Or, Why You Never Assume it's Assumed.
Well, we'll start out with a true story from the grand old days of Crap D&D. Jesse was DM, I was an elven thief, Chase and Travis were along, one a human fighter, the other an elven ranger. Don't remember which was which at the moment.
So, there we are, continuing along with Jesse's stupid campaigns around his mysterious and useless Orb of Nate. We're in a large city, and we need to steal something from a church. Using my brilliant mind, I manage to figure out the item is probably in the roof, and decide to climb up to the roof to try and find a way in. Travis had quit by then, and Chase was at the Inn.
Me: I want to climb the wall.
Jesse: Do you want to use your grappling hook?
Chase: Yes.
Me: No.
Jesse: Your grappling hook clatters on the roof, alerting the guards, who then come swarming out to-
Me: No! I said no! He's in the stupid Inn, he couldn't do it! No!
Jesse: ...Too bad. It happened.
Me: Dude, you suck as DM.
Okay, first campaign Jesse ever DM'd, this was what he decided to do: the only way to move the plot along was to sleep in the Inn.
I spend an hour, wandering around town, and finally give up. And once I do, I find out what he was doing. I wanted to reach over and slap him upside the head.
I'm not playing the game so I can not play it.
Okay, so once we get through his sleeping, the pirate adventure, and the sinking lifeboat (Look, I could have kept the 20 swords and just tossed gold over to survive!) we return to land, and the priest we saved rewards us with: The Orb of Nate.
It was shortly after this that Travis left. Which sucks, because the meeting before we leave, he starts whinning about these items that I have, so I let him have them. And then he leaves, his character taking them with him! Can you say jerk? I mean, jeez, if you're going to quit: Don't take stuff from the other players!
Anyway, shortly after he leaves, me and Chase quit, sickened by the whole stupidity of Jesse and everything he's doing. At least, that's why I left. And still, even though we'll never play again, he refuses to tell me what the Orb of Nate does. I don't think he knows. I think he's just being a big-time a-hole.
An Orb of Nate Update!
Okay, so I told this story to Locke, who then asked Jesse what it does.
His response: "So he's recruited you, huh?"
Yes, when talking to a beautiful girl, I'm subverting her to my cause of finding out what an obscure relic in a stupid D&D game ran by an idiot of a DM does. That's it exactly. I've been found out. Drats.
Yeah. right. The only one who really cares is Jesse. I'm just curious. But if he wants to be a jackhole, let him. See if I care. Because, to tell you the truth, I don't. The Orb of Nate could make fondue for all I care.
DM: "After successfully bringing the ingredients together, the Orb of Nate hums to life, shooting forth a white light at the bottle of wine and block of cheese. As the light dims, it leaves only a great bowl of fondue in its wake."
Player: "Fondue? Freakin' fondue? What the hell, man?"
DM: "It's a +4 to your Charisma for 2d4 turns!"
So, I love D&D so much, I decide to see if I can start my own group. Put a big ad up here, and slap a notice in my Xanga site. And what do I get? A big, fat, nothin'. Nadda.
Offered a few personal ones, haven't heard back. I think that it's very ironic. I love D&D, and desperately want to play. I have some stuff of my own, and access to my Uncle's, who moved to just down the road. All these resources, but I'm missing the most important: Players.
It's a travesty.