Woah, OP here. I dunno what happened from last story and now at all. Anyhow, latest story has to do with D&D 3.0.
The setting was Ravenloft, and the characters were all sorts of heroes summoned from around their worlds for a dark purpose. Or, whatever. Now, the DM had his own Ravenloft campaign in mind, apparently stemming heavily from Loecraft. (Giant tentacles in the sky, being driven mad, ect.) Everyone is level seven in the game, even Oscar. He's a level 7 commoner.
Now, I made the oop vow when I joined that I would be the longest living character, but I never would have DREAMED that it would come through quite the way it did. We came up to a fountain deep in the first dungeon, for example, and the party begins to discuss what to do as I toke up. Now, there's an undead guy in the group, and he's getting fed up that I've been snacking and hiding from the undead we've been fighting, so he demands I taste the water first. He's a cleric, and he can rez me. I look skeptically at the water, which the DM describes as "curiously opaque." I take a drink, and it refills my health. Undead quickly pushes me aside and takes a big drink, because he's hurt bad, and explodes into flame. Looks like holy water from a long dead god still works on you, motherfucker.
The only real good other highpoint in the game was near the end. The necromancer turned out to be the miller, and so a big showdown happens in the flour mill, culminating with a me running upstairs to get out of the way of the necromancer, who has started to turn into a huge tentacled blob, a la G virus. Anyhow, I'm on the third floor, and I'm watching the carnage curiously over the edge as I light my blunt with a torch. I look down the the big tentacled monster smashing open flour sacks everywhere, and I get an idea. "Hey, so, there's dust everywhere downstairs, right?"