I'm a D&D Dungeon-master (3.5 Version) and usually every Saturday we have a session at my house. One of the players, my 'lovely' brother, (of 21 years old mind you) has become with the age rotten and arrogant. (Age does wonders to wine, not to people).
The result is that conversation with him are as if he were fifteen years old or less.
Now, a bit of a background:
I am of the idea that characters can grow by going through hardships, and that by displaying their inner character most of the time, they should be rewarded adequately.
My brother's idea of playing is making a new character sheet every day and coming up with new 'Fantastic!' ways of using a barbarian with twin giant chains.
(Goliath)
And when there aren't battles (in which he still does nothing anyway) he jests around with phrases like:
"I try and grapple with the ceiling so that I can swing from one side to the other!"
"He offends me, so I kill him." "You're Good!" "Well then now I'm not."
But a few days ago, he came up with the final way that clearly showcases just how he treats my sessions.
Our foolhardy group enters a Drow rain water cistern situated within a ravine, the ceiling crumbles and they are 'trapped' within it. They may now explore the surrounding areas (and possibly a passage to the underworld) or try and find a way out of there.
The group advances easily, picking up a few magical items, a cursed cup 'of ruin' that attaches itself to one of the rogues in the party, and then reaches by taking a wrong turn the underground and from there proceed to get lost while fighting a couple of giant cave spiders and Cwdhena (or how it's written, anyway, monster!)
They find the entrance to a Dwarf Fortress (Winks) and open up the door through a secret lever. The next moment they enter and standing in front of them are two doors, and a gold and silver shield affixed to the wall which depicts a dwarf slicing the throat of a seal (winks again at DF). The problem arises when, after the two thieves claim that there are no traps, and that the shield is worth well in the 50000 gold coins, the Goliath decides to take it out from the wall.
He hears a sound 'clack' coming from the wall, and investigating it without removing the shield, realizes there is a sort of mechanism primed to the shield in question. (A metallic Hook) the moment passes with the thieves telling him 'LEAVE IT THERE, FOR GOD'S SAKE LEAVE IT THERE' and in the end the Goliath takes the shield out, the hooks retracts into the wall and with whirring noises and the likes, the traps are engaged.
Then the Goliath puts the shield, (Tower shield) on to try it.
Shield of Avarice, Cursed Item, may be removed by sacrificing 100000 Platinum coins or coming to term with one's own actions and accepting its consequences.
And here we begin the tale of said goliath, of INT 15 and WIS 13, who decides that no, he will remove that shield from his arm at all costs...because...
"I AM RIGHT AND THIS IS BAD, ME REMOVES!" *the tone of voice is that of a seven years old please*
"No, I don't want this, so i'm going to remove it no matter what."
In the end the goliath goes back to the entrance, where the dwarven fortress door is after all a portcullis of steel, and starts to open and close the door to 'mold the shield'. Of course magic, RD 30, the shield doesn't even suffer a dent.
The noises attract a patrol of drows, and the Goliath relents, returning to where the other were asleep and waking them up (Thus preventing the ranger from being able to cast his spells for the new day to come, of course) and after trying (without luck) to convince him to stop doing these idiotical things that would endanger the party, he follows the others throughout the dungeon. Instead of saying anything at all that would make sense, all that he does is pathetically complain about the unfairness of the cursed shield, whereas his party has: a cursed Derro that has become a vampire, a cursed catfolk that was a cannibal for a while, a cursed warrior that has been blinded and cannot see the living, a cursed thief who when he tries to lie suffers from incontinence (The party wizard is a bit of a petty guy) and yet no, the golden tower shield is unfair. He could fight with a longsword or something but no, he just places himself in defensive position during battles and sulks about the unfairness of it all.
Then, woe to the world, our proud party reaches the first houses of dwarves in the abandoned fortress. Written in Dwarf runes upon a statue of Moradin are the words:
"Steal my precious and you shall know my ire,
Steal my labor and you shall know my fury,
Steal from my creation (Dwarfs) and your very existence shall be unmade."
Which basically meant pretty clearly that depending on how much one stole, the level of the traps around the fortress would rise.
Our wonderful, smart, overly lobotomized Goliath first tries to uncork solidly closed magma conduits, bringing back the power in the entire fortress (which does seem a good thing, doesn't it?) and then decides to steal an Adamantium warhammer from within a shop to try and break the tower shield that he cannot remove. The next moment, of course, he activates the traps to their highest level. Then he drops the warhammer behind because well, it doesn't work so let's leave it there...
Alas it is NOT over yet, for passing by a small temple of Moradin, he says:
"Nah, that's just a small temple, what can the god do in there? I need a bigger one." (Because we all know gods have size complex of course)
Finally we reach a staircase, one that leads upwards and that has yet another one of those gold and silver shields against the wall.
Guess what the Goliath does? You got it, he touches it and the 'clack' is hear again. This time however he doesn't remove the shield and proceeds along the others while sulking.
They reach yet an even higher level, whereas the 'nobility' stood once with their homes. Here there is a bigger temple, and as he enters and grabs randomly stuff like gold and rotten water to pour on the altar, he claims:
"ohi! Please! You god! Take this off please? Yeah Pelor, talking to you!"
He gets thrown out by a good dose of 'divine retribution' from MORADIN.
And then, graciously, he decides that 'I have work tomorrow, going to sleep' and leaves.
The rest of the group sighs in relief, and we decide he needs to be killed slowly in his sleep.
We don't however, and after having calmed down, we come to decide that we'll keep him out of the next sessions of D&D until he either grows mentally or forever.
The problem is however that the guy 'is' my brother, so eventually he'll wear me out enough to come back and play.
Question being thus the following:
Barring killing the guy, how the hell can I manage to get him to understand that what he did and is doing is nothing short of being a spoiled brat who endangers and ruins the fun to the other member of the group?
At the moment the group (We're in six, seven with me) have decided to bar him from playing again with me as a Dungeon Master at present.
Taking suggestions on what to do to make him 'grow' at the very least while playing D&D...or is it a lost cause?