God, I miss that character!
I took him from level one to fifteen the hard way. I would scrounge for every experience point while Neverwas, the Dungeon Master, handed them out to good boys and girls like they were M&Ms. Unfortunately for me his version of a good boy and girl was someone who worshiped his Nameless One and followed his storyline to the letter. I was never very good like that, nor was the Master Planner, Kid Icarus, or Step-up. Instead we tended to look for trouble and confront it.
Our gains were incremental for a long time till we started encountering enemies that no one else wanted to face. Dragons, liches, devils, and demons; they all fell before us. And we leveled. Slowly, steadily, we leveled.
It was by confronting trouble that we were able to advance in level. Kid Icarus, Master Planner and I were always at the lead of every outing. We killed 90% of all the creatures we faced until Step-up joined the expedition at which time we began to kill 95%. No matter what Neverwas threw at us we were able to survive. A monk, a barbarian, a ranger, and a rogue standing outside a twelve man party and killing everything that crossed us. We roll played as well as anyone else at the table. But while Poot and Baby Mamma would be awarded a thousand experience points at a time we were given bread crumbs. 152 experience points, 75 experience points, 295 experience points. Our gains were incremental for a long time till we started encountering enemies that no one else wanted to face. Dragons, liches, devils, and demons; they all fell before us. And we leveled. Slowly, steadily, we leveled.
Master Planner died first, then Step-up.
Still we adventured on. Across the multitude of bastardized planes and into the Hells we went. There everyone died - except for me and Kid Icarus. We had fought together for nearly a year and a half, two sessions a week averaging four hours each. When things went south we survived.
Neverwas stopped running that night and James Spinoza was retired - alive.