“Don’t worry,” they said.

“He’ll be just fine,” they said.

“With all these extra magical foci, there’s no way the ritual will go wild and consume your puppy’s life force.”

Well the Titanic was supposed to be unsinkable too, you guys. And Patches the Unkicked is no Titanic. Poor little guy is hardly an S.S. Minnow. So while I’m unsure what kind of leverage Demon Queen has on Antipaladin, no early termination fee could be too high!

Anyhow, I guess this means that Paladin and Antipaladin both have some job hunting to do. But as the dust settles on this Unhallowed Rite, let’s turn our collective attention toward the real issue here: Knowing when to quit an unhealthy campaign.

Many years have passed since I last had to pull the plug on a game. It was so long ago in fact that I’d never even heard of Pathfinder. I couldn’t have told you the difference between an OSR and a BAB. I thought that Vampire: The Masquerade was the hot new thing, and I worried that owning three sets of dice might be a bit extravagant. I was well and truly noob you guys, but I had been thrown into the deep end.

“This is going to be an epic 3.5 campaign,” they said.

“We’ll help you build your character,” they said.

“With all us experienced players to help out, there’s no way that piloting a 20th-level PC will consume your life force.”

And honestly you guys? I was motivated. I put in the hours to learn about psionic fisting, relying on some size-altering shenanigans to flurry of blows at colossal size. My character was based on the old dude from Gremlins, and I was scrupulously polite to all the world’s NPCs despite my the ludicrous power level. I remember being particularly proud of my creative spell usage, turning my telepathic abilities to Unbreakable style psychometry during an investigation. All these years later and, with the benefit of experience, I still think I was pretty good for a noob. Imagine my chagrin when none of my attacks could get through the super golems’ DR 50/- in our first combat encounter.

“Don’t worry about it,” said the multiclass monstrosity with the greatsword. “I’ve got this one.” Then he proceeded to hit for ~200 damage per swing.

That was frustrating, but it wasn’t the breaking point. That came when we got to the first dungeon chamber. It was one of those anti-magic puzzles, with OBVIOUS TRAP covering the floor and only one exit on the far side. We couldn’t fly over. We couldn’t teleport past. What was a party of demigods to do?

“I grow to Size Colossal,” I said. “Since my guy is psionic, the anti-magic shouldn’t matter. And even if the perfectly-smooth walls are normally unclimbable, I should be able to brace myself between the opposite walls like climbing a chimney. The rest of the party can just stand on my back and avoid the sure-to-kill-us floor sludge.”

The DM’s brow furrowed. Books were consulted. “Nope,” he said at length. “The rules say that bracing only reduces the DC by 10. Infinity minus 10 is still infinity.”

To this day I remain unconvinced about this ruling. Maybe I’m just salty, and maybe the competitors on Ninja Warrior are higher level than my psionic master. I left that campaign shortly thereafter though, citing my “unfamiliarity with the rules.”

What about the rest of you guys though? Have you ever been obliged to quit a campaign? What were the circumstances, and what was the straw that broke the camel’s back? Tell us all about your own not-so-epic experiences down in the comments!


ARE YOU THE KIND OF DRAGON THAT HOARDS ART? Then you’ll want to check out the “Epic Hero” reward level on our Handbook of Heroes Patreon. Like the proper fire-breathing tyrant you are, you’ll get to demand a monthly offerings suited to your tastes! Submit a request, and you’ll have a personalized original art card to add to your hoard. Trust us. This is the sort of one-of-a-kind treasure suitable to a wyrm of your magnificence.