it. Is that what you want to do?
Rob: Yeah, Commerce FTW.
Brad: You take your purchases, pay Bonny and leave. You arrive at an old building which looks like a barn, with large wooden doors at the front. A man is standing in front of the doors and there is much shouting and cheering coming from inside the building. You step towards the entrance, but the man bars your way.

Man: Pie eating competition. Five gold pieces to go in, and then you can join in the competition against Big Belly Man if you think you can out eat him.
General Braggart: I skipped lunch, but that name sounds ominous...
Man: Mind you, nobody ever has, I think I should tell you.

Rob: Walk on.
Brad: Fuck you plot hook!
Rob: It can't be the main story!
Brad: On your left you see an alleyway, at the bottom of which is a pile of barrels.
Rob: I investigate the alleyway.
Brad: Walking down the alley, you tread on an iron grate. As you pass over it, the grate suddenly flies into the air and two ugly brown creatures scramble out of the tunnel beneath the grate. Covered in warts and dripping in sewage, two foul-smelling Sewer Goblins, armed with spiked clubs, run forward to ambush you.

General Braggart: Finally, a real fight! Well, as real as Sewer Goblins get I suppose.


The first goblin approaches
You photocopy its face.

Rob: Xerox'd!

You dress up as Chun-Li and do a spinning bird kick.
You dress up as Chun-Li and threaten his sexuality.
First Sewer Goblin is defeated.

Rob: That'll do it.

The second Sewer Goblin approaches.
You borrow the Goblin's pen, and forget to give it back.

Rob: Ha! And I've got my own pen as well!

You tell him a really long-winded story about the time you once met either Hale or Pace, you can't remember, and could never really tell them apart anyway.
The second Sewer Goblin is defeated.

Rob: Yeah, that story does a lot of people in.
Brad: You find nothing of interest on the bodies of the Sewer Goblins. Nothing!!!
Rob: Dammit. Inspect barrels
Brad: You can use pronouns with me, you know.
Rob: I know. I just figured it'd be quicker.
Brad: First two barrels examine empty. See how you like it...
Rob: Okay, and others?
Brad: The third has a piece of cold sacking covering it; before you can even touch it, however, a squeaky man's voice shouts out from inside.

Voice: Go away! Leave me alone!
General Braggart: A talking barrel! Do you sing?!
Voice: Can't a body get a decent afternoon nap these days?
General Braggart: It’s the morning!

Rob: I pull back the sacking to see who is inside the barrel.
Brad: You pull back the sacking and are confronted by a small man, no more than three feet tall; he is dressed in bright green clothes and is curled up inside the barrel.
Rob: ...Yoda?
Brad: He glares up at you with an angry expression. He has an odd-shaped hat on his head that appears to be held in place by his long pointed ears.

Man: Put the cover back! I'm warning you!
General Braggart: Or what?

Brad: Then, as if from nowhere, a rotten tomato hits you in the face. As you stand there with bits of tomato dripping off your chin, the small man begins to laugh.
Rob: I can't think of being hit by a rotten tomato without thinking about movie ratings now...Attack!
Brad: Are you sure?
Rob: Yeah, he pissed me off, I was acting kayfabe. I've been known to do that.
Brad: Only a foolish adventurer would attack a Leprechaun. Before you can even raise your arm to strike a blow, the Leprechaun tosses some magic dust in your face. You are instantly paralysed - the only part of your body that you can move is your eyes; but you still have your sense.
Rob: W....T....F?
Brad: For the next half-hour you are stuck rigid to the spot and forced to listen to a long lecture from the Leprechaun on how absolutely wrong it is to attack defenceless people. Still preferable to playing Infernal: Hell's Vengeance, though, right?
Rob: Totally.
Brad: When the lecture is finally over, the Leprechaun starts to rummage through your backpack and pockets.
Rob: Oh motherfucker!
Brad: He doesn't find anything of interest to him, and shrugs.

Leprechaun: Now, let that be a lesson to you.
General Braggart: What, you telling me off and then not stealing anything? I'll live.

Brad: Another half-hour passes and the paralysis starts to wear off.
Rob: I climb into the sewer. What happened to that leprachaun then?
Brad: He climbed down into the sewer with a box marked "Front Towards Enemy", I think. You climb down a metal-runged ladder that is secured to the side of the wall, until you reach the sewer below. The foul stench rising from the sludge that is flowing slowly by makes you heave.
Rob: Blurgh...
Brad: Looking down the sewer you see what appears to be the flickering flame of a candle and you can just hear the sound of a whispering voice. You are convinced that there must be more Sewer Goblins ahead.
Rob: I walk down the sewer. I needs some bloodshed.

Brought to you from the twisted mind of Warren Speed, Zombie Women of Satan combines everything you would want in a classic B Movie picture with plenty of semi-clad zombie girls, belly laughs galore and buckets of blood and guts.

When a group of nightclub performers arrive on a remote farm for a cable interview, they soon discover the dark secret of the family residents who have been kidnapping and torturing gorgeous young women as part of a perverted cult. However, the families experiments have backfired and the stocking clad women have now become ravenous zombies.

Thanks to our friends at Revolver Entertainment, we've got three copies of Zombie Women of Satan to give away! For your chance of winning one, send us an e-mail to with your name and postal address before midday on Friday 25th June (UK time). The first three names drawn out of the electronic hat will win a free copy!

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