DnD Story #153 – Hurty Harry, the Centaur Cowboy


5
5 points

So, I’ve been banned from a number of dnd games. Some for good reason, others…
debatable.

I was 19, I had only learned of and started playing off and on about a year ago.
I was a wild mind and trying out some ideas.

I asked the DM what classes and raced he would allow, drew up a character and met up a week later to play.

The party was a dwarf who specialized in warhammer [weapon, but also DM’d  a paper and pencil Dark Heresy on Thursdays] and blacksmithing, an elf mage who essentially used his powers to make the dwarf a portable forge
[their backstory had something to do with a life debt. I forget to whom/whom to]
and a kobold assassin who had crazy good stealth, climb and joined the group under the promise that we let him eat anything we kill.

Then all players look to me. I had been through so many damn ideas, but this, this idea I was certain I would make work.

Me:My name is Hurty Harry. I’m a centaur monk.”

DM: Just a monk? Like, I know you’re new, do you have a specialization?

Me: … Well, I’m a cowboy.

You could guess what everyone’s faces looked like. They asked me if I wanted to explain further, but told them “Harry is the strong, silent type and don’t mince words. He’s here to make money, smoke cigars and squint. He’s saving up to buy his own ranch.

So, yeah. Centaur Cowboy.
Waist down, horse.
Waist up, cowboy.
Only downside is that guns hadn’t been invented, so I just had my trusty lasso, tomahawk and other cowboy essentials. As a monk, I had good skill with a rope, could throw weapons [tomahawk] and had points in unarmed combat. A FUCKING +3 HORSE KICK.

So we all get pushed into our first quest like trying to heard cats and eventually get to our first combat enounter. A band of goblins that had been scounting and raiding the town and plotting an attack. None of us rolled to figure that, but the DM just got excited and blerted it out, so we all played it off like “Oh, yeah, totally”. Guess who had the highest initiative? Me. Guess who rolled a fucking 3? Also me.

Mage casts Elemental Weapon on drawf’s hammer [lightning] and steps back from combat. Dwarf runs as far as his little legs will get him in a single turn and is still 20 feet shy of combat range with his hammer. We’re out in a fucking field, so the kobold is fucked as fuck and just takes off for the nearest tree and curses at us all.

Hurty Harry’s turn.
I roll to discern the highest ranking goblin of the bunch. DM questions my ability to do so. I tell him that as a cowboy, you have to know this kind of shit when dealing with the bulls in a herd, while pointing out that I put 3 points into Knowledge: Cattle drive. He allows it and tells me it’s the farthest one back with the exceptionally long nose.

Me: I pull out my lasso and move close enough to get him.

DM: Okay, ugh fuck, I forgot you’re a monk. Yeah you have movement enough to make close enough and still have an action.

Me: I roll to lasso.

At this point, the group starts realizing that my character wasn’t just some kind of joke, but a streamlined creation. It was all the tactile advantages of riding a horse w/o having to worry about putting points in “handle animal”, “ride” or any of that.

DM: Okay, so what’s your total?

Me: 23

DM: Yeah, you got him. Now the goblin gang’s turn.

Me: I didn’t use my whole movement, so can I just make a little movement?

DM: Uh, I guess. Not much though, just a step or 2.

Me: I turn around, but keep an eye over my shoulder.

I had forgot to mention, I was the youngest person in this group by about 6 or so years. So everyone kind of assumed I’m just some crazy kid.

DM: well, despite facing that way, the goblins are gonna bum rush you. So they move an-“

Kobold” Attack of opportunity.

DM: what?
Me:What?

Kobold: He caught the one in back with his lasso. He didn’t enter their attack range. They just entered his, though. He gets an attack of opportunity.

DM: Okay, yeah, I guess that’s fair.
[group explains this phrase and function to me]

Me: ooooooookay…. I guess I don’t really have my tomahawk out, so I’m gonna full back kick him. Both legs.

DM: Roll to hit.

Me: Nat 18.

DM: Cool. With unarmed combat, you fucking got that. Now roll for damage and add your strength mod.

Dwarf: Plus 2d6 sneak attack damage.

Everyone else: what?

Dwarf: This goblin is approaching a clearly hostile horse creature from behind. Unless you have never encountered a horse or other equine related creature, you don’t fucking do that. Ergo, surprise. I’m gonna argue he gets sneak attack damage.

The DM went quiet for a bit before nodding and confirming that I needed to add 2d6 damage to the total. I’m guessing that if i was as seasoned as the other members, this would not have flown.

Few rolls later, the DM says he’s either dead or unconscious.

Kobold: *laughing hysterically* MAKE THE OTHER GOBLINS MAKE A WIL SAVE!

Group: *grins meniacally and hopefully*

DM: *Furrowed brow* *rolls dice w/o breaking eye contact*

2 pass and 4 fucking book it.

Mage: I’m pretty convinced it’s relatively safe and try to get close enough to help in case things turn.

Dwarf: I run up to the closest one and lay him out.

He rolls a successful hit and the DM eloquately explains how the goblin’s clavical gives way and the snap of lighting from the mage’s spell on it pretty much kills him.

Mage: Harry is a cowboy, so like… has he ever seen magic?

Me: I’m not gonna give out his backstory, but no, not really. Grew up on a ranch.

Mage: *pokerface* WIL save for him to not take off like a startled fucking horse.

The DM looked like he felt he had coddled me a bit with the past few rolls and tells me to roll. Kobold looks over at my character sheet and spits mountain dew out his nose laughing.   Needless to say, I fail terribly.

DM: Your character takes off at double speed back towards town, away from combat.

Mage: *Slaps knee, gasping for air from laughing*

DM: What? He’s gonna run like hell?

Mage: He still has the leader on his lasso and he’s got a movement speed of 60! 120 if he’s full tilt boogie sprinting!

You know those spaghetti western movies when they lasso someone guilty of a crime, tie him to a horse and smack it’s ass? Imagine that horse is moving at the same speed as a skydiver at terminal velocity.

At this point everyone is cracking up and demands we stop for a smoke break.

[8 minutes later]

kobold: Okay, dwarf and mage, I believe you can handle the 1 goblin left. I come down from my tree and start eating the closest body.

DM: Harry, make a WIL roll.

I fail again and kobold is nearly pissing himself laughing.

DM: Yeah, you’re probably gonna just run back to town at this point.

Mage: He’s going 120. How far is town?

DM:*looks at map drawn on on spiral bound paper* Next turn, probably.

Group laughs as they mop up the one last goblin and head back.

DM: As Harry approaches town, winded but otherwise unscathed, a villager sees you and *rolls* … what’s left of the goblin scout leader. They promptly start cheering. More villagers come out and put the collective pieces on pikes on the edge of town.

Rest of group gives me a “the fuck, dude?” look.
DM rubs his forehead in frustration, makes some rolls, has resolution:

>Be me
>Drag the corpse of the enemy into town.
>Not a scratch on me.
>Still have my hat.
>Get elected town sheriff.
>DM makes him an npc.
>Hands me a blank character sheet and says

>>”No centaurs”<<


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