I was gonna write a post about how much of a blast I had over the holidays, how Jason and Eric pretty much hooked me on Marvel: Ultimate Alliance, how much I find myself missing Indianapolis and such, but I have been officially pissed off, so I'm gonna vent a bit.
Let me set the stage.
For those of you who are D&D conscious, we were in Forgotten Realms. The main enemies were demons and undead, so I made a fighter who I was gearing to be an undead fighter. Went with the standard fantasy origin of having his village razed by an undead cult. Weaved a tragic tale of his wife being turned into a vampire and all the children of the village being abducted. Think the Punisher, D&D style, in terms of personality.
At any rate, the longer the game went on, the more I wondered why my character would travel with the rest of the group. At one point, we were in a dungeon and I fell into a pit trap with one of the other characters, a duskblade. There were two gargoyles in the trap. He proceeded to turn invisible, which caused the gargoyles to start letting loose with sonic attacks. He then climbed out and left me there, which I barely survived.
This is indicative of the behavior of pretty much the entire group. Everybody was out for themselves in some way or other. Even Liam, my character, was motivated by revenge. Everybody else seemed to motivated by money or the promise of treasure, especially the rogue who would routinely sneak off to find loot so he could get ahold of it and not tell anyone. Mike calls the attitude, "All for one and more for me."
Anyway, the last session I actually played in, I went to meet my mentor and found him and his house servants gruesomely murdered at the hands of vampires. We then found a cache of weapons designed to fight undead, but I had to leave for work before they could be divided.
I wasn't able to attend the next session, so per my instructions, my character was ghosted by another player. That night, I received an email informing me that my character was dead. The party had an encounter with some infected zombies and I had been fatally wounded, raised as a zombie and the party was forced to kill me again. This didn't upset me quite so much as being asked what my character had on him for purposes of party loot.
Now, I don't know about you, but when a comrade dies in a game I'm playing, I don't start picking his stuff off his corpse. So I was a bit galled.
This was mid-December. Tonight, I got an email from one of the players basically demanding to know what I had on me and that he wasn't going to go through previous emails to look because "someone feels like being lazy".
I choked back my anger and reminded him that I had not been there when the weapons were divided up and that the character was dead and I had therefore washed my hands of him.
He sent an email back saying that was no excuse, that we played as a team (which I found laughable) and that maybe if I had kept track of the weapons my character would still be alive.
That pretty much sealed the deal for me. An RPG is supposed to be fun. I don't like playing with a group with no real cohesion, I don't like being the only person in a group with principles and I certainly don't like being harangued over the possessions of a character of mine that died, especially when the death was not my fault.
I honestly want to run my own game, but somehow I don't see that happening anytime soon.